This first bit of the chapter is the same as the prologue, so if you have read that, you don't need to read this part.

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At the sound of the birds singing their beautiful song through their chirping in the morning, I woke up. My tiredness could not be described in words.

After my little game that lasted the whole night, I fell asleep as soon as I arrived home through my window. Normally, I would not play games outside at night, but that's mostly due to my age and my need to sleep more. But, everything has an exception, doesn't it?

I pull off my duvet and stand up a little too quickly for my body's liking, making my head spin and my eyes see black. Oddly enough, instead of feeling disgusted by this, it actually feels kind of refreshing, though my mind is groggy and clouded. As I look around my room, I take in the rose-red walls, that reminds me of the happenings of last night.

Everything in my room was a different shade of red, even the light's in the ceiling gave off a soothing red and warm glow. If you still haven't guessed it, my favourite colour's red. It gives me this ecstatic feeling of warmth and love. That is probably also the reason for me playing these types of games. Whenever the red colour splashes upon walls, ceiling, floors or any kind of object, my stomach feels full of butterflies and my mouth automatically opens into a beaming smile.

Oh, and the screams. They're like music in my ears. Screams just add onto the satisfaction of being able to paint whatever you want with red. There's nothing better in the world than the feeling of accomplishment. The feeling that this is the right thing for you, and you should be proud. No matter how many times I do this kind of stuff, I simply cannot stop. I'm addicted, so to say.

I feel like an artist whenever the red splashes everywhere. I feel like myself. It's the only way to express my true feelings.

---------------------------------End of Prologue------------------------------------

Standing in my room, I look around to find that my drawing of the homeless man lay on the wooden floor. Not the most ideal place for it to be so to say. Especially since I've already made it become real. I wouldn't want anyone to make connections to the crime and a bit-too realistic drawing of gore and blood in the room of a child. But, even if they did make a connection of some sorts, I have a hard time believing they will actually think of me as the murderer. They'd probably be more likely to suspect Mommy and Dad, and I'd rather avoid such a situation if possible.

As I begin to walk towards the drawing, a knock comes from my door. My heart skips a beat. This is definitely not a good situation. As fast as my small legs can carry me, I run towards the drawing and stash it away in my drawer at the exact moment the door opens and reveals my mother. I try my best not to look flustered and give her a beaming and innocent smile.

 

Lucy: "Good morning Mommy!"

 

I release a giggle and run over to embrace her. She's got a suspicious look in her eyes as she looks down at me. I'm beginning to feel cold sweat trickle down my back.

 

Mom: "What are you hiding Lucy?"

Lucy: "Nothing Mommy."

Mom: "Then why did you look so flustered when I came in?"

Lucy: "I-I...just didn't want you to see a surprise I've prepared for you and Dad."

 

That's got to be the worst excuse I've ever come up with. Even the look in her eyes tells me she's having a hard time believing me. But she has to. It's an excuse every child comes up with, and you wouldn't want to ruin your own child's surprise they have for you now would you? It's a foolproof plan. However, it can't be used all the time as that would just be odd.

 

Mom: "If it's a surprise for me and Dad, it better be good."

 

In an instant Mommy's face take a turn of 180 degrees. A bright smile showing her milky white teeth has replaced her suspicious look, while her eyes almost look like crescent moons. She grabs my head and lightly kisses me on my forehead, leaving me somewhat flustered once again. A small flush can be seen on my face.

And if you still haven't figured out yet, I don't have the mentality of a 6-year-old. I'm not entirely sure why, but that's just how it is. That's how I've been ever since I was born. Perhaps that's why I sometimes have such a hard time fitting in?

Sometimes I wonder why my mind is so different from other 'normal' children. What has made my mind become like it is now? Is there perhaps a reason for me liking specific things like murder, torture and blood? I'm not entirely sure. But it's not like I'll complain about it. It's something I've been born- and lived with. A hunger for blood and violence, so to say. I can't even begin to imagine how my mentality and life would be without the thoughts of painting with red. You probably won't be able to understand how I feel, but I honestly don't mind. If people knew of my desires and what I really am, they would look at me as if I was a monster. How people I don't know look at me matters little. However, I don't want my parents to look at me like that. Even though I might be seen as a psychopath in the eyes of others, I am still a child after all. A child that needs a supporting pillar called parents. Without them, I can't even begin to imagine what would have come of me.

Around 20 seconds later we release each other from a memorable hug. Without saying another word, Mommy walks out of my room, closing my door behind her back. Not that I mind, but it all feels weird. Normally she would tell me breakfast was ready, but today she didn't. Maybe it's just a coincidence. A mistake on her part? She's human after all. She can't be perfect and remember to do such a trivial matter since I already know that it's time to eat.

 

-----------*Timeskip, ~7 minutes*-----------

 

After changing my pyjamas to a pair of black jeans, with a couple of red roses randomly placed, and a plain red shirt with a huge smiley face placed on the tummy, I walk out of my room and downstairs into the kitchen, where Mommy's seated looking at her phone. Unlike her usual cheery look, her face is plastered with a serious mask.

 

Lucy: "Why do you look so serious, Mommy?"

 

It's weird to see my Mommy with such a look on her face. I'm extremely unfamiliar with such a look. Unlike most children that's got a caring but strict mom, my Mommy's only caring and protective. I've never seen her scold people, or act serious as she's always laughing and smiling with her cute mouth. 

 

Mom: "Oh, it's nothing sweetie. The food's already on the table."

 

She doesn't even look up from her phone. It's like she's in another world altogether and only hears my voice, but doesn't actually see me. I'm suspicious of her recent behaviour. Dad's too. They're acting different than how they usually do, and it's making me feel uncomfortable. It feels like something big is about to happen. But what? What could make them act so differently?

To be honest, I'd rather not dwell on such a matter, but it just keeps surfacing in my mind. It's pestering me. It's like it wants me to only think about this matter. My mind is annoying me.

Sitting at the table, I'm shocked. Mommy's not even prepared breakfast? It's unlike her to serve ready-made food. She usually cooks scrambled eggs and bacon, or bake bread for breakfast. But today...it's just good old oatmeal with milk and sugar. I've only really eaten this sort of food when I was little, and couldn't eat other foods. It's odd.

 

Lucy: "Mommy, where's dad?"

Mom: "As I said, he was called in by his workplace."

Lucy: "But, you said that yesterday as well?"

Mom: "Look, sweetie, it's adult-stuff."

 

There's definitely something amiss. Not just with Mommy, but even with Dad. What could be so important, that he's got to leave me and Mommy alone? Is work really more important than the family?

I'm getting some vibes I'd rather not have. This whole thing seems awfully suspicious. Even a normal 6-year-old would be able to figure out that something wasn't right, so how come they're hiding it so bad? It's like they're not even trying to hide it, but just loosely cover it up. A single blow of wind would be able to blow away the cover.

You ever remember at the time you were little, and your parents hid away the presents when it was Christmas? It's that kind of feeling I have. I know it's there, but where or what it actually is is a complete mystery to me.

I sigh. It's too complicated for me to try and figure out at the moment. Although I'd say I'm as clever as an average adult, there are still certain aspects I'm lacking in. And that's most likely because of me only being 6 years old.

 

-----------*At the Police Station*-----------

 

POV: 3rd person.

 

???: "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S NO EVIDENCE?! WITH HOW THAT POOR SOUL LOOKS, HE'S GOT TO HAVE SCREAMED OR AT LEAST TRIED TO ALERT OTHERS!"

???: "Sir, the files state that he was mute. It would be impossible to call for help."

???: "THAT DOESN'T CHANGE THE FACT THAT HE WOULD AT LEAST BE ABLE TO CRY OUT, OR MAKE A SOUND." (I'm not entirely sure if mute people can do that, correct me if I'm wrong.)

???: "Thomas, Sir, you need to calm down."

Thomas: "HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO CALM DOWN, WHEN SUCH A VULGAR AND CRUEL ACT OF MURDER HAPPENS WITHIN MY TERRITORY MICHAEL?!"

Michael: "Sir, we've already put almost all officers on duty in order to try and catch the culprit."

 

A deep sigh is released from Thomas as he slumps down in his office chair. For the past 20 years, he's worked here, there's never been a case of murder or violence, as he's always intercepted before it actually happens. He's received massive amounts of honour and recognition. Hundreds of times he's been offered a promotion, but he's turned them all down. The higher in the hierarchy he comes, the less he'll be out in the field where he can truly be himself, and fight crime. 

He's even been given a nickname, 'The Predicter'. Most of his co-workers have felt that he always knows when things are going to happen. It's like he's gotten the information beforehand, and knows exactly at what point in time something's going to happen. He always knows who the real culprit is. 

A couple of people have been suspicious of this and thought he colluded with the criminals in order to gain fame and honour. Those thoughts were however later dismissed when he declined his offered promotions. Although Thomas isn't a high-ranked officer, most people, even seniors respect him. He's achieved what every aspiring crime-fighter would want to accomplish.

 

Thomas: "Have you checked for fingerprints? Bodily fluids? Anything that could be used to identify the culprit?"

Michael: "Yes sir, we've checked. However, we found nothing at all, hence the reason there's no evidence to point in any direction. But, by the looks of it, the homeless man was tortured to the extreme. That's the only clue we could use at the moment."

Thomas: "We've got a psychopath on the loose...and we can't find him. What a great way to start the day. Go check through the files of those serial-killers that has yet to be caught. Maybe we can draw a line between this case and one of them. You're dismissed."

Michael: "Yes, Sir."

 

Michael hurriedly leaves the office, closing the door behind him. A sullen and angry look has been plastered on Thomas's face.

 

POV: Thomas.

 

How could something like this happen before my eyes? How could the culprit get away with such a cruel and vulgar act? Am I getting incompetent? How can no fingerprints be found with our level of technology? Even if the culprit did wear gloves, fingerprints would inevitably still be present at the scene. They would be scarce, yes, but they would still be there.

What's most odd is that I can't seem to see who the culprit is, even with my ability, Eye of Recognition. When I looked at that mangled corpse, the only thing that resembled a person, was a silhouette shrouded in mist and fog. No matter how deep I dug, I never got any closer to the silhouette. I couldn't even see what kind of build that person has. Does that person have an ability that blocks out my ability? No. Even if that was the case, it didn't explain how the people living in those apartments didn't hear a single thing. So does that person have a multi-use ability? That's impossible. Perhaps it's someone who's incredibly experienced. Maybe much more experienced than me.

 

-----------*Timeskip, ~20 minutes*-----------

 

Knock, knock, knock.

A couple of knocks sound on my door.

 

Michael: "May I enter, Sir?"

Thomas: "Sure. You already got something?"

Michael: "Yes. But, it will probably not be easy with just this."

Thomas: "Go on. Tell me what you found."

Michael: "Alright. After you sent me away Sir, I asked the secretaries to call other departments worldwide, in case something like this has happened before. Turns out, it did. About a year ago in ********, a murder found place involving a local woman. She was brutally tortured, with half of her face's skin melted together with a plastic trashcan. Furthermore, each of her toes and fingers had been cut off, and sewn onto the opposite parts, resulting in her having fingers for toes and toes for fingers. Her lower jaw had also been ripped out, and part of her intestines had been sewn onto her back in a bloodied smiley. Furthermore, it looked like the murderer had deliberately spread out her bloo-"

Thomas: "Spare me the details..."

Michael: "All in all, although the murder isn't identical to the murder that happened yesterday night, it uses the same overall methods of torture, Sir. No fingerprints or the like were found on-site, resulting in the police of ******** to never find the murderer, and the case has since then been identified as unsolvable."

Thomas: And that's the closest you've gotten to finding who the culprit of this murder might be?"

Michael: "As of now Sir, unfortunately, yes."

Thomas: "Sigh~. At least you found something compared to the other lazy ass officers. You're dismissed, go back to work."

Michael: "As you wish, Sir."

 

After Michael left through the door, I smashed my fist down onto the table as hard as I possibly could due to anger. Normally I would never get angry, even if someone deliberately provoked me. But somehow I just couldn't control my anger. Maybe it was because it involved a human life. Or maybe it was because it was the first time in my career that I couldn't find concrete clues, I'm not entirely sure.

I'm just so curious. Why is it my ability is blocked from viewing who the culprit is? How is that even possible? I've never in my life heard of an ability that can block such a rare and powerful ability such as the Eye of Recognition. It must at least be as powerful, if not even more powerful. But what could that ability be then? It can't be that it's a multi-use ability. That would simply be impossible. But nothing else can explain that no sound was heard from when the murder happened, while no clues were found. It's like how the police from ******** hadn't been able to find a single usable clue.

When fighting crime, the worst thing that could happen...is that there are no clues on the scene. Without clues, the detectives and the officers won't know where to begin their investigation. And with no investigation, the criminal naturally will not be found. Therefore the nightmare of all crimefighters is the lack of evidence. You couldn't just make evidence out of nothing since that'll only bring you trouble in the end. So how will I be able to unveil the murderer, when there's nothing to go after except another murder that happened a year ago?

 

-----------*At Lucy's Home*-----------

 

After eating breakfast, alone, I packed my things and left the house to go to the nearest bus stop. You can't be thinking that just because I'm different, I don't go to school, now can you? Well...I do. And it's the most boring thing of my life, as I already have mastered most of the things learned. Unlike normal 6-year-olds, I actually listen properly to the lessons given by our teachers...at first. After already learning the subject, I'll just stop paying attention to what the teacher's saying, as it's something she's already said a thousand times.

It's also incredibly annoying when the teachers treat me like a kid (although I am one). The childish ways to explain a subject, the undertone in their voice telling me they're annoyed or look down on me, and the incredibly annoying behaviour they have towards me. Sometimes it's as if I'm a princess and they try to suck up to me by saying I have beautiful hair, a pretty face or a perfect pair of eyes that shine like diamonds. They never compliment other kids, only me. And, don't get me wrong here, I enjoy attention, but not when it's given by old disgusting perverts, that should already have passed away years ago. Especially our math teacher. He's in his 60's. What need is an old man to society? Nothing. In my opinion, when people reach the age of 60 they should just go die, and get reincarnated or whatever they believe in. The only thing they're good at is being a burden to the other hardworking people...and me.

Sigh~. Someday I'll make an art piece out of the school's students and teachers. The school is only a huge canvas waiting to be painted by your dear, me!

 

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~3000 words.

Hi again!

The investigation's on. Do you think the police will be able to connect the dots and find the REAL culprit?

Also, what do you think Lucy's ability might be? Or perhaps she'll discover she has multiple abilities which is...impossible?

Either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you have any suggestions or ideas, feel free to comment them down below. Thank you! Peace out.