My chest starts to hurt, my arms feel numb. I’m dying. Hey, Kei. Are you doing okay? As the mug in my hand shakes, I put it down. What? He looks at me with concern, I must act normal. Yes. It’s fine. Haven’t slept well. You know… He puts his arm around me and hugs me. We will get to the bottom of this, don’t worry. As the word bottom leaves his mouth, I feel like I am falling down rapidly. Are you sure you are okay? You look awful. I laugh nervously. No, I… I can’t tell him that I feel like I’m dying. We can’t… Maybe you have a cold? Go home, take a day off. The rest of his words… I can’t understand. Earth to Kei. Hello. I look through him. He starts shaking me. Kei. Is someone in there? I put my mug back down. I am going home. Sorry. He slaps me on the back. Good, at least you got that. As I get into the elevator and push the button, I remember I forgot all my things. The elevator starts to descend I start screaming as I crawl down.

Hey! Kei! What are you doing? Kei! A crab arm appears in front of my eyes. Go away! Go away! He gets a few steps back away from me. Are you okay? As I come back from having a waking nightmare, I look at him. I am sorry. Can you just draw the curtains, please? As he does it he asks me again, what that was. I don’t know. I just remembered my first panic attack. He turns towards me. I am sorry to hear that. I heard that it’s an awful feeling. I start laughing. Well, it’s the closest I’ve come to feel like dying yet. So… His face lights up like he finally caught up. Oh, I understand. I nod. It’s something… Riveting. It truly makes you feel alive. He looks at me weird now. It just sounds to me like you are sick. I scratch my head now nervously laughing. You may be right. I envy him. I don’t know how you do it. He looks at me weird for saying that. What do you mean? As I stand up once more, I look at him with a smile. Well, you are so simple… But in a good, kind hearted way. I wish I was a bit more like you. He doesn’t seem to have taken to my compliment. Let’s just get to work. You are horrible at compliment people.

Here are all the pictures of the crime scene. As you can see too, there were no scuffle marks on the door or its keyhole or anything like that. The carpet is completely clean. So, we couldn’t find any footprints. There was no hair, no spit, no blood spill. And on his body, nothing. No marks of struggle, nothing under his finger nails, no outpour of venom, no fabric, and o fingerprints besides his anywhere in the apartment. I start scratching myself. I don’t get it. As I look closely at the key hole of the door. Then how did he die? He taps me on the shoulder. Here is his report. As I grab it and open it, he looks at me with concern. My eyes start to glide over the words as I read the report. What the… As I look at him he stands there and shrugs. How? Did the guy that did this autopsy explain this to you? He shakes his head. Can you please call to have him brought here? I need to ask him a few questions. This doesn’t make sense. He pulls out his phone. Oh, and tell him to bring whatever video of the procedure he has. He looks at me puzzled. This is a special case, you don’t think they filmed the whole thing? This hasn’t happened since, well… Ten years ago. He nods as he puts his phone to the year. Good, and now let’s see what we can find around here…

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