A Proper Burial

Mason jogged from table to table, finding any possible spots for him and his friends to sit without disturbance. He asked the additional funeral students if they remembered what happened. They didn't — nor did they remember anything about entering Room 4-B. They could've been lying, but Mason was planning to take on psychology in Elysian, and his levels were above average at the very least. 

They weren't lying. So how? Was it all a dream? No. Kyle and Abbie remember it well, but nobody believed them. That's why they kept it to themselves. Even if they did say, Halen could've done something. It was too risky.

When Mason woke up, he even pinched himself. Did Adam really commit suicide? Was the riot fake? The more doubts clogged up Mason's mind, the more plans he devised. "Have you found a spot?" Kyle asked. Mason shook his head. "Where's Abbie?"

Kyle shrugged. "She couldn't come. Family issues."

Mason sighed and sat in one of the chairs stationed in the corner. Kyle took the next. For a while, they didn't face or talk to each other. Mason huffed as the atmosphere was broken for him by a sudden commotion near the entrance. Mason's gaze was drawn to a man and woman talking with the principal. 

The woman, a stern-looking blonde in a crisp pantsuit, had a notepad in her hand which she kept glancing at and scribbling notes. The man beside her seemed to be in his late 20s with an easy smile. He occasionally glanced at his watch.

Mason nudged Kyle, nodding towards the confrontation. "Hey, you know who those two are? They seem pretty worked up over something."

"Looks like the police."

"Police? So they're arresting Halen?"

"If they were arresting him, Halen wouldn't be happy. Besides, there's no proof Halen started the riot. Everyone seems to have forgotten." Mason's heart groaned in defeat. Kyle leaned in close. "You don't think someone talked, do you?" he asked in a low voice. Mason shook his head slowly. "No way. We all kept quiet like we agreed. Only you, me, and Abbie know the truth. And the others..." He trailed off, glancing around at the cluster of students. "They legitimately don't seem to remember anything. Including Noah. He was actually crying."

"Maybe he's pretending?"

"I study psychology, and I don't think they were acting."

"Maybe Noah's a good actor."

"Then how did he flop at theatre class?"

"Maybe he was pretending then?"

"You think he planned that ahead?"

"Good point."

Eventually, the officers walked away. Halen waved goodbye and joined the crowd. "Yep, they're not arresting him," Kyle confirmed. Chewing his lip, Mason considered their options. On one hand, maybe it was best to lay low and wait this out. The others seemed to have genuinely no recollection of the Room 4-B incident, so there was no trail for the police to follow anyway — and making an outrageous claim like, "Oh, my principal made a fake police document to convince everyone to kill him!" wouldn't work. Then again, what if the police did believe them?

"You know, there's something that's been bugging me," Kyle said. "What is it?" asked Mason. 

"If Halen did erase or alter people's memories… Why didn't he do it with ours?"

Mason thought for a moment. "Because he wants to toy with us. In his mind, we're nothing more than lab rats. He wants to see what makes us tick. What lengths do we go to when nobody believes us. He's curious, that's all," he guessed. "That's sick," said Kyle. "Halen's a serial killer, obviously he's sick." The two eyed Halen as he chatted with the others.

"So what do we do? Go to the cops?"

Mason sighed and shook his head slowly. "Not yet. Let's observe for now. If Halen is someone who can erase memories and cause a riot without lifting a finger, then he can definitely kill us. Let's play it safe."

"But with the police—"

"Halen has evaded the police already, they won't believe us. There's no saying Halen won't try something with them, too. Besides, we hardly have enough proof, and accusing Halen now would be a lost cause. It could even make him angry."

He buried his face in his hands. "We'll have to find a way out of this. Somehow. We need proof."

***

The principal walked three stray dogs into the forest. He had carved a trail for himself. The dogs had no leash on their necks. They simply followed him into the woods. One almost tripped. Halen bent down and dusted it off. "There you go." He walked further into the woods before coming to a halt. "Alright, sit," he ordered. The dogs sat down near a tree. Principal Halen took out his gun and shot them one at a time. They didn't move or try to resist. They merely accepted their fate. Principal Halen tossed their bodies into a hole he had dug days prior. "You can come out now!" he called. No response. "I know you're not capable of running far. Even if you make it back, I'll just alter your memories."

Slowly, Abbie stepped out from the bushes. "How'd you know?"

"What I don't know, I don't set. If you're following me, I'll be certain of it. Otherwise, I'll pull up the anchor. You could say I train myself with this."

"So you guessed?"

"I knew."

Abbie looked at the puppies. "Why'd you want to kill them?"

"Well, why can't I?"

"It's not legal. Stray or not."

"Of course it is."

"Do you even read the law?"

"Let me offer you some insight," he said, pointing his gun at her. He motioned her to get moving. Trying to remain calm, Abbie quickly sullied her hands in the dog's blood, and — much to her disgust — pushed their bodies into the hole. Halen stopped her and took one of the bodies out, breaking its neck. He dumped it back in.

"Why—"

"I've snapped the necks of many other creatures before. It's like a hunting signature."

Halen continued, "See, there's nothing wrong with killing. When God planted the garden, the forbidden fruit was always there. It was waiting to be eaten. And when the devil came to convince people to eat it, it awoke. When I started the riot, I didn't invoke evil in their hearts. The evil was always there. I just added fuel to the fire. There's nothing wrong with that. Evil had been there from the start. It's not my fault. Nor is it God's fault. It's the devil's."

"Do you mean you?"

"I'm not the devil. I'm a God myself." He nudged Abbie aside and poured dirt over the bodies so nobody would see. "See, I'm already on a God's level. I control how people act in the future, how they think, how they talk, and how they'll live. I'm not evil. I'm doing the right thing."

"What you did was murder."

"It's not murder if we're not equals. One can easily kill a person of a poorer race and get off the hook because the race isn't welcome. A soldier can kill another soldier because their country puts their priorities above all else. Governments can torture citizens because they're more important. In truth, any human can kill because they'll put themselves above everyone else. It's a mere principle of man. I'm your teacher. I govern who you are. And you'll listen to me without any hesitation. The mere truth of man demands you obey me, so you will. I'm not threatening you, you're doing this out of your free will." Halen extended his hand. "The camera, please. Or you'll end up like the dogs."

Abbie sighed and handed it to him. Halen deleted the photos and gave them back. "Tell anyone you want. They won't believe you. You can go now." The two began parting waves. "Oh, and one more thing!" Halen called. Abbie stopped. "I've already set an anchor on your house. I, uh, I know things are tough," he said. "Look, if you need any advice, you can always speak to me, okay?"

Abbie nodded slowly.

"Goodbye, Abbie," Halen smiled. Then he left.

***

"You're never here for her!" her mother shrieked, makeup streaked down her face. "You're always out drinking at the bar!"

 "Well if you ever got off your lazy ass maybe I could stand being around this dump!" Abbie's father snarled back, spit flying from his lips. Abbie's baby sister wailed inconsolably in her crib. Abbie tried in vain to soothe the infant, rocking the crib while shooting pleading looks towards her parents. When she was small, she tried practising by keeping count of how many times these arguments had occurred as a way of coping, though she gave up after a few days. Sometimes, she wondered if her sister was doing the same.

She ran to her room and grabbed her phone, dialling a number. "Come on, pick up…" she muttered.

***

"Okay, we should contact the police."

Abbie stuttered. "What?! No!"

"Abbie, this has gone on long enough," Kyle said. "I know you love them, but if they're arguing almost every day, we need to do something. This is the… What? 6th? 7th time you've had to stay at my apartment?" Like most students trying to enter Elysian, Kyle had to move away from home to join. Growing up in a poor family, the only thing that motivated him was going from rags to riches. "I know," Abbie said, "and I'm sorry for being a burden—"

"I'm not saying you're a burden. I'm saying we need to do something. Your sister isn't gonna grow up in these conditions."

Abbie shook her head vehemently. "No, Kyle, you can't call the police. Please, I'm begging you."

"Abbie, this is getting out of hand. Your parents' fights are becoming more and more volatile. It's not a healthy environment for you or your little sister."

"I know, I know," Abbie said frantically. "But involving the authorities will only make things worse, trust me. My parents will be furious if cops show up on our doorstep over some domestic squabbles."

Kyle gave her an incredulous look. "Some domestic squabbles? Ab, your dad shoved your brother into a TV stand the other night. That's assault, plain and simple."

"He was drunk!"

"He's drunk all the time!" Kyle grabbed his forehead. "Look, you're welcome to stay at my place anytime you like. But you have to promise if the situation escalates, you'll let me step in." Abbie finally nodded jerkily. "I'll get us out. I promise."

"Good."

***

"Alright, let's go over this again," Clara said, rubbing his temples. "We know that Adam was a popular student, well-liked by his peers, and had no known enemies. He was also a star athlete and had a promising future ahead of him. But then, he suddenly commits suicide." Ryan nodded, his eyes scanning the page in front of him. "Yes, and we've interviewed all of his friends and classmates, but no one seems to have any idea why he would do something like this. It's like he just snapped."

Clara leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest. "I don't buy it. Sure, he had a lot of enemies, but other than that, he had the perfect life. Committing suicide doesn't seem right." Ryan said, "And how can we prove it?" Clara raised an eyebrow. "You think so too?" she asked. "Of course I do. There's just not enough evidence."

Clara nodded. "Okay, let's assume someone else was involved. Who would have the most to gain from Adam's death? That's the first step."

"If that's the first step then we're screwed. It's a dead end. Nobody would want to kill him aside from… What are their names again?"

Clara fetched a new pair of papers. "Leo Blois, Kyle Tudor, Abbie Canmore — weird name — and Mason Lowry." She set it aside and scoffed. "And those people are hardly athletic enough to take him on."

"Unless they were working together."

"I interviewed Mason's parents, so he's got an alibi. I asked the neighbours to confirm it."

"And Kyle and Abbie?"

"Kyle doesn't live with his parents. Most students trying to enter Elysian don't, so it's normal. But Mason confirms he was in the library with him."

"And Abbie?"

"She was also in the library at school. The killing took place around school hours, so I'm guessing it couldn't have been her. But I didn't interview her neighbours yet. I'll start with her parents first thing in the morning." Clara yawned and drank more coffee. "I need to get some sleep." She got up and took her purse. "See you tomorrow." Ryan waited for her to exit before wandering into the hallways of the station. He pretended to scroll on his phone while walking into Gordon Vince, who was working overnight. Some of his tea spilt on Ryan. "Oh, sorry," Ryan chuckled.

"It's alright," Gordon waved sheepishly. "Uh, nice seeing you again."

"You too." Ryan smiled as Gordon walked away. He went inside the records department and into a door in the top-left corner of the room. He uses the key he pickpocketed from Gordon earlier to unlock it. Before long, Ryan was scouring the room piled with files and photographs.

When he found what he was looking for, he calmly walked into Gordon's office, put the key in his drawer, and left.

***

Abbie jotted down notes as she moved from one machine to another. She watched as the camera moved to watch her. It was obvious who was monitoring her. 

Abbie was on afterschool duty. Clubs weren't open this week, so it was rather quiet. She had left Lily in Kyle's apartment, where she knew he was feeding her. She would check on her parents tomorrow, who normally stopped arguing. "Howdy!" 

Abbie jumped back in surprise. "What the—"

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I'm Agent Foster. Nice to meet you." Abbie shook his hand. "Me and Agent Wells don't usually do this — she's in the other room — but we need all the info we can. Elysian's a big school, and Adam seemed to have shared ⅓ of its students. So, you know, routine check."

"Oh. Well, I wish you the best of luck."

"Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Me?" Abbie's heart pounded in her chest as she glared at the cameras. It was still on.

"Yes. Uh, my sources say that Adam occasionally picked on you. I thought you'd have more information."

"And this is a routine question?"

"Of course!"

Abbie tightened the grip on her notebook. "With all due respect, sir, I find it hard to believe this is just a 'routine' question about Adam's bullying behaviours."

Foster held up his hands in a placating gesture. "You're right, you're right. Let me be more upfront. We've received some concerning information that makes us question the official narrative around Adam's death. You know, his suicide." Instantly, Abbie was on high alert. "Well, we don't have much proof, we're actually covering loose ends." 

"What loose ends are you covering?" she asked.

Ryan nodded. "It goes like this: Adam is a rich kid. He's got a large posse, is friends with ⅓ of the students here — even official students in Elysian — and has a father who loves him. And then he commits suicide?"

"So… Motive?" 

"Exactly. Motive. Why would a boy like Adam Brown kill himself when he had a perfect life? See, I'm willing to bet that there was an outside force influencing him. An adult, most likely."

"And you're trying to catch them?"

"Well, we don't know if an adult did it, nor do we know if it was a student. We don't even know if there was an outside force, honestly. There's a chance Adam did commit suicide for unknown reasons." Ryan rustled through his hair. "But then again, suicide? No, that's too easy. If we're dealing with a killer — I'm not saying we are, I'm just assuming — they'd make it more complex, especially since this is a student from Elysian. Many people who know him personally would have doubts."

"So wouldn't the killer choose something else?"

"Well, either they were lazy or in a rush, or they wanted to… Mock us, in some way. I'm choosing the third option."

"How come?"

"Well, Semi-Elysian students are still deemed by Elysian to be worthy of entering, right? That's why they're in this school. Only an ordinary killer would be dumb enough to take on a student that smart. Hell, Adam was enrolled in the school because of his physical abilities. No killer would want to pick on a kid that strong."

"So how do you know they're trying to mock you?"

"A boy who's deemed worthy by Elysian just got murdered, and he commits suicide by hanging himself? That's a phoney way to go out. Any detective investigating would doubt a suicide. It's a common way for killers to cover up their crimes."

"So the killer murders a Semi-Elysian student known for their strength and makes it look like a common casualty — suicide. Like he's not even important."

"Exactly, and that goes by everything Adam stands for. He's a man of willpower and sheer force, so why kill himself? There's something wrong, but with no evidence, all you can do is sit in a corner," Foster nodded. Abbie shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure I can be of much help, then. Adam and I didn't interact much beyond the occasional bullying incident."

Foster nodded again. "I understand. But any little detail could be helpful at this stage. Did you notice anything out of the ordinary with Adam in the days or weeks leading up to his death? Any changes in his behaviour or demeanour?" Abbie shook her head. "Again, I haven't interacted with him," Abbie said, taking a quick look at the camera.

"Really?" Ryan asked again for confirmation. "Yes, really," Abbie reassured. "Oh. Oh, well, that sucks. Uh, thanks for your help anyway."

"Yeah, sorry."

"No, it's fine. I'll see you around." Ryan waved goodbye and left the school. Abbie looked at the camera again. It was off. She turned around to hear the sound of footsteps near the doorway. There, she saw Principal Halen frantically clapping his hands with a smile. "Amazing!" he exclaimed. "You're a real natural at acting!"

"Well, I got good grades in theatre class," Abbie replied bluntly. She still hadn't tossed the memory of Halen pointing a gun at her aside. It seems she made the right call not to tell Agent Foster anything about Room 4-B. Halen sauntered over to Abbie, his hands sliding into his pockets. "Well, you handled that very well! It's no wonder why you chose to enter Elysian, even if you failed the entrance exam and became a Semi-Student."

Abbie grimaced at the principal's mocking tone. Somehow, it felt like he meant it. "This isn't a game to me. I didn't say anything because you threatened me."

"All I did was watch you from the cameras."

"So where's the security guard?"

"He's sick," Halen responded quickly. "Don't worry, he's still alive. He'll come back to school in a few days."

"Where's the guard taking his place?"

"Oh, I told him to continue as usual. I'd be filling in. The more important question is: how's your family doing?" Halen sat down on a table and crossed his legs, his sweet, gentle smile still plastered over his face. At this point, Abbie was livid. "If you're trying to do something to Lily—"

"Lily? No, I'd never! But your parents… I don't know. Bad influence."

"You are, too."

"Oh, come on! I let you have free time!"

"What if I hated free time?"

Halen paused. "Then you're not a normal kid and I'll gladly help you sign up for mental healthcare."

"You know what? Screw this, and screw—"

"Oh, screw you, Halen! Screw you, grades! Screw you, school!" Halen said in a mocking tone, imitating her. "Look, I'm being serious. You have to. Cut. Them. Out. Of. Your. Life." Halen smacked his hands together as he said each word. "Remember, I'm only here to help." Abbie opened her mouth to scream, to begin shouting every possible slur she had learned. Instead, Abbie took a deep breath and stormed out of the room, leaving Halen sitting there with a bemused expression.

***

It is nightfall. The patient lies alone in his hospital bed. "Officer!" he called. "Officer!" Sighing, the police officer guarding the door enters the room. "What?" he yelled. "I need to go to the restroom," says the patient. "... Fine." The officer motions for him to come outside. "I'll be accompanying you. Per protocol."

"Sure. I don't like dark hallways anyway."

The two went to the restroom, where the patient began to take a leak. The guard stood outside and rolled his eyes. The patient finished washing his hands and walked outside, yawning. "I'm done," he said, holding his hands up in a chiding surrender. When there was no response, he turned to look at where the guard was standing. The patient stared in shock and horror at the lifeless body of the officer sprawled on the floor, his uniform soaked in blood. 

Before he could react, a pair of hands squeezed his throat and they both fell to the ground. The patient struggled to free himself, but the killer was too strong. The man grabbed his combat knife and forcefully stuffed it down the patient's throat. A jet of blood dribbled on the floor as the patient tried to scream for help. His mouth had already been covered. Before long, the patient's body slumped to the ground, and the man quickly fled.

***

Rubbing her eyes, an old woman opened the door to see all the noise. She stopped when she saw the scene in front of her. Thinking fast, she quickly pulled out her phone and dialled 911, her hands shaking as she tried to explain the situation to the operator. "There's been a murder! Two people are dead! Hurry, please!" she cried into the phone.