Epilogue

[One Day Later]

-So, this is how it all happened?! – said the detective and closed the black notebook on the table.

He looked around, but there was not anything of interest anymore, except for the body of the murderer he had been chasing for some time. It all began when the authorities found a small house in the middle of nowhere, with the bodies of three people. They were a family, but along with that, came a clue as to where another body would be found. He and his colleagues rushed there as soon as possible, but when they found the corpse of the black male, it was too late. They did not lose hope though, since there was another clue, leading to another place. There, they found the body of an elderly fellow. The detectives started to lose hope, since they were being played. It was surely a chasing game, for they did not have any other clues as to what was happening. But when the clue of the last victim led to another, and that clue led to one final clue, the detective had some solid…or well, different instructions. They found a note on the site where the three bodies of different men were found. The note led to this apartment, and coincidently, just yesterday a call was reported, saying that there has been a gunshot in this area. He was going to call in for some medics and forensics, but he wanted to check out the scene himself first. When the detective arrived at the premises, he was greeted with the body of Martin Velichkov, ex inmate of the "Dyavolsko" Penitentiary. The detective knew him, for he was the leading man in his case, where he murdered a girl. It was later discovered he was not the one who did it, but that instigated a murderous thirst for revenge. Every detail of how the victims of the revenge were captured and murdered, had been noted down in the notebook. Even his own last will and the people involved with everything, their names too. It was clear. He had gone from prey to beast, and then had committed suicide because his mind could not cope. The detective made sure not to step on any of the spilled brain matter, as his coat and shoes did not make any contact. The man looked down and cringed at the scene. He was not keen on seeing stuff like that, but it was a part of his job. As he examined the body though, he managed to spot something like a paper, poking out of the pocket of his hoodie, all covered in blood and brains. Carefully putting on gloves, he used tweezers and managed to take it. It was a crumbled up piece of paper with a few words on it. It said:

"Good job of finally managing to find me Detective Slaveikov! You really are one of the most incompetent workers out there, but that is okay. What is not okay is the fact that you were directly responsible for me ending up in prison! You did not do your job correctly, and that got me in there, so thank you! But, as you can see, I did good once I got out of there! You followed the trail of blood we left behind, only to find me, the leader. However, as you can see, I am already gone from this world, and you do not have anyone to blame for the murders I committed on camera and pained on the notebook as my testimony. You will only have your thumb in your mouth! Moreover, even if you think, you have his note to prove it all; it will vanish, for it is written with ink that will disappear in less than two hours. Not to mention, my colleague you saw when entering the building, the one with the hoodie with a skull on it, will come and pick up my notebook, along with everything in it. They know every move you will make detective, so you have one chance to leave this place, and stop investigating them. But before you do, look yourself in that broken mirror, and see the failure you are!"

Detective Slaveikov had a huge mark of sweat, heating up his back as he read those lines. How did he know he was going to come here? It could have been another person to investigate the scene! Even the person he saw with the hoodie as described on the note, he saw him but did not think much of it. It was clear Martin wanted to stop the police from investigating further on them and everything, but that was not how things worked. He reached for his radio-station, but he had forgotten it in his car. He cursed and finally looked at the mirror, unintentionally. He saw the broken surface of the glass, and the mangled reflection. Just as he was about to look away, he saw something. It was poking out from behind the frame, kind of like a picture. Without thinking, scared and trying to think of something, he moved the frame, and the mechanism clicked. Before he even comprehended what happened, the gun planted behind it, shot, and painted the walls red, once again.

…

[Ten minutes later]

When Scythe walked in, he did not waste any of the seconds he had before someone reported the gunshot. It had a silencer, but it still made noise, so he had to hurry. Grabbing the black notebook, he went inside the bathroom and at first gasped at the sight of his previous boss dead, but then looked at the body of the detective, also dead and laying lifelessly on the ground. He smirked and quickly covered them in gasoline. His final-final task was to take care of them, and make it look natural. As he poured all of the contents from the tub, he walked to the stove and switched it on, the only thing in the apartment that still worked. It started spreading gas, which was going to help with the explosion that was going to follow. Scythe went back to the bathroom, and took one final glance at his boss and at his enemy.

-Everything was personal! – He murmured and threw the ignited lighter at the bodies.

The flames quickly started and the man left the apartment. He was going to take the car of the detective and drive it somewhere where it could be totaled without questions. Everything was going to be settled. Scythe got inside the vehicle, started it and drove off, to the sound of an explosion soon to follow. He only managed to smile, having fulfilled his final task given to him by Red as they walked off that day of the final episode. Hell, he could not take any credit off the man. He proved that even in death, he still was the one who pulled the strings in the end. He was still, the whole part of this twisted masquerade.

THE END!