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A Murderer's Logbook

As i looked carefully at the shack where it all started i felt an unease breeze blow through white t-shirt. It wasnt a breeze of the air the tikled a sense of unease and fear it was the fact that whoever wrote this book had left this much evidence in this little shack in the middle of the woods. For the fact the book could get easily retrieved by anyone was fear filled but worse was the fact that we were hear. Up for anything.It was just me and Chipego in this quiet forest.The way we flashed in every direction when we heard a sound was the best clue that we were afraid. We stood in front of the shack scared to look inside the shack.While Chipego surveyed the balcon of the house and i stood stagnant at the door she noticed something. The door was already opened.As soon as i saw the door open i knew someone was here.

Daoist8dMZ47 · アクション
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5 Chs

Chapter one

I sat at my desk, my fingers hovering over the book in front of me, like a secret treasure chest waiting to reveal its dark mysteries. I felt curious, like I was being pulled into a mysterious world.

Questions swirled in my mind, like puzzles I couldn't solve. Was I really ready to dive into this strange book? Its cover didn't give me any hints, leaving me wondering what secrets it held. But I couldn't resist the urge to keep reading, like I was drawn to it.

What had made me so curious? Was it the mysterious title or the whispers about hidden truths inside its pages?

As I thought about this, I glanced at Magret, who was nearby. Her presence added to the mystery, making me feel like something unusual was happening.

The book started with a story:

"On May 16th, at 17:40, something strange happened to Melvis Palmer.

Have you ever felt like you were on the edge of something bad happening? That's how I felt on that dark night. I was just taking my dog for a walk, and the air felt heavy, like a storm was coming. I wasn't a weather expert, just a retired cashier.

As I walked, my dog Mawi needed a break. I turned away to give him some privacy. But in that ordinary moment, something unusual happened. I saw Melvis Palmer with someone, not alone.

Their hug seemed longer than what friends would do. I wondered about their relationship. Were they family?

They went into Sheriff Mark's house, the head of the local police. It felt like I was getting closer to a big mystery.

I stayed, my dog finished his business, but I couldn't leave. I wanted to know what was going on.

Page 2 had a shocking scene. The curtains were open in the main bedroom, and I could see almost everything.

Melvis seemed to know something was wrong. As Sheriff Mark went downstairs to get a drink, she put her phone near the dresser, like she had a plan.

When he came back, he took off his shirt, and I wondered what secrets he was hiding. But before anything strange happened, Melvis's phone rang. The camera was still recording, and I saw something I shouldn't have.

The story took a dark turn. Sheriff Mark did something terrible to Melvis. It was hard to believe he could do that.

He hid her body in his car, erased all evidence, and left no trace of the crime. But I knew I had to find out the truth.

I was left stunned by the story. I looked at Sheriff Mark's office, wondering if he was really a killer. He didn't look like one, but Jacob's words weighed on my mind.

Sheriff Mark sat in his office, looking relaxed. I doubted he would survive in prison with his size.

But was I sure he was guilty? Could this book be enough to prove it, or was I getting into trouble?

The body was behind the New Foster chapel, where dreams died, and a murderer was free.

Or was he? It felt like someone would find this book and make Sheriff Mark pay for his actions.

Sheriff Mark forgot that the house behind Foster Chapel was my home. Maybe, by some coincidence, I had more evidence on film.

If he didn't remember, too bad. Right where you found this book, there are some documents and films—take a look.

And yes, I mean you. You're probably wondering why I wrote this. It's because I knew that if anyone suspected me of knowing their secrets, I'd be in trouble. So, I decided to stay anonymous in this book, no name, no current location, just Jacob's diary and you.

Read on if you dare, for this information is worth it. You might soon find out who really killed the Mayor. It's not as unbelievable as it seems.

He might be sitting right next to you.

Before I could turn the page, Mark came with some papers and put them on my desk.

As soon as I saw Mark, my heart raced like the start of an exciting movie.

I was scared, but at least he didn't know about the book.

So many secrets in such a short time. I took the Melvis Palmer file from the drawer, grabbed the work Mark had left, and hurried home.

I couldn't deal with all of this at work; I had to call in sick.