Prologue: Tough Times Ahead
It was a harmonious night in that unforgettable Sunday. The moon, along with the stars shined its rays of beaming blue brilliance to the now quiet part of Philadelphia; after the tedious rain has finally been put to an abrupt halt a few hours back. Individuals now slumber in their tidy adequate homes or the homeless ones whose restless sleep on the street’s filthy sidewalks. The air consisted of a hybrid of a pure, rich scent of rainwater with the despicable scent of oil coming from the constant use of vehicles and factories.
Thankfully, there was not a single car that night to disturb the loving silence and poisoning the lungs of those who aren’t as lucky to have a quicker means of purchasing a handful of daily products for the night. There were no audible sounds of small crowds of people strolling down the streets with their lovebirds or families strolling in a steady pace, where one can hear the obnoxious clattering of their shoes making contact with the pavement with each step.
He wasn’t so sure if his luck hasn’t run down the drain yet, this might have been a day of silent celebration, or maybe he was at the right part of the city, it didn’t matter much if the end result was at least positive one for once.
It should’ve been a delight for him to grab some peaceful shuteye for once after all of that. But no matter how much his mind was willing to convince him that the events will fade in quick time, no matter the dose of heavy medication he could insert to his system, no amount therapy, not even the amount of tense training he’d underwent through would help after those events. Any person, relative, or his superiors could’ve told him countless times “Don’t fret so much about it; you just need some time off and you’ll have your head set straight again.”
The truth was to stay, he wouldn’t forget the horror. Not ever, and this might be the tip of the iceberg of his career.
That one event will most likely haunt his mind, giving up his own sanity and protection for the greater good and justice of this harsh world, the very few things out there that can still keep us the few beings out there to make us feel truly human.
That one case
A case that was conjured by the devil himself for his sick enjoyment of suffering of humans, a case he just made it out alive by his own wits, knowledge, and luck. It was a case he triumphed in the end run with little to no true assistance regardless of those that stood against him due to their sheer ignorance which almost destroyed the life of an innocent father and son. It was a nightmare that will haunt his life with until he lies upon his death bed when his time comes be it as an old man or from some “other” means that would never go on public eyes or ears, due to bringing a sense of humiliation to his head administrators that this man would die in such a way. It was truly the blight of his life.
It was the dreadful case of the notorious “Origami Killer”. The killer turned out to be an overweight man with short gray hair who was living his mid-40s. Whose words serve as a deceiving pestilence that went into the ears and hearts of innocent individuals who took heed of his kindness, for of his kindly nature in such a depressing and maddening state the city was a brief moment of relief for these few people. Little did they know that thanks to the killer’s kind expression, led these people unknowingly help the very man that murdered their young ones.
They gladly handed him the evidence after a bit of trust was gained, he burned all of the evidence in a small garbage can; inside his office. The killer would then observe each bit of evidence for the last time, recalling the process on collecting it, and would then lightly toss it into the basket slightly raising it flames with each bit of evidence gone.
A perfect killer he was compared to those who rushed too far into the realms of murder, eventually leaving those tid-bits of evidence behind. A cautious, patient, smart, and silent killer he was that attracted high levels of media attention with his only victims being young boys.
Twelve young boys who were found dead with mud hiding their faces, with a little origami figure (The Pajarita or “Murder Bird”) tightly grasped on their left hand knowing there fate before passing on, along with a white orchid laying on their chest as some sort of meaning of peace from the killer. These lives now lie beneath the earth’s muddy soil whose mothers are now widows and forced to accept the reality that their children’s death were set in stone by the killer. No one knew who the killer’s true identity was until the father Ethan Mars, stepped in into the realms of hell to save his last son.
It was a long tale to speak off but in short terms. This case could be summarized in a news headline as the following; “Father Ethan Mars overcame 5 tormenting trials by the Origami Killer himself, who was willing to offer the address to Ethan to find his last son Shaun if he suffered through them in haste. After enduring the last trial, the killer sends him the remaining letter of the address on a phone provided by the killer on mail. The address leads him to a warehouse with almost no roof covering; which was filling up a well inside the warehouse to critical levels. Father Ethan Mars manages to save his son. The police finally brought down the killer whose true identity known as Scott Shelby, a mid-40 year old former police lieutenant disguised to be a private eye for the families of the murders.”
It was a relief that the case was finally closed. Granted there was no fairytale happy ending one would see in a childhood cartoon. It was safe to say, that the parents will breathe a little easier now.
Say for one of the true heroes of this case, who really stopped the killer and solved his complex puzzle.
The truth was that the Origami Killer; after a dangerous and long fight to the death against a determined FBI profiler his mid-30s on a slow-moving conveyer belt that was at a great height. The Origami Killer fell to his own gruesome death by falling on a rusty yellow operating waste crusher at the end of the conveyer belt, tearing apart his whole body. The profiler stood on an iron platform beside the end of the belt, seeing his target leaving behind nothing more than traces of fresh blood and flesh attached to the handful bits of trash on the rusted blades.
The FBI profiler by the name of “Norman Jayden” was the true American hero but like most true heroes these days, most people would usually offer someone 15 minutes of fame, this man was no exception. It didn’t matter to him though, he proved to be efficient at this case by himself, which was an impressive feat considering the force’s “help” would’ve only gotten Ethan on bars or buried on a lone grave, leaving his own son alone in a world of death, corruption, and deadly excitement.
To be more specific on the thorn of justice during the case who purposely harassed suspects with multiple blows, numerous taunts to those unlucky innocent victims clueless on the situation, was the main cause of almost killing Ethan Mars. Police officer “Lieutenant Carter Blake” was the man Jayden worked in the field when he was sent to help out the Police with the case.
A shame that little did Jayden know, that Blake was nothing more but a violent hound whose abilities to scent well have long faded ago.
Blake’s actions proved nothing more to Jayden as a “psychopathic asshole” as Jayden stated to him due to his sheer ruthless nature of harassing clients just to collect for even the vaguest of clues that lead nowhere or for nothing. Blake would then take Jayden’s statement as some form of a compliment, after he told Jayden to pack up with a false sense of pride.
Now with nothing more to do than wait before his superiors send him a ticket back to good old Washington. Jayden spends his time usually by himself to enjoy the peace at his own apartment, finishing any “paperwork” with the use of ARI (Added Reality Interface). A pair of slick-looking black shades used by FBI agents, which illuminates a blue faint glow beneath the inside of the lens when powered on along with its needed companion, a right-handed black leather glove. Its ability to scan DNA, footprints, or any possible evidence with little trouble thanks to visual enchanting the area proved a valuable asset for Norman during the case.
Despite ARI’s use as a fun little distraction for the wait, what kept popping into Jayden’s mind was the tedious wait to leave the city. He didn’t appreciate the thought of leaving early since the apartment Jayden stayed in during his time was not some sleazy motel with a creepy receptionist who’d would flash a disturbing grin on his face, he felt to it was wiser bet to not flush his superiors money down the drain for the services they have provided for Jayden.
“Just two more days in the city, finish the leftover paperwork, give my regards to the Police department and that asshole Blake and tell him that I’m glad this “partnership” is over. I’d felt like I had a lifetime amount of migraine just seeing the guy act out like he’s a hot shot. After that, I’ll go back to Washington and everything will go down smooth again. Especially when my superiors are most likely going to give me promoted. It’s all I can really ask for now.” Norman ponders as he sat on the rear end of the bed still wearing his dark grey suit from a talkshow he attended for his actions, bending his back a bit, exhausted but not drowsy enough to snooze off. Jayden then lifts up one of his hands to reach his forehead, rubbing it in a steady pace to cool down a small burning sensation on his head.
Everything seems to be going so dandy and normal now but Jayden felt disturbed of his experience. Normally Jayden could usually shrug of bad moments and move on from his past work to more important. This was not a normal disturbance that would fade away as he would’ve drifted to sleep as he hoped; he didn’t have to do anything to keep his total focus on. Norman started to recall those moments of the Origami Killer case, the children’s lifeless bodies, and his battle to the death with a violent black man commonly known as “Mad Jack” who was crushed to death by his own bulldozer at his junkyard. Jayden even encountered the killer once while the killer concealed himself, Jayden almost losing his life to him.
It didn’t help either that Jayden received no rest for nearly two days and just as if he thought he could gain his rest, it felt as if insomnia suddenly had took its toll on Jayden. He’d taken several pills of sleeping medication he purchased no less than an hour ago when he made it back to his apartment , hoping it would put him to rest. The medication didn’t aid Jayden much to his dismay. All it seemed to do was blur his vision a bit more by the hour, his thoughts were starting to become scattered, and gave him an nauseated feeling in his stomach. He had pressed one of his hands gently against his stomach to keep a grip on his vowels.
“There’s no reason to worry. I just had a rough day, that’s all. Try…. Try not to think much.” Norman reassured himself nervously to keep himself in control, but the more he tried to keep his vowels in place, the more intense the burning sensation in his stomach grew.
Jayden then feels his hands shaking in a violent, uncontrollable manner as if they were freezing out in the cold harsh winter. His body starts to shiver, his own eyes feel as if they have bloodshot scribbled all over them. Jayden urges his own arms to now hug his shoulders, rubbing himself down in a frantic rate to keep out the chill and ease the pain crawling all over his nerves.
Suddenly, Jayden couldn’t hear his breath or his hands rubbing down his body temperature.
Jayden notices his room, the brown walls concealed by the night, the large plasma TV in front of him, the empty bottle of vodka, slowly fading away to a new environment. It appeared to be the middle of a forest, presumably to be the time of autumn with this many leaves on the ground. Violent bursts of wind began to shake the shake off the trees bright honey colored and yellow fading leaves, as they float away in a fast, rotating, uneven pattern.
Jayden stops his frantic attempt to calm his own nerves; he didn’t feel the pain or the nauseas feeling in his stomach anymore, he felt as if he became at peace with himself. The forest now appears perfectly for him to view. He cannot hear the rustling of the leaves or the violent gusts of wind blowing directly at his face for that time, as if his own ears heard nothing but dead air or was now a death man. All he felt like doing do at the moment was look fixedly at this unnerving sight, like a bloodied soldier who stood in the bloody battlefield, as if he went into a 1000 yard stare into an abyss.
It was a brief illusion of pleasure that seemed to last an eternity, for Jayden was unaware of that he was now lying on the floor slowly losing conciseness, his body sweating as if it were a hot summer heat but his insides freezing like stored cow meat in a freezer.
Jayden quickly was brought back to reality.
“I can’t make a sound! My insides are killing me! I think my vocal chords are tearing apart!” Jayden panicked, frightened that the day after the killer’s death may be the day a new hero was to die.
“No! Don't think like that.. I need to.. try to stand..” Shot into Jayden’s mind, firing up his will to live.
As Jayden struggles to regain his ground as a baby would taking their first steps, determined to walk again. Jayden’s own mind knows what it craves, what can rid of the temporary burning pain succumbing him for a while, what rids of his blurred vision as if he was drunk.
Jayden takes a reluctant look at a small wooden cabinet, noticing a small glowing container he placed at in case of any problems. Jayden proceeds to stumble as if he were intoxicated like a drunk to grab hold of his “temporary cure”.
“One little sniff won’t hurt me..! I can’t keep resisting it for long.. The pain. Has to go.. away!”
Jayden’s mind urged in agony as he struggles to near the container, just a few feet away before he could extract the pain.
“What if this one sniff kills me? What then becomes of me in the papers, my dignity, and my superiors? I can’t toss all of that to waste for this. Try. Just… TRY to find a quick way to ease the pain like before. There’s no way I’m doing this again!” Jayden’s mind rushes as if someone just slapped him on the back of his head, miraculously reminding him of another alternative. His mind however, urged Jayden to at least go to the "temporary cure" before his second option, it coul be his saving grace.
Still struggling to keep his balance thanks to his feet feeling as if they fell to slumber, Jayden finally reaches the minute container.
Jayden’s hand quickly grasps the container, as Jayden attempt to open to lid. He soon realizes that his own hands barely can keep themselves at command, making this simple little task seem like a battle to the death.
“C’mon… OPEN!” Jayden shrieks in a muffled tone, agitated as his own eyes struggle to keep a good view of what he actually was doing, along with his fingers struggling to open the small cap, wishing the vile wasn’t so resistant to physical damage or else he would’ve been done by then.
Jayden’s tight hold for the vile was too much for it to stay in place for long, for it flew upwards and landed with a minute thud in a random place.
“Shit! Why does this have to me happen.. now!?” Jayden’s mind panicked, now knowing his only real option left was to distract the pain which slowly was starting to feel like the burning sensation of digesting numerous amounts of coal set in flames.
With the last bit of strength Jayden had to keep himself from dying in agony, Jayden limped his body to the left to a white door leading to the bathroom, thankfully near to the cabinet Jayden was at.
His sweating hands hardly could hold still well enough to grip the iron door knob, but with a string of luck he managed to quickly twist it and push the door to enter, only for his left leg to feel an intense pain to disrupt his already weak balance and fall hard on the floor in agony. He couldn’t even find the breath to scream at the top of his lungs to calm the pain down.
“SHIT!! I need.. to hurry!” Jayden mind fuels with a determined will to use every last bit of strength he had until the lights were out for him. Jayden pushed his right leg as a means of reaching his saving grace, along with his arms pulling alongside the floor to reach closer the inside of the bathroom.
Jayden finally managed to pull his entire body to the inside of the bathroom. The bathroom lights detected the presence of Norman. Illuminating the dark muddled objects to a now a semi clear view of Jayden of what was what.
Jayden stopped crawling, and then fixed his eyes to the left. Noticing closely to him was a shower stall.
With every bit of strength his arms and right leg had, now being drained rapidly along with a small clutch amount of hope gained, Jayden began to crawl again to reach the shower.
As Jayden reached the inside of the shower stall, there was an abrupt deafening sound, just outside the bathroom of what sounded like a explosive had just detonated.
“Jayden… Raise your arm.. hit the switch.. and then I won’t hear THAT again.” Jayden thinks sarcastically, assuming he lost his marbles.
As he reached to the end of the shower stall, Jayden’s left arm reached to hit a button of a white box, triggering the shower to release its supply of pure, refreshing water to finally bring an end to Jayden’s mental breakdown.
A stream of water poured onto Jayden, soaking his soul with the feeling of comfort and perfect harmony. Jayden’s back rested upon the wall with his legs laid in curved position, as the remedy began to process its dose of natural medication to Jayden’s nerves.
Jayden halted any other thoughts in his mind outside of the current situation; he felt a sense of satisfaction that he finally gained a sense of relief. It was oddly, enough to make him feel drowsy. The water was cold enough to calm his nerves down vastly; his mind barely had the energy to think besides a few sets of words at the moment.
As Jayden’s eyes slowly blinked him to sleep, he suddenly notices a small looking figure that was just a few feet away from him. It resembled some form of a small animal that he couldn’t make up of its textures or even its face. All that he notices was its body and head along with its color; pink, purple, or maybe both.
The figure tilted its head to the left, staring at Jayden as if it he were a puppy.
“Guess my time is… up” Jayden thought, too relaxed to be even the slightest anxious. Maybe the afterlife wouldn’t be such a bad idea in the end.
With these last thoughts, Jayden’s eyes gradually began to close.
His mind was now at peace.
(AN: Not a fan of shoving AN down your throats folks but if any of you give a damn. I’d be happy to have an experience pre-reader fix any of the bells and whistles of this story. I digress, I urge you people not to let your love for the story being based on the fantastic game “Heavy Rain”, prevent you from tossing me some decent tips and helpful criticism. Just remember, anything along the lines of “this shit is mad gay” will not improve my skill as a writer. For the closure, hope you enjoyed it and sadly, I will not include mister Jayden’s lulzy accent as I feel the story would be hilarious in the most awkward of moments. Also expect that one particular pony to appear in no-time).
