|Eight|

•Week One• (3)

(A/N) The song above has been stuck in my head, so yeah. Anyway, I'm putting out a lot of chapters today, but I guess that's because I just felt like writing.

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We froze when we heard the office door opening, and noise from the building flooded into the room.

I quickly hid, hoping Jack found somewhere to hide, too.

I held my breath. A headache was starting to form and my pulse was skittering rapidly. Whoever walked into the office simply grabbed a mug off of the desk and walked out. I gave a sigh of relief and got out of my hiding spot to try and find Jack.

He also slipped out of his hiding place and gave me a worried look.

"We need to go," I said, and he nodded in agreement.

We slipped out of the office and out of the building.

~

When we got back home, I glanced at Jack. "Dang it, we didn't look at the case report at all."

Jack blushed in embarrassment. "Yeah, but I might've... Um... Stolen it?" He nervously laughed and pulled out the file from his jacket.

I facepalmed. "We were in trouble before, but now we're dead."

Jack poked himself, confused. "I don't feel dead-"

"I didn't mean literally!"

Jack laughed. "I know, I was just joking."

"You stole from a detective and you're making jokes?"

"Hey! You agreed to be my partner, so technically, WE stole from the detective," he replied.

My heart dropped. We were in so much trouble.

"Anyway, since we have it... We might as well look in it, right?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded.

Jack opened it and we were both incredibly disappointed. It only had two pages, and it was all about the victim. There was nothing about the killer.

"Well, at least they probably won't miss this file," Jack said.

"Whatever. Let's read about the victim."

Jack nodded.

I held it open and read the inked words. "The victim was male, 6ft5, red hair, blue eyes, worked at a hospital, was antisocial, no friends and no family."

Jack interrupted. "He sounds like a sad guy, honestly. Imagine being lonely all your life and then BAM! You're suddenly murdered brutally."

I ignored Jack. "But wait... The police said it was a crime of passion, but this guy didn't know anyone. It says here that his co-workers didn't even know he existed for several years."

"So...?"

"So if this guy didn't know anyone, that means he didn't make any friends or enemies. So... Who would want to kill him?"

"Uh, I dunno."

I ran a hand through my hair and leaned back in my seat.

"Maybe we're looking at this wrong," Jack suggested. "What if the murderer killed this guy in self defense? I mean, this guy was isolated his whole life and that can definitely mess up someone's mind... So what if the 'victim' snapped and attacked somebody, and the 'murderer' killed him out of self defense?."

I paused, and thought it over. "That's an interesting theory, but the victim had ten stab wounds, remember? Someone who was protecting themselves wouldn't stab someone that many times."

Jack shrugged. "Maybe they were really freaked out?"

I shook my head. "No, that doesn't make sense either..."

Jack crossed his arms defiantly. "Well, at least I'm coming up with ideas."

I scoffed but said nothing.

~

I spent the whole day with Jack, discussing theories and ideas, but we weren't getting anywhere at all.

Jack sighed, standing up and stretching. I rubbed my tired eyes and frowned, looking at the time. "It's 6PM, we should probably get Ryan for dinner."

"What's for dinner?" Jack asked.

I shrugged. "We'll order a pizza or something."

He nodded, walking towards Ryan's room. I heard him knock and open the door.

There was an achingly long silence, and then a blood-curdling scream sounded down the hall.

I ran to the room, but before I could go in, Jack ran out and we crashed into each other. "Ow!" Jack hissed in pain, rubbing his head.

I ignored the pain and instead asked, "What's wrong?! Where's Ryan?!"

Jack was shaking uncontrollably, but he quickly responded. "The r-room is... c-covered in blood-" Jack took a deep breath before continuing, "He's gone, Adam. Ryan is gone."

I ran into the room, darting my gaze across the living space. Jack was right, there was blood across the ceiling, walls, and Ryan's white pillows.

I felt sick, and slowly walked out of the room to find Jack throwing up in a bucket.

Apparently he was sick, too.

I didn't know what to say, but once Jack was done and all cleaned up he wouldn't shut up.

"IT'S THE MURDERER! HE ADULTNAPPED RYAN!"

I couldn't think at all, which irritated me.

"THEY KILLED HIM, ADAM! RYAN'S DEAD!" Jack continued to cry, his eyes bloodshot.

"No! Ryan isn't dead!" I snapped, more harshly than I intended. Jack flinched back.

I spoke again, calmer this time. "I mean, we don't know if he's..... If he's...."

"Dead?" Jack finished my sentence.

"Yes. We don't know that."

He sighed, his arms dropping to his sides. "Well, what are we going to do?"

The sick feeling increased. "We're going to find him. We're going to catch the killer and save Ryan."

Jack lit up. "Yeah!"

In all honesty, I didn't know where to start exactly, but we couldn't report it to the police since we just barely stole from them. So it was just Jack and I against a psychopath.