My Case Files: A Collection of Mystery & Crime Short Stories

⠀ CASE NO. 4: The Incident at the Rave (pt. 3)

"Fuck!" Cal cussed and stomped. He retreated back to Lisa and let out a cry.

The girl in neon started once again. "Why hasn't the people who's been let out called the police yet?"

Mark's girlfriend, Angie, by his side suggested. "God knows what the killer actually had planned for those sadistic people."

Mark looked at the LCD to see only twenty-six minutes left on the clock. "GUYS! We haven't got much time left! Everyone, PLEASE!" Trying desperately to refocus everyone's attention.

A few bottles of whiskey shattered on the wall... Of course, which were caused by the same woman who'd been at the bar throughout all the commotion that had been taking place.

This had proven again to catch everyone's attention, and it fell silent. She gestured for Mark to go on.

"Thank you... ?"

"Sasha," she replied with a faint smile almost.

"... Sasha," he completed, nodding at her, and returned to the crowd. "I think what we should identify are those who personally know someone else besides their partner?"

"Well fuckin' hell, we're a group of friends over here!" one of Cal's friends exclaimed.

Cal responded instead, "Then someone else besides your partner that you've got bad blood with?"

"Oh, no!" Sasha jeered and Cal gave her the side-eye and failed to ignored her.

"Serious bad blood, okay?" Mark added. "No petty grudges and all that... I think you can differentiate!"

People then started to discuss among themselves. With some not bothering at all, accepting their fate. The rest, passed out from either alcohol or panic-perhaps both.

Meanwhile, Mark was pulled to the side by his girlfriend, Angie. "Mark... Do we count, you know..." she asks hesitantly.

"Count what?" said Mark, little did he know that Cal was overhearing.

"My former boss is here..."

"Oh, him? Wait.. it was him?"

"Yeah," Angie replied lowly.

"Hey!" Cal interrupted the two. "What do we do now? Don't you think we should question the guards? They do respond, you know."

Mark straightened himself out. "Well, okay. What do we ask, though?"

"Let's see," Cal said to himself as he pulled Mark along with him to a guard.

There they stood, in front of a big guard. Cal cleared his throat and spoke up, "Uh, do you know each one of us here... I mean our personal profiles?"

Mark looked expectantly at the still silent guard. Cal scratched his head, thinking of another question, but the guard finally responded, "Affirmative."

Cal jumped, placed his hand on Mark's shoulder, and added, "So how 'bout Mark here." Which he received a strange look for before continuing, "Is he The One?"

"That is confidential information," the guard firmly informed him.

Mark slapped his arm away. "So what now?"

"Okay, then..." He rubbed his temple. "I mean, does Mark have a criminal record?"

"Negative," the guard answered.

"Great!" Cal sarcastically rejoiced. Evidently growing uneasy. "We can definitely ask these guards anything! Well, besides a few specific ones-- "

Mark interrupted, "Is the killer truly here, or are they just trying to rile us up?"