Glass Eye (Eyeless Jack X Reader)

Chapter Two

I'd only ever seen those cheesy interviews about a missing or passed away family member in movies, where the good cop and bad cop bring the person in question into an interrogation room and use either threats or subtle encouragement to look for answers.

No matter how much emotion nor intensity movies were able to show, they'd never truly capture the raw mix of awful feelings that swelled inside as I looked down at him, his face nearly unrecognizable in the crime scene photos. They had asked me to sit, but I refused.

I stifled back sobs as they asked their questions. A few times during the "interview", or more accurately, interrogation, I felt like throwing up.

Would you ever plan the death of Henry?

Never. He wasn't a great man, but he didn't deserve death.

Did you have anything to do with the death of Henry?

No. I'd never intentionally hurt him.

Do you know if Henry had any enemies?

I paused at this question. Henry had worked in a high-profile office as a financial planner and had multiple pieces of information at his disposal that could potentially make or break the company if leaked. 

"Come to think of it," My voice was hitched and dull from dryness. I must have cried out all the water I had in my body at this point. "He knew a lot of financial information about his company, h-he was an accountant with them or something."

As I spoke, one of the officers, nametag reading "Neil", grabbed a yellow notepad off of the desk I stood in front of and jotted down a few notes.

"I-I'm thinking maybe somebody knew he had access codes and stuff on his laptop, but I have no idea who would do this to him. He d-didn't really leave the house. He didn't have many friends," My breath caught in my throat as I spoke. It was still a very heavy thought weighing on me that he wouldn't be coming back. He wasn't still at work. He wasn't hung up on the side of the road somewhere with a flat tire. He wasn't stuck at a dinner meeting with his boss to discuss finances. He was dead.

DEAD.DEAD.DEAD.

I couldn't do the interview for much longer, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to make my legs hold my weight upright and just breathing felt manual. Why do they insist on taking you directly to the police station after they tell you such awful news?

"Thank you for this information, I know this is probably really difficult to do, but we have just a few more questions. Do you think you'll be able to sit through the rest?"

I nodded, not even thinking about my movements. If they could just ask the questions, maybe I'd be numb enough to answer without much thought.

"We have reason to suspect it may have very well been foul play, as we touched on earlier. We found multiple prints inside the vehicle and on his body. It seems as if he had been robbed while still alive. In order to help us solve this, we really need a name or an address, anything, to help us catch this guy. Nothing, Miss (Last Name)?"

Foul play. Foul play? Somebody planned this?

Somebody planned this. They robbed him after they crashed into him. They could have dialed an ambulance and made their escape if they really needed to rob him that badly. But to let him lie there and die? To leave him alone, afraid and likely writhing in pain.

Only a monster could be capable of such a thing.

--You've made it through this insufferable fanfiction to chapter two! I applaud you! There's a next chapter or two, so here's an apple juice and a high-five for the road. And, as always, if you're going to Meeatball, do it Extravagantly. <3---