The Detective And The Monster

𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗: 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚘 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛

WARNINGS:
Mentions of blood
Death of a child

*.*.*.*

Zack hummed, a grin pulling across his bandaged face. The lights flickered back on, and he tilted his head up, now knowing the whereabouts of the giggling punk.

He was sitting on top of a grave–one of the many that he destroyed–with both hands against his mask, which Zack saw as childish and dopey. He thought it looked like an oversized coconut with awfully cut holes for eyes and an unbalanced line for a mouth.

"Heya Zack!" The boy said with suspicious amounts of enthusiasm. He was small, and by his voice, it was clear to tell he was a child, barely a teen at this point. He was also short in stature, even though he was sitting down, Zack could tell he practically towered over the kid.

Other than his dumb-looking mask, he wore a maroon scarf loosely around his neck. The most noticeable thing about his attire was the white shirt he wore, which was stained with small dots of dried blood, located at the edges of his sleeves and neck collar. The shirt appeared to be worn, assuming it had gone through numerous uses, and most likely hadn't been washed. The overalls he wore covered the rest of his outfit - and most likely, more blood - they looked like they, too, had been in use for quite a long time. The overalls had huge pockets, leaving the question of what was stored in them. His gloves were made of black, thick rubber, but they were exceedingly oversized as if they didn't belong to him. And finally, the kid's boots were the same texture as the gloves, but this time, they seemed to fit him perfectly.

Behind him, up against a destroyed grave, was a shovel that seemed to have gone through a lot of service but was also polished and sharpened regularly. Though the kid seemed high and mighty, Zack wasn't phased in the slightest.

Swiftly, the boy jumped off the disabled grave, not forgetting to grab his shovel before walking towards Zack with a pep in his step.

"Y'know. . . I went through all this trouble to make a grave just for you, and you even destroyed that one! You even destroyed her grave, now that's not nice," the kid said, gesturing his gloved hand toward 'Zack's grave.' The boy sounded disappointed but in a mischievous way.

"That grave was shitty anyways!" Zack exclaimed, swinging his scythe at the kid once he got close enough. However, the kid swiftly sidestepped the attempted assault. Zack huffed in irritation as the boy folded his hands behind himself, holding the shovel sideways, and started rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "I had to make yours in a hurry, so sorry about that!" Zack knew he wasn't sorry.

"But, I thought the headstone was perfect for you, it suited you amazingly!" Zack swung at the kid once more, only for him to dodge effortlessly yet again. It annoyed Zack beyond belief.

"Besides, I was more focused on that detective's grave. They were the original sacrifice, so it only made sense, right? I even put it right next to her's."

Who was this "her" that this kid was obsessively talking about?

"That detective's interesting, don't you think? Most people down here are terrified and die on your floor, but finally, I get a living sacrifice." This kid seemed ecstatic. So, incredibly, happy, as if he had infrequently met a human individual in years.

The kid started kicking his feet, circling Zack like a lion to a Zebra. It was meant to be intimidating, but was Zack intimidated? Not at all. Not a chance.

"I've been bored since she left me, I was always digging holes for dead people. I didn't mind the work, it was fun! But I never get to talk to the person one-on-one, so I don't get a good feeling about the people I bury. When I encountered her, it was love at first sight! But with the detective, they seem to know a lot about dead people and killers. I'd love to have a talk and learn from them!" What would this kid learn from Y/n? New ways to kill?