Century

I. A Dead Man's Suicide [II]

9th November 2015, 18:30:45

Saint Vincent's Church, London

Oz could hear the silent weeps and mourns of men, women and children who had arrived no more than an hour before clad in black dresses and suits as the familiar tune of 'Ave Maria' begun to resound in the hall, setting the sombre ambience of the dreadful occasion. He could feel himself bow his head instinctively as if to pay respect to the fallen man. After all, death was not his choice but forced upon him by another's hand.

'Beep.' He heard an odd sound resonating from his right, cancelling the forlorn atmosphere that the funerals created. He could hear himself inhale slightly, forcing his eyes to follow the men in smart suits with dismal expressions carrying the polished black coffin down the aisle.

'Beep.' He could hear the sound again - this time followed by a small fit of giggles. He could see a hint of happy movements from the corner of his right eye but he was more than determined to ignore the abnormally that sat beside him.

'Beep.' He inhaled sharply, supressing the pesky temptation to turn his head.

'Beep.' He closed his eyes and thought of the- 'Beep' He- 'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'Beep' 'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'BEEP.'

"ALRIGHT!" Oz roared, turning his attention to the duo that sat on both sides of him that sat beside him. Suddenly, he heard a loud 'shhhhhh'-ing sound directed at him. It was a woman in her mid-thirties, her eyes hidden behind her veil. She had a finger firmly pressed against her pursed lips, signalling silence. He could feel embarrassment burning his cheeks as he realised the ludicrous volume of which he had spoken in. Indeed, it was loud enough for the entire hall to hear and true enough, several heads were turned to him – some with disappointment, others with remorse but, overall, with displeasure.

"Dear me, you should learn to keep your volume low, detective." Oz could hear half of the hindrance speak the moment all heads returned to face the front. By this point, Oz was already restraining himself from manslaughter. Well, technically, he could and no one would know.

"Yes," He took a moment to recollect himself, remembering the Commissioner's warnings about them. He looked towards the rather remarkably dressed blonde girl and, then, to her taller and much more ordinarily dressed friend. A strange combination they were indeed, Oz thought to himself.

'Beep.' Right – and, once again, Oz could hear his own blood pressure rising due to the nautical nonsense of the pair. By this point, he was already a hundred percent sure that he shouldn't have tried to separate the two just because they were being slightly noisy. At least, if he hadn't sinned in such a way, he would be spared from the endless texts that they were sending each other despite being only a butt space apart.

"Is this necessary for your survival?" Oz groaned as he put a hand on both phones causing the two to look up in pure indignation.

"Well, detective, you shouldn't have even attempted the horrible stunt of dividing us." He could hear the brown-haired boy speak matter-of-factly.

"Forgive me for trying to respect poorly departed Philip Thawne." Oz replied.

"You are completely not forgiven." He could hear the satisfaction in the girl's voice as she smirked and proceeded with removing his hand from her screen so she could continue with whatever texting she was doing again. Similarly, the boy did the same – not bothering with another word to the detective who, by now, had already resigned to the unfortunate circumstances his job had led him to.