Making it Bizarre and Weird - The Detective Girl

Chapter 07 - The Crime

She barely saw the man before she crashed into him. Her lips had time to part, but only a groan escaped her throat when she harshly landed on top of him. Her heart was still pounding aggressively in her chest and her breaths were uneven while she pushed herself up, looking into a pair of identical-colored blue eyes.

"...Are we going to do this more often?" was the stiff reply of the young man underneath her. But instead of apologizing, she clutched the hems of his blouse tightly and pulled him closer with enough determination to lift him a couple of good inches from the velvet-red carpet. "You," she breathed. "Where were you?"

Gazing into the detective girl's eyes, his surprised expression faded into a sullen look.

"Where was I?" he repeated, his hands folding over hers. "I was looking for you! I went to our guest rooms, but you weren't there, so I changed first and – do you even know what kind of hell I just went through!?" he exclaimed in one long breath.

Her different colored eyes narrowed and her grip on his clean white blouse slacked. There was a huff from her lips and he felt her breath on his neck. "Fair enough," she muttered. "You did change your clothes back."

"...So did you," was the reply. The light-brown cape and detective hat were only a familiar sight. He watched her rise from the floor gracefully, standing up in one fluid movement. While he needed his hands to lift himself, she did not need the support.

"I am taking these back," she stated, her strict gaze on him. It was only then that he noticed the keys in her hand. He stiffened, his hand automatically diving into his right pocket. How did she take it out of his pocket without him noticing anything?

She took one glance at the set of keys, before heaving a sigh. "But it seems that it will already be too late..." she declared, stepping away to turn into the hallway.

The writer blinked. "What..." he could only bring out. He took quick steps after her. "Did something happen?"

There was a vacant look in her eyes when she gazed back at him. "Of course it did..." she casually stated. "Isn't that why we came here to begin with?"

He could only try to grasp the meaning behind her words. "You mean that a crime has already been committed?" he asked her. "...A murder?"

She did not answer. Instead, she stopped before the first door they came across in the hallway and tried several keys on it before it finally clicked. Now unlocked, Len prepared himself to enter it. But instead of grasping the door handle to open the door, she walked away. Puzzled, his steps were right behind her as she attempted to unlock the second door. Once more, she decided to desert it once it unlocked. She walked through the hallway like this, unlocking four more doors, causing the writer to grow more confused with each door she did not open. "...What are you doing?" he finally asked.

The next door clicked. "Surely you can see that yourself," she muttered.

The young man frowned at her evasive answer. "You know what I mean. What are you searching for?"

For a brief moment, her eyes met his. "Why, the crime scene of course."

But instead of giving clearance, this answer just brought more confusion. "The crime could not have happened here," he protested. "These doors were locked before the masquerade started. No one is be able to enter any room on this entire floor."

Pulling the key back from the seventh door that unlocked, she stuck out her arm to him. The keys jingled in front of the writer, just inches away from his nose. "The set is incomplete."

Blinking, the writer was taken aback when she proceeded along. "There are eight keys on this set," she explained then, searching for the key to fit the lock that would send an audible click through the hallway. "How many doors had we locked, Len?"