White steel sheet walls brighten up the office. The glass barrier separates the groups. The bright blonde bob receptionist is guiding me through the different levels, her shoes clicking against the tiles. Blue illuminates from the screen and lights, giving the office a nightly feel. The building branches in multiple directions, giving a callback to the complicity of Diablo's Paraiso. She taps her ID against the wooden door, bringing us into another office lined with computers and desks.
Stopping at the glass door, she knocks her knuckles against it and gives me a small smile. "During the night, he tends to use his Airpods." She bangs on the door again, louder this time.
My curly brown hair friend scrunches his face in confusion, takes an AirPod out, and glances at the door. With a sly smirk, I wave my hand before sticking out the middle finger. He chuckles, rising from his seat, and shuffles to the door.
"Thanks, Joy," he says, basically shooing her away. "Asiel, I haven't seen you since Alexandra's graduation. How you been doing, man?"
I shrug, following him into his private office. "You know, the same old shit with my family. Congratulations, by the way. I heard you purposed to Alexandra."
His cheeks redden like a cherry. "Yeah, I fucking almost shat myself. It might've been lame, but I proposed to her in front of Coffee bean. It's when I finally man the fuck up and asked her out."
My battered heart swells with happiness. Love has always been an unorthodox concept in my household. Not only was my relationship with my papa rocky, but my parents weren't any better. My papa cheated on my mama any chance he got, and didn't try to hide it either. Mama acted as if we lived in a parallel universe where my papa really cared about us. To say the least, the concept of love seemed to be just that.
A concept.
A dream.
Maybe even a nightmare.
Until I watched my two best friends fall in love with each other.
Spencer and Alexandra were the classic enemies-to-lovers type of story. Spencer and I met in boarding school, ultimately ending up at the same University. While NYU promoted individuality, I wasn't typically an extrovert and spent half the semester to myself. After a group project, I became acquainted with Alexandra and introduced her to Spencer. They were complete opposites in everything.
Music. Clothing. Food. Major. Movies.
Name it, and they would probably spend hours fighting about it.
Then everything changed like a light switch, light to dark. One day they were fighting, then I found them making out on his bed. Our dynamic did a one-eighty, and I became the third wheel to a lovey, dovey couple. It was a culture shift compared to my parent's relationship, watching two individuals caring for one another.
For the first time, I wanted to experience love.
Like the Titanic or the Notebook.
I liked girls here and there, but I never met the one. Nobody stole my attention the way Mika does every time she's in the room. It's foolish of me to search for love with a woman so detached from this world. Regardless of the warning signs, red flags, and unpredictability, I cared about her. Every fiber of my being told me to run, but my heart yearns to stay and try it out. Maybe she's just a crosswalk through my journey, or she could be my final stage.
"That's sweet," I reply, smiling. "Did you cry first? Or did Alexandra. My bets are on you."
A rumble of laughter leaves his chest as he punches my shoulder. "Fuck you. Stop clowning me. I didn't mean to get emotional. It was a life-changing moment."
I dismiss him with my hand. "I'm not clowning. I'm fucking ecstatic for you guys. Though I'm hurt since I heard I'm not the best man. How can you do that when I introduced you guys in the first place?"
His ears shine pink from embarrassment. "I-I would've, but my brother begged, so... You know. He will never forgive me if I chose you over him. Now, did you really come here to congratulate me on my engagement?"
An awkward smile stretches over my face. "You're right. I had some questions about my brother's cas-."
His eyes widen with alert. "Asiel, I cannot speak about any of my cases with an outsider. It's confidential. Last time was a misjudgment because I felt guilty, but I can't risk my job to help you. My actions don't only reflect me anymore."
I nod, banging my knuckle on the desk. "Name a price then."
He scoffs, eyeing me with disbelief. "This has to be some kind of joke. Are you seriously trying to buy me?"
"Listen, I can imagine how much money it takes to plan a wedding, and I'm willing to offer you extra cash," I explain, maintaining a soothing, calming tone. "But to make some money, I need a favor. Please."
Spencer smacks his lips together, his brows furrowing as he glances at the workers passing by the office. "Ten thousand."
A bit lower than I expected, but I'm not complaining.
"Done."
Spencer pivots on his soles straight to his filed cabinets, pulling open the drawer assigned with the letter 'M-P.' His eyebrows pull tight in concentration as his fingers move swiftly through the files. Anticipation drums in veins like a ticking time bomb. He shared the file with me when they originally closed my brother's case a few months ago. Questions loom in my mind like loose wolves in the wild.
He pulls out a thin beige folder and dumps it on the desk. "Here. We haven't added anything to it since the last time you have seen it."
Giving the folder a stagnant stare, I walk over and hand him a sticky note with names written on it. "I need these folders as well. I also want to pick your brain with a few of my theories."
He heaves a sigh as he scavengers for the additional files. "I see. You still haven't given up hope of finding the truth. I don't know what to tell you, Asiel. All the evidence points to suicide. The only questionable evidence is the lone feather, but it isn't enough to point fingers. There are no fingerprints or evidence of a break-in and only self-inflicted wounds."
My stomach coils like curd milk as I open the file, feeling a pang of regret at his bright picture. It's cruel. There's no doubt in my mind that there's more to the story. Psychology wasn't my best subject, but weren't there be clues if he planned to end everything? Things that were easy to skim over at the time, but when everything subsided made absolute sense. I couldn't find anything.
I traced my steps multiple times, and not one thing pointed to a suicide. But could my mind be playing tricks on me? Am I turning a blind eye in order for the narrative to fit in the way I wanted?
Spencer chucks the last folder in my direction. "What are you looking for, exactly?"
Spreading all the files open on the desk, I take out an identical picture of one sole white feather left at each crime scene. "This. Spencer, it can't be a coincidence that a feather winds up in all these scenes. Think about it. Everyone here has one thing in common. The Mafia. Death is expected, but why is the murderer going through this much trouble to get rid of everyone?"
Spencer uses his sleeves to clean his glasses and give the pictures another look. "The feather has been reported in each file, but it doesn't prove anything. It raises some eyebrows, nothing else."
I rub my hand down my chin. "Then answer this, why is my brother's case the only one classified as a suicide? Abel, Violetta, Felix, Tomas, and Juan are all murder cases. The feather has to be some kind of trademark, and my brother got tangled in it."
He coughs, pulling out his ergonomic chair. It creaks as he sits in it, rubbing his palms up and down his thighs. His eyes dart around the room, conveying an anxious, jumpy, neurotic demeanor. Apprehensive radiates off him like smoke from a cigarette. He's hiding something and is contemplating saying it.
Spencer eyes me warily, almost fearful of how I would react. "When we had this conversation a few months back, I started questioning things. Saying the Morterero name is like speaking of Voldemort. The agents didn't want to deal with your father's wrath, so they closed the case."
My eyebrows knit together. "Are you implying the case would've stayed open if it wasn't for my papa?"
The new information oils the clanks in my brain as the wheel starts spinning a million miles per hour. My papa sealing Ander's case doesn't sound as absurd as Spencer probably thinks. The way my papa treats us isn't something I advertised when I went to boarding school. Our familia's money was a different story. It wasn't until I fully understood my familia's empire that I shared the dark secret with him.
Sweat glistens from his forehead, trickling down his face before he wipes it with his sleeves. "He tortured the head director to keep us from sharing anything. If we investigated further, he would bring our families into it. Naturally, everyone turned a blind eye. In my own time, I've been trying to find any information on an existing trademark."
My heart beats in anticipation. "Stop the dramatics and tell me."
He licks his lips, sparing a concerned glance. "You should double the amount if I'm risking my life for you."
I playfully roll my eyes. "Alright, now sing like a bird. I want to know every single fucking thing you found out."
Spencer's laugh is infused with uneasiness as the sweat comes through his light gray suit. He drops onto his knees, kicking my feet away as he pulls out a small locked safe. A chirp chimes with every click of a digit, and opens up to a collage of paper-clipped pages. It's almost like a scene of a conspiracy theorist with red marks linking everything.
"Have you ever heard of Mictlantecuhtli?"
An eerie shiver rolls down my spine. "It's one of those creepypasta stories, right?"
As I waited, on edge, for Spencer's response, I felt a sinister breath lurk through the room. "No, but it's supposedly a myth. Mictlantecuhtli translates to the Lord of the Land of the Dead to the Aztecs. He ruled the underworld with his wife, Mictecacihuatl. The myth goes with Mictlantecuhtli's attempt at delaying the god, Ehecatl-Quetzalcoatl on his journey to the underworld."
Unclipping the pages, he slipped pictures of a skeleton cover in blood splotches, a necklace of eyeballs on its neck, and a costume made of owl feathers. "Quetzalcoatl was searching for the bones left from the previous world to recreate mankind. Mictlantechuhtli constructed tricks and difficult tasks to length Quetzalcoatl's long journey in the underworld. Like magic, he got around Mictlantechuhtli's obstacles, and Mictlatechuhtli allowed it."
The spine-chilling eye sockets penetrate through mine, sending my stomach through a world of uneasy whirls. "As retaliation, Mictlatechuhtli arranged for his assistants to dig a large pit by the exit of the underworld. Sure enough, when Quetzalcoatl passed the pit, he fell straight in and broke the bones. Decades passed until Quetzalcoatl roused himself and managed to extract himself from the pit. Once delivered to the goddess, the bones were mixed with Quetzalcoatl's blood, which sprang forth humankind."
Confusion clouds the clogs in my brain. "What does this myth have to do with the cases?"
Spencer lowers his voice, speaking in mute, faint tones. "As the ruler of the underworld, all souls would one day meet him face to face. Mictlatechuhtli's favorite kinds of people were murderers, rapists, pedophiles, and abusers. He loved sentencing them to death in the afterlife with only a sole feather as proof of their existence. Allegedly, it's been circulating the Mafia inner circle that Mictaltechuhtli is collecting his dues."
Realization dawns on me. "So, it's a copycat, right? Because there's no way Mictalechuhtli came out from the underworld."
Spencer rambles, "My theory is it's a hitman. A fucked-up human being that likes frightening their prey with this myth. Someone experienced and powerful enough to cover up if needed. The cases you asked for are only the beginning. There's about one-hundred more varying from ten years back."
In front of Spencer, I hold on to my facade, remaining calm and poise with the knowledge. When in reality, I am barely clasping onto the string of sanity. My brother isn't the only victim. There are countless of them, but why? If the killer used Mictalechuhtli's logic, then how did my brother correlate? Was Mateo right? How well did I know my brother? Did he only reveal the outskirts of himself to me?
An anxious breath croaks out. "This is fucking insane."
A trembling sigh leaves his lips. "It doesn't end there. Kwon Nam-Seon. There were talks that he was fired from the task force because of his independent investigation of Mictalechuhtli. As I said, the police aren't as trustworthy as they're portrayed. Money silences people, but not Kwon. Ultimately, this investigator led him to his death only a few months after starting."
The fake Mictalechuhtli.
It had to be them.
Spencer continues, "He kept his research confidential, but I didn't give up. His family in Gangwon-do kept his old handwritten journals. I'm working on convincing his wife to hand them over. It's possible he found something important enough to get him killed."
He smacks his lips. "However, I'm wary. I want to keep looking for you, and the individuals being wrongly murdered, but I don't want to die."
I nod. "I would never ask that of you. My brother's death is extremely important to me, but I can't ask you to sacrifice everything to find the truth. You have a family, I-I have no one. I'm a pawn in a big game of chess disguised as a king."
Spencer gives a long pause. "I-I want to be a good friend to you, Asiel. Give you peace of mind and a blessing to move on."
A small smile curls on my lips. "Seriously, it's not worth risking your life. I'm relieved in a way. Finally, I'm getting confirmation of my suspicions. I believed in it, but sometimes Mateo will stir me away. He doesn't even let me explain anything before treating me like a five-year-old. I knew I wasn't losing it. Thanks for believing in me."
His eyes crinkle as his lips stretch to a grin. "Of course. But Asiel, I don't think you should spend years trying to solve this. Death will come if you do. Live a little. You're a twenty-one-year-old, bright man with a bank waiting to drain. It's time to experience adult things like falling in love."
The idea of falling in love evokes a single image in my brain.
Mika.
"Shit. Are you already experiencing it?" Spencer asks, his eyebrows wiggling.
I scratch the back of my neck. "N-No. I met this extraordinary girl, but it's doom. She's made it extremely clear that she wants nothing romantic with me. It's hard. I know she's going to break me, but I can't stay away. I'm hoping it's just infatuation, but every day we spend together proves it isn't."
Spencer smirks with his annoying proud gaze. "My little boy is growing up." He ruffles my hair like Ander used to do. "Just take it one day at a time. Feelings can change, but don't expect them to. She's made things clear, so don't push her buttons. It only pushes them away. Regarding your brother's case, take a break and worry about winning this girl over."
I hesitate before replying with, "I'll think about it."
It's almost impossible to let go now.
Spencer has gone so far.
I might as well finish his journey, right?
Back to the case 👀 are you guys invested as much as Asiel? The only sucky thing was no Mika :( , but a lot of thoughts about Mika 🤪which is second best! Ahhh, Asiel is so cute for being so into Mika, don't you agree??
What do you guys think about the case?
Do you think Asiel's papa has something to do with it? Or is it a coincidence?
Who do you guys dislike more Luka, Asiel's papa, or Diablo? 🤔I would be really happy to know! Let me know!
Thank you so much for reading this chapter and I hope it entertained you or made your day a just a tiny bit better!! I'll be back in a few days for the next update!!
Love ya ❤️❤️