It is a lovely Monday morning in Paris. The streets aren’t very busy and

people are sound asleep. The morning doves are singing sweet tunes while the sun awakes from its nap.

\~BEEP BEEP BEEP\~ Pierre’s alarm goes off. Half-awake, he tries hitting the alarm clock, missing each time. His sight hasn’t fully recovered from his sleep, so it’s still blurry.

He stares at the ceiling blankly for about a minute till he forces himself to get out of his bed. He slips into his work clothes, which are a white dress shirt, a black blazer, and black pants.

He opens his curtain, revealing the pink and orange colours of the sky. While he opens his window, a large gust of wind blows through his silky blonde hair, blowing away his papers on his desk.

Come on, I have to reorganize my papers again...

He makes a pouty face as he reorganized all his papers for the third time this week. He lives alone and usually works in an with no one to bother him.

He’s used to being alone.

Looking at one of his papers, he reads it out loud. “Liz, age 16, was stabbed in the throat three times before dying of blood loss. She was last seen with two women about 40-50 years old near ‘Hotel des invalides’.” he stopped reading and continued gathering the papers.

Rest In Peace Liz, the world is too cruel for people like you. It must’ve hurt a lot but now you’re safe.

Pierre is a detective. He was homeschooled and finished the equivalent of high school when he was ten years old. He spent the rest of his years studying criminal justice and other subjects in university.

His idea of a good day is figuring out as many cases as he can so other people are safe. Pierre was abused as a kid and lost his little sister because of his parents’ violence. Other people feeling fear he went through is something that he wants to prevent.

Pierre finishes stacking his papers. He walks out his door and rushes down the stairs, slipping on his shoes to go outside. Every morning, he drives to his favourite café to drink his morning coffee and croissant. He always sits alone in the same seat thinking about many things going on in his life, which made him feel as if he wasn’t alone.

He runs out the door holding a briefcase filled with documents. He hops into his silver truck. He starts driving and pulls out his glove compartment with one hand while driving. It is filled with lollipops of all flavours. After all, he’s a kid at heart. He randomly picks out a lollipop, luckily he picks his favourite. He pops the cherry lollipop into his mouth.

He turns to Plâtre street to notice a family of four and a Golden Retriever crossing the road unexpectedly. There wasn’t enough time to stop, if he did he’d hit them. Pierre swerves the car to avoid hitting anyone.

BANGGGG

Lights out.

Where am I?

Pierre looks around after he realizes he was just in his bed. “It’s past 6:00, I’m gonna be late for work.” Pierre sighed, getting out of his warm bed. As he steps on the floor, a big rush of coldness runs through his body.

He puts on his work clothes and wanders to his window. His fingers were about to lift it, but he stopped.

I shouldn’t open the windows, it’s already way too cold to do that.

He turns around to take his files. Pierre stops walking and stands gazing at his desk, puzzled.

I’ve always kept my papers in the same spot, now they’re all gone.

He examines the room from top to bottom, but he can’t find any signs of a break-in. “No choice but to tell the police that I lost those.” he sniffled worrying about what will happen to his job.

The police might give me copies of the files. They’ll be disappointed in me, they might even fire me.

Pierre kept pacing around his room. Pierre stops, he realizes the time. He runs out the door, hops into his truck. He drives to his favourite café and sits in the same chair as always.

He called the police department which is where he works, informing them he’ll be running later than usual. Pierre goes to the cashier to order a cappuccino and croissant as always. He looks around, all the people are working there aren’t familiar.

“Is everyone new here?” questioned Pierre. “No, everyone here has been working here for months and even years.”

How is that even possible, I’ve been coming here every weekday since my sister passed?

His sister passed away ten years ago. He orders his cappuccino anyway, despite what he just heard. He sits in the same chair that has a window with the perfect view of the park he’d go with his sister to get away from their parents.

He arrives at the police station. He was astonished that everyone there was different. One of the workers there walks towards Pierre. He’s a tall, fair man with sleek raven hair.

Why is he so close to me? His lips are way too close to mine.

“My name is Ezekiel,” the man says. “My name is Pierre,” Pierre replies while stepping back. Ezekiel moves forward and pinches Pierre’s cheek, “You have chipmunk cheeks.” Ezekiel chuckles.

What is this guy doing? Why does it have to be in front of everyone?

Pierre turns red and turns away from Ezekiel in embarrassment. “Your brown eyes are cute,” Ezekiel said, “and you’re so short.”

I will just have to walk away from him.

Pierre walks towards the police chef, but Ezekiel grabs his arm. Ezekiel's eyes are golden like the sun. “I had to give you this, it’s the first crime in decades,” Pierre said worryingly.

It was a file of murders that were linked. The police assume it’s the same person who murdered them. Each case had its eyes gouged out, and hearts were carved out. Pierre glances into Ezekiel's concerned eyes.