Testament of Lies

CHAPTER 3—ZAYELLE

★

An arrow— Right on my f*****g bathroom window.

I felt my pulse surge, my heart slamming against my ribcage. I can't think of anyone else who would plant an arrow in my house other than Corvin.

I've been staring at this for no less than ten minutes I'm certain. The absurdity gnawed at me — I wasn’t even into archery.

I’d never so much as held a bow, yet here I was, staring at a weapon meant for me.

What kind of twisted game was he playing now? I had not the slightest desire to be dragged into his sick games.

I pick the arrow and throw it out the window, shutting the glass behind me.

Well, he can't get me if he can't see me. If he tries to do anything crazy in my house, I'll call 911.

Hopefully he doesn't kill me before I can.

How does he even manage to constantly sneak into my house anyway?

Today I'm meant to pick up Azalea from the airport and try to investigate further in the house.

I reverse out of my driveway, donut in hand, when my phone begins to ring. Azalea.

"Hello?"

"Where are you? I landed like thirty minutes ago." Her voice comes through the phone.

"I'll see you in ten." I say taking a bite of my glazed donut, "You better have brought souvenirs for me or I'm turning the car around and going back home."

"Oh I brought souvenirs indeed." Azalea says with a hint of mischief laced in her tone.

"I'm beside the airport building, come out and look to your left."

"Why can't you just come to get me?" She whines, the sound of her trolley scraping the ground punctuating her sentence.

Soon enough, I spot her catwalking towards my car and I unlock the doors to let her in.

"You're late." She sits down, glaring at me like she wants me dead

"I got you glazed donuts." I wave it in her face, passing the strawberry matcha to her as well.

She takes it without hesitation, all while glaring at me, "I thought you where mad?"

"All is fine in the name of food." She shrugs

I feel myself laughing a bit before beginning to drive back to her apartment, "So how was your trip?"

"Damn, I met some fine ass people. But the trip overall was pretty good. The hotel we where at was really close to the beach so I got to tan everyday."

"I can see, you're looking really bronzy." I wink at her as well come to a halt at her apartment complex.

She rolls her beg to the elevator, waving me goodbye.

The weather refuses to let us forget that fall has began. A few dry crunchy leaves lay on the side walk, rattling as they moved in the direction of the wind.

I remember as a child when I took walks with my brother, we use to divert from the road just to step on dead leaves.

He'll sometimes pick up snails to chase me because he knew I was terrified of them.

It's still ten in the morning I think I could spend a little bit of time with Azalea.

The desk attendant gazes at me with a smile, probably because I'm a regular here.

Her apartment is on the 4th floor, no 31. I pulled out my extra card from my purse and unsurprisingly, it's wasn't even locked.

"You gotta start locking your door. What if I was a robber or something?" I sit on the couch overlooking Azalea who was sitting in a pile of her messy clothes.

"But you aren't?"

"But what if I was?"

"But you aren't?"

"But what if I was?"

"Girl if I hear you speak one more time..."

Azalea twists her head back while squatting and I swear to God it took everything in me not to laugh.

"Yes ma'am." I mock salute her.

"Also I got this for you." She took out a box from under her pile, handing it to me.

It had a YSL logo printed in gold that reflected the light around it, "Your 'souvenir'"

The cover slipped off as I pulled out the emerald green backless dress that I'm certain would barely cover my ass.

I loved it.

"It's so beautiful." I bend over to hug her, "Thank you."

"I knew you'll like it."

"I really do." I fold it back into the box, placing it beside the bed.

"Now I've given you your souvenir, would you help me unpack?"

"Did you just bribe me?" I glare at her and she shrugs.

"But at least you like it."

"I have a little less than an hour to spend here so this better be quick." I roll my eyes before squatting beside her.

"Why so cranky? This is probably why you haven't gotten laid." Azalea mutters under her breath.

"Care to repeat that?"

"Speaking of which, you haven't gotten laid in like what? Two years?" Azalea turns to face me fully while leaning on a pile of unsorted clothes.

"And why is that important?" I snatch a bikini top from beneath her foot.

"I heard shagging puts you in a good mood for a while."

"I am in a good mood."

"But you don't act like it."

"Because you're pissing me off."

"Are you trying to say I'm annoying?"

"Well if the shoe f*****g fits." I barely finish my sentence before a ballet flat comes flying my way and hits me square in the forehead, "Ouch Leah."

"My hand slipped." She smiles so sweetly that if you didn't know her, you'll think I was the bad guy.

"How about you? Anyone caught your interest?" I ask as I toss one of her dirty shirts in the laundry basket.

"Not really. No one has really caught my eye enough to consider them more than a shag honestly." Azalea sighs, falling on her suitcase, "I'm tired."

"You've barely arranged anything." I push the laundry basket towards her.

"We should go on a trip you know." She changes the topic, "We haven't had one in a while."

"Maybe after this case I'm working on we could have one."

The moment remember the case, my mind reverts back to the arrow I saw this morning.

I've desperately tried to push that to the back of my mind, trying to go through my day like everything is fine. But in reality— the very thought terrifies me.

I feel absolutely disgusted with myself that me, a detective is running from a ghost from my past.

I just hope as I avoid lonely places, he wouldn't be able to corner me.

It's already near noon and Jenna is about to be on lunch break, I need to get going.

I get up after saying goodbye to Azalea and leave her apartment.

_

Inside the facility was cold, full with children mumbling incoherent words. Jenna stood outside the building, most likely contemplating where to get lunch.

I step outside, moving steadily to stand beside her. She looks young, too young to be someone's ex wife.

"Hello miss Louise."

Her head snaps in my direction at the mention of her name, eyes narrow slightly as she takes a step back, "Hello, how may I help you?"

"I'm Zayelle, FBI, and I have a few questions to ask you. I will appreciate if you can follow me back to the station."

The tension brewing within her is quite obvious as her shoulder tightens, "I'm at work."

"I've spoken to the director. You'll still receive your pay and wouldn't be written down for skipping."

"I don't want to go with you."

"I'm sorry, you don't have a choice. This is an order from the office." Time is already not on our side and we were meant to be in the station five minutes ago.

I walk to my car and sit on the drivers seat, "Get in."

She clearly hesitates for moment, before joining me in the car most likely to avoid suspicion.

Admist the hum of the engine, Jenna sat completely still, not glancing anywhere but infront of her.

"There's no need to be anxious, it's just a few questions." I try to reassure her but she remains motionless

"Would you like some coffee or lunch before we drop in?" Still no response.

I nod as I continue driving, acknowledging her choice of silence.

We return to base, letting the IDETECT clear us. I park my car at my designated area before coming down along with Jenna.

We move to the second floor, where the interrogation room is located.

The door clicks shut as soon as we enter, leaving us with two chairs and a table between.

I sit on the one nearest to the door as I point at the one opposite me, "Have a seat please."

Jenna sits down with both hands on her lap, "I'm sure you know what you where brought here for right?"

She finally nods.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions and i want to to answer me honestly."

The sound of the active digital voice recorder in my hand echoes across the room.

"How do you know Freddie Jones?" Despite already knowing the answer, it wouldn't hurt to still ask.

"He was my ex husband."

"Did he have any close relatives?"

"No. He cut them off while we where still married." She began picking her nails while avoiding my gaze.

"Why did he cut them off?"

The sound of her chair squeaking softly filled the silence as she moved uncomfortably in her chair.

The black opaque windows covered the space around us, the static sound of the voice recorder felt louder than it should.

I clear my throat and shift forward, "So why did you divorce him."

Jenna has had her head down this whole time, soon after I heard low sniffling.

"Jenna...?" I tilt my head to the side to get a better view but she raised her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I'm a disgusting person." Jenna whispers, staring at me with unmasked pain swimming in her eyes.

My stomach had that weird feeling, the warm uncomfortable on e that makes you feel like puking.

"Why?" I lean closer but her lips are quivering, bad.

"I'm disgusting..." *sniff* "I don't deserve to live."

"Is it about Freddie?"

This time, her whole body is shaking— No, she's hyperventilating.

I quickly end the recording and get up to her side, patting her back slowly to calm her down.

She's still crying, taking in short sharp breaths but at least she's calming down.

Maybe I pushed too hard. I think this is enough for today.

I left the room to the colonels office, dropping the voice recording on his desk, "We've pushed her far enough today, she was hyperventilating."

He looked up from his computer, his hands clasped tightly to his chin, "hyperventilating?"

I nod

"I'll listen to it, take her back for now."

After her breathing regulated, we left the interrogation room and back to my car. I'm not sure if she would like to return to work or I should take her back to the cathedral.

"Do you want me to take you back to the cathedral?"

"No. I left my bag at work." Her face was turned to the window as she spoke.

"Jenna, I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard." I try to look at her from my peripheral vision while driving.

She nods a bit, still concentrated on the window.

The ride back to the hospital was quiet, Jenna still did not look away from the window once.

She seemed so deep in thought, so much so that I had to tap her to let her know we've gotten back to her work place.

"Thank you." Jenna said before leaving the car, her back disappearing behind the glass doors.

This whole case is strange and complicated. Jenna looks to young to be someone's ex wife, heck she looks like a college student.

I need to go back to Freddie's house, there has to be an answer.

No bullets or finger prints where found on a clearly murdered individual. In every homicide, there must be evidence. If there is no evidence then it isn't a crime scene.

Hopefully, I find something that leads us to the answer.

I get down from my car, parking a bit further from the house.

Approaching the gate, I notice the untrimmed vines curling around the steel bars.

The barricade tape is still heavy wrapped around the house. The surroundings smell of cold metal and wet sand— Very uncomfortable to say the least.

I opened the door and everything was just as it was before, not exactly tidy but not organised either.

The light switch was luckily still functional as my eyes quickly scanned the environment.

The records did say that he worked for the government...

That's it!

If he worked for the government, he should have a badge or ID despite the particular job not being specified.

The place where I think he would probably store his ID is in his wallet or somewhere in his room.

Rushing to the master bedroom, the contents where relatively scanty for such a huge room. Only a drawer, bedside table and a bed.

In his drawer, there was nothing but a few mints, a handgun and a napkin. In all four compartments it was the same thing— mints, handgun, napkin.

Next I checked his bedside table, nothing was there as well.

The only place I hadn't checked yet was his closet although I doubt anything would be there.

The smell of camphor invaded my lungs. Camphor? In this day and age? Quite surprising.

It was full of plain shirts and pants that look a bit worn out. I put my hand through all the pockets, including the shirts.

I'm not particularly feeling anything similar to an ID in any way.

Just pieces of paper and some mint. He really liked mint I guess.

A metal spring like structure hooked my finger as I ran my hands through the pockets.

I took it out and low and behold...it was an ID.

Fucking finally.

Although it's stuck but at least we might have a small clue. I stuff it in my front pocket and head down stairs.

The stairs creaked under my feet as I walked down slowly with an odd feeling in my chest.

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The living rooms lights where off but I remember vividly that I had left them on.

A cold palm gripped my neck firmly, causing my body to jerk forward.

"Shhh, start running." The voice whispered, mint and sandal wood evaded swirled within my nose again.

Corvin.

The very person I've been trying to forget since this morning. Now he's right behind me.

I feel something sharp trace to sliver of skin between my shirt and skirt and I'm standing as still as can be.

My breathing becomes shallow, as my vision starts to sway. That's undoubtedly an arrow, possibly even the one I threw outside the window.

"I don't want to repeat myself." He lets go of my neck and had barely dropped his hand before I sprinted.

I ran to the front door, flinging it open and jumping the front porch. I didn't dare look back but I knew he was right behind me.

I could hear his long strides, not running, slowly walking towards me.

I knew I couldn't use the gate now, if I didn't, he'll undoubtedly catch me and I don't want to know what happens after.

I divert towards forest behind the house, he'll have some difficulty finding me in the woods rather than catching up to me unlocking the gate.

I turned back once and that was a grave mistake. This was the first time seeing him in natural light.

He had a neural expression on his face, not a smile, not a frown. Just neural. A bow just leisurely hanging from his hands like he's taking a casual stroll.

"If it hits you, you lose." His voice echoed from the forests entrance.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I sped through the forest looking for a shield, or possibly a way out.

Surely a there's a path within these dense trees that lead to civil humans.

An arrow whizzed past my ear and stuck to the tree beside me. I increased my pace, turning a sharp corner to at least lose him.

A huge boulder was right infront of me. Although it's an easy hiding spot, it's better than being caught standing.

I squeezed myself behind the boulder, angling my body towards the tree.

I could hear his foot steps and I tightened my jaw, taking in depthless breaths.

The damp grass started to feel more real. I'm actually being chased, by an actual psycho.

"There's no point in hiding, I know where you are." Covin whispers, yet it still echoed.

His foot steps stopped at my heart did too. He wasn't moving anymore, just stood still. I didn't dare to move or even look back.

"Your hair gives you away pretty quickly you know?"

This time, he starts walking, towards the boulder I'm hiding behind.

"You have five seconds to get out of there. Five."

My flats pressed deeper into the soil, the pressure of my weight grinding them down as if I could anchor myself to the earth.

"Four."

I cursed myself silently. I should have tied my hair back today. I should never have come here alone.

"Three."

I stretch my legs as I rise from behind the boulder, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

His eyes locked onto mine — Hollow and utterly vacant, as though not a single thought lived behind them.

He suddenly turned, his movements deliberate, and walked away, only stopping when he was a good distance from where I stood.

Our eyes locked again, this time his was filled with intense amusement, a small knowing smirk formed on his lips, "Crawl."

"What the hell do you mean crawl!" I finally yelled, my voice sharp with anger. Crawl? Did he really expect me to debase myself like that?

"If I come over there and help you. You won't be alive to witness it."

A chill ran down my spine as he said that, it didn't sound like a threat— it sounded like a warning.

Still I had to hold my pride. I can't let this psycho feel the satisfaction of seeing me crawl to him.

I jolted backward as an arrow struck the ground, embedding itself exactly where my foot had been seconds earlier. The soil trembled with the impact, and my breath caught in my throat.

“Next,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “it’ll be lodged in your heart.”

He spun the bow effortlessly between his thumb and forefinger, the motion casual, almost mocking— as if the weapon were nothing more than a toy in his hands, like my life were in his hands.

The glint of the arrowhead caught the fading light, sharp enough to make my pulse stumble.

It's either I do this or I become the next investigated homicide case.

Against my will and every bone in my body, I dropped to my knees...and I moved.

I carried my body forward, with my hands hands and knees. The amusement in his eyes never ceased, infact it only increased.

"To the outside world you're a smart, perfect detective but in reality you're a disgusting useless slut, getting aroused in unlikely situations."

I bit my inner lip as the sticks and stones dug into my palms and knees.

I was literally dripping when he almost choked me to death.

It was humiliating to say the least— dragging myself across the forest floor like some wounded animal, my palms and knees burned from the friction.

The soil clung to my skin, damp and gritty, and the smell of moss and crushed leaves was utterly nauseating.

Crawling toward another human in this state was a degradation I could hardly stomach, yet the weight of survival pressed harder than pride.

His eyes gleamed with something else, something sinister, "Maybe I should just shoot you in the heart and use your blood as lube, hm?"

My arms almost gave out to me ground beneath me when I heard that. A gleam flashed behind his eyes like a deranged madman who just heard the best news.

I stopped a few inches from his feet, slowly looking up at him. It seemed like a whole tent was pitched in his slacks.

He was hard. From watching me crawl, from humiliating me, from watching me bleed.