I take a few calming breaths. Eventually, I open my laptop up again, and log back in. I need to find an actual source, otherwise the research paper won’t get credit at all.

  I start scrolling through the list of websites again. It feels like hundreds that I go through, all with the same damn result. Another deep breath the second I feel myself shaking. I imagine that Finn is next to me, using that same comforting tone he did this morning.

  “You’re going to be okay, take a deep breath.” I hear his voice in my head, and it relaxes all of the tension coiled up within my body.

  Eventually, after around ten more clicks, and ten more of the same answer, I give up. The next one I click is going to be my source. I honestly do not care anymore. A heavy breath leaves me as I click on this website.

  It’s called “LATruth.org”. Seems legit enough.

  I read over the website. The same damn stuff, of course. A bunch of pop-ups start appearing, though. Weird. This website better not steal my information. I swear.

  I highlight the website in the search bar, and copy it. I try to transfer over to my document, but my computer freezes. Come on, now. It’s 2052. This internet shouldn’t be a problem. I roll my eyes, and click again. Another damn pop up ad. They start to bombard my entire screen. Now that I look at them, it’s just one ad that appears all over my screen. I have to X them all out, one by one. It’s starting to get frustrating.

  Why can’t I just get out of this tab!? It’s like my browser has been completely frozen. I better not get hijacked or anything.

  I shift on the bed, and my mouse moves slightly to the right. By instinct, because of how many of these ads I’ve had to close, I click the mouse. Shit. I clicked on an ad instead of killing it. I watch as a flyer of sorts appears on my screen. It reads the following:

  Hello, dear reader. You found my website, it seems. You’re curious about the murders of completely random people, correct? They’re not random. That’s a lie. Meet me at the following address to understand the truth:

  9906 Coach Ln. Fair Oaks CA 95628

  Please call the following number if there are any questions:

  555-956-0189

  Okay. Maybe I should not add this as a citation. Definitely not.

  I fish my phone out of my pocket and take a photo of this message. There’s no way this is real, but just in case. It’s so strange. “They’re not random”? Then what are they? What connects all of these people? I exit out of the message, and the ads seem to disappear now. At the top corner of my screen, I spot an option to see more. Obviously I click it.

  There are four different cases so far that pop up immediately. I click on each one of them, reading what they have to say. I take notes on each one of them, including Heki’s. If I’m to become a detective, I have to learn how to decipher these things.

  Aileen P.

  Her case is nothing special. She was a twenty year old woman that died on December 18th. Her intestines were scooped.

  Kyler H.

  Damn. A little more brutal with this one. A thirty five year old man, also died December 18th. His entire head was missing. I wonder where the head went.

  Mina C.

  She was a thirteen year old girl. And she died–why do they all die on December 18th? On the sight, there were fifty six bullet holes inside of her. Oh my god. That must’ve been a horrible way to die.

  Finally, Quinn K.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  They were fourteen, but instead of dying, they had gone missing. It was presumed that they were dead though, because someone called their father and told them so.

  What’s the common multiple…

  Well, they all seemed to die or go missing on the same exact day: December 18th, 2047. The same day Heki died. That has to have some sort of correlation. That can’t be all, though. It’s too obvious. There’s definitely something I’m missing.

  I sit back against the wall and think for a moment. With the vague information I have now of these people, I can’t bring any correlation together. Except for the fact that whoever killed them really did not like these people.

  I check the message on my phone. There is a number, and whoever put this message up might have an answer. They might not want to give information away for free, though. I also don’t want to go there in person, since the website is already sketchy enough.

  I have to find the people who killed Heki, though. This person seems to know the truth, according to the message. I promised him that day.

  I promised.

  I take a deep, shaky breath. Should I do this? I close my laptop and my eyes as well. I lower myself to lie in bed. I pull the thin sheet over me, but it's like covering an elephant with a piece of string. No warmth, and the least effective thing you could possibly do.

  I stare at the black phone screen for a moment, staring at my reflection. My eyes were dead, and my hair is a mess. My expression is one of pure dread as well. I force a smile in front of that camera, even though I’m not recording. It still has a weight of comfort to it.

  If something or someone is watching me through that camera, they’ll at least know I’m happy.

  I finally decide to open my phone. I press the button on the right, and watch as the screen brightens up. It almost reminds me of Remi when she sees something she likes. Like cats, or cute animal videos, and even me. It brings a ghost of a smile to my face, before I school my expression. While my eyes face the phone screen, I’m not focused on it. I’m more in my own little world. That little world is a little paper ball, that’s crushed by a sudden thought.

  What about that sticky note Remi gave me? What did I do with that?

  Oh yeah. I put it right there. Right next to my laptop, still facedown.

  I pick the little thing up. It has a number on it, along with some neat, borderline cursive handwriting. The little note reads:

  If you ever need help like that again, please feel free to call me any time.

  555-301-0197

  Finn <3

  I can’t help but smile wider. That’s actually really thoughtful. My feet kick behind me as I flop down on my stomach. I rest my chin on the pillow once more, and consider actually following what the note says.

  I mean, I’m only following his orders.

  Both sides within me war again. The Id, and the Ego.

  The id really just wants to talk to him, to hopefully hit it off and start something special. The ego wants that as well, but realizes it probably won’t happen, since we had just met today. The battle bounces off of the walls of my skull, causing a ping-pong sensation around my entire headspace. My hands move on their own, straight into my hair. The delicate, long fingers massage soothing circles into my temples. This hopefully gets the point across to shut up, whether that be gently, or bluntly.

  I pull up my messages, and consider texting Remi about it when I see her contact photo come up. She looks adorable here, although she always does. Platonically of course. I may be bi, but Remi is too much of a perfectionist for me.

  As I’m calmly searching through my messages, a sledgehammer enters my body, and absolutely slams my heart. It repeatedly slams it over, and over, and over. The entirety of my arms tingle, and my brain freaks out. It starts spouting complete nonsense, along with anxious thoughts of Heki. Another panic attack? This one is much worse, though.

  I have to call Finn. No way I can handle this one on my own. I could’ve done it the last time, but he just so happened to step in.

  My breathing begins to shallow, and thoughts of death enter my head unwantedly.

  Yes. Definitely a panic attack. This is all just too much.

  Even though I can’t breathe, move, or even think properly, I just lay there. I have to handle this one on my own. Finn doesn’t deserve to know all of my trauma after not even a day of knowing me. Nobody deserves that.

  This will pass. I know it will. I just need to give it time. Just like I need to sleep on the decision to call that number and drive to that address, or continue on.

  This could mean I can finally find out what happened to Heki. The entire reason I want to be a detective when I’m finally out of college is so that I can work on that case. It may be long gone, but I will find evidence. There’s always evidence. Nothing is ever fully erased from existence. And according to this person that sent me that message, there is still plenty of proof. Proof of what happened. Proof that I could use for revenge.

  I hadn’t expected to find it so soon. Especially not on my first day of college.