Detective - Tumblr Posts
Six unassuming young adults.
These characters are the main protagonists of GREY MATTER: CNIDARIA, a mystery / horror story I've been working on for a bit. I really like the colors here!! They're kinda muted, but overall pretty cohesive, I think.
Time to put a name to a date! Chapters 1 and 2 of GREY MATTER: CNIDARIA will be released for free this February 15th!
The comic will be published on Deviantart, Tapas, Webtoon, Twitter, Bluesky, and Tumblr.
The links to Tapas and Webtoon will be added to this post on release!
(Click the 'keep reading' for more information about the comic!)
GREY MATTER: CNIDARIA is a mystery and psychological horror comic The story follows Sojiro Tsutsumi, a detective recovering from a traumatic incident. Case by case, the bustling city he lives in--Asobi--falls apart into something surreal and strange. Will Sojiro discover why Asobi is unraveling around him, or will he die trying?
GREY MATTER: CNIDARIA is unofficially rated as MATURE (18+). The comic will contain gore, implied sexual content, violence, body horror, and themes of abuse, paranoia, and psychosis. Engage with CNIDARIA at your own risk and comfort. Trigger warnings will be given on each page or chapter as needed.
The Girl From Busan||OT7 - Chapter One (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1083367733-the-girl-from-busan-ot7-chapter-one?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=listenboixx&wp_originator=ChwMjVnDySTDPovsL1XOWOjVMXToVQqudl6YMcYEbDW01Yjdx44xNzKyPq8lIpISvmWfmeMjxSvyBLGPnvuYDcwW%2FvPccn3rJhIJ0fwGsnRUt730HjDdwL9gmT2xI5Q2 A story in which a fun, happy, outgoing, strong-willed girl goes missing. And the seven hearts she leaves behind try to piece together her last days so that they can find her.
The Girl From Busan||OT7 - Chapter Two (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1083415860-the-girl-from-busan-ot7-chapter-two?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=listenboixx&wp_originator=n2zrX6TGjuH0vVkHlz%2FvSlNbAF5e2Neo3SWYkq26he%2Fcwa6FQyRjP8WwLfKJb5itiDfuoBJDjSqz8nWS8yopnNdbahExnz7NQjWauvd0jMUuUx6B%2BhEtdkEfrOcB4WDO A story in which a fun, happy, outgoing, strong-willed girl goes missing. And the seven hearts she leaves behind try to piece together her last days so that they can find her.
Fog licked at the edges of the bridge, curling around the street lamps and up into the stars. It was cold, bitterly in a way that sliced to the bone. She shivered, tucking her coat around her.
The street was as silent as a tomb, nothing more than wet concrete and wind, and she could be at home right now. She probably should be, at least. At home, her cat was probably waiting for her in warm bed sheets.
Here, though, secrets might be waiting.
And oh, how she loved secrets.
The suicides weren't anything special- every city has them. She had dealt with her fair share.
But this? This was strange. One person jumps off a bridge, and it's a tragedy. Two, it's awful.
And three? That's a pattern.
The wind picked up, howling as it tore through her hair. Ten minutes. Ten more and she would leave. It was edging towards two in the morning, and from what little the autopsies could gather, that was the latest time of death.
Five minutes.
Eight.
Nine.
She pushed off the edge of the bridge, turning—and froze.
"Hi," the little girl smiled, all teeth. She had ribbons in her hair.
"Hi." It was more out of reflex than anything. She glanced up, and found no parent, no guardian. Just empty street.
"Are you out here all alone?"
"No," the girl replied drily. "You're here too."
She paused. "Right. Your parents-"
"Are dead," the girl blinked, and smiled softly. "Yours are too."
Her throat went dry. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"That your parents are dead," the girl repeated.
She didn't have a response to that, and she was trained in crisis management. Her chest squeezed like a vise, tighter,tighter still.
The girl seemed to know.
"You want to know," the girl observed, eyeing her. Her eyes drifted over the edge, the water deep and churning.
Deep and dark and deadly.
"Yes," she admitted.
The girl's smile disappeared.
"I wish you didn't."
The wind had vanished.
She studied the girl, in her perfect dress and braided hair.
"You know, don't you."
The girl tipped her head one way, then the other.
"Yes. But then again I know a lot of things. So in the scheme of it, it isn't important to me."
"People are dying," her voice went sharp. She regretted it as soon as the girl’s eyes snapped to hers.
"Everyone dies."
"Not like this," she said, and the girl shrugged one shoulder.
"Death is death in every form." She turned her gaze to the water. “The method reaches the same result."
"Where are your parents?"
"I lied," the girl said bluntly. "Earlier, when I said they were dead. They don't exist. Not really, at least. Belief systems are so strange sometimes-"
"Stop."
The girl did, patiently.
"You see the people who die here?"
"Of course I do," the girl said it like it was obvious.
"And?"
"And what?"
"Why?"
"Why do they die?"
The girl twirled one long strand of hair around her finger, face the picture of child innocence.
"Because they jump, silly."
"And why do they jump?"
The world went silent. The girls face dropped. Something infinitesimal slammed onto her back, the weight of a star itself, the air like thick syrup.
"I can show you," the girl took a step forward. The strand of hair dropped. "If you like."
She swallowed, throat dry. "I do," she rasped.
"You don't," the girl corrected, but she stepped forward anyways.
"They always do this," she murmured, and she was almost certain it wasn't directed at her.
Her small hand landed her forehead, and she was gone.
The vicious bite of loss, the cry of a child, the smell of burnt toast. Abandoned buildings and car filled highways. And empty tombstone, barren elementary school chairs.
It roared through her head like a newly released dam and she was almost certain she was crying, that tiny palm set so firmly on her forehead.
She sat on the edge of the bridge, feet dangling. The girl sat with her, legs kicking in the air as she hummed.
She choked on a sob, cheeks wet.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
She merely nodded, throat closed.
The girl took her hand, fingers tiny and warm.
“You’re okay,” the girl soothed, but she didn’t believe her.
The water beckoned.
“What’s your name,” she managed, and the girl smiled, just barely. She released her hand.
“Say hi to my brother for me.”
“I thought your family didn’t exist.”
“My parents don’t,” the girl agreed. “My siblings and I kind of do.”
“Ah,” she laughed, and it was wet. “Makes perfect sense.”
The girl’s mouth twitched.
“Truth.”
The puzzle pieces clicked into place. The girl’s name. Truth.
Her sister was going to have to take care of her cat from now on.
“That’s why,” she said dully. “It’s you.”
“I don’t give them anything they don’t ask for. It’s not my fault most of them don’t realize they never want what they think they do.”
She watched the water undulate for a moment.
“What’s your brother’s name.”
The girl’s smile turned into something wide, child-like joy.
“Death.”
She laughed then, and it rang out over the water. The girl still smiled.
“Truth hurts,” she murmured. The girl nodded.
“Truth hurts.”
Her fingers slackened on the edge of the bridge and she finally, finally let herself fall.
Truth stayed behind, image wavering above her as the waves swallowed her whole.
For a moment she wondered who would find the little girl next. Who would be bestowed that knowledge. Who would feel that pain.
Who would get to meet her brother, afterwards.
She supposed it didn’t matter, after all.
Everyone meets them both at some point.
Truth hurts, indeed.
The dark swallowed her whole.
A sapphic detective who gets too close to the truth of a case and gets confronted by her girlfriend for being too obsessed?
“You need to stop.”
The detective didn’t jerk up at the sound of her voice—just quietly stirred, rustling papers as she shifted upright to meet her eyes.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” the detective said slowly, eyes scanning over her. She watched her gaze catch on the water dripping from the ends of her hair, the mascara smudging itself down her cheeks.
“It’s date night,” she said, and even to her own ears her voice sounded tired. Dead. Rotting roses and dirty dishes in the sink.
The detective blinked once, then shifted through her papers until she found a scribbled in calendar. It was stuck on the wrong month.
“I forgot,” the detective murmured. It wasn’t an apology, and neither of them were pretending that it was. She could tell, even now, with her girlfriend pathetic and dripping water onto the hardwood floor in front of her, that the detective wanted nothing more than to go back to her evidence.
“Yeah,” she croaked. “Funny how it’s never the case you forget.”
The detective jerked, slightly, like she hadn’t expected the barbs in her girlfriend’s voice.
In the hallway, there was a drooping bouquet of flowers she hadn’t been able to bear bringing into the apartment.
“You know how important this is,” the detective implored, and it made her want to break things. Burn the papers, shatter the fancy glasses in the cabinet, spill wine across the carpets.
What about me, she wanted to scream. Am I not important to you anymore?
Instead, she said again, “You need to stop.”
“Stop?”
“The case. You need to stop.”
“I can’t just stop,” the detective laughed slightly, as if she thought it would convey how inconceivable the idea of stopping was.
“Yes, you can. Give it to someone else. There’s a whole precinct just waiting for you to put this file into their hands.”
At the thought of it, the thought of giving up this case, the hunt, the chase, pain flashed across the detective’s face.
“You don’t understand.”
“I do,” she replied. She had to shift her gaze to the dead plant on the corner of her partner’s desk, dirt dry and leaves brittle. “How could I not?”
“So then how could you ask me to do that? To give it all up? Why now?”
She had so many answers to that. So many moments that cut into her hands like a mosaic of memories. The bed empty beside her through the entire night. Cancelled reservations, one seat alone at the dinner table, laughs that died in her ribs. Friends, well meaning, who asked where the detective was, and the painful smiles she forced through the explanations. Work, and work, and work. Crime scene photos on the coffee table. The loneliness that seemed to care about her more than her girlfriend did.
There were so many times when she almost said something. Almost said enough. But she hadn’t, and now they were here, as she dripped a puddle onto the floor, and the detective looked at her like she had never seen her before.
When she tried to say that, any of that, it caught in her throat.
The detective took her silence for an inability to answer. A lack of evidence. Like she was throwing this tantrum for no reason, a little kid in the toy aisle of the store.
The detective sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead. The other was already fanning through the papers once more. Her voice turned into something that begged to be understood.
“I’m so close—“
“To losing me.” She swallowed, painfully. “You’re losing me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“This isn’t fair,” her voice broke as she gestured between the two of them. “What you’re doing to me isn’t fair.”
“I’m not doing anything—“
“Exactly.” It was louder than she meant it to be. They both flinched.
“I’ll have it solved in a week, I promise.” She wasn’t sure who the detective was promising to.
“No.”
The detective blinked.
“No?”
“You heard me the first time.”
“I heard you, but I’m not sure what you’re saying ‘no’ to.”
If she had the energy to be slightly meaner, she would have told her to figure it out. Told her that she was a detective, this should be easy for her.
“I’m not giving you a week.” She took a deep breath. “And you’re not going to solve it.”
The detective’s looked at her like she didn’t recognize the person on the other side of the desk.
Finally, she understood what it felt like to face her girlfriend from the other side of an interrogation table.
Her girlfriend’s face was cold, and closed off. Her jaw was grinding into itself. She was staring at her like she couldn’t decide whether or not to consider her a suspect. As if the only reason she could fathom her girlfriend saying something like that was if she was actively sabotaging her.
She was cold, and her coat was wet, and this place no longer felt like home.
“You won’t solve this case.”
She was pretty sure there wasn’t anything crueler she could have said.
“You don’t know anything.” It was dripping with venom, and fear, and frustration. The fear the detective really wouldn’t solve it. The frustration that it still wasn’t solved.
“Do you really think you’re that special?” By now, it was too far gone for her to stop. There was no pretty way out of this. “You aren’t. This isn’t a TV show. You aren’t the main character who swoops in where no one else has before. It’s been decades of the same bullshit—taunting and evidence trails, and nobody has solved it. Don’t you think if it was solvable, it would have been by now?”
“There’s new evidence, and I’m not them—“
“What part of ‘you aren’t special’ don’t you understand,” she hissed, and the detective shifted away from her. “You aren’t the miracle detective who solves this. They’re going to keep on killing, and driving the people who try and find them crazy, and you’re letting them do it to you.”
“I’m not letting them do anything.”
“But you are,” she countered. “You have been for months. They’re messing with you. They’re everything to you, and you’re a game to them, and I’m nothing on the sidelines.”
“Babe, that’s not true,” The detective tried, voice softening. As if she had just realized something between them was wrong. That her girlfriend was hurting—had been, for a while.
She swallowed the tears rising in her throat.
“Do I need to become a crime scene for you to finally care about me again?” She slammed her hand down on the papers. Pretended the wince on the detectives face was concern for her, and not the papers she crumpled. “Will you look at me, love me again, if I’m a bloody photograph in this folder?”
“I do love you.”
“When someone loves someone else, they don’t leave them alone in the rain, waiting to be picked up. They don’t cancel to go dig through old archives on their loved one’s birthday. They don’t leave them in the middle of the night and let the blankets beside them get cold. People who love someone don’t live their life without a concern for the person they’re putting below everything else.”
“You’re making this really hard.”
“Good,” she snapped. “Because you’ve been making it hard to love you for months, and I’m glad you finally know how it feels.”
The detective paused, at that. Swallowed, eyes flitting around the room as if she would find the perfect thing to say in the remnants of the life they had built together.
“I love you,” The detective managed. Somehow, it was the worst thing she could have said.
“Good. Prove it.” She thought maybe dying would have hurt less than this.
“Prove it?”
“Prove it. Me, or the case.”
The detective froze.
“You don’t mean that,” she said, and it sounded like a plea. Don’t make me choose.
“Look at me and try and tell me I’m joking.” When the detective said nothing, she pushed further. “Go on. Do it. Choose.”
“I can’t do that—“ the detective choked. “This isn’t fair, you know that. I’m so close.”
Somehow, she had expected it to hurt less.
“Don’t make me choose,” the detective, her girlfriend, the love of her life finally said, voice breaking.
She had thought it would feel like dying.
It felt like nothing.
“You just did,” she said. The tears refused to be held, this time. The pain ran rampant through every word.
She knew her girlfriend could hear it.
“I love you,” the detective whispered. A final, desperate prayer for her to stay. But she was no god, and her girlfriend was no believer. And it would never be enough.
She let the door slam on the way out.
The detective never did solve that case.
Hello there,
This is my first murder mystery novel. First chapter is up. If you comment on it please be nice.
Chapter 1: Five Hours Before Death
"AMELIA!" My boss exclaimed as he walked over to my desk.
"Yes, sir, do you need something?" I say while still looking at my computer.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I need you to tell me about my agenda for this afternoon," he says urgently while looking at his watch.
"Ah well, sir, you have a one-thirty meeting with one of the board of directors and a six o'clock dinner reservation with the misses" I told my boss while looking up at him.
My boss looks at me and says, "Before I leave for my one-thirty, I need you to come to my office; I need to speak to you about something urgent. Got it."
"Yes, sir, I understand," I say, confirming it.
'What does he want to tell me? Oh, I hope it isn't what I found out a few days ago,' I thought as I looked back at my computer. Two days ago, I found out that my boss: Nicholas Anderson, had an illegal import business up and running. And in turn, he paid the mayor to keep quiet about everything. I shook those thoughts out of my head, focusing on my work.
Time flies by and now it is twelve-thirty. I get up from my desk and head to Mr. Anderson's office on the next floor above. Walking over to the sliver elevator doors, you press one of the buttons on the wall next to the doors. The doors open, and you step in, turning around while the doors shut, pressing the button heading up to the next floor. Hearing the irritating music blaring into the rectangular box, the doors open; indicating, that I am on the next floor.
Walking up to his door, I knock, telling him that I am there. "Come in," Mr. Anderson said. I open the door and walk into his office. Noticing a few pictures of his family here and there, he looked up from his computer.
"Ah, excellent timing Ms. Cameron; I was about to call you up," Mr. Anderson said as he pushed himself up from his black leather chair, making eye contact with you.
"May I ask what this is about; you made it seem crucial," I said looking curious but deep down I know what he may say.
"Uh, yes, I know that you found about my uh business. I must warn you if you tell the authorities or anyone for that matter, you might not get to be forty. Am I clear?" Mr. Anderson says
"Ye-ss, sir-r," I said, fear plastered onto my face.
"Good, then you may leave." I placed my hands onto the arms of the chair, pushed my legs up, feeling the pressure of standing. I leave the room and head back downstairs, thinking of what he was saying.
The day went by faster than the flash himself, a mixture of colors; pinks, oranges, and yellows stating that the sun is setting within the west. Shutting everything down and grabbing my purse and coat. I look down at my watch; which looks like it is from the nineties, and it reveals that it is 8:50 p.m. 'Huh has it been five hours already; who would have thought' I left the gray building and straight to my 1999 navy blue chevy corvette. I slammed the car door closed as I sat down in the driver's seat. I took out my keys from my purse so that I could start the engine. My keys have two keychains attached to them; one of them is a Slytherin crest, the other is a Gryffindor crest. I placed the keys into the ignition and turned it. The engine roared to life, I got strapped in and I reversed back into the parking lot to head the main road.
It did not take long for Amelia to get to her apartment. She pulled into the parking lot outside the complex, making sure she did not touch the curb, she turned off the engine and took the keys out of the ignition. She grabs her purse, slips her hand into door handle to open it. The door opens and she steps out into the crisp cold air. She steps onto the sidewalk and looks back to her car. Her car was shining from the light created by the lamp post. The wind blowing against her skin, the hair on her skin standing up and she gets a shiver crawling down her spine. Amelia did not pay attention to the ever-growing feeling within the pit of her stomach as she started climbing the stairs to the second floor.
I got to the top of the stairs of the second floor. I walked down the hallway a little bit to reach my apartment. It was about five minutes of walking; I reached my apartment: number 4. I looked over to my right and saw the door where my neighbor Minerva Barnes lives. 'She is such a sweet woman' I thought as I grabbed my keys to unlock the door. I got my keys into the lock, and I unlocked the door. As I was stepping into my apartment, I am suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of dread; like I should not have entered the apartment. Due to the lights not working, it gave me an eerie and creepy feeling to the atmosphere of the apartment.
It kept getting stronger as I took off my coat, my shoes, and when I placed my keys into the tray. I turn around and locked the door. I went into the kitchen, grab a small glass from one of the cabinets, and went over to the sink to get water. Placing the glass down, I went to turn the faucet on when everything went black. What I did not know right now was that my time to pass on had come.
Opening my eyes, I squint at the moonlight shining through the teal curtains. I tried to move but could not. I looked down and saw my hands were bounded. I turned my head so that I can see my feet, turns out my feet were also bounded.
"I wouldn't do that if I was you" someone said while standing in the shadows.
"Who are you? Why are doing this?" I asked fear rising within me.
"Did you really think he wouldn't know that you were gathering evidence to give to the police? I mean, Mr. Anderson knew that you knew about the business, so he made an educated guess, and what do you know he was right after all." The figure said while chuckling slightly.
Fear took ahold of me once I realized what he was talking about. You see, I have been gathering up evidence on my boss. Apparently, he has been bribing the mayor to cover up his import business. I look back at the figure wondering who they are.
"Who are you?" I asked as I stare into the shadows.
"That is unimportant lady" he said while pulling something out of his pockets. I couldn't tell what it was, but the feeling grew even more stronger as it was before. The figure then walks out of the shadows. His body was slightly brightened but you couldn't make out his face.
Since you now have a semi-clear view of the man, you notice that he had a Glock 19 9mm Compact. Your grandparents taught you how to hunt and when you were older you went to the shooting range, so you know different types of guns. You watch as he loads ammo into the gun. You look back at the curtains taking in the light of the moon. Hearing footsteps behind you, you realize that the man had walked up to you from behind.
'This is it; this is how I go out, huh' I thought as I felt the gun was placed on the back of my head. I opened my mouth tasting salt, which meant tears. I was so scared I didn't realize that I was crying. The tears were flowing down my face at a rapid pace as the man pulled the trigger.
**BANG**
Amelia fell to the ground as blood flows out of her head. Blood spatters across the lightly colored walls and floors turning them crimson red. The man walks towards an open window. Putting the gun back into his pocket, the man got up onto the windowsill. The man looked back at the body, blood pooling around her and glistening in the moonlight. The wind blowing steadily as the man jumped out of the window and onto the pavement below. Walking away from the crime the man had just committed, he wore a sadistic smile on his face.
Definitely Not A Mouse
Thank you so much for all the love on the previous part!
Previous: A Not So Average Night
Next: Witness To A Crime
—————
Tucker bit back a yelp of terror as the world seemed to bottom out. He tumbled into the bottom of the bag alongside the chips, his small weight slightly crushing them. He found himself partially buried under the yellow salt-coated food, thankfully it was nowhere near heavy enough to crush the borrower.
Gravity forced him down as the bag shot high into the sky, the rapid motion causing bile to rise in Tucker's throat. He was jerked this way and that, slamming into the aluminum walls along with the chips as the human's thudding footsteps carried him away. A few moments later, a door slammed shut and the movement abruptly stopped.
The only thing Tucker could hear was his own hyperventilating breaths. The bag crinkled above him and a yellow light quickly filled the darkness. He threw up a hand at the sudden onslaught of light but it left as quickly as it came, covered by a giant green eye. Tucker balked further under the chips as the eye immediately zeroed in on him. The human gasped and Tucker was pitched forwards as the bag lurched away from the human's face.
"This....what...." A shocked voice rumbled outside the bag. There was an uncomfortably long moment of silence that filled Tucker with terror. He scrambled to get his feet under him but the tangle of chips effectively kept him stuck in place. Chips cracked underneath him as Tucker strained to get some control over his situation. His hand tightened on his weapon. If he could just reach a wall then he can easily cut his way out before Shawn got any ideas....
"Seriously Shawn?" Gus complained angrily, slamming another door shut. "How are we supposed to prove it wasn't the husband? You heard what Lassiter said!"
When Shawn failed to respond, Gus glanced over to his passenger. He gasped, "Shawn!" His friend has done ridiculous things in the past for the sake of solving a case, but this was on a whole new level. "Did you seriously take food from their house! Are you insane?"
Shawn finally pried his eyes away from the bag to look at Gus with wide eyes. His mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water, something that rarely happened to the man.
Gus narrowed his eyes, "I'm not moving this car 'til you tell me what's going on with you." His voice was low and stern. It was clear he was not exaggerating.
"This is evidence for the case. At least I think it is...." He uneasily looked between Gus and the bag. Shawn could feel the slight shifts of whatever was stuck in there, solidifying the fact that this was real. Of course he knew something was in there when he snagged the bag, but he was expecting a rodent or a bug or anything that didn't resemble a tiny human. He ran a hand through his brown hair. "Let's just go back to the office and figure out what's going on." He finally decided.
His friend still didn't move the car, instead he was now criticality eyeing the chip bag as if he could see what's inside. Gus sighed, "Is there anything in there that's creepy, crawly, and has a bunch of legs?" He asked.
"No." Shawn answered aloud, inwardly hoping he got a good enough look.
"Alright then. But if we go to prison for tampering with evidence, I am testifying against you." Gus warned before turning the car on and beginning the short drive back to the office.
Inside the bag, Tucker flinched at the sound of the engine and toppled over as they began to drive. He landed in between a gap in the chips sinking even deeper into the bag. The conversation overhead confirmed his fears that things will only get worse from this point on once they arrived at the humans destination. Tucker had to escape before they had a chance to examine him.
He squirmed to free himself so he can cut a hole through the thin aluminum wall, but the chips proved more cumbersome than he initially thought. Each movement made it harder for him to free himself, and the car's sharp turns didn't help at all. It was like being stuck in a deep ball pit where any action to get out only made things more difficult.
It was all too soon when the engine went silent and the bag jerked again as the humans climbed out of the car. The bag shook violently each time Shawn took a step, ruining what little progress Tucker made towards freedom. Outside of his prison he heard some keys jingle and another door opening and closing. They arrived at their destination. Tucker's heartbeat roared in his ears and he renewed his struggles to get out.
Shawn walked over to his desk in the shared office space. Gus curiously watched as he pushed aside all the clutter on his desk while clutching the chip bag to his chest. He knew he must have noticed a small detail that no one else could hope to see. Shawn's keen eyes is what made him such an effective detective, no matter how annoying his process can get. But Gus failed to see how a bag of chips can be important to the case, especially in a way that made Shawn so uncharacteristically nervous.
Finally Shawn turned towards him. "Listen. I have no idea what's going on here, but promise not to freak out."
The seriousness in his friend's voice sent a jolt of worry through Gus. He warily eyed the innocent looking bag one more time before nodding in agreement, "You have my word," he swore quietly.
Tucker paid no mind to the rumbling conversation overhead. He had just freed his weapon when the bag suddenly flipped, tilting into a menacing slope. He cried out as he began sliding towards the bag's opening. Tucker's free hand desperately reached out for anything that could stop his descent, but only grasped air. His boots harmlessly dug into the sleek material underneath him as chips nearly as big as him pushed him towards the light. Tucker ungracefully tumbled onto the hard desk among the chips and crumbs, landing on his stomach.
"Wha- is this for real?" A voice boomed above him.
He whirled around in a panic. Frantic eyes landing on not one but two looming giants. His instincts screamed at him to run but Tucker's body was paralyzed as their gazes pierced right through him. All he could do was stare at the humans while his brain seemed to short circuit while coming up with a plan.
"Is this real!" Gus repeated as he stared at the impossibly tiny figure. He hesitatingly took a step towards the desk.
This kicked Tucker into action. He jumped to his feet and began sprinting across the desk to the other side. If he could get over there then there was still a chance for him to escape. The air shook from the humans surprised yells but he pressed on. Shadows covered the table in darkness as both Shawn and Gus stepped closer to the desk. Tucker held the nail tightly as he ran on, more than prepared to use it when the human grabbed for him.
He stumbled as their heavy footfalls shook the surface but his eyes stayed locked onto the far edge of the desk. He was so close! His lungs felt like they were on fire and his bag thumped against his side as he poured all his power into his legs. Tucker jumped over a pencil and unlatched his hook from his satchel. His hand stretched out, ready to lodge his hook into the desk and jump down. He still had a chance.
All too suddenly, Tucker collided with something hard. He fell onto his back from the momentum losing his hold on his hook, his mind spinning as he tried to figure out what just happened. The wall he hit curled around him and effortlessly lifted him off the ground. Tucker's brown eyes widened in panic as fingers longer than he was tall restrained him into a fist.
He struggled against the fingers. He pushed and shoved and kicked, but the fingers didn't budge one centimeter. Tucker was too weak to make any sort of impact. Vertigo all but slammed into him as the hand rose up into the sky. Tucker temporarily seized all struggles and squeezed his eyes shut to focus on keeping the dizziness away.
"You are real..." A low rumble shook him to the core. Hot breath washed over Tucker and his body started trembling uncontrollably. He forced himself to peek an eye open and immediately flinched back. The human held him mere inches away from his face. Green eyes bigger than Tucker's head scrutinized him closely.
Tucker resumed his struggles but his limbs remained effortlessly pinned down. His bag dug painfully against his side. His hand still gripped his weapon with a solid hold, If he could just free his arm then he could make this human regret ever touching him.
"Dude are you seeing this!" The human exclaimed as he held out the squirming figure to his friend. “It looks like a tiny action figure!”
Tucker's breath escaped him as the voice vibrated his entire body. It served as a clear reminder of how much danger he's in. He's up against beings so powerful even a voice can overwhelm him. His heart rammed against his ribs and no matter how hard he tried, Tucker couldn't catch his breath. He wasn't sure if it his sheer panic or the fingers squeezing him that caused it. He didn't know what to do. He was completely helpless. He was only ever taught how to avoid getting caught, not what to do if he got captured. If he could do anything at all.
Especially against a psychic. He didn't know what that even was, but it's clear the human had strange abilities. Tucker hung his head as he took in another shaky breath. Will the psychic read his mind and find out about borrowers? He will fail his kind whether he spoke or not.
"I think you're holding it too tight." Gus observed with eyes still full of shock.
The hand shifted again so Shawn could see Tucker's face. "Oh, oops," he murmured as he began loosening his fist. "There, that should be better."
Tucker immediately pulled an arm out of the fist and squirmed to try and free the hand holding the nail. But to his horror, two enormous fingers immediately came into view, dwarfing Tucker in their shadow. A finger and thumb lightly pinched his exposed arm, holding it out for inspection. Tucker froze, fearfully watching the fingers holding his arm.
The fingers shifted to reveal the tiny hand resting on a fingertip. Shawn's eyes widened, "Whoa," he whispered breathlessly. Even with the minuscule fingers stretched out, the tiny hand could barely cover the tip of his finger. It was unreal.
Tucker was shocked by the comparison as well, although it left him more frightened than fascinated. He was so small next to a finger. A freaking finger! It took everything in him not to try pulling his arm back as the fingers continued to hold it out at an uncomfortable angle. His bones were thin enough to snap from one tiny shift made by the human. He was at Shawn's complete mercy.
"Look at this! This is insane!" He exclaimed excitedly, unknowingly hurting Tucker's sensitive ears. Gus stepped closer to gawk at the insane size difference, putting Tucker in between two enormous humans. After a few excruciatingly long moments, Shawn seemed to lose interest in the tiny limb and let Tucker protectively pull it back towards himself.
"This is the craziest thing to ever happen. Ever." Gus stated as he unbashedly stared at Tucker. He leaned in closer, his brown eyes locking onto the leather strap on Tucker's shoulder. "I think it even has a little bag!" The giant face lit up with excitement.
"Wait really? You're kidding!" Shawn's fingers opened while his other hand came swooping in towards Tucker. Before he could even act, large fingers pinched the bag and began tugging it off him. He quickly clutched the strap with his left hand while keeping a firm grip on his nail with his right.
Tucker dug his boots into the thick skin of the human's palm as he played tug-of-war with fingers larger than him. It wasn't much of a match. The satchel was easily pulled off his shoulders and was lifted up into the air, but Tucker's unrelenting grip on the bag left him dangling from the strap. He didn't care. That bag was one of Tucker's most important possessions and he would be damned if he let a clumsy human get it without a fight.
"C'mon little guy, just let go." The human coaxed. A hand rose up underneath Tucker to serve as a safety net before Shawn shook the bag. He grunted and squeezed his eyes shut as he was swung this way and that, but thanks to all his years of climbing, Tucker still had an iron-grip on the strap. The hand underneath him lifted closer to his feet and he quickly tucked his legs up, doing everything he can to stay out of the human hand.
Eventually the hand was only a few inches underneath him, expectantly waiting for Tucker to drop down so it can squeeze him to death. Instead, he pulled himself up and looped a leg through the leather strap. His brown eyes were locked onto the fingers pinching his bag and his hand tightened around his nail.
Both Shawn and Gus exchanged uneasy glances as the little creature refused to let go of the bag. Shawn was not expecting it to be that attached to the object, and he was even more surprised when the little thing ended up dangling in the air. As much as Shawn wanted to pluck it off the strap, he didn't want to risk squeezing it too tightly again. Something that small could be killed with a simple flick of his fingers. So, he opted to be patient for once and wait for it to get tired and drop to his awaiting palm.
Of course it wasn't that easy as the little thing actually climbed up the bag. Shawn smiled as he watched it, reminding him of a tiny little ninja. It's kinda adorable.
Of course, the humans couldn't see when Tucker's gaze hardened and his body tense in preparation. In one smooth motion, he lifted his body just high enough from the strap and sliced deep into Shawn's finger above. The hand reflexively snapped opened and a loud, pained shout shook the air. Tucker gasped as he started to plummet to the floor far below him along with his bag. Surprisingly, he welcomed this free fall. He got out the human's grasp. That's all that mattered.
Of course, this brief moment of peace was ruined as he hit a surface that was far too close and leathery to be the floor. Tucker didn't even have a chance to catch his breath from the impact before a hand cupped over him, trapping him between two walls of flesh.
"Shawn! You okay?" Gus asked as Shawn plucked the nail out of his finger.
"No, that actually hurt." He complained, "I'll probably need a tetanus shot after this." Shawn grumbled. He watched as blood slowly pooled out of the cut before placing a tissue over it to stop the bleeding. He nodded towards Gus' cupped hands, "At least your catching skills are improving." He added gratefully.
Gus glanced down at his hands. He cringed as he felt the creature's slight weight moving around in there. He hated that feeling, especially knowing it was an unknown creature that resembled a human. At what felt like tiny pokes against his skin, Gus belatedly realized the danger he was now in.
He quickly thrust his hands back towards Shawn. "Take it back." He demanded.
He flinched away before Gus could deposit the creature back into his hands. "What? No! I don't wanna get stabbed again!" He argued.
"Well I don't wanna get stabbed either!" Gus shot back.
A smug smile briefly appeared on Tucker lips as he kicked and shoved at the borrower-sized fingers surrounding him. Even if his escape failed, he was glad he scared the giants a little bit. At this point he'll take any victory he could get. Hopefully they learned their lesson not to manhandle him so carelessly.
But the more he kicked and pushed to no avail, the more helpless he felt. A lump caught in his throat at the realization of how weak he is. Tucker never thought of himself that way before. He has gained muscles from his daily climbs around the house and has even killed giant rats in battle. Compared to a human, however, he’s weaker than a baby.
His prison continued to vibrate as the humans spoke loudly. "What do I do with it!" Gus asked sounding just as panicked as Tucker felt.
"Just-uh-put it on the desk!" The words barely left Shawn's mouth before Gus dumped Tucker back onto the desk. He grimaced as he landed painfully on his shoulder but that didn't stop his adrenaline filled body from shooting back onto his feet. His eyes frantically scanned his surroundings for an escape. The ground shook as both humans got down on their knees to be more level with the borrower, although they still loomed menacingly over him.
He warily eyed the giants as he waited for their next move. After the stunt he just pulled, Tucker was in for a cruel punishment. That's how humans work after all. If you fight back against their control and power, they will just crush your spirit until you're nothing but an obedient pet. Tucker will never let that happen, even if it kills him.
Gus leaned forward, "So.... What exactly are we gonna do with it?" He picked up a pencil and gently poked the little thing's side, watching as it reeled back. Gus still couldn't believe it was real.
Meanwhile, Shawn was busy gathering up the objects the creature was carrying: a fishhook and string left on the desk, the nail, and the tiny bag now lying on the floor. Personal belongings say a lot about a person and he figured the same would apply to the little guy.
His green eyes narrowed as he quickly examined each object. The string on the fishhook was long enough to reach most surfaces like tables and counters. Shawn vaguely remembered the creature carrying it on its bag when they first put it on the desk. It's definitely used as a means for the little guy to get around. The stinging cut on his finger made the nail's use pretty obvious, but the bag was another story. Shawn could hardly believe the craftsmanship of the satchel. He would assume it came from a doll house if it wasn't made out of real leather with noticeable wear and tear from years of use. The bag even had a little clip holding the flap down, something even the most steady human hand couldn't accomplish.
He left the objects on the far side of the desk and glanced up to examine the little guy's clothes. By all means they looked like clothes he would find in a store. It wore all black and dark grays, colors that let it blend seamlessly into the shadows. The stitching was far too intricate to be made by human hands. The brown boots looked to be made of the same leather material as the satchel.
Shawn's eyes narrowed even more as he noticed what looked to be specks of saw dust on the dark fabric. Interesting.
The more details he noticed, the more his stomach twisted with guilt. As much as he wanted to, Shawn knew he couldn't ignore the evidence that was quickly stacking up. The tiny man is an intelligent being. And they just took him from his home and possibly his loved ones.
Shawn blinked and looked at Gus, who was staring at him with a quirked brow. The tiny person was still standing on the desk with wide eyes burning holes into the humans.
"Let's talk about that somewhere else," He said, finally answering his friend's question. Shawn got up to his feet and walked over to the kitchen, searching through the cabinets until he found what he was looking for. Shawn hid it behind his back to avoid scaring the little guy into running away. He quickly made his way back to the desk before placing a glass cup over the man. He briefly watched as he held his hands against the glass, glancing nervously between the humans.
Shawn told himself he wouldn't be in there long, but that didn't stop the guilt from rising even higher.
Gus frowned at the method used to keep the little guy there, "This better be quick." He said quietly as he walked into the office lobby. Shawn followed closely behind and shut the door once they were alone.
"I think that little guy is intelligent." Shawn blurted immediately.
Gus crossed his arms over his chest, "How so?" He asked, tilting his head.
"The fishhook is used for transportation, the nail is obviously a weapon, and his satchel is way too advance for an animal or bug to create."
His friend nodded along the more he spoke. "The clothes too. They look like they could only be made by tiny hands." Gus added, looking more and more upset. "It -he- really is a person."
Shawn sighed and rubbed his temple, "And we just kidnapped him and manhandled him."
Gus pointed a finger at him, "There's no 'we,' that was all you."
"That's not helping me feel any better Gus!" Shawn groaned into his hands. "I thought it was a mouse and I was just gonna chase you around with it for a bit." He admitted blatantly.
"You would be doing this case by yourself if you pulled that off." Gus placed his hands on his hips.
"Relax, I would have only chased you for like three minutes." He paused for a moment, "Maybe four. Anyways that's not important," Shawn waved off Gus' annoyed glare, "We need to figure out what to do with the little guy."
Gus paced around the small lobby in thought. "Well if he's intelligent, then he must speak some sort of language." He reasoned. "If it's English, then we will simply ask him who murdered Kirstin and let him go on his way."
"Go where?" Shawn gestured wildly with his hands, "That house is a crime scene. It can't be safe for him. Especially with Carlton investigating the area.”
Gus stopped his pacing in front of the door to their workspace. "We do this one step at a time. Let's focus on communicating with him first."
Shawn nodded, “Alright, let’s get this guy talking.”
Gus held an arm out, blocking Shawn from walking through the door. “I’ll do the talking, you just focus on not scaring him further.”
He frowned, “Fine.” Shawn reluctantly agreed.
Witness To A Crime
Our two favorite idiots are starting to develop more brain cells when it comes to interacting with a borrower! Or at least one of them is…
First: A Not So Average Night
Previous: Definitely Not A Mouse
Next Chapter Coming Soon!
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For Tucker, the question of what to do with him hung in the air for an eternity. His panic rising every second the pale human stared at his belongings. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the pink eraser coming back to poke him in the side again. Tucker quickly backed up with his hands outstretched in front of him, fully expecting to be jabbed no matter what. Instead, the pencil stopped a few inches from him before dropping to the desk. Tucker cast a nervous glance up at Gus and his brows furrowed. The human's eyes almost seemed.... guilty. But that can't be right. Humans don't feel guilt for those deemed inferior.
Finally, Shawn looked up from Tucker's satchel. His eyes were torn away from Gus as he watched the human's huge, clumsy fingers place his bag on the opposite side of the desk. He desperately wanted to run over there and make sure nothing was destroyed, but the four large eyes fixated on him kept his feet glued to the ground.
Tucker didn't know what to do. The humans stared at him like he's some sort of anomaly. His fingers itched for the comforting weight of his nail and the leather that made up his satchel, but with all his possessions stolen away from him, he just stared at his boots instead.
"Let's talk about that somewhere else." Shawn said ominously.
Tucker's heart dropped all the way to the floor. What do they mean 'talk somewhere else'? What don't they want him to hear? It's not like he can do anything to stop what they're planning. His breathing quickened as he watched Shawn start rummaging through the nearby kitchen cabinets, hiding whatever he grabbed behind his back.
They're going to kill him.
His vision quickly blurred with tears as he watched Shawn's massive form approach with an object that will surely crush the borrower to a bloody pulp. The ground shook with every step as death came closer and closer. Tucker wanted to call out to the giant and beg him to spare his small life. However, his voice got caught in his throat as the shadow of the human's arm enveloped him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and braced his body for the pain. Something fell over him with a loud clang that echoed all around him. Tucker slowly opened his eyes and warily glanced at his new surroundings, frowning as he found himself inside of a large glass cup. He slowly crept forward and placed his hands on the cool glass, slightly pushing against it to test if it was light enough to budge. Of course, it wasn't.
Gus muttered something that was too quiet and distorted to make out in his new prison. Tucker watched as both humans rose to their towering heights and left him alone in the room. He could just barely hear their booming voices in the room beyond, but there was no doubt they were discussing if they should keep him or kill him.
Tucker wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve, his gaze hardening. He had to get out of there before the humans were done discussing his fate. He backed to the opposite side of the glass, took a deep breath, and sprinted full force into the wall. He rammed his shoulder into the glass with all his strength and tumbled onto his back from the force. The cup didn't moved at all.
Full of determination, Tucker rammed into the glass again and again and again. Sweat beaded his forehead and his now bruised shoulder throbbed in pain, but the terror of his unknown fate pushed him on. Blinded by his goal, Tucker failed to notice when the humans returned.
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Gus rushed towards the cup as he watched the little guy sprint into the glass. He knew the little fella wasn't afraid to fight back after what he did to Shawn's finger, but Gus would have never imagined he would hurt himself like this.
The desk underneath shook violently and it was only then Tucker realized the humans were back. He stumbled onto his rear and scrambled backwards in terror as a giant hand reached towards his prison. His back hit the glass yet he still desperately tried to push himself further away from their towering forms. Air wasn't reaching his lungs and his heart hammered against his chest as the enormous fingers curled around the glass.
In a panic, he dove towards the middle of his prison as the fingers tightened around the glass. Cool air washed over him when the cup was lifted into the sky, but it was hardly refreshing as he fearfully waited for whatever cruel punishment the humans came up with. He remained fearfully curled up in a pathetic ball on the desk.
They decided to kill me, Tucker realized. Why else would they let me go.
A near inaudible whimper escaped his trembling lips when the humans lowered themselves to the floor, putting their menacing gazes closer to his cowering form. Without a weapon or his hook, he was trapped and at the human's complete mercy, one of which he stabbed. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes as the severity of the situation sunk in. He's dead. He's dead. He's so dead.
The bigger human cleared his throat gaining Tucker's attention. With brown eyes full of sympathy, he addressed Tucker. "Can you talk or understand what I'm saying?" His voice was gentle and smooth, but there was still a hint of concern.
Shivers went down Tucker's spine. The giants were asking their questions now. They are going to try and figure out what he is so they can find more borrowers. Tucker will be responsible for the extinction of his people, or even worse, the domestication of borrowers. As terrified as he was, Tucker knew he had to follow the two remaining rules to keep his people safe: Don't talk and don't tell them what you are. Tucker slowly sat up, and although his body felt like jelly, he met the human's eyes. He will not cooperate no matter how much they scare him.
After getting no indication the little guy understood a lick of English, Gus gave Shawn a questioning glance only to be given a shrug in return. It looked like it was all on him to figure out how to communicate with the little man.
He made sure the tiny eyes were on him before gesturing to himself, "I'm Gus," he spoke extremely slowly with a tone used for toddlers. Gus rested a hand on the paler human's shoulder next to him, "Shawn," he introduced simply.
Shawn awkwardly waved his hand causing Tucker to flinch back. The giant hand immediately shot down and out of sight along with a quiet apology from the human. The borrower curled his legs up to his chest and took a few deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart.
Upon noticing the tiny guy's jumpy reaction, Gus decided to stop gesturing with his hands and simply placed them on his lap. Instead, he nodded his head towards his friend again and repeated their names. They waited for the little guy to catch on and parrot their names back to them, or say his own name, but he just sat there silently watching.
"Of course he doesn't know English, nothing is that easy." Shawn grumbled under his breath.
Gus jabbed him in the side with an elbow, "Knock it off. You probably scared him too much." He accused with a glare.
"Me? You scared him just as much." Shawn retorted, clearly annoyed for being thrown under the bus.
Gus crossed his arms, "You brought him here to begin with."
"Yeah, 'cause he witnessed a murder." Shawn countered.
"That doesn't mean you can just kidnap people, Shawn."
While the giants bickered, Tucker slowly rose to his feet and began creeping back. Humans always get angry and destructive when they fight, and he wanted to be far away when that started. Thankfully they seemed to forget he was even there, until something loudly crunched under his boot. Grimacing, he slowly lifted his foot to see a chip crumb crushed into even smaller pieces. Tucker wanted to smack himself in the face. He completely forgot about the bag of chips being dumped out earlier after all the excitement.
The four giant eyes snapped back to him. Tucker braced himself and waited to be crushed in a fist or smacked off the table as punishment for trying to leave. But it never came. Cautiously, he peeked his eyes open to see the humans just sitting there watching him. They looked upset.... But they seemed to be upset for him. That doesn't make any sense.
Tucker gingerly stepped away from the crumb that got him caught. He kept his eyes trained on the humans as he slowly moved a few inches to the side, testing the waters with each step. All they did was loom over him as they silently watched him inch towards a pen holder. With a beat of hesitation, Tucker stepped behind it and crouched out of site from human eyes.
"Alright.... I don't think he wants to try talking to us." Gus stated with a frown. He could see the little guy's boot poking out the side, but he wasn't about to say that out loud. If he wants to hide then he will let him hide. Both men sat back against the green wall of their office, just tall enough to see the desk's surface while sitting.
Shawn drummed his fingers on his knee, quickly growing agitated from the lack of progress. He stayed silent for about five seconds before he opened his mouth. "Do you think he's a wingless fairy or a leprechaun?"
Gus thought it over for a moment. "He's definitely a wingless fairy," he decided.
"You sure? I feel like fairies are far more peaceful and mystical than this little guy."
"Im positive. There's no pot of gold or Lucky Charms here, and he isn't ginger."
Shawn looked at Gus with wide eyes, "Wow dude. Stereotyping? Seriously?" He shook his head in mock shame, "leprechauns don't have to like gold or Lucky Charms. It's the twentieth century!" He defended the very unreal creatures.
"Well not all fairies have to be pacifists." Gus countered.
Shawn glanced to the side. "Fine, we'll just have to ask him what he is. Loser has to pay for lunch"
"Deal." Gus agreed with no hesitation.
The room turned back to silence as they debated on what to do now. It wasn't like there was a guidebook on how to interact with a terrified, tiny person that may or may not understand English. So both men just awkwardly sat on the wooden floor waiting for something to happen.
That's when Shawn finally noticed the little brown boot sticking out from the hiding spot. He smiled in amusement, "His boot is sticking out!"
Right when the words left his mouth, the boot disappeared behind the pencil holder. His eyes widened and Gus let out a small gasp. They turned towards each other, then right back to the desk.
Shawn was already back on his knees right in front of the desk before Gus could stop him. "You can understand us!" Despite the early morning hour, he was bubbling with excitement. He eagerly waited for the little guy to come out talk to them now that they knew.
Tucker couldn't stop his body from shaking. That was such a brainless move! Once he heard they can still see him, he instinctively pulled his foot in. Who wouldn't in this situation? But he immediately realized his mistake when the humans gasped.
He curled further into himself, making his already tiny frame even smaller. Tucker couldn't catch his breath and his eyesight was growing splotchy. What are they going to do to him now? Are they mad? Will they torture answers out of him, or will they study him?
Tucker flinched closer to the silver tin behind him as Shawn's loud voice broke the brief silence. He was so so dead. He hugged his black poncho closer to his body in the hopes for even a small sense of comfort, but tears still threatened to fall down his dark cheeks. How did a simple borrowing trip turn into such a nightmare?
In front of the desk, Gus grabbed Shawn's shoulder and forced him back down onto his rear. "Quit it! He's scared enough as it is without your big head getting in his space." He scolded.
"But-"
"Shawn." Gus warned, cutting him off before he came up with an excuse.
He threw his arms up before crossing them and leaning back against the wall, pouting like a child. When Gus was sure Shawn wouldn't try anything else, at least for a little bit, he turned his attention back to the desk.
"I'm sorry about him," his voice was now calm and collected. He made sure to speak quietly as to not scare the little guy even more. "Listen, we don't want to hurt you or imprison you. We just need to know what happened to Kirstin back at the house." Gus paused in the hopes he would hear a tiny voice, but there was no noise besides the air conditioner whirring to combat the hot Santa Barbara air.
Gus hesitated briefly before he continued, "The sooner you tell us, the sooner you can go back home." He promised gently, even if that wasn't entirely true.
Tucker shifted uncomfortably as he listened to Gus' words. This human definitely seemed nicer than the other one, but he still made no move to come out. The psychic already figured out the truth back at the house, why would they need Tucker's recollection of the killing? Especially if Shawn can read his mind with his scary power. No, this was definitely a trap to get him talking.
"Can you at least tell us your name?" Gus probed.
No I won't, Tucker internally refused. He fidgeted with the long sleeve of his dark gray shirt, absentmindedly sticking his finger through the growing hole near the wrist. He briefly wondered if he would ever have an opportunity to repair it.
Shawn clicked his tongue when they still received no answer from behind the tin pencil holder. Gus' usual smooth-talking was clearly not gonna work in this case. But there's a way to get even the most stubborn person to talk, you just need to push the right button.
He glanced over to the bag of chips where they found the little guy in the first place. It was definitely one of the last places you would hide in if you were trying to avoid being found by humans. The little guy was probably already in the bag before any humans showed up, and he didn't have time to move to a better spot before Shawn found him.
Shawn's mind flashed back to the little fella's appearance, mostly how skinny he seemed compared to his height. It was clear he didn't have access to much food, and he was most likely trying to take some chips right before Kirstin was murdered.
He frowned. The little guy was starving and they're keeping him from eating any food. Maybe he'll gain his trust if he showed him they only want to help. Without a word, Shawn slowly shuffled on his knees closer to the desk.
"Do you want something to eat?" He asked, copying the way his friend lowered his voice when talking. Although, it was mostly aimed at Gus so he would know what he was doing before he got dragged back again. Gus warily watched as Shawn plucked up a large chip and carefully placed it by the pencil holder. He immediately pulled his hand back and eagerly watched for any movement with bated breath.
As a shadow moved over his hiding place, Tucker scrambled as far away as he can. He squeezed his eyes shut and his body tensed for large fingers to close around him and drag him out of hiding. Instead, he heard something softly land on the desk. Peeking his brown eyes open, Tucker noticed a chip as big as his torso sitting innocently a few inches from the pencil holder.
He frowned critically. The humans were clearly trying to lure him out of hiding. Do they seriously think he's some brainless pet who will trust them after receiving one scrap of food? Still, Tucker's empty stomach growled at the mere sight of food and his mouth began to water.
He hasn't eaten anything since the previous morning and it was really starting to get to him. It was tempting to just run out, snatch the chip, and go back into hiding. They know of his existence after all. But the thought of stepping in sight of the humans, even for a moment, made him feel sick.
Tucker turned away from the chip before he made any rash decisions. He can last a bit longer without food and water. Unfortunately his stomach disagreed and loudly complained about his choice, making his cheeks burn pink in embarrassment.
"I know you're hungry. At least grab a bite before Gus eats it all." Shawn joked hoping to lighten up the mood.
This, instead, sent terror shooting through Tucker. The psychic can really read my mind... he thought to himself.
He swallowed nervously. He needs food. Badly. If they really wanted to hurt him, they would have done so long ago. Tucker wouldn't be able to do anything to stop them. He got up to his feet in a crouch with his eyes locked onto the chip. He wouldn't have to speak to them and break any rules, he's just gonna grab some food. Everything will be fine.
With that in mind, Tucker slowly stepped towards the edge of his hiding spot. He gingerly reached a hand out to see if he could just reach it and drag it back, but it was placed just far enough where he had to walk out. Cursing under his breath, Tucker stepped out.
He tried to ignore the humans' gasps and the sound of fabric shifting from their clothes. Tucker kept his eyes trained on the chip as he picked it up and held it to his chest. Tucker took a few steps back towards his hiding spot, but when neither human made a move to grab him, he stopped.
It took everything in the two friends to not jump around and dance when the little guy didn't go back into hiding. Instead, they smiled and fist-bumped in a subtle celebration. Progress was slowly but surely being made. As long as they stayed on their best behavior....
Even though he was nearly shaking with excitement, Gus still managed to keep up his calm demeanor. "Would you like any water with that?" He asked, his professional mannerisms kicking in.
The little guy shook his head side to side while keeping his eyes on his boots. He tentatively took a small nibble out of the chip.
Gus nodded, "Just let me know if you need anything." He paused for a moment before adding, "I'm glad you decided to come out of hiding. I know it must've been hard." He tried to sound as sincere as possible.
Tucker finally pried his eyes off the floor and glanced up at the humans. His heart jolted when he made eye contact and he nearly beelined straight back towards his hiding place. Until he noticed the sincerity in Gus' eyes. No matter how hard humans try, they can't fake their emotions towards borrowers. Their faces are so big they're like billboards advertising how they feel. Borrowers are able to see every twitch of a lip and flick of an eye to know one's true intentions. And Gus was truly being sincere.
He paused for a moment before nodding his head in response to the human, although 'hard' seemed like a major understatement.
Gus frowned slightly at that. "Well," he began, "Like I said before; once you tell us what happened to Kirstin you can go home."
Tucker almost let himself become hopeful when he noticed the human brown eyes quickly flick to the left. His eyes narrowed. Gus was lying to him. They're just trying to trick him into talking. His feet shifted in preparation to run back to cover when the psychic piped up.
"Relax, I get it. You have a fear of public speaking," Shawn said with a smirk. "Just nod your head yes or no if Kirstin's husband murdered her." His voice was full of confidence despite his quiet volume.
Dammit! How could I forget he can read my mind. Out of fear of what the psychic might do to him with his strange abilities, Tucker forced himself to stand in place. They already knew he could understand them, no more damage was being done. With his lips still sealed, he quickly answered the question and shook his head 'no'.
Shawn perked up, "C'mon, son!" He exclaimed triumphantly. He pointed a finger at Gus, "I told you it wasn't Steven!" He said with a smile as if he wasn't discussing a murder.
Gus rolled his eyes, "Sure, it's not the husband for once. But how do you plan on proving this to the police?" He cast a glance at the tiny man, who was now covering his ears from Shawn's outburst. Gus frowned at the fear he still showed them. Why can't he see they won't hurt him?
"Don't worry. Once we find the real murderer everything will fall into place." Shawn said with a smug smile.
He crossed his arms, "And how do we do that, Shawn? There's no other suspects."
Shawn nodded his head towards the tiny guy on the desk. "We have a witness right here." He answered simply.
"He won't even talk to us." Gus pointed out.
Tucker flinched as both humans turned their attention back on him. His eyes nervously danced between the two, but rested on Shawn as the human shuffled closer to the desk. Tucker clutched the chip even tighter to his chest and it cracked under his fingers.
"Hey little guy!" Shawn cooed as his face got even closer to him.
Tucker's breathing quickened and his heart started up its raid pounding again.
"Wanna make a deal?" He continued with a voice used to address toddlers. "You can go back into the walls once you tell us who killed Kirstin." Shawn said innocently as if it was the best deal in the world.
Tucker stopped breathing for a moment. His heart fell to the empty pit of his stomach. He stared blankly at the human with his mouth hanging open. "....What?" He whispered in complete shock. Tucker shouldn't be surprised the psychic read his mind to find out where he lived, but it still left him feeling dizzy. The human was threatening him now. He's gonna tear open the walls and kill his people and it's all going to be Tucker's fault. If he complies, will the human spare his people?
Tucker swallowed thickly but his throat was still dry. It wasn't fair. He did everything right once he was caught; He never uttered a word to the humans or told them he's a borrower. But of course he got caught by that damn psychic.
He stared at the humans through teary eyes, ignoring the way their giant faces lit up when he uttered his first word. Taking a shaky breath, he opened his mouth. "I'll tell you what'cha wanna know as long as you don't hurt my people." Tucker demanded, but his voice sounded so weak and pathetic compared to the humans.
He waited with bated breath as he watched the humans register what he just said. Hopefully Tucker was making the right call.
Kaito: I have a solution.
Shinichi: Thank Goodness.
Kaito: It involves fire.
Shinichi, about to lose it: Absolutely not.
Conan, about to do something reckless: On a scale from One to Ten, how bad do you think it would be if-
Haibara: At least a twenty.
Shinichi: I still want to know how you managed to get the car on the roof.
Kaito: I can't reveal all my tricks.
Kaito: Want to see what kind of trouble we can get into?
Shinichi: Oh god, we're going to die, aren't we?
Kaito: it's a Tuesday, I know how to restrain myself.
Shinichi: You absolutely do not.
Ran: Aren't you going to stop him?
Kaito, chasing Hakuba with hair dye and scissors.
Shinichi: Nope. I've given up trying.
Shinichi: Stop that. It's to early for you to be in such a good mood.
Kaito: It's four-thirty in the afternoon.