Dragged You Down to the Devil's Show

I walked into the office and was bombarded with questions from my colleagues.

"How are you feeling, Christy?" "You feeling better?" "How was your vacation?"

I told them I was doing good - because, honestly, I couldn't remember why I took some weeks of vacation for myself.

"Tristan wants to see you in his office," Kate Walters whispered to me once everyone resumed to their positions.

She cocked her head towards the office that had a sign that reads: Tristan Knights; Chief of Police

I thanked her and made my way towards the office, knocking on the wooden door before I could faintly hear Tristan telling me to come in.

I walked into his office and almost immediately, he reached out and embraced me tightly - catching me off-guard.

"Welcome back," he said and closed the door behind us.

He motioned for me to sit down on the wooden chair before taking a seat on his own chair.

We talked and then, his face was all serious - I knew he wanted to talk about work.

"Now that you're back, Christy, you know I have work for you to do," he started and I shrugged. "But you don't have to take it if you don't feel like it."

"Come on, Trist," I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Just because I'm your best friend doesn't mean you have to go all easy on me."

"I'm not! I just - " he protested. " - You just came back from a vacation so I totally understand if you need a little bit more time to sort things out."

"Right," I shook my head and smiled. "No, comrade. I want you to treat me like you do with the others outside."

I eyed on the folder he had in his hands so I stood up and snatched it away from him. He was about to protest but he sighed in defeat.

I browsed through the file as he explained the case. "Eight girls are found dead - either by suicide, an accident or natural death."

"And it's a police case because?" I questioned and looked through the victim's autopsy photos.

"All eight victims happen to be hanging out with a band in their afterparty before their deaths occurred. Almost five of the victims have a high level of alcohol and drugs in their system at the time of their deaths. I think the band did it," he explained and crossed his arms.

"You think the band did it in their afterparty?" I looked up from the file to him with skeptism.

"Don't look at me like that Christy - I know how crazy it sounds. My gut is telling me that these are the guys who murdered those women and made it look like suicide," Tristan flipped the pages on the file and pointed to a photo of the band.

"Were they sexually abused in any way?" I studied the photo for a moment before reading the report on the paper.

"There are signs of semen in them but the band made it sound like the girls were willing to do it," Tristan crossed his arms again, leaning back against his chair.

"They're rockstars, Trist. Girls their age would do just about anything to sleep with the band members," I started and when he was about to protest, I quickly intercepted.

"Anyway, there is no evidence to prove that they killed the victims," I closed the file and placed them on the table. "All of them had an alibi to where they were on the night the victims died."

"That's the problem, Christy! We have no evidence against those rockstars," he said the word rockstars with disdain.

"Why do you want to take this case with a passion?" I studied his moves with scrutiny and he went all serious again.

"One of the victims happened to be a friend's sister's best friend - who swears with her life that the band had killed her best friend. I promised them to look into the case and I was hoping that since you are the person for the job; that you'd look into it," he finally smiled at the last sentence.

I looked at the file on the table again, my arms resting on the armrest and my fingers supporting the weight of my head. Then, I sat up straight and nodded.