Categories
Musings

Why is the CEO of Brand’s the richest person?

It makes sense doesn’t it? The sheer number of Brand’s chicken essence he must have sold. People buy it in flocks, especially if they are visiting someone. I think there must be a doctrine somewhere that you must buy Brand’s chicken essence when you are:

  • Visiting someone in hospital after an operation
  • Visiting someone who is sick in hospital / at home
  • Visiting your gf/bf’s parents for the first time
  • Visiting your grandma / grandpa
  • Don’t know what else to get

My mom was admitted to hospital for a simple knee operation, to insert a small piece of metal into her right knee because her cartilage has worn off and the bones are not straight anymore.. Guess how many Brand’s stuff we saw when we went to visit her in the evening? And it was just 1 day!

deathbybrands.jpg

And yes, being the blogger that I am, I purposely arranged it nicely and took a picture. I counted 1 basket of Brand’s Innershield something with Berry flavour, FIVE boxes of chicken essence, 1 Brand’s bird’s nest, another bird’s nest from 正中平medical shop & a 生魚精 (whatever this is) from the same medical shop, together with 2 random bottles of American ginseng and cordeceps.

My mum can drink a bottle a day and it will last her at least 1 month.. Not to forget she has another 2 more days before she is discharged. Oh. My. God.

Oh. And stop giving grapes! I’m going to be sick of grapes soon.

Categories
Musings

I saw a dead person!

OMG! I saw this dead ang-mo person this morning.. I had to take this photo..

blood_puddle.jpg

It was so traumatizing I couldn’t believe it.

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BOO! It’s a pillow! A blood puddle pillow!! It’s freaking ingenious! I really want this pillow. If anyone gets it for me, I’ll… kiss the person!

Ha ha ha.!

Categories
Writing

[Story] RYAN — Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ryuichi, aka Ryan, sauntered out of the office, not even bothering to pack his things on his desk. He truly and really didn’t care. What’s there to care? With his brains and his academic record, he can go anywhere. Even without the academia benefit, with his charm and his way with words, nothing has ever stopped him. He’s decided he will not work in such a boring 9-to-5 job again. Makes it difficult for him to plan his little escapades, his little fun murders. Rather, to him, they are not murders. He is sending these people straight to heaven. Prematurely. They get to enjoy the benefits of paradise early, courtesy of him. These girls should thank him.

Feeling extremely proud of himself, he roamed the roads of Vegas. Popping into a casino here and there and played some easy games of blackjack and roulette, he was there to cruise for his next target. They had to be of the same – what was that word the profilers used – type. They thought they had him down pat. So they thought. He was laughing so hard when they labeled him tall, white male in his mid-thirties. Well-educated, possibly victim of a single-mom home child abuse. Good looking (that part he liked), and eloquent. They would be looking for the wrong person! He was short and asian! Mid-thirties? He’s not yet 30! A few more months to go, that’s the real truth. Maybe he ought to help them a little. That star thing obviously wasn’t much help. They thought it was a trademark. Part of his Modus Operandi. What a joke. They need more education. All of a sudden, he knows what he can do to help them along.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

“Inspector Kim Ji Hon, please come to the reception counter. There is an urgent package for you.”

“Urgent package?” Kim was curious about the intercom announcement looking for her. She let her boys take a break and hurridly headed down to level 1, where the reception was.

Receptionist Ursula saw her and quickly waved her over. “Inspector Kim, this is for you. The delivery guy said it was super urgent and had to be delivered to you immediately without delay so I had to intercom you. Wasn’t sure if it is dangerous so I took the liberty to call Bomb Squad as well.”

“Woah Ursula. That was detailed of you. No problem. I’ll wait for them to come before I open this package. Look, there they are,” Kim became wary after hearing Ursla’s words.

“I thought I’d better be careful. We all know what case you are working on,” Ursula said while the bomb squad investigated the package.

20 minutes later, the squad announced that there was no danger of anything going off. The package was deemed ‘clean’. Kim decided she should open it in her own office.

Inside the box was a simple envelope. A plain manila envelope. And a Jewish text. A copy of Eshkol Ha-Kofer, one of the oldest Jewish text. One page was bookmarked.

Kim opened the envelope and slipped out a few pages. It was a printout from Wikipedia. It was an article on the number ‘seven’.

She flipped to the dog-eared page of the text and it was the section where the Star of David was mentioned.

“Seven names of angels precede the mezuzah: Michael, Gabriel, etc. … Tetragrammaton protect you! And likewise the sign, called the ‘Shield of David’, is placed beside the name of each angel.”

This particular line was hi-lighted, with the word ‘seven’ especially underlined. Kim took out the Wikipedia print-out and found the section which mentioned about the Judaism relevance of the number seven.

“A highly symbolic number in the Torah, alluding to the infusion of spirituality and Godliness into the Creation.”

Without a doubt, this package was from the killer that they have been tracing for so many months. Kim sent the contents of the packages for analysis, with a short report on the people who might have touched it, therefore leavivng fingerprints or trace.

After that, she fell into deep thinking.

What did the killer mean by sending her these things?

Categories
Musings

Lone Wolf

Does anyone remember this? The Lone Wolf game book series created by Joe Deaver???

Lone Wolf

There was a period of time in lower secondary where I was absolutely hooked on these gamebooks. Right down to the basics, a game book is something like those RPG that is widely available now, except its in words and you play it with your eyes & a pencil & paper. A game book is played in such a way:

1. There is often a stats page where you can fill in your HP (health points), EP (endurance points), items which you collect, weapons, skills etc that you have.. As this is always changing, it is advisable one copies the pages onto a blank piece of paper. And use a pencil. 🙂

2. Read the opening of the game where there will be a history & a setting where this particular book is set on. At the end of the intro, there will be a line that tells you which section to go to. Flip to that section.

3. At almost every section, there will be a choice-point. Here, you pick an option that you think you should/want to go. Sometimes this option is simply a directional option i.e. NSEW. It could also be based on what skills you have or what items you have. Some options lead you to find useful items/skills etc and some options lead you straight to death.

4. There will always be a battle somewhere in your course of the game. The battle is fought (usually) by pitting your EP & HP against that of the other party, and using a random number generator.

5. The purpose of the book is to fulfil what task had been given to you in the beginning of the book. There will always be a fixed ending section. But not necessary a one-way route to it..

We (rather, I) always cheat. I’ve never “fought” a battle and I’m always backtracking sections when I die, or when I meet with something I don’t like. I usually try out a few options before “picking” the one that I want to follow in the end.

Kinda sad but aaahh.. If I tried to complete the book dutifully, it will take me days! days on end boy! Hohoho. Well not really, probably 1 day I suppose, have never tried it so I wouldn’t know. Hahah.

And recently I’ve been wanting to pick it up again.. Simply cos it’s the fun-est thing that I did after my kiddo days.. Like reading Nancy Drew & Hardy Boys.. Or watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles & Captain Planet on TV. Or playing zero-point & hopscotch with my neighbours.. Or playing 5-stones & catching downstairs with strange kids.

Those days, we read books & played with kids outside the house. Those days we read Pride & Prejudice & Little Women

And I’m such a boy-girl mix… Cos Lone Wolf = BOY thing… Nancy Drew, hopscotch etc = GIRL thing..

Gee. lol.. ;p

Categories
Singapore

Final post on homosexuality stand

This gay vs anti-gay debate is starting to get ridiculous. The same “arguments” are being brought up over and over again.

A recent commentary made by Ms Yvonne Lee, a Law lecturer at NUS (ha!), in The Straits Times as linked from Yawning Bread here. I had to link from Yawning Bread because I couldn’t find a more neat and comprehensive reproduction of the original article. I suppose her views are, though very much flawed, typical. She did serve as legal counsel for Temasek Holdings and a professor at NUS. Singaporean universities are very apt at hiring people who have no references & no publications under their belt. Other than those published by the University Press of course. Boo. Those who do actually do research have moved elsewhere..

Her views are really extremely typical of the run of the mill arguments that anti-gays put across. And since there is a multitude of links tracked by tomorrow.sg, I suppose its pretty pointless for me to argue against HER points. So i’m going in generals.

This post is the LAST time I’m going to make my stand on homosexuality & its criminalising. As well as the religion / moral POV that anti-gays take.

All thanks to MM Lee’s fleeting mention that he thinks the authorities must take a “pragmatic approach” to what he sees as an “inevitable force of time & circumstances”. Source from Asiaone news. He also mentions that “Singapore should not actively pursue homosexuals who engage in sex.” There is a sudden unwelcome increase in unwanted attention to the homosexual community in Singapore.

For so many decades, homosexuals have lived in peace and harmony with the rest of the community every where in the world, Singapore included. So why is the spotlight on them right now? Before this incident, I am almost 100% sure that nobody even knew of the existence of the Penal Code section 377A.

The most common arguments against legalising homosexual activities are more often than not, on moral & religious grounds. Religion is inherently good and teaches their believers to serve the less fortunate and champions world peace (sic!) It is the people who thwart religion and make it into something that champions what they themselves believe in and want to achieve, some evil plan that they conceive. God is always the black sheep that people blame for their misguided deeds.

Which is why using religion as an argument for being AGAINST someone is plain bullshit in my opinion. B.U.L.L.S.H.I.T. Stop defacing the sanctity of God (in general terms) and all that He stands for. Stop using Him as a mask that you cowardly hide behind in your futile and disgusting way of defending your un-religious views.

Did religion teach you to be intolerant of those who are different from you? I seriously doubt that. Then why are you being intolerant? Isn’t that against your faith? Isn’t that against all that God has taught you to be? Then on what grounds can you stand up and tell dissenting people that they are ‘immoral’, and what they are doing is ‘against the nature of mankind’.

Homosexuality is present in mankind since the Greeks and the Samurais were born. Japanese history tells us that Samurais have sex with women and marry them for the sole purpose of procreation and letting the blood line continue. Their real love comes from the brotherhood. It is a culture for seasoned samurais and novice samurais to have sex and love each other. An article about the history of samurais confirms this. Homosexuality wasn’t that deviant in those days, in those cultures. Asian for that matter. In fact it was a necessity for the Samurais, who were the highest class of beings in Japan, second only to the ruler.

So if it was natural then, how does it not be natural now? Did the definition of natural change over time? Has God somehow altered the natural state of things in this world somehow?

On the same thread of natural, it is also argued that homosexuality goes against the institution of marriage, which is reserved for one man & one woman. Who said it? Who decreed that marriage is only for the man-woman combination? Yes, God created Adam & Eve and not Adam-Adam or Eve-Eve. But they had to procreate so by fact of nature, only a sperm & an egg can fuse to create a baby. They had nobody else anyway, how are they to know if they actually love the opposite gender? They might have been gay/lesbian/bi-sexual for all we know.

Marriage is a commitment of two people who are in love and are willing and committed to spend the rest of their lives together, happily ever after (ok, this is cliche). If two people of the same gender can do that, what right do we have to go against it?

Procreation. Many heterosexuals are not giving birth right now. So I will be right to say, from the “homosexuals cannot procreate, therefore population growth will decline” POV, that we should criminalise the following:
– Infertile men / women
– Heterosexuals who chose not to have a child
– Heterosexuals who are too poor to afford having a child

Why are we not doing so then?

Another popular argument is that gays are more promiscuous and thus they are the reason why there are more AIDS cases. Oh. My. God. How imbecile. It’s akin to saying we have to criminalise all SARS carriers, all Hep B carriers, all Bird Flu carriers etc etc.. Our jails will be extremely over-crowded. More jails need to be built. Are these people willing to say give up their houses to make way for more new jails?

These people argue that it is intrinsic that heterosexuals are more committed to relationships, especially women. Right. Maybe I should put out some stats for the number of abortions being carried out, the number of single moms there are.. Since gays & lesbians can’t procreate, these instances must have been committed by heterosexuals right? There goes the commitment theory. Flying out of the window.

And that their sexual activities are more prone to AIDS? Wherever did you guys get that from?? So we should BAN all sex activities then? Nobody should have sex at all. It harms others. Oh and those who make such propositions might have never heard of the term ‘oral sex’ or ‘mutual masturbation’. I doubt either of these will cause AIDS. Maybe we should ban them as well. No masturbating and no oral sex. Na-dah.

Oh that note, maybe we should criminalise sneezing, coughing, spitting, yawning (who knows what air-borne germs might come out of the person’s mouth). We should all wear a spacesuit out. Because, everything you touch can be a breeding ground for germs. We should all eat space food too!

We have intelligent people living in this country.

I am so proud.

Categories
Writing

[Story] RYAN — Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

Summer 2004.

The sun shone brightly outside, a strong contrast with the damp dark surroundings that he was in. The room was small and stuffy, reeking of urine, blood and something else, and water had gathered in puddles in different parts of the room, still, as if watching his every move. The ceiling fan groaned and moaned with every pained movement of its arms. The windows were boarded up, the planks of wood amateurishly nailed to it.

He lay on the bed, not moving. He never moved a muscle. He didn’t even blink. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling. His body was covered with red streaks. Blood was trickling out of those red streaks. Flies buzzed around it, sometimes landing on his wounds, feasting on his blood and laid eggs in his open wounds. But he never made any attempt to swat them away. He just lay on the bed, not moving. Not moving a muscle, not batting an eyelid.

But how could he? He was anything but alive. In fact, he had been dead for over a day now. His body had begun to rot and a dreadful stench greets anyone who enters the room.

But who will enter? Who will venture into a dilapidated hut, buried in a thick forest in the rural outskirts of the country? Who will enter when a certain eeriness and dread enveloped the hut, even in broad daylight?

His body was going to be left there, as food for the maggots. His body will decompose and one day be returned to Mother Earth. He is already forgotten, long lost in the memories of his friends and family. He was alone in both death and life.

Voices were suddenly heard outside. People were coming. The living. What are they doing here? Had they come for him? Was he not forgotten after all? Was he loved?

“There it is! Inspector Kim!”

“I see it. Prepare your guns, just in case. We can never be too careful with him as our target.”

“Yes Ma’am!”

The group of five made their way to the hut carefully. As if afraid to wake him up. If he was alive and saw this, he would have laughed and sneered at their stupidity. But he wasn’t. He’s dead.

Suddenly the door burst open. A flood of sunlight steamed into the old hut. Four men and one woman entered guns first and quickly scanned the place.

“Inspector, it’s clear.”

“Alright. You two check the room on the right. Jackie, you take the kitchen. Sam, we’ll take the left room. Ok. Let’s go people.”

The five split and went quickly to search their respective rooms. Inspector Kim burst into the room and saw him. She immediately told Sam to call for the others. With her gun still pointing to him, Inspector Kim moved closer to him. Inspector Kim took one look at his eyes and decided there was no life in him anymore. Without turning back, she spoke to the others waiting at the door.

“He’s dead. Get the forensic.”

Categories
Writing

[Story] RYAN — Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

Inspector Kim was tired. She had had a long week and the forensic pathologist’s stupid corny jokes didn’t help. She’s always wondered how he could crack such jokes in front of the dead. And with them as the subject of the joke. Is it some kind of occupational trait that most pathologists she’s met love to crack such morbid jokes?

“Argh! Glad this case is finally to be closed. Will just have to record that girl’s testimony and I’m done. Finally.” Kim though wearily to herself.

Inspector Kim Ji Hon, 31 years-old, is one of the best criminal profilers in Asia. Born in Korea but raised near the most dangerous neighborhoods in New York City, she was tough and street smart. She learnt to hide her emotions behind an icy cool façade, never once allowing anyone to break that exterior. Her seeming calmness helped her in many ways, most importantly; it gave her team sense of control and steadiness. She was a great leader and often motivated her team members in ways she didn’t even know she did. They could learn heaps simply watching her work.

“Inspector! The girl’s awake and the doctor says we can interview her now.”

“Thanks Sergeant Toby. I am on my way.”

Inspector Kim dragged her tired body out of the chair and decided to head for the ladies to freshen up before interviewing the girl. Arriving at the police hospital where the girl was being treated for her wounds and psychological trauma, Kim couldn’t help but pity the girl. She was only 19. She had a long life in front of her and yet she had to go through this kind of shit. She definitely deserved better. The doctor saw Kim and motioned to have a word with her outside the ward.

“Inspector, I hope you will be kind to her. She’s very severely distressed. I must warn you that Posttraumatic Stress Disorder is no joke. I have already led her through the first step towards recovery but she still needs more time. I pushed for a delay in interviewing but I understand we have a time constrain. I just hope you take note. I will be at the side to give her confidence and security. Also to inform you, I might forcibly stop the interview whenever I deem necessary. But then again, inspector, you probably already know what to do.”

“Thanks Doctor Watts. You were just doing your job. Rest assured I will take exceptional notice of it. It’s been a really tedious case and I really wish to let my men go for their well-deserved break. Anything else that I need to know about the girl? What’s her name again?”

“Mandy. 19 years-old. Very intelligent from what I gather from my therapy sessions with her over the past few days but very vulnerable. Too vulnerable in fact. Good luck.”

With the doctor by her side, Kim pushed the door to the ward open. Mandy sat on the bed, hugging her knees and staring at her toes. She still had that blank look she stumbled into the station with. But the hysteria in her eyes was lessened. Kim heaved a silent sigh of relief. She hated dealing with witnesses still in hysteria. She hoped this lessened hysteria is not just temporary and would come back with her first question.

“Hi. My name is Kim and I need to ask you some stuff ‘k?”

The girl nodded.

“We’ve found what you told us we’d find in that old hut. You know what I am talking about right?”

She nodded again.

“Ok. So you were the one who cut him?”

Another nod.

“Why did you do it?”

Silence greeted Kim. She knew she bordered on stepping over the line.

“Ok. If you don’t want to talk about it, next time then. We’ll just call it a day.”

Kim sighed and got up, casting a knowing look at Doctor Watts, the resident police psychiatrist which says, “Call me when she’s ready” and left the ward.

Outside, it was bright and sunny. Sunlight almost blinded Kim and she had to blink a couple of times before she could see properly again. Thinking that there was little to do but to wait for Mandy’s recovery, Kim sauntered down to the nearest Starbucks for a quick chocolate Frappucino. It never failed to make her feel better.

Armed with her frappucino, she headed back to the station and called for a meeting with her team. When they streamed into the meeting room, she could see fatigue written all over their faces. She loved these men. They helped her tackle many cases since her promotion to Inspector.

“Well guys! It’s another job well-done. We’ve all worked our asses off this case. Time to relax and take some time off for our families. As a reward, I have applied for one week leave for all of you. Paid leave. Beginning tomorrow. But today, you can have the rest of the day off. Now scram!” Kim raised her voice jokingly.

Shouts of cheer and laughter filled the tiny room. Gone were the lethargy in their movements and they found sudden bouts of energy. Kim lay back in her chair and smiled. A smile she’d never put on for many months.

“Oh man! Didn’t I just say scram? Now scoot all of you! Your holiday officially begins NOW! If I see anyone of you left in the room by count of ten, holiday’s off! Get out!” Kim closed her eyes and began counting. By the time she counted to five, there was complete silence in the room. Kim peeked and true to her guesses, the room was empty.

She smiled. Again.

Categories
Writing

[Story] RYAN — Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Grabbing her unfinished chocolate frappucino, Kim headed back to her office. She set the cup on the coaster and collapsed into her armchair with a ‘plonk’. By god she was tired. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples. She slurped her chocolate frappucino, took one look at the thick folder on her table, gave herself two light slaps on her face and flipped the folder open to the first page. A mug-shot and a profile were staring right at her.

Ryuichi Takemori, Ryan to his friends. 33 years old. Thrice divorced. Twice for beating up his wife and once for marital infidelity. Graduated from Harvard University with a Masters degree in Marketing Communications. Worked in Circle Productions as their Public Relations Manager for the first 3 years. Was asked to quit after a major PR mess-up which apparently cost the company a few million dollars to cover up and repair the damage. Unemployed since.

Kim closed the file and thought about the months she had spent on this case. Too many months with too little sleep. There was only so much her body could take further. She lit a cigarette and puffed deeply, letting the smoke flow down her throat and feel it travel to her lungs before exhaling. She knew she shouldn’t smoke too much. But the temporary relief was too tempting. Leaning back into her armchair for a little shuteye, Kim felt relieved that the case was finally to be over.

While Kim was catching some forty winks, Doctor William Watts was busy taking Mandy through her road to recovery from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Recovery seemed very positive and at a good pace in the beginning but suddenly Doctor Watts seemed to have hit a blank wall. Mandy was no longer responding to his therapy. Something is not very right and Doctor Watts was worried and puzzled. It was as if he was facing this huge, blank wall with no end on all four sides. No way could he get over it. The only way is to break it. There has to be something he could use to break that wall. The wall of silence.

The worst thing is that nobody has any idea what happened to her when she was caught by Ryan, why did she stumble into the station badly injured, and why did she stab Ryan. Without this information it will be difficult to cure her of her PTSD. He didn’t know how to continue. Looking at his watch, Doctor Watts decided it was time for the session to end. He patted Mandy’s hand, smiled and left the room with a sigh. While walking back to his office, he is reminded of another case four months ago, where a sophisticated and intelligent 30-year-old woman was so afraid of this same person. Ryan.

Mandy, despite appearance of stupor, heard and saw all that was happening around her. She knew she was causing both the smart inspector and the handsome Doctor more troubles and holding them back. She didn’t want to do that but she was scared. She was scared even though Ryan is already dead. She was not just scared, she was terribly petrified. She couldn’t help it, but every time she closes her eyes, Ryan’s face pops up. She remembers the hut and its dead and bloody inhabitant. She remembers every word that Ryan has ever said to her. She remembers. Everything.

And she hates it. She hates how she shivers with fear every time she thinks of him. She hates how her heart beats ten thousand times faster when she hears the name Ryan. Such a common name yet it causes such misery and pain to her. She knew she had to get out of the rut. She could not and should not continue to live in his evil shadow.

Three different people, three different stories. One man.

Categories
Writing

[Story] RYAN — Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Winter 2001.

It was Christmas and the house was decorated brightly in red and green. The roof was buried in snow but it was warm inside the house. Two huge golden bells hung on the mahogany front door which called out sprightly whenever a visitor enters. The living room was cleared of all furniture, replacing the sofa with huge cushy beanbags and mats. In the balcony was the buffet table, where a crowd gathered. Some were assessing the quality of the food, some piling their plates with different quantities of the dishes, and some were simply gathered there to chat for a while. A DJ table had been set up at the leftmost corner nearest to the bar and the DJ was spinning great, pumping dance tracks hour after hour. The hired bartender was up to his neck serving drinks after drinks to the crowd of party-goers. All over the house people were dancing and grooving to the beat. All this while, the host was busy making small talk with all her guests and ensuring everyone was having a great time.

Eliza wanted and needed a break. This Christmas party her best friend organized was great but it was too much drinking and dancing for one night. She walked to the second level where the bedrooms were, hoping she could rest for a while. She reached for the knob of the first door but before she could open it, she heard moaning coming from inside the room, followed by shouts of pleasure. She frowned and silently berated these people for not having respect for the host.

“Fancy having sex in someone else’s house. Goodness.”

But she soon realized that all the bedrooms were occupied in such manner. Cursing her bad luck, she decided to make a move and leave the party. She weaved in and out of the crowd, trying to find her best friend but after half and hour of futile search, she gave up and simply walked out of the house, closing the door behind her and shutting out the noise.

Little did she know that someone had followed her out of the house. Little did she guess that tonight would be the last night she ever lived?

It continued to snow and Eliza pulled her coat closer around her body. She regretted not wearing a beanie that day. Her scalp was almost freezing even with the hood of her coat up. Eliza walked faster. At the main road, she tried to catch a taxi home but there was none in sight whatsoever. She was starting to feel the cold and stamped her feet to work up some heat.

“Damn. Where’s a cab when you need one.” She muttered under her breath.

“Sorry miss, are you waiting for a cab?” A deep voice sounded behind her.

Eliza was startled.

“Woah! You gave me a shock. But yes. It’s difficult to wait for one now, it seems.”

“Do you want a lift? My car’s just beyond the small forest.”

“Erm, well, it’s really ok. I will just wait a little while more I guess.” Eliza was unsure if she should accept this stranger’s offer.

“But it’s really difficult to flag a taxi here. Plus it’s snowing and you might freeze out here if you don’t get home soon. I mean no harm miss.” The stranger put up both his hands as if in surrender.

“Oh. Alright. I guess you are right.” Eliza felt the stranger’s sincerity and charm, deciding then to take that ride.

Little did she know that ride will take her straight to her death.

Categories
Writing

[Story] RYAN — Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“This is the third case in the last 5 months. The MO is the same, the clues left are the same. Exactly the same. Exactly the same star comprising of two intersecting triangles, cut exactly one inch into the flesh. Everytime. No fingerprints were found. No hair was left around. Girl definitely raped but no traces of semen. We are dealing with an intelligent John Doe here. Someone who possesses some medical knowledge. Someone who either reads up extensively on police work or is or has been a member of the force. I sincerely hope it’s not the latter or we will be in deep shit this time. Ok. What have you guys got on this fella?”

“Nothing new or interesting. What we know is what you have boss.”

Kim sighed. This is bad. Very bad. This case is not making progress at all. Whoever he is, he’s one hellava good killer. Kim could practically vision his taunting face, sneering at her and making snide remarks about how inept they are at attempts to trace him.

“Alright buddies, let’s go through these cases again and see what we extra stuff we can figure out.”

The afternoon wiled away just like that, with Kim and her capable team holed up in their tiny discussion room, trying to fix the jigsaw puzzle that is this mysterious killer. Pictures of the victims, with their names scribbled at the bottom, were taped to the huge whiteboard in front of them. Sherry, Melissa, Eliza. The mysterious killer who took away their lives with seemingly no remorse. No guilty conscience. No hesitations. Many different things were written on the board. The predicted profile of this John Doe; a fairly detailed sketch of the Method of Operation and a possible computer-art of how he might look like.

In the police hospital in the next block, Dr Willam Watts was fretting over his newest case. Ashley, 28 year old woman was in his care. She was brought in because she was almost knocked down by a car and the police officer who happened to save her saw her deranged state and decided to bring her in for treatment. Terribly battered both inside and outside, she was a picture of total wreck. Bruises and cuts were rampant. Burns covered her entire back. Her left nipple was cut off. She walked with a very serious limp caused by her broken right leg. She looked so terrible even the nurse didn’t bear to look at her for more than five seconds. But what made Dr Watts sigh was that she refused to say anything. Her eyes were withdrawn and she refused to look at anything else other than the wall. Even if you forcibly put her in the field, she will simply look at her feet. Dr Watts tried all sorts of methods. From persuading to coercing to tricking to hypnotizing. Nothing worked. Nothing could make her talk. Not even in her hypnotized state would she say a single word. For the first time in his 15-year career, Dr Watts was stumped.

Two streets away was Corona Industries. A handsome man was standing in a huge office on the very top floor, facing the wrath of his boss. Looking from the outside through the glass doors, one could not help but feel the anger of the boss as well. His face was red with anger and he was banging his fist on the table ever so frequently. You may even see steam coming out of his ears if you looked closely. On the other hand, the receiver looked cool and moderately mocking. He just didn’t seem to care. Although he had his head bowed low, there was a trace of a smirk on his face and his whole demeanor was shouting ‘To hell with it!’ This, together with his condescending remark of ‘Yes Boss’ to everything that his boss says, was the last straw.

“Ryuichi Takemori. You are FIRED! GET OUT!” His now ex-boss screamed and spitted at him.