113 St James's St, London SW1A 1HD
My name is Inspector Demitra
I am writing a diary of the path I went down to find the killer of a man named Samuel Alexandra
As I entered the building with detective Morris we made our way to the room were the crime took place, it was darkly lit with half burnt candles and faintly lit golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The first thing I noticed was a pole in the middle of the room; there were no windows and a strong smell of rotting flesh lingered in the air. The blood specks on the floor wouldn’t have been noticed at any angle as the carpet was a rose petal red color. He was indeed rather handsome. “Moroccan specie” I called him. From the way the mole was perfectly placed onto his face to his muscular build. As I circled his corpse I couldn’t help but notice his lifeless dark brown eyes. They were fixed on me; it felt as if they were following me somehow. I remembered my crime school days and studies of the Victorian times, some students were convinced if they took a photograph of the victims eyes they would be able to identify the killer. I felt a sudden shiver down my spine... He was staring directly into his killer’s eyes when this atrocity occurred. The dried blood had invited the ants to feast. “The circle of modern life” I said to myself. In the trail of my thought I suddenly noticed marks around his wrists. Handcuffs or a piece of thick rope? Was this murder or a sex game gone wrong? “Do we know anything regarding his involvement with strippers Mr. Morris?” I asked “Yes” he replied faintly “I shall email you my report directly Inspector” Clearly this gruesome scene was too much for Inspector Morris to handle. His face had turned a pale blue and I stepped back thinking of the new shoes I had just bought. Studying this irresistible male I...