Jealousy
When Ann was very young, she fell into a lake.
Her hometown, Weather Bell, was situated by a big lake that stretched over almost the entire town. Born on the bank of this lake, she would often hear people say her eyes resembled the pristine blue water of the lake, and it never failed to make her shy and happy at the same time.
This lake, also known as the Window Lake, held stories so ancient that it was recognized as one of the most mysterious and old places in the Ruhi Empire. The lake was often visited by townspeople, families having picnics, or friends playing on the water, swimming and rowing boats together.
It was during one of those family outings when Ann got into the accident. She was playing on the narrow cement road by the lake, bouncing a big red ball she got as a gift on her sixth birthday from her elder brother. She threw the ball a bit too hard, and it bounced straight to the lake. As any child would if their favorite toy fell into the water, she approached the edge of the water and reached out her tiny little hand, trying to get her big red ball back.
She couldn’t remember exactly how she fell as she was quite young at that time. One moment she was reaching out her hand, creating waves with her little palm so that the ball would float closer. The next moment she was into the water, her small body quickly getting swallowed by the giant lake.
Even if Ann couldn’t remember how she fell, she remembered the feelings at that time as clear as day. The way the cold water of the lake forced its way through her mouth and nose, climbing through her lungs and pushing out the oxygens. The suffocating feeling as she thrashed her limbs around, and the intense fear when nothing entered her vision but the dark, bottomless water of the lake.
It was terrifying, cold, and silent.
Now looking at the cold corpse of a body that she proudly once called was hers, she felt like she was shoved into that cold water again. She couldn’t breathe, as if her lungs weren’t breathing oxygen but lead. Her vision spun, and for a moment, she felt like she was trapped in a tunnel with no end.
Terrifying. Cold. Silent.
She felt weak all over, sweats drenching the inside of her clothes like droplets of rain. She wanted to turn around and just run, run until she woke up from this nightmare. She wanted to scream, scream until her throat burned and her mom came to soothe her, saying it was just a dream. But her legs, regardless of her wish, forced her to stay where she was, as if they were refusing to let her escape this haunting moment. And her voice, the voice that didn’t belong to her, refused to utter a single word.
“No sign of struggling. Hmm….”
Byron muttered as he inspected the cold corpse of Ann Mackenzie. Blood was pooling around the body from the hole at the back of her head. She was shot on her forehead, right above her eyebrows, and the bullet seemed still lodged inside her skull. He leaned over and inspected the bullet hole on her forehead, trying to figure out what type of gun was used to murder this girl.
“Hey, man. Which gun do you think…..”
Byron looked up as he spoke, only to stop halfway when he realized the person he was about to ask was nowhere in the room to be seen.
Ann couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t just stand there and watch her once warm body lying cold in a pool of blood and being inspected like a guinea pig. She forced her now muscular legs to move and immediately rushed out the apartment, regardless of what others would think.
Once outside, she opened one of the hallway windows and shoved her upper body forward. A few birds, resting on the window sill, flapped their wings and flew away. Ann was too busy to pay them any attention, while the birds watched her with their beady eyes. Her stomach clenched as a wave of nausea washed over her. But because her stomach was empty, all that left her mouth was air and the sound of retching.
“Hey, hey, man. You okay?”
As soon as Byron came out, he saw his best friend, the famous detective Rayan Lancel, leaning over a hallway window and dry heaving. To say he was surprised was an understatement. It wasn’t the first time they worked on a case together, nor was it the first time they saw a body lying in a pool of blood.
They have seen their fair share of mangled bodies; bodies without arms or legs, their innards spilling through their ripped belly, brain matter pouring from the hollow skull, bones twisted like a rubber band. Compared to those horrible corpses that sometimes gave him questions whether they were humans or just stuffed animals, this Ann Mackenzie’s corpse looked like a broken doll with its strings cut, if put nicely.
“I know ya had a thing for her but isn’t your reaction a bit too much? It’s not that bad, you know. The gal didn’t even know.”
Ann couldn’t hear, or care less, what this chattering cop was saying. She felt her ears ringing, her heart thumping, and her vision spinning. She took a few deep breaths, trying to push back the waves of nausea ripping through her throat and focused on her breathing.
‘Breath Ann. It’s okay.’
Whether it was her strong mental strength or this body just wasn’t used to panic attacks, her breathing eased quickly, and she was about to think clearly again.
‘I don’t know what happened, but this is bad. Very very bad. If I’m already dead then, how am I existing in someone else’s body?’
Questions swirled in her mind. From the moment she woke up in this unknown body to the series of events that followed, her questions only grew. She never believed in the afterlife, but that didn’t mean she didn’t believe in spiritual rest. People must go somewhere after they die, whether it’s heaven or another dimension. But she, out of all the oddities, ended up in an unfamiliar body with zero memories.
“Hey, listen up, buddy. I know yer quite shaken up right now but we’ve got a job to do and I am not going to report to that Bradford bastard-”
“Detective? Detective Lancel?”
“Shit.”
Byron muttered under his breath as he turned around. He tried his best to keep a neutral expression, but his face betrayed his true intention. With a grimace, he greeted the new individual that approached them.
Ann also heard someone calling from behind. She wanted to ignore, but against her wishes, her body turned around on its own as if responding to the name. That’s when Ann realized; the man was indeed calling out to her, Rayan Lancel, and this body was just simply responding.
“Yes?”
Ann nodded, albeit unwillingly. Her breathing had calmed down a lot, and no matter how much she wanted to crawl into her bed and curl up in a ball, the current situation needed her attention and she couldn’t afford to ignore it.
“Long time no see. I hope you remember me.”
The man who approached them showed a polite smile as he greeted them. Well, he only greeted Ann, now Rayan Lancel, and completely disregarded Byron who was standing just next to her. Byron didn’t seem to bother much, he just muttered a few more curses under his breath which clearly entered Ann’s ears before looking away.
“Yeah, long time no see, Mr…..”
Ann trailed off, fighting the urge to bite her tongue. She had no memories of her current body, so she definitely didn’t know the man’s name. Hell, she couldn’t even tell if the person in front of her was someone this body was acquainted with or not.
“Mark Bradford. We met on the last Train Slash case.”
“Uh, yeah. Mark Bradford. Nice to meet you.”
The man only let out a chuckle, clearly not bothering to return the gesture.
“Well, I guess now this case will be solved in no time. After all, the world-famous detective, Rayan Lancel, is investigating it, right?”
“This case wouldn’t have existed if you only listened to us…..”
“What was that?”
When Byron muttered in defiance to his mocking tone, the man frowned and finally looked at him. Byron was shorter than the man, but he looked the least intimidated by the man’s presence and rather scowled at him as he spoke.
“We told ya so many times that the gal’s in danger. If only ya listened to us, she would have been alive.”
“Ah, I’m sorry, I don’t understand the dark accent. My noble ears aren’t just used to it. Would you mind repeating it in plain imperial language?”
At the clear insult, Byron looked ready to throw punches. The fact that his dark tone distinguished him from others never bothered him. But he just couldn’t take it when people insulted his way of speaking. He speaks perfect English! Those who say otherwise are deaf!
While they were having this short bickering, Ann studied the man. The man was a blonde and had a rather fair complexion. His slick hair was neatly combed with no strands of hair out of place. He wasn’t as muscular as her current body, but he seemed to be strong enough to throw two or three Byron down in a few punches. He appeared a few inches shorter than her, and seemed to be in his mid-thirties. However, the most noticeable thing was his royal blue uniform with a big ‘Special Force Investigation Team’ written at the front.
After finishing bickering with Byron, the man turned to her.
“So, how many days am I expected to receive the finishing report? 3 days, 4? Surely the famous detective won’t need more time than that.”
Ann could literally feel the hostility and mockery in his voice. It wasn’t the kind that’s spoken to look down on people, rather it was the kind that reeks of one particular emotion.
‘Jealousy.’
Mark Bradford was jealous of Rayan Lancel. Rayan Lancel foreshadowed that she, Ann Mackenzie, was in danger for whatever reason, but this Mark Bradford, out of his jealousy toward him, disregarded the warning which ended up with her being murdered.
Once Ann got this information, she felt like she could handle him way better than handling people without common sense.
“I’m flattered that the Captain of the Special Force Investigation Team considers me capable of finishing this case in just 4 days. It’s just that I’m a bit disappointed that Captain Bradford disregarded my warning previously. Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been any case to solve.”
It’s because of you she, I, died, you bastard.
Ann wanted to say that, but considering that she still was short on a lot of information, she held herself from being overly judgemental. She didn’t know what kind of animosity this guy had with her current self, Rayan Lancel, but she could infer from his bickering with Byron that this guy was bad news and a pain to deal with.
Mark Bradford’s lips almost twisted into a sneer. But he held himself back and smiled instead.
“Well, I didn’t know Detective Lancel was a soothsayer.”
“You don’t need to be a soothsayer to analyse information and come to an accurate conclusion, just talent.”
‘Yeah, suck on that, bastard.’
Perhaps Ann’s message landed a blow, Mark Bradford’s smile vanished. He glared at her, as if silently cursing her 18 ancestors, and said with gritted teeth.
“I would like to see how accurately you analyse information in this case.”
“By all means, please do so.”
With a scowl, Mark Bradford gave her a once-over and left.
“The bastard finally left.”
As soon as Mark Bradford left, Byron muttered almost in relief. Ann wanted to question why he hated the guy so much, but remembering their short exchange just now, she could understand a bit.
Mark Bradford was a d**k.
“Alright. Let’s go in now. We don’t have time and I don’t want to meet that bastard again.”
Ann almost grimaced, but she shared his feeling. She also didn’t want to deal with that guy anymore, but she didn’t want to enter her apartment and inspect her own body either. But considering that guy was the Captain of the Special Force, he would definitely come again to nitpick if he saw her standing outside idly.
With a sigh, she followed Byron. He was right, they had a job to finish. After all, she was no ordinary detective but the famous Rayan Lancel, or whatever they called him. Honestly, she never heard his name as she was busy with her own life and not into murder stories. But people are mostly well-known in their circle of work, and it seemed this body, Rayan Lancel, was well-known among other investigators.
Especially considering that guy, Mark Bradford’s, open jealousy, he also held quite the reputation.
The exact same scene appeared before her when she entered her bedroom the second time. No one moved the corpse even an inch, and even the blood stayed where it was pooling, now a shade darker as it had thickened. The corpse, her corpse, was wearing her usual one-piece short-sleeved nightgown. The salmon color of the nightgown was what always compelled her to wear it as she loved the color.
To be honest, Ann didn’t feel uncomfortable because she was dealing with a corpse, but she felt uncomfortable because the corpse was none other than her own self.
‘Let’s just get it over with.’
Mimicking the way the detectives behaved, which she saw in many TV series, she slowly sat down by the corpse, her corpse, and was about to reach out her hand when Byron exclaimed loudly.
“Hey, hey! Whatcha’ doing? Where’s yer gloves?”
Ann’s hand, reaching for her corpse, froze. She wasn’t a detective, so it was given that she didn’t know the many formalities for inspecting a body. It’s just the people around her didn’t know, and her current behavior would definitely make them suspicious of her, especially considering they were all cops. Fortunately, there weren’t many people in the room, only her and Byron, and that female cop taking pictures like a paparazzi.
“I forgot…..”
Byron raised his eyebrows at her answer. He gave her a look of ‘Are you kidding?’, and pulled out a pair of disposable gloves from his pocket and handed it to her. Soundlessly, Ann took the gloves and wrapped her hands with them in no time.
‘It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re alive….. well, at least you were. This is just your previous shell, that’s it.’
Consoling herself with such words, Ann took a deep breath and cautiously picked up a slender arm of her corpse.
While she was inspecting the arm mimicking the way she remembered the detectives did, Byron walked around her and sat on the other side of her corpse. Without hesitation, he began pulling the collar of the corpse’s nightgown, intending to inspect the skin around its collarbone.
Ann was horrified at his crude behavior, she almost screamed at him to stop him from doing whatever he was going to do. But remembering they were investigators, and this was nothing but a corpse and he had a formality to perform, she swallowed the words and exclaimed instead.
“Wait!”
Byron immediately looked up at him, a confused look on his face. His hand was still tugging the collar of the corpse’s nightgown as he looked at him.
“What?”
“Not you….. her.”
Ann pointed to the female cop who was wandering around them and taking pictures of the whole apartment, including the corpse. Seeing him pointing at her, the female cop froze and stared back-and-forth between Byron and him with a startled expression. She was only told to take pictures of the murder scene, but now suddenly being pointed at someone she thought was over-her-league made her surprised.
It wasn’t only the female cop who was surprised, even Byron showed a confused look. He looked at the female cop, who was throwing him her own bewildered look, then at Rayan, and couldn’t help but say.
“She’s a newbie.”
“I know.”
Ann cleared her throat and spoke, trying to find her non-existent courage to sound confident.
“Newbies also need experience. If they don’t help us solve cases, how will they gain experience? Let her take your place and learn something valuable.”
Byron showed an absurd expression at her reasoning and was about to open his mouth when something flashed through his mind. He raised his hand in a defeated gesture and stood up, took the camera from the bewildered female cop, and pushed her toward the corpse.
The female cop stumbled forward, almost tripping over the corpse’s feet. She quickly composed herself and showed an awkward smile, which only mirrored Ann’s own.
Finally managing to save her corpse from almost being violated, Ann sighed inwardly and focused back on the arm she was holding.
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