In a world where the supernatural doesn't exist. A civilisation far more advanced than our current world, a paradise where everyone is free.
The streets are vibrant with lush leaves and trees all over the sidewalk. Lamp posts can be found every few meters so that no one gets lost in the dark at night.
Gadgets that allow instant communication like a much more advanced version of a telegram device.
I was walking down one of those streets, holding one of those gadgets.
Next to me was ■■■■ and ■■■■, they were holding my hand.
"■■■■ shall we go home?"
[Yes... Lets go.]
"Bang!"
I opened my eyes to find myself on the floor next to my bed.
'What a weird dream...'
I picked myself up while rubbing my head, slowly standing. Looking at my right hand it had already mostly healed, the scars less visible. My body also didn't ache as much as yesterday.
As I walked towards the living room, I smelled the scent of mutton soup along with freshly baked bread.
My mother, spotting me, urged me to quickly sit down and eat before the food got cold.
Enticed by the aroma of the food, I picked up my spoon, using it to generously scoop up a large amount of soup and shoving it into my mouth. I then tore off a piece of bread and used it like a sponge, dipping it into the soup.
The taste of mutton was very prominent, it was rich and savoury but not overpowering. The bread acted as a perfect base, providing texture to the soup.
"Amon, isn't Mr. Graham Hensley a professor at your former university?"
"Yes he was, what about it?"
"Well... It says here on the newspaper that... he was found dead in his apartment yesterday afternoon."
'It seems like the police decided to release the information about Graham's death. I should pretend that I did not know about it and act shocked.'
"WHAT?!"
I slammed the table hard, pushing myself upwards, the bowl of soup almost toppling over.
Pretending to be shocked, I made the most worried face I could to better sell the lie.
"It... can't be. How did he die?"
"It seems like someone broke into his house that day and murdered him. They say the details are too gruesome, thus they did not extensively explain it."
I fell back down onto my chair at this news.
After a moment of silence, I pretended to lose my appetite.
"I... I don't think I have the stomach to eat anymore... I'm going to head out."
"What a shame... The food was really good but to complete this lie this must be done."
As I got up from my chair and headed for the door, my mother added another piece of news.
"It seems that Headmaster Silas Hargreaves, grief-stricken by Graham's death, has resigned from his position and also decided to hold a funeral next Wednesday."
'What? Headmaster Silas resigned? And grief-stricken?'
This piece of news truly shocked me, as from what I remember he and Graham left on bad terms... Wait, Graham did send that letter to Silas.
I tried to remember that day when I went to Silas's office to question him about Graham and found the letter that he sent to Silas. Though the contents of the letter were a lie, maybe Silas and Graham did make up in some sort of way without me noticing, considering Graham even bothered to send him a letter.
But to think that he would go so far as resigning and holding a funeral for Graham...
'I should ask him about it during the funeral.'
After picking up the coat from the rack, I left the house, deciding to leave the problem about Silas to another day.
***
Mill Street.
This was a lower-class residential area, most of the houses consisting only of one-bedroom apartments.
In my hand, I was holding a half-eaten apple while I walked down the street.
'Henry Cooper. His house is the closest to mine and also on the way to the Braveheart Bar.'
I saw many beggars along the street, some male, some female, and even children. All of them were malnourished, their bodies consisting of only bone and skin. Only thin clothing to cover themselves.
I then entered one of the buildings and made my way up to the third floor, knocking on one of the doors.
"Hello? Mr. Cooper are you home?"
Rustling sounds could be heard from the other side of the door, slowly making their way towards me.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
"My name is Amon Civik, you may refer to me as Mr. Civik, and I have been appointed your psychiatrist."
"I have no money to pay you, and I don't need no psychiatrist so get out!"
I heard the sound of him moving away from the door. However, as much as I wanted to leave this dump of a place, I had a job to do.
"You were injured by a zombie right?"
It was then he stopped moving before turning back and opening the door.
As the door opened, I saw an unkempt face and his hair long and disheveled.
"I know you made an oath not to talk about it, but since I already know about these stuff you are free to talk to me. Besides, the cost of my service is covered by the people sponsoring you."
He squinted his eyes, seemingly checking me out to decide if I was trustworthy or not.
Eventually, he fully opened the door and welcomed me inside.
His body, now fully exposed, showed countless scars all over. His left arm was completely gone and he was skinny, the once muscular body of a labourer nowhere to be found.
'What a pity. If I was in his position would I also have become like him?'
This question lingered in my mind as I stepped into his apartment, making my way through all the trash until he and I found a clear space to sit and talk.
"Don't be afraid Mr. Cooper. Just talk as much as you want about the incident, you do not need to be afraid about anything."
"Really?"
He still did not trust me fully, but eventually he opened up and slowly recounted the event of that night.
"That day, my supervisor had me work overtime just because I was late by a few minutes. I could not say no as he threatened to fire me, but... if I could go back in time I would have quit in a heartbeat."
"The night was cold. Colder than usual. At one point frost started to appear on the edges of my fingertips. It was then I felt that something was off."
"When I tried to leave the building I found out that the doors were locked from the outside, leaving me unable to leave."
'Locked from the outside? Could it have been an accident or a deliberate action by someone?'
"It was then... I saw it. A corpse walking out of the darkness. Its body was a sickly green and chunks of its flesh were gone, however it still charged at me with incredible speed. In a moment, it appeared next to me and tore off my left arm."
"Back then I was still extremely muscular unlike now, but still it easily overpowered me when I tried to fight back. But just when I thought I was going to die, Mr. Bram broke down the door and saved me from the zombie, shooting it dead."
'From the notes, apparently Bram just happened to be walking down that street during the incident and heard him scream for help. In a sense this guy is quite lucky isn't he.'
"After the zombie was dead he helped to treat my wounds using some sort of device that emitted light and that is it."
"I see. Thank you Mr. Cooper for being so brave and sharing this traumatic event with me. If you wouldn't mind, could I ask you some specific questions?"
My notebook, which I held in my hands, at this point was already half-filled with information, but something still seemed off.
'How did the zombie get into the building and who locked the door?'
"Do you know who locked the door that night?"
"No, everyone had already left while I was still working and the door wasn't locked then. I always thought that the zombie was the one who locked the door."
"I see..."
'That should be impossible though. According to the notes, zombies are physically strong but lack human intelligence, only able to attack mindlessly. I suspect foul play must be at hand.'
"I have already told the people that Bram brought me to after that night and they said they will investigate the door locking but they could not find any information about it."
At his words, my brows furrowed. If Mr. Carrow and the rest of the Braveheart could not find anything suspicious, the odds of me discovering the cause—two years later no less—are practically zero.
We continued to talk for another hour and soon three pages of my notebook were completely filled with information about him.
"Ok, Mr. Cooper, that will be all for today. I will come back next Monday and Friday for the next month or so if that is fine with you."
"Yes, that will be nice Mr. Civik. And... thank you for listening to my problems."
"No, no it is my pleasure to help you. Goodbye then."
I then left the house, consolidating the information I just learned from him.
'The circumstances of his incident definitely weren't natural. In the sense it seemed planned...'
Once again, I walked back down the street to head to my next patient.