The Tyrant's Trophy
Not in Vain.

Quinn:

‘Grief: I now understand is a sort of madness, in the same way, that falling in love is Madness.’ - Patrick Swayze.

How fitting that quote is for this situation. Love and loss - how I wish they didn’t go hand in hand. I warned my brother but the deed was done and the consequences have passed.

It broke my heart, to see Chad in his own hospital bed. Maybell had left him on the floor with multiple lacerations, a minor concussion, and littered with bruises. There were no broken bones, however - minus a slither fraction on his pinky.

Still, she didn’t kill Chad and for that, I’m indebted to her. However, Chad felt differently. He wasted no time blaming me when he became aware; cursing me out for Maybell finding out the truth. Now, he won’t talk to me unless it concerns any news of Maybell or Phil.

As a doctor, I’m pretty good at separating emotions from logic. Though it’s the job of a doctor to preserve life and treat wounds - we’re still surrounded by grief. It can be suffocating if one doesn’t disconnect in time when logic is needed.

Logic reminds me that my brother is hurting emotionally and physically. He isn’t ready to accept that Maybell left for good. Also with that concussion, Chad’s memory isn’t organized correctly. He couldn’t recall much detail of leaving with Abijah yesterday - his mind is solely focused on May.

So, yes, logic says don’t take it personally; don’t blame yourself either, but how I feel is a different story. To summarize: It saddens me to see my precious little brother so hurt. The sister bear in me wants to comfort him in some way: bring Maybell back if possible for him, but that’s not in my power.

“It doesn’t matter anyhow.” I wiped away my tears, hoping to regain my focus on the recent autopsy report. I had a mini pocketbook in my hand to write down some key notes.

Sweetheart had to be the killer: though the surgical cuts were sloppy, giving the appearance of an amateur - they were precise upon closer examination. The slices were deliberate - so Kelly would feel the worst pain imaginable. Not to mention Kelly’s heart was carefully removed; not ripped out. Only skilled surgeons could accomplish that.

The only sloppy mistake Phil made with Kelly was leaving the other organs and littering her body with bruises. Her face had a particularly large bruise with a shoe print engraved in it. Phil is slipping.

The organs further proved Phil was the assailant. A normal body that’s been maimed and tortured would further show signs of damage in its organs. The kind of beating this woman received would surely have punctured at least one vital organ. Yet, that isn’t the case with Abijah’s friend.

All of her insides were intact and preserved: enlarged and healthy as if they were brand new. Even after being deceased for more than three days, Kelly’s organs were still lively-colored and swollen: they almost seemed plastic…that’s not normal at all.

“Knock, knock!” Out of habit, I stuffed the booklet in my pocket as the intruder entered my space. Information like this was too valuable to let just anyone know - even if my recent guest is my old college friend.

We had worked on cases before in the past so it felt like old times having Toshi enter the morgue room with a cold brew coffee for me. After returning the case files to the Chief of Police along with notes - He sent Toshi back to concur with my findings in Kelly’s case. Why the chief thought I needed help - beats me - but it’s protocol and since this is a sensitive case - a second opinion is needed. God knows we’re going to need all the help we can get to put Phil away.

A second pair of eyes will be useful. “Thanks.” I accepted the cup. “Sorry, you had to drive the whole way here.”

“Don’t be sorry, Quinny!” Toshi plopped himself in the chair next to me. “I miss working with you.” He gave me a side hug, placing his head on my shoulder to look over the papers. Uncomfortable, I nudged him a bit off of me and moved over so we wouldn’t be so cramped. He didn’t comment on it and neither did I. After reading the report, he asked, “What makes you sure this is the same killer as with the children cases? The ‘signature’ isn’t the same.”

“Because the tools used are the same as the ones that severed those children. Also, her heart was professionally removed.” Again, not ripped out. “A tell-tale sign it was professional.”

My partnered ‘Ah’ but then questioned out of the blue. “Why didn’t you stay working with Dr. Sweetheart?”

I stiffened, taken aback. “Huh?” I kept a stoic expression. I had yet to divulge the information I had on the doctor to the police. It may seem dumb to not do that but with the revelation of Phil’s connection to the darker side of Chicago…I don’t want to chance to tip off a possible informant. “Where did that come from, all of a sudden?”

I gulped down some coffee. It was sweet. “Too sweet.” I forced the abomination down. Super sweet coffee was the worst. Putting the cup down, I decided to toss the monstrosity in the trash once Toshi left.

Toshi gave a cheeky grin. “You’ve always been smart - even back in the day. I remember how obsessed you were about Dr. Sweetheart; fangirling about one day working under his leadership.”

I cringed with that reminder. “I was young.” And clearly stupid. “You know what they say: never meet your hero.”

“He couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You have no clue.” It sprewed out, stunning me. Why did I say that aloud? I thought, feeling dizzy out of nowhere. The words on the paper were blurring - I closed my eyes, hoping for this discombobulated sensation to pass.

Toshi didn’t notice any of this as he continued ranting on about our college days. “I used to envy the good doctor. At how the mention of his name would bring a sparkle to our eye. It drove me absolutely insane when we graduated and you went on to intern at his clinic.”

My body started tingling. “Something isn’t right.” I felt Toshi wrap me in another hug but it felt faint - my body was trying to go numb. My eyes shot to the coffee. Was it - “Poison?”

Toshi’s mouth was close to my ear. “Quinny, why have you never looked at me that way? I always looked at you, hoping one day you’ll return my gaze but you never did.”

“Let me go, Toshi!” I tried screaming but he covered my mouth.

“Shh -” Forget hushing! Squirming away from that hand, I bit down hard. “OWW!” I threw my head back, connecting with with his face, forcing him to release me before I sprinted out the room. “Come back!”

“No thanks!” I shouted back, turning into the room where we keep the deceased bodies. What sucks is this was the basement/morgue. There weren’t many places to hide besides the body shoots or gurneys.

There wasn’t much time: Toshi was coming. My phone vibrated, giving me an idea. Fortunately, it stopped. Hurrying to one of the mortuary fridges, I opened it and placed the phone inside, shutting the door but not all the way so it looked like I was hiding in it. Then, I ran to the gurneys with bodies and hid myself between them, crouching low so the covers could shelter me.

“Quinn?” My assailant came in. I held my breath, though my breathing was already becoming difficult. My hands were becoming numb. Before Toshi could come my way, my phone went off; the vibration drawing his attention away from the gurneys. “Quinn!”

Noticing the crack in the shoot, Toshi opened it ready to pounce, only to stand confused. As he did that, I stood up and rammed a gurney into him, shoving his body into the fridge. Running out of the room, I dashed towards the elevator and headed up.

When I got to the top, there was a commotion. Adam Carter was here. His wife was in labor and ready to birth to her kid. Adam’s been the one calling me and demanding my staff to bring me there that second. He wouldn’t allow anyone else near his wife.

There was no time to tell them about the drugs - not when that baby was mere minutes from being born. If I waste time - it could harm the child or Mrs. Carter. Besides, It’s too late for me. I know it. Toshi is partnered with that swine Sweetheart and his ‘medicine’ won’t take long to course through my body and kill me. There was no cure…the least I can give before my last breath is the flash drive.

My death will not be in vain.

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