The Fifth

A series of peculiar murders have lead a rather indifferent detective to try and find the culprit. He can almost predict exactly when something won't happen...but not when it will.

Fingers slid along the desk in frustration, stopping at the paper I was writing on. My eyes glanced up to meet the grimace of a familiar face. He was a friend, in the most unfastened definition of the word. I did no favors for him, and he rarely did any for me, but when the time came, he was able to keep me company in the midst of the doldrums that life had to offer.

"You shouldn't be so focused on that," he scowled down at me. I raised an eyebrow at him and continued to write. Who was he to inform me on what I should and shouldn't be dedicated to? In brimming frustration, he snatched the paper from beneath my hand. "What even is this?"

"It's a personal project," I assured him in a calm manner, returning the paper to its rightful place -- on my desk.  

"There are more important things going on. It happened again!" he exclaimed, anger evident in his expression. I reclined in my seat, studying his eyes very carefully. 

"And what is this 'it' you are vaguely referring to?" I questioned, amused at his reactions.  

"You know what it is," he muttered, pointing his finger at me sternly. I let out a halfhearted chuckle, only causing his anger to grow. "Another murder! You've been beaten again. People are relying on you, trusting you to stop this from happening and --"

"A terrible decision, actually," I mused, slowly making my way to a standing position. I took my sweet time in stretching and letting out a long yawn. "They should know better that I work on my own schedule, and not theirs."

"But there are innocent people being killed out there!" he pleaded, gesturing towards an opened door behind him. His dedication to this  argument was entertaining, to say the least.

"Innocent? Define innocent. While I don't support the act of killing another human being, these people are far from innocent." I snapped, making my dear friend recoil. I cleared my throat, and adjusted my tie. "Besides, what do they expect me to do? Stop the murderer right away? By what means? Magic?"

"I...I don't know,"

"Precisely. I'm the expert in this field, not them, not you," I reminded him,  eyeing him carefully. "I assure you, there will be no killings tonight, if I have this person profiled correctly. No,  today he should take a rest, if he were wise. Hopefully, I'm overestimating him."

"You promise?"

"Do you not hear yourself? How childish you sound?" I snickered. "I don't make promises. Why keep me bound to my words? I can reassure you based on my knowledge, but I can't predict the future. Even I am not that good."

"I apologize," he grunted. "I'll leave you to your work now."

"As you should," I nodded, taking a seat. 

The End

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