You decide: What happens next?

A story where you choose what I write, I'm hoping this will end up being a pretty awesome co-operative project. Rules are explained in the first chapter


5. Chapter 1 Part 3: The end of something new

Jonathon Samuel Milistring, (2080 - 2112) -  Victim II

He was found dead three days into his second term. The shattered glass from where the window had been broken held no clues, despite rigorous examination. No weapon or remains of such were found, just a lifeless corpse bleeding hopelessly from the neck. Nothing was stolen, nothing but a life. The CCTV caught only a hidden face and a swift escape.

The country mourned for the same three days he survived in office. Some said it was too long, some said not long enough. A few celebrated, but were less grateful when their number were shot down. It was by no means the first lynching, much as it was by no means the last assassination. The nation cried out for justice and took it where they could. The promised golden age had been cut short, if it had ever arrived.

An emergency parliament was assembled and the most elite investigators tasked with identifying the killer. All knew that he was the best thing to happen to the country for decades, yet someone had enough incentive, be it money or anger, to remove him from his position. It was testament to the impact he had had that the country pulled itself together so quickly - after the three days of mourning all returned to work, with the exception of the victims of the nineteen lynch mobs.

Perhaps the worst day, however, was the fifth after his death.


It was Debra's second day back at work after the tragedy. She had been answering calls and explaining the situation so many times she felt as if she understood the events of the past week better than any other human in the world. Perhaps that was an exaggeration, but it was worrying that she could now recite the emergency government's three page statement on the event by heart. After a quick search in a break she decided she was probably not mad, but quite possibly going crazy. This was not the first time she had suspected as much, nor would it be the last.

She remembered quite vividly a conversation on her first day that involved so many tangents it could have been a maths test. How they got onto the probability of a baseball starting a chain of events that would eventually cause an entire town to go missing she never quite worked out. Crazy. That was the only word for it.

Still, there were worse things to be. Sane, for instance.

Finally, she was freed from the autonomous torture of the same phone call four hundred times and allowed to go home. So she did.

Or at least, she tried to.

She never intended to get involved in any of this craziness, but being crazy herself it was rather hard to avoid. Perhaps a sane person would have been able to stay out of trouble. Or not. The fact remains, Debra did get involved.

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