Basement Trash

Different drafts and unfinished stories I found when looking through my computer, stuff I never got around to finished or maybe just simply left.


5. The Strange Case of Scarlet Ryo - Chapter Two

A Sailor Doesn't Lie

Scarlet’s confident promise seemed to hang in the air, long time after they both left the room in which it hanged. The promise didn’t hang at their current location, saltwater did however. Mr. Wilfred found himself at the harbor with Scarlet.

He wasn’t entirely sure why they were here of all places but he thought it best not to question the professionals, after all, Scarlet did have quite a few solved jobs behind her. At the moment she was reading all the fact about the case, she had requested that Mr. Wilfred wrote it down, insisting that she somehow would remember it this way.

Mr. Wilfred didn’t understand but once again, he had given up questioning her ways.

“All done.” Scarlet said in relief, insulting Mr. Wilfred a tiny bit, he happened to be fairly proud of his writing abilities, yet she seemed happy to be done. Then again, perhaps she wanted to solve the mystery as quick as she could.

Scarlet casually threw the paper away; Mr. Wilfred hurriedly grabbed it before it hit the ground. The nerve! He sighed slightly as he put it in his bag, in any case it was best to keep this information, both so he could update it but also so he could keep up with all of it.

“Let’s begin.” Scarlet said with a determined look that Mr. Wilfred couldn’t help but admire. She started walking and by the looks of it, she knew exactly where and why. It didn’t take long before they reached their location, which were a buffy-looking sailor taking a break.

It looked like the sailor had been working on his boat. Mr. Wilfred had to take a few steps back as Scarlet approached him. But no wonder our poor Mr. Wilfred felt ill at ease, the sailor was twice as tall and his forearms seemed as big as Mr. Wilfred’s head.

The sailor did by no means look harmless. Despite the tough and scary exterior, Scarlet approached fearlessly, why even cheerfully. “Sir, can I have a minute?” she requested. The sailor glanced at her.

“Ay, what is it?” he spitted, now reader, this might seem like a spiteful act but it was in no way intended to be, it was merely the way that sailors around here spoke, with a lot of spit and a lot of alcohol.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were working on your ship, repainting it?” he nodded impatiently. Scarlet just laughed a cheerful and obnoxious laughter as reaction to it, almost as if she didn’t realize the nature of the nod. “I just wanted to offer to paint it for you.” She offered.

Mr. Wilfred was beyond confused at first, and then he realized what she was doing. She probably wanted information or a favor from the sailor, and a great way to get that was by helping him, also if he insisted to paint too, it wouldn’t hurt.

It was easier to get information from a sailor while working with him.

“It will barely cost you anything, why it would be just like ordering an extra big lunch, expect you will get a painted ship instead of food, and I cannot recommend eating that.” She said with a way too big smile.

“Eh?” Mr. Wilfred surprised let out. Was she just trying to get another job? “Miss Scarlet?!” he exclaimed louder than what he usually would. She turned her head towards him and the big, happy smile was replaced with a look of annoyance and spite.

“Ay, go play with a knife or something.” She rudely said before looking at the sailor with a big, happy – and very fake – smile.

“Eh, did you just say something incredible rude and unladylike?” he slowly asked in hope of getting confirmation that it wasn’t so, no it couldn’t be so. She looked at him once again, this time the expression seemed to be even more extreme.

“Go die somewhere else scum or I’ll kill you.” She said before once again giving the sailor the happy smile.

“You most definitely said something outrageous, what way is that to talk to the one paying you!?” he cried shocked and insulted. This time she turned her entire body towards Mr. Wilfred instead of only her head, she looked annoyed and pissed.

“Tsk, imposters should just go die, you aren’t my boss.” She claimed.

“Y-yes I am. I’m Albert Wilfred.” He said. Scarlet froze.

“Hehe,” she nervously laughed “I-I knew that, I’m just playing a tiny joke on you. Ha, ha, ha, hah…” she lied while keeping the very fake and very nervous smile that she got once she found out the truth.

“Even though you somehow forgot that I am Wilfred, why would you take another job?” he asked her in a serious tone.

“Wh-what?! I didn’t, why would I? When I have a – perfectly – good – job – already? Hahaha, I was just testing my… My loyalty.” She explained.

“Your loyalty?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah, through- through temptations. That’s why I went here, so I would see all the jobs I could get but then not try to get one.” She lied.

“Wouldn’t that mean you failed?” he asked. Scarlet did for some reason not feel up to answering that and ignored the question.

“That reminds me, there is a reason I came here concerning the job you gave me. Have you heard the saying, a sailor doesn’t lie?” she asked him.

“I haven’t.” he asked, eager to begin the job.

“Neither have I. But I like it, so it must be true. Therefor we are going to ask sailors for information, I am sure they would just love to share it with a handsome guy like you and an innocent girl like me.” Scarlet concluded.

“Innocent? Didn’t you tell me to go die and that you would kill me before?” Scarlet didn’t seem to hear the remark.

“Okay, so I will continue with this good sir here and you will go somewhere far away, so we can get to so many as possible, if you are done within an hour or two, you are not doing it properly and need to start over again, understood?” she asked.

“So you want me to go a place where I can’t see you, so you can get the job of painting a ship?” he more stated than asked.

“Exactly, off you go!” she said and pushed him away. Mr. Wilfred were far from satisfied but left as she asked, thought he didn’t really know what information he was supposed to ask for.


He came back after a five hours as requested and came back to Scarlet with paint on her cheek and clothes; the worst part was how she clearly did nothing to hide it.

“So did you make any progress, at all?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“A lot, can you believe I finished the entire ship in only three hours?” she proudly shared. He nodded depressed over the lack of actual progress on the case.

“Wait three hours, what did you do in the remaining two hours?” he asked her.

“I have been hired by a Mr. Wilfred to solve a case, so I asked around.” She said. Mr. Wilfred was willing to look past the fact that she forgot that he was Mr. Wilfred out of sheer excitement.

“What did you find out of – I’m Mr. Wilfred by the way.” He said along with a hurried introduction.

“Oh, hello Mr. Wilfred. I can’t claim to have gotten too much information but some I did. The sailor – Brandon – told me that he just so happened to meet someone with the pendant.” She told.

“Wh-what?! That’s amazing; here I thought you went out here without the case in mind.” He said sounding very impressed. She looked very smug.

“I never forget a client.” She arrogantly bragged, Mr. Wilfred decided not to bring her down with the truth.

“You’re truly impressive, so what information do we have about the person?” he asked.

“C-come again?” Scarlet said; sounding and looking less smug.

“The person with the pendant, where did they go, how do they look or something like that.” He said.

“Well, that’s, um, debatable.” She said nervously.

“Scarlet.” He said and looked her in the eyes; she looked away and laughed in an attempt to sound confident but only resulted in sounding more nervous and suspicious. “Scarlet.” He repeated in a serious and slightly accusatory. “You forgot to ask, didn’t you?”

“That’s debatabl- yes, I forgot.” She admitted and looked down in shame.

“I called you amazing too early, didn’t I.” he sighed to himself.

“Wait, don’t take your praise back, as a matter of fact; keep praising me.” She suggested.

“For what exactly, what praiseworthy how you done?” he dryly asked. She pouted and used one too many moments to think it over.

“Helping you out.” she weakly said.

“I’m paying you.”

“When did you get so bold, aren’t you supposed to be a boring, old man?” she asked and sulked. This obviously insulted Mr. Wilfred who thought it more logic for him to be the one sulking after that comment, an opinion he gladly shared with her.

This exchange went on for quite a bit, so in an attempt of not boring you, I will skip over the rest of the conversation and tell that it ended with Mr. Wilfred and Scarlet buying lunch and agreeing never to talk about the polka-stripped penguins, which the conversation had ended with.

Unknown to both of them, was the fact that a man waited for Scarlet in her apartment.

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