Hi readers,

Hopefully you're all enjoying this! I have decided to assign songs that I use to help inspire the writing. For this Chapter: Eyes on fire-Blue foundation

Review please!


I'm sure you have been wondering why I chose Jenny as your nanny. Since her background will be essential to this case, I will explain as best as I can. Jenny is the daughter of Kurt Davis. He was a childhood friend of mine, and I spent a lot of time around Jenny when she was a young child. She was a very quiet and awkward child, and was suspected of having a social disorder early on. When I suspected her father of committing the cannibalistic murders of the 90's (that we unfortunately were asked to keep from the public. You could access the files if you wanted), I observed their household, waiting for Kurt to act. As I observed the family, I noticed Jenny's strange behavior. I thought she might have known her father's crimes, but based on her diary readings, I found that she was just a strange girl. Her father fell into a deep emotional rut, probably because he was not getting his regular thrill and was laying low (I found out later that he had a pattern: one month of murdering, 12 months of rest. I put the pattern I witnessed together with the pattern that I noticed from his previous crimes). During this emotional rut, her mother tried very hard to compensate his lack of income as a writer, by working multiple jobs. Jenny would walk home alone, eat alone, and never invited any friends over. She would pick up her father's empty bottles and sit in his room until he woke up. She had a deep affection for him. When her mother was out and her father was not awake, she would drink some of his alcohol. This behavior got periodically worse, until she would pass out drunk nightly. Her parents never noticed. Then, one day her mother Karin decided to try to get the neighbor's daughter to become friends with her. She did not suspect her daughter's drinking, but noticed that she was lonely. The neighbor's daughter began coming over; her name was…Anna Collier. She was the final victim of Kurt Davis. After about 3 months of their friendship, during a sleep over, Jenny offered Anna some alcohol. She waited for Jenny to fall asleep before she entered the bathroom to puke. The lights in the home went off, and I assumed it was going to be a typical night in the Davis household. At about 3 o'clock in the morning, I saw the light in the basement go on. I found this unusual, and left my perch in the neighboring woods and closely observed through the window. Davis was not in the main part of the basement. Luckily, I had watched the family use the key under the plant pot on their front porch, so I snuck into the home. I checked all of the rooms; everyone but Kurt and Anna were in bed. I went into the basement and found another door, locked. I braced myself and unlocked the door as carefully and quietly as possible with a bobby pin. I barely opened the door and saw the crime in action; Anna's skinned, dissected body was on a woodshop table, and Kurt was preserving her vital organs in jars for the fridge that he kept hidden in a nook of the wall. He had her heart on a cooking pan. I noticed that he did not skin her pelvic region, and the fact that he was not wearing pants and had blood on his privates suggested that there was rape involved. I pulled my gun and pointed it at the back of his head. Kurt's body stiffened and he turned slowly. Horror filled his eyes and his jaw dropped. Before I could do anything, he convulsed in a heart attack. I covered his mouth so he couldn't scream, and he died. I did not file this report. There was something strange about the murder. It was very spontaneous, despite fitting the pattern, because it was done at his home. Most of the murders appeared to have been at the location of the body. The marks of pelvic skins was identical, however, so there was no doubt in my mind that it was the same man. I noticed that he injected her with some type of anesthesia, which made her death painless. He never did that before. This murder was different. I buried Anna's body in the woods, cleaned the crime scene and Kurt's body, carried him to his bed, and searched his room in the basement. He had several letters, all seemingly from one man in Boston. These letters are the link to this current case.

I hope this explanation is satisfactory,


Based on pure curiosity, I had several deductions and questions. Watari did not document the case due to a strange loyalty, and did not examine the house because he wanted to catch his friend in the act. That was the only way for him to actualize or believe that his friend was a murderer. Watari did a close examination on Jenny's character, but wanted me to use Jenny as a primary source for the murderer psyche rather than just a trustworthy nanny. Jenny did not recognize him because she was too young to remember his face or name when she originally encountered Watari. Jenny's alcoholism was not only related to her father's death, Anna's death, or her family problems. Something happened that made her revert to alcoholism for those unaccounted six months; I am even more certain of it now. I burned the letter, which I had already committed to memory, and began working on my case. I vowed to find all of the truths that Jenny kept inside: the truth about her father and the six months.

Jenny walked into my room shortly after my personal vow. She had taken a shower and was in pajamas, even though it was only the afternoon. She looked much better than earlier. The natural, light blush of her cheeks was no longer ruddy, and her eyes, despite looking sad and tired, had their vibrant clarity again. Her fluttering, black fringed eyelids revealed a violet-blue stare that penetrated me with a look of emotional exhaustion. Her chocolate brown hair was not straightened as it was in her Driver's license, and I liked it this way. The chocolate waves, falling neatly and softly past her shoulders, had the strangest way of making me want to tousle them. It was distracting and annoying to find her attractive, knowing that she found me disgusting. Maybe she should be hung over all the time.

"Do you want me to make you lunch?" Jenny asked, pressing her fingers to her temples.

It bothered me to see her distraught. I took her hand, ignoring the electric jolt to my core, and walked her to my bed. I pulled up a chair and had her lay on her back as I massaged both of her feet. I did not look at her face the whole time; I learned from the little time I've spent with her that she did not like me observing her…or maybe she didn't like my face. Based purely on the way she hesitated, I could tell that she had aversions to my attempts at relaxing her. After a moment, she finally relaxed at my touch. I was expecting her to pull away suddenly like last time. I took this opportunity to look up at her face. Her arms were rested gracefully above her head. Her hair was scattered prettily around her face, and her eyes stared sadly at the ceiling. Tears were welling in her eyes.

"Hideki," She whispered. "Why don't you ever tell me anything about yourself? Like the trip, your life…the convulsions that you supposedly have. Why am I really here? Why do I feel like I'm in something bad? How can you touch me, just randomly, like I'm some massaging experiment? Why do I let you do this?"

The sun began fading, and the darkness fell over us, pressing on us both with it's strange, fearful presence.

" do you want to know?" I said. My voice sounded strange in the dark.

"The truth."

I knew that telling her the "truth" was not an option; it would jeopardize the case. I had to fabricate more lies, and keep track of them too. If I could fool most of the world, I could fool her. Detectives have a monopoly over the truth; we can lie and withhold facts for the sake of justice. My desire to know her truth was not just because of curiosity. I now knew that any information she had was relevant to stopping a murderer. She was no longer a curious subject that I spent energy on casually trying to figure out. In a way, she was my permanent interrogation suspect.

I stopped massaging her feet. Why did she let me touch her? Why did I want to? There was a reasonable explanation; to assess my dominance, I encroach and establish myself over her. There is a sexual, psychological aspect to that, and even I was indoctrinated in the system of domination. She had fallen asleep. I considered lifting her bridal style and carrying to her room. I leaned in to lift her, and she made a soft noise through her parted lips. The smell of her hair reminded me of strawberries and vanilla. I decided that it wouldn't be a good idea.

I took my lap top into the other bedroom of the hotel, and I messaged Watari. 'W' appeared on my screen right away.

"When will the letters come?" I asked, sifting through some of the Boston Police files on the case.

"They are being transferred to you now. " W said.

I felt strange as I read through each letter. The messages were coming from a man, Tyler Goodman. I searched online and could not find any possible matches. The codes that they used were mostly easy to figure out. Anna was mentioned in the last correspondence, I think. Tyler encouraged the murder, for the "guys", and offered refuge in Dublin with some of them if things go wrong. A network of cannibals? What did this have to do with the murders? It was then that I found the last message.

"A new diet is needed."