Cheque Mate

Edgar Allen Poe once said, “Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”
 

***
 

Location: Basement of Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency (SMPA).

Time: 23:41.

Kim Jong In leaned forward in his seat. Creases silhouetted his normally smooth forehead. A pair of spectacles sat on the bridge of his nose. His nose scrunched upon reading the latest report. His mouth contorted in disdain, and a pair of hands interlaced under his chin. His frown only deepened as the context of the report before him sunk in.

 

How long had it been since the closing of Wilde?

 

Far too long, in Jong In’s opinion. Things weren’t looking so good for the new unit. So far, according to news articles, they’d done nothing except squander taxpayers’ money and that was a lot of cheques.

 

It was true.

 

Jong In sighed and massaged his forehead with calloused fingers. The frown lines dissipated to reveal a masculine forehead. His eyelids were heavy from fatigue. He stood up from his desk and decided to stretch his legs.

 

Edgar Allen Poe once said, “Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”

 

This was also true.

 

Jong In could see nothing, but stacks of paper with too many words printed on them. They were all related to the investigation, and they irked him to no end. Hitherto, the special unit had done nothing except uncover what netizens already knew.

 

“Don’t trust anyone.” Jong In tasted the words on his tongue. They were the poison of his current existence. The shiny badge on his uniform was there for show. There were no achievements attached with his name.

 

He walked briskly through the ‘special’ room. The police station was busy like stores during sales. The Wilde case had everyone running amuck.  The aroma of coffee in the vicinity was enough to shoot an injection of caffeine faster than espresso ever could.

 

Jong In remained passive.

 

Terms like ‘blood letters,’ reached his ears. He knew it all too well.

 

Wilde Entertainment was a rather dull company that had seen its closure once its trainees’ started exhibiting hysteria. The trainees’ who Jong In had interviewed had said nothing, but an unquenchable fear haunted their wild eyes.

 

They threw tantrums and barred their teeth. Jong In disliked them because one of them had tried to take a chunk off his finger.

 

He was convinced it was fake until they’d begun to die off. It was as if the Grim Reaper was singing a tune that only they could understand. The queerest thing thereafter was that each trainee left behind a blood letter with the words, ‘Don’t trust anyone.’

 

Jong In ruffled his hair until it was left untidy. The case was too vague! Wilde had closed. People had been interviewed, and detained yet the killings weren’t stopping.

 

Why the note?

 

Jong In wanted to know what the hidden meaning behind it was. They had left behind a warning; a clue. A hint he couldn’t decipher.

 

He was plagued by it on a daily basis. It was taking over his dreams. It had become a part of his life.

 

He was becoming obsessed.

 

*

 

Location: Interrogation Facility – SPMA.

Time: 01:20.

 

Kim Jong In scrunched his nose out of habit. He faced a rather eccentric kid who had a stupid look on his face.

 

Already, Jong In knew he would be dealing with a wall. From his silly mop of sandy hair to his child-like face, Lee Chan Hee looked difficult to deal with. The latter sat slouched. Blank eyes blinked rapidly without justification. His mouth formed silent words, and when his large eyes met with Jong In’s he screamed and struggled against the handcuffs around his wrists.

 

The paroxysm invited a headache for Jong In. He decided to stay patient until the former trainee calmed down.

 

This was normal… sort of.

 

Jong In was well accustomed to seeing such spasms, as was the case with every former trainee. They were unrecognizable forms of what they used to be.

 

This one however…

 

“Lee Chan Hee, I suggest you drop the act,” Jong In declared in an authoritative voice fit for an officer. The said-voice only emitted when he was dealing with the likes of detainees.

 

Lee Chan Hee had just earned himself a position in Jong In’s I-don’t-like-you book. The boy was detestable!

 

“Call me Chunji,” the boy offered with a very normal-looking smile that contrasted his earlier outburst.

 

“By the way, when are the cuffs coming off?”

 

Jong In’s mouth narrowed, as did his eyes into slits before he regained himself.

 

“When you have finished cooperating,” came the curt reply.

 

Lee Chan Hee, or Chunji’s expression fell. He sensed dislike against him.

 

“Well then, what do you want to know? Why I’m not crazy? Well let me tell you something mister, I will go crazy if you people don’t leave me alone! Is it my fault those kids are going nuts? No, it’s not. So, take these handcuffs off. I want to go home.”

 

Jong In’s nostrils flared momentarily. The boy dared to talk down to him in a police-interrogating-a-runt setting! The officer knew this wouldn’t fare well. Whether they were witnesses or suspects, if they were unaccommodating the job was made highly laborious.

 

*

Location: Kim Jong In's Apartment.

Time: 03:05.

 

Kim Jong In lay in bed, and stared at the pale ceiling. He’d been right to think he’d get nothing out of Chunji. The cretin had spat in icy words of scorn. It was clear the boy didn’t know anything with regard to the investigation, but his position gave rise to suspicion. He could be the possible murderer…

 

Jong In however, didn’t think so. What killer was that obvious? Chunji was the only ex-trainee who was relatively sane. Why would he make himself stand out in the crowd? Then again, Chunji might want the police to think exactly that…

 

It was a conundrum indeed!

 

Why had he been selected for this task?

 

Another suspenseful mystery!

 

Despite his lack of credentials, he was known to be a man with a vision. He wanted to succeed in life, and become a someone.

 

This was probably a chance sent from the Heavens. If he passed this obstacle, he could do anything!

 

With compelling ideas in his mind, Jong In decided to aim for sleep, although insomnia was starting to become acquainted with him. He strived to try anyway. There was hardly much time left till he’d have to robotically carry himself to work.

 

*

Location: A barren setting.

Time: 14:59.

 

Jong In pressed his lips together until they turned white. His face drained of all color when his eyes saw things he would never un-see. His sight wasn’t the only unsettled sense. His nose was having a harsh time adjusting to the heavy scents of iron that weighed on his form, iron metal and iron blood. His nose was distinguishing them, and his sleep-deprived brain was categorizing.

 

A mangled body. Of course, Jong In expected to see one. It only made sense, that a twisted killer would try artistry on a poor unsuspecting pawn.

 

Wasn’t that what made them tyrannical?

 

However, even after watching every horror movie that existed, his mind-frame would never have been prepared for this.

 

It was repulsing.

 

If the officer hadn’t zombie-d his way through six alarms, and managed breakfast he would have thrown up. His gag reflex attempted to touch overdrive, but there was nothing in his system to heave.

 

Maybe he was lucky?

 

His colleagues had rushed as fast as their legs could carry them. They knew better than to taint the crime scene in vomit.

 

Jong In on the other hand just stared, frozen in place. His eyes wandered the maimed, disfigured carcass that no longer resembled a human. Hair matte in crusted blood, mouth slashed apart, missing teeth, a fractured nose, a burst eyeball, and a noose hanging the remains from a cracked neck not far from where he stood.

 

His lower lip quivered. He knew he shouldn’t look, out of respect more than anything. He shouldn’t have approached it. He shouldn’t have let his hand remove his gun, and he certainly shouldn’t have shot the rope that hung the body.

 

By freeing the corpse from its humiliating state, he’d ruined the most important piece of evidence.

 

He’d soiled his uniform, and probably traumatized a part of himself, by catching the corpse before it could come to a bone-crunching fall.

 

Carefully, he placed the dead teenager onto the ground. Something peeped through the torn, blooded clothing.

 

A parchment.

 

Jong In knew what it would say. He didn’t need to be a fortune-teller to know, “Don’t trust anyone!”

 

His heart felt as if someone has ripped it through his ribs, and crippled it in their fingers. He felt remorse for a person he’d never met. Welled tears tried to flow from his dry eyes. They prickled like bee stings.

 

He brought a rattling hand to his mouth, and cried silently hoping the soul could find peace in the after life. His bubble of virtue burst faster than anticipated.

 

His eyes widened like compact mirrors. A bilious, rusted, taste of metal clung to his taste buds like the devil to hell. He looked to his blood smeared hand, and then he could hold in no longer.

 

He vomited everything he carried in his stomach, escorted by bile from his liver.

 

*

Location: The basement – SMPA.

Time: 15:35.

 

“You absolute idiot!” Was how the Team Leader greeted Jong In. A flurry of expletives warped in saliva, and flying items from the Team Leader’s desk all made their way to clomp him. He persevered none-the-less.

 

Ethical in his approach, he was still in the wrong.

 

“You messed with the investigation site! Are you even sane? Who put this kid on our team?”

 

Jong In listened to it all, but hardly heeded any of it. He told himself he’d done right, even though he’d messed up. He’d saved a scarred soul from the harrowing forensics team.

 

He was a dark knight who thought outside the box. His superior would never understand that.

 

*

Location: Still in the basement of SMPA.

Time: 16:00.

 

There were no clues. Nothing. Jong In rejoiced quietly for himself. He really hadn’t tainted anything! There had been nothing on the corpse for him to dismantle.

 

What a relief! His job was safe.

 

On the darker side, the letter – which he hadn’t fiddled with too much – was the same as all its predecessors. Written in the blood of the victim, no one really knew if it was the victim who wrote, or the demon of death.

 

What made things unsettling was not the new detective that had just walked through the heavy wooden doors, or the fact that numbers from Jong In’s unit kept dropping, but rather the fact that the media wanted in on the situation.

 

Netizens’ were not the type to keep still. Everyone had their own version of horrific tales to exonerate the culprit, who the police couldn’t capture, while condemning him.

 

They were hypocrites, and as dangerous as rooks.

 

Jong In speculated to himself. For victims of a class to write ‘Don’t trust anyone’ meant they were pointing at an object, at the only thing they had in common – Wilde Entertainment.

 

That company was more suspicious than the new guy who’d just been introduced as, Do Kyung Soo.

 

That agency had upped, and left the world as if it had never existed. Its workers had vanished into thin air, some of them had committed suicide according to eye-witnesses.

 

There was nothing left of Wilde except the trainees’…

 

 

“Move, you’re sitting on my desk.”

 

Jong In broke out of his reverie and started into two deep pools. It was then, he recognized he would forever loathe the wide eyes of Do Kyung Soo.

 

“This is my desk.” Jong In countered, and folded his arms as if to prove a point.

 

“Not anymore,” Kyung Soo’s calm collected voice spoke up. He eyed Jong In in a very x-ray like manner that made Jong In feel as if he’d gotten onto the bad side of airport security.

 

The latter, despite his petite form, Jong In from his position leaving the officer to glare at the new adversary that had cropped from nowhere.

 

*

 

Jong In soon learnt the meaning of: not anymore. It was simple, and brusque. He’d been removed from his role in the makeshift division, and with the job loss, all hopes of acclaiming the position of a fine guard were dashed like fine dust.

 

Without it, he was willing to flush his pride down the toilet, and beg. This was his chance. His big chance! This was the very thing that would build his career; the very first Lego piece of his dream.

 

He wouldn’t let it go to waste!

 

And so he’d begged, and groveled like a dog that hadn’t been fed for days. He’d batted his eyelashes, and pouted, and even tried aegyo. 

 

In the end the Team Leader had been forced to give in, not because Jong In was the epitome of a solider, but rather because team members were resigning from the temporary unit, numbers were dropping, and hands were needed.

 

*

Location: Interrogation room – SMPA.

Time: 17:23.

 

Do Kyung Soo watched an official inquisition take place through a large glass window. The inquirer, Kim Jong In was reaching his wits end with Chunji.

 

Even with his list of credentials, Kyung Soo was glad he hadn’t been chosen to interview Chunji. The boy was a hazard, from his slight hysteria to his false threats, he was refusing on all accounts to cooperate.

 

Jong In massaged his temples. This kid was driving him nuts! He wanted nothing more but to clobber him, or at least give him a clip across the ear.

 

Did he not understand?

 

His fellow ex-teammates were being murdered!

 

“We were taught to compete against each other,” Chunji replied darkly. A glaze of cynicism clouded his eyes. His lips snarled as he recalled a memory, before he became his usual unhelpful self.

 

“What’s the point of that? For years, they teach us that we need to strive for success, and then they throw us into a group of people we were trying to outdistance? Isn’t that like, redundant?” Chunji his dry lips.

 

His unfocused eyes caught sight of Jong In’s stone face. Chunji didn’t like this officer. He abhorred him, in fact.

 

“It’s ironic,” Jong In spoke up. It was the same everywhere, in his opinion. From school to work, they were taught to succeed on their own, and when group work was involved they were meant to shine as a team. Life was a game of chess, each had a role, and if they didn’t like the role… Well then, that was where conflict arose.

 

“Did you kill them?”

 

The question rolled off the tip of Jong In’s tongue before he had the chance to censor it. Mentally, he berated himself for letting such a rookie mistake occur. Outwardly, he watched the sentence take effect.

 

Chunji grinned for a moment. A grin one would expect a snake give its prey, like a Cheshire cat to a mouse. It was nothing short of sinister.

 

“Maybe, I should have killed them?” He lips curled into nasty sneer, and he laughed eerily. His laughter echoed off the walls, and bounced across the room sending chills down the spines of everyone who heard it.

 

*

Location: Briefing room – SMPA. 

Time: 18:00.

 

“Detain him, and put him under surveillance,” Do Kyung Soo proclaimed. It seemed more like an order than a suggestions. It made Jong In wince.

 

“Why? He’s just a little off the bat. There’s no need to lock him up.”

 

“I will have to agree here. The kid’s mental health might be at risk if we lock him in a cell and stick cameras around him.” Kim Boa concurred.

 

Kyung Soo sighed and leaned back in his chair. His eyes darted from the scruffy-looking male officer to the antagonistic female.

 

“Are you guys dating?” He blurted with a smirk.

 

Boa rolled her eyes to make a statement. She examined Kyung Soo sitting at the far desk.  He wasn’t very tall to begin with, but he sat upright drawing his full height.

 

His unnaturally, alluring, wide eyes were b with bishop-like intelligence he had, yet to show. Coupled with a standard nose, pouting lips and waves of thick dark hair, he fit into Boa’s ideal type far more than Jong In could hope to do.

 

Mysterious was her type, and Do Kyung Soo had just paved his way into a chamber of her heart. The real question was, could he last in there? His statement had just vexed her.

 

“We can’t put the other kids under surveillance, so why not this one? He’s balanced enough. From the way he talks it looks like he hold grudges, and from what I’ve heard, this isn’t the first time he’s been brought in for questioning.”

 

“The other kids are already schizophrenic. Chunji is our only lead. What if doing that tips him off the edge too? We’ll be back to square one!”

“Is that what you’re afraid of? One measly kid’s metal balance? It’s not like I’m asking to subject him to torture. He’ll be in a room under the watch of police officers. Any suspicion you have of him will be cleared after that. There will be no need to drag him back, and froth from the station.

 

“This is actually good for him, and helpful to us. The killer strikes every fortnight, and has been adhering to that schedule as if its law. If we have Chunji detained, and a murder happens he will be cleared of all charges. What part of that doesn’t make sense?”

 

Jong In’s eyes grew to resemble golf balls.  He inhaled sharply as he recalled the corpse of the young teenager. “You’re waiting for a murder to happen?”

 

Kyung Soo slapped his palm against the desk when the officers before him paled.

 

“This is why you’re not solving anything. You’re not trying! You’re afraid that someone will die, but there’s nothing you can do to stop those deaths! You’ve been waltzing in circles because everything seems too unbelievable. You’re all a bunch of misfits. How did you ever get recruited?

 

“You’re all suspecting that kid, but have done nothing to investigate your claims because you’re afraid he’ll become hysterical, and you’ll lose the only person from Wilde who can form decent sentences.

 

“I’m not like you lot. I will get to the bottom of this case with or without your help. If you want to sulk, walk away from this inspection now! From now on I’ll be doing things my way.”

 

*

Location: Chunji’s soon-to-be cell.

Time: 18:30.

 

Kyung Soo’s harsh words left an impact on Jong In. He couldn’t help but appreciate the guy’s rude, brash words. He was right, and Jong In agreed with him. The perusal was going nowhere for that very reason.

 

Jong In spied Kyung Soo from the corner of his eyes. He’d imagined detectives did petty, meager work like spying on unfaithful spouses. And maybe they did? Who knew the nature of their job except them?

 

Kyung Soo stood with a clenched jaw. His eyes were ornaments on his physiognomy because he saw nothing except the calculations in his mind. Facts flashed in his head, realigning themselves to construct sense.

 

He conducted reasoning behind the notorious set of serial killings. Questions like who, what, why arose, and his mind. He paired them with as much rational as he could muster without assumptions. The deductions were as followed:

 

Wilde Entertainment; a new company that rose to compete in the world of entertainment. It fared not so well in both finances, and structure. It was overthrown after funds were embezzled. Embezzler was found murdered. Money disappeared, and murder remains uncaught. Result; inconclusive.
  After the company’s closure the trainees’ were sent home. Shortly afterwards they began to act strangely. With the exception of Lee Chan Hee, the victims all exhibited similar panic attacks to matching causes. All evidence pointed to the training system of Wilde. The workers of Wilde had magically diminished through a mix of suicides, and murders leaving no room for a conclusion. Result; indeterminate.
  Not long after, a string of murders began to occur. When asked to speak Lee Chan Hee refused, and acted in discord with the police. To illustrate his discomfort with the predicament he found himself in, he feigned mental instability on multiple occasions to avoid any real questioning on Wilde. Result; indefinite.
 

Kyung Soo groaned to himself as he observed the current situation. It was indeed headache inducing. He was not surprised to see officers wash their hands off this case. They were wise. This analysis was a conundrum in itself.

 

*

Location: Somewhere in SMPA.

Time: 23:00.

 

Kim Boa rubbed her eyelids in circular motions. After setting up the environment Chunji would be residing in, they’d proceeded to monitor him through camera. He was a boring fellow. The boy did nothing except sit in front of the computer and watch obscene movies with a sublimed smirk on his face, as if he knew she were there and was trying to put her off surveillance.

 

She decided a break for her eyes would do her good.  She redirected her vision to her co-workers, or what was left of them in the claustrophobic-tight room. The Team Leader was gruffly writing reports from his previous works, muttering unintelligently as he did. He was just as dull as the boy in the camera.

 

Contrary to the uncooperative Team Leader, Kyung Soo’s uninterested eyes didn’t waver for a second. They transfixed the screen, looking for any slip the boy would make. Boa thought him to be a scientist watching his experiment unfold.

 

Jong In was a little more humane in his approach. His cheeks would tint in hues of pink at the movie. His mouth was slightly ajar. His hands would reach out for his bottle of water, and he would gulp it down. His eyes met with Boa’s and he flustered by himself, gaping like a fish trying to explain himself until Boa turned her back to him. She was left wondering, what chromosome made men all the same?

 

*

Time: 01:23.

 

Jong In’s eyes grew tired. He nodded off more than once. He groaned quietly to himself and stared at his findings. He’d been constructing a character profile based on Chunji’s habits. So far, nothing suggested he was a killer.

 

Jong In rubbed his eyes. They clicked upon receiving the abuse but did not react painfully. He reckoned he’d made them puffier than they were. His insomniac streak was raising its head. He felt tired, yet no real sleep would visit him.

 

Back to the character profile, Jong In tried to discern it, but the only real conclusion he could reach was that Chunji was a little neurotic. Apparently, he’d been like that since day one. Reports from councilors suggested that Chunji’s personality was a little strange. He had momentary outbursts from time to time.

 

The strangest thing was that Jong In was beginning to think that Chunji’s everyday behavior had been adopted by the other trainees.’

 

Except they were far worse.

 

Jong In held his crown. There was too much going on in his head. He was no psychologist. The psychology training he’d received during police school was not sufficient enough to un-riddle this puzzle.

 

He decided to scribble down his thoughts in case they ever came in handy. He needed a break from all this. His mind felt as if it would implode with irrelevant queries, and suggestions.

 

He was unable to move any piece other than a pawn.

 

The game was stuffy.

 

-

Time: 03:01.

 

Only Do Kyung Soo remained passive. It was a quality he’d adorned since birth. Sitting with crossed legs, he tapped a forefinger on his chin. His eyes gathered information for his brain to solve.

 

Kyung Soo exhaled slowly as he watched the retched boy. He was eccentric but not enough to commit a crime, is that what he wanted Kyung Soo, and the police force to think?

 

Who else would target former Wilde trainees?’ They needed to hold some kind of grudge. Chunji was one who had trained the longest with Wilde Entertainment.

 

Wilde had been preparing to debut a group, and that was where everything began to fall apart.

 

Psychopaths didn’t need to hold grudges because they were unstable. What Kyung Soo wanted to know was, what was Chunji thinking?

 

Kyung Soo had formed a baseless impression of Chunji. All he needed was evidence, and that evidence would come through questioning. There was really no other alternative. No wonder the police were having trouble dealing with him.

 

Kyung Soo cracked his neck muscles. His ‘teammates’ were all asleep. He rolled his eyes at them. Whoever had scouted them needed to be fired first. And people wondered why the police was so bad at their job…

 

The detective smirked. He stretched his arms overhead, and emitted a yawn. He was not one to be so lax under an investigation. He was always serious when he undertook a task. Whatever the goal, he would reach it without fail. Some would call him heartless, but that was life for a bishop in a chess game.

 

Through the monitor it seemed Chunji had realized it was time for bed too. The former trainee threw back his blanket, and plopped belly-first onto the bed. Not bothered to adjust his position, he lay like a caterpillar. Kyung Soo reached for his bottle of water only to discover it empty.

 

There were very few things in life that made Kyung Soo’s eyebrows twitch and no water was one of them. He grumbled to himself, and glared at the bottle as if it were to refill itself under his gaze, and when that didn’t work he slammed his hands onto his desk, and dragged himself over to a sleeping officer.

 

Kim Jong In didn’t appreciate the rude wakeup call that came in the form of a box across the head, and by a bottle no less. He groaned and swatting his hand in protest, his eyes still glued from sleep, he didn’t want to be bothered.

 

“Yah! Wake up you moron.”

 

Jong In was tempted to steal the plastic bottle and scrunch it under his feet. With much difficulty he forced an eye open. A blurred image slowly made its way to form Kyung Soo’s outline.

 

The officer yawned loudly to emphasize his tired state before sitting up like a zombie. He was still half asleep, but mustered a grunt of acknowledgement.

 

“I need you to keep watch while I go refill this.” Kyung Soo punctuated his sentence with a wave of his bottle. The detective wanted for the officer to register his command, and finally smirked when Jong In nodded.

 

*

Time: 04:00.

 

An alarm had gone off in the police building. Its screech snatched sleep from the weary officers. Clamorous commotion clustered the air before a torch flickered.

 

With the exception of the torches path, the basement was saturated by darkness. Having their sense of sight ungratefully robbed from them induced a sense of unease and discomfort.

 

The lock to Chunji’s room had been dismantled by unscrupulous means. A fire extinguisher lay not-too-far from the break.

 

Jong In had trouble registering this. He’d only knocked into an unpleasant dream, for what seemed to be less than ten minutes.

 

 Chunji was not in his room!

 

The officers strained their ears. Each footstep made them jittery. The torch beam flew across the vicinity temporarily blinding the eyes that were desperate to adjust to the darkness. Their senses heightened considerably.

 

Jong In thought he could hear the others breathe. He wished he’d paid more attention to Chunji’s diaphragm. If only he’d memorized the movement, he wouldn’t be so jumpy.

 

His heart had occupied his throat, restricting his breathing, he felt as if Chunji were somewhere behind him holding a butchers knife with a creepy smile plastered to his face.  If Chunji held grudges against anyone in the room it would be Jong In who’d interrogated him, and on more than one occasion had been rude to him.

 

If the thought of having to deal with a possible criminal wasn’t bad enough for the officers, the phone began to ring. Jong In jumped at the cry. His head swerved towards where the phone was normally kept. Slowly, his heartbeat began to increase. He recalled all the horror movies he’d once rolled his eyes at. He was living in it now. His eyes met with Boa’s. For the slightest second, he felt comfort.

 

He wasn’t alone, at least.

 

The duo stared at the phone. Neither of them wanted to pick it up. It seemed to illustrate doom in the most uncanny way. Goosebumps rose on Jong In’s skin. They made him shiver in the most unmanly manner. He didn’t care.

 

What was ‘manly’ in the face of death?

 

Boa veered her torch around the small room. Of all places to make a makeshift office, it just had to be the basement! She could feel her skin crawl. The demon of fear was lurking at her shoulders whispering things into her ear, making her apprehensive without reason.

 

A slicing scream scraped the