Calab looked around the police station, his mind racing back to last night again. He typed at his desk for a while lost in thought. Every so often he would stop typing and feel the paper sitting in his pocket. A horribly ominous letter. One that he couldn't bear to open again. Last night... learning who is ghost was... it was already too much. How was he supposed to accept that the dead girl who they found the other night- the miserable spirit who had killed herself- was haunting him? What for? He looked around again, scanning his surroundings. No! He couldn't. He knew what would happen. When was the first time he had felt that the force had betrayed him? It felt like ages ago.
The rape case back then. A girl went to a party, was drugged, and ended up getting raped. She couldn't prove herself, couldn't do anything but plead with him. Her eyes expecting something more. He had looked into the boys. They had no past records, but upon talking to the girls at the school-- and some of the guys-- they had a reputation. They had harmed no small number of girls with their actions. Some were no longer alive to tell the tale. Some were so worn out from their struggle for justice that they spoke in monotone the entire time. Their eyes were what killed him. Eyes that told him that they expected nothing from him. He would do nothing. He would change nothing. He was wasting his time as much as he was wasting theirs.
They were right. His case was shut down before it actually started. The parents were powerful. That wasn't what hurt. It was watching the light of hope fade from that girl's eyes, replaced by that dull acceptance that nothing would be done. She was a victim not even in name. She would never be considered a victim. She took her life three weeks later.
Was this Elle one of those girls? Has she been wronged and took her life because of it? It was likely. Very likely. He sighed and petted the piece of paper again. The paper. That paper. The damned lined, everyday notebook paper. The average paper befitting an average girl who became a spirit. A paper with a list of names. When he lashed out at her, what had she been thinking?
Calab got home that night to silence. A cold apartment that lacked that home quality. He spoke to air. Trying to brush aside the guilt. He got home a second night, with no greeting, no note. Nothing but silence. By the fifth night, he knew he deserved it. This lonesome silence. By the tenth, he knew he was being stubborn. By the eleventh, he wondered if she was cooking for some other lonely, fed up officer. By the third week, he could only lay on his bed, holding that piece of paper between his fingers above his head and stare at it. That night he logged onto his account, and began to search.
"Monica Fredriks. Died April 13th, 2014. Gun shot wound to the side of the head. Signs of glass and wood shavings on the body." he narrowed his eyes. "Laura Jenkings. Died May 14th. Fell from a high place. Glass and wood shavings. Paul Shin. Died June 15th. Glass..." Every. Single. Name! on this list had glass shards in their body and wood shavings! They died almost within a month of each other! It had been about two months since Ellenor Swanson's death. So, no case, right? Right? A piece of paper fluttered down from above him. Kimberly Tawes. It stayed right before his eyes, until- with trembling fingers- he typed it in. Died two weeks ago. Signs of glass and sawdust.
Not a list of suicides... though they did certainly look like they were. A list of murder victims. This college town had a serial killer in it!
And so? What will you do, but die like a dog in pursuit of the truth? Of justice? Cang Mu watched himself with disgust. He knew exactly what was waiting for him at the end of this story. How long had it been since he had seen himself? What he looked like in his past life? He looked at the scenes of this life. That's right. He knew there was no such thing as justice! He had seen exactly what the strong and powerful did to those who were powerless. He lived in that hell for years.
The Jiang household was hell on earth for a bastard son. Especially one who's mother was a whore from the red light district. That place was a place where women's hopes went to die. These women didn't sell their bodies because they liked sex or because it made them money. These were women who had either been sold away, kidnapped, or lost their virtue and had been thrown away in the pavilions. With the customers they saw, were forced to serve, who could ever say they truly liked their job? Fat, rich pigs. Violent, entitled young masters. All sorts of monsters hiding in human clothing. Yet, for some reason, everyone disdainfully called his mother a whore. That she bewitched the head of the Jiang family. Ha! He paid for her to serve him! What choice did she have?
It no longer mattered! He finally escaped them. He rid himself of that name.
So, why be hung up on it?
Cang Mu spun around and saw Elle. She crouched down, poking the water reflections on the floor.
"Elle?"
"Yes, but not quite. I'm the unresolved side of Elle. And of her reincarnation. All the hatred, insecurities, and other ugly emotions. I'm that part that hasn't moved on, that hasn't been purified." She met him with a look, "And from the looks of things, I won't be purified for a good deal longer."
"Because I failed?" Cang Mu forced his gaze away. Elle stared at him and broke out into laughter.
"And so? My murderer is dead. You killed him and he killed you. You didn't fail per se, but you didn't bring me any closure either." she stopped laughing, and began poking the water again. "But does it matter? Cang Mu? Calab? Go on. Pick your poison."
"Either name." Cang Mu looked away. He heard Elle click her tongue.
"Both of you are pissing me off. Either name! Either name! So stupid. You guys have the chance to move forward, but both of you are so wrapped up in the past that you won't do anything! How much longer are you going to lament about your so-called powerlessness?"
"I did my best!"
"Yeah. Because a ghost of a girl who got brutally murdered came back to bug you! What did you need me for? To tell you that you needed to do you job?"
"You..." he sighed, "You're the one who made my job worthwhile again."
"Stop that."
"What?" He looked back at Elle. She trembled in rage.
"You always expect me to be something that you need. All of you. I have to save all of you. I have to comfort you. I have to be your oasis. I'm sick and tired of people pushing their responsibilities onto me." she glared at him, "I didn't do your job. I didn't chase down a serial killer! I didn't fight with the higher ups at my police station about justice! I didn't. You did. That wasn't me. That was you. What? Some poor ghost makes you feel needed and empowered? Gives you a boost? I may have asked for help, but you are the one who decided to help. That choice is yours to bear. You could have ignored me. Gone about your days feeling sorry for yourself."
Cang Mu looked away. When had he stopped making choice for himself? He had figured that his bosses determined the worth of justice. But...
Elle grinned.
"Ah. That's a look." she purred, "I rather like that look."
The world began to shatter. As it did, Elle pointed away.
"Go and find my reincarnation. He needs your help. That is, if you want to help him. Your. beloved. wife."