Monday
Woken up to the sound of people jabbering in front of his door, William turns on his radio. It's a routine of his before taking the shower. Looking at the clock after a bath, striking seven, two hours early for the job, William takes the time to make breakfast. Smelling the beans from the grinder made him calm, as he believes that a good day starts with a good coffee on the balcony.
"Julia, 22 years old, was found dead, Saturday evening in an apartment, room 3701, with a stab wound and a missing arm. San Diego Police Department officers still can't determine a suspect despite the high security. The CCTV at that particular floor hasn't been repaired since struck by a storm. A knife was also found near the victim and the size matched with the wound, says officers. Further investigation has not been released," a broadcast from the radio that William has already known.
William put the salt and pepper bottle on the table, with his silverware placed next to a serving of last night's meat, he treats it like eat is breakfast. He really enjoys slicing it, little by little.
Knocking sound was heard after he ate his food, it came from the door. The clock, striking nine, he walks down the hall. The sound wouldn't stop for a second, and it feels odd, rushing. William peeks at the door, seeing two men with a badge dangling on their neck. After asking them, one man claims that they are officers, showing the badge through the hole. Confused, William deliberately opens his door, and as soon as it's open, the two men tackle him, pinching him to the floor while he struggles. They read him the Miranda rights, and he struggles, saying that he has done nothing. Of course, they don't care about what he did or didn't. William is dragged out of his room, room 3702. One thing that he regrets is the leftover meat in his fridge. The thigh, half of them, the knee joint, and some of the calf meat.
"Julia, 22 years old, was found dead, Saturday evening in an apartment, room 3701, with a stab wound and a missing arm. San Diego Police Department officers still can't determine a suspect despite the high security. The CCTV at that particular floor hasn't been repaired since struck by a storm. A knife was also found near the victim and the size matched with the wound, says officers. Further investigation has not been released," a broadcast from the radio that William has already known.
William put the salt and pepper bottle on the table, with his silverware placed next to a serving of last night's meat, he treats it like eat is breakfast. He really enjoys slicing it, little by little.
Knocking sound was heard after he ate his food, it came from the door. The clock, striking nine, he walks down the hall. The sound wouldn't stop for a second, and it feels odd, rushing. William peeks at the door, seeing two men with a badge dangling on their neck. After asking them, one man claims that they are officers, showing the badge through the hole. Confused, William deliberately opens his door, and as soon as it's open, the two men tackle him, pinching him to the floor while he struggles. They read him the Miranda rights, and he struggles, saying that he has done nothing. Of course, they don't care about what he did or didn't. William is dragged out of his room, room 3702. One thing that he regrets is the leftover meat in his fridge. The thigh, half of them, the knee joint, and some of the calf meat.
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