“W-What’s going on? Where am I?”
 
          Eda began to move violently in an attempt to free himself from the St. Andrew’s Cross. The figure in the red cloak just stood there silently. It was almost as if it was just a statue. Eda eventually became tired and stopped his futile attempt to get free. Breathing heavily, he turned his attention back to the figure.
 
          “Answer me, damn it!”
 
          Still no answer. The only sound that could be heard was Eda’s heavy breathing, but he wouldn’t be dissuaded.
 
          “What? Are you mute? Or are you just a coward?” he continued. “You think you’ll get away with this? I’m a police officer! My coworkers… my friends… they’ll be breathing down your neck in no time! We’ll lock you—”
 
          Eda stopped mid-sentence as the figure in the red cloak began to move slowly toward him. Despite his attempts to do so, he wasn’t able to get a clear look at the person’s face underneath the hood, even as they walked right past him. His anxiety climbed now that he was no longer able to see the person that had gone behind him. In an effort to understand what happened he began to quickly recall his memories.
          He remembered going home after a day of work just like any other day. Nothing was unusual until he heard the doorbell ring. He went to answer it and then…? Who was at the door? He didn’t remember. Or rather, he couldn’t remember. He never saw anyone. All he could remember was being engulfed in darkness. He remembered struggling momentarily before being hit by something and being covered in another layer of darkness, this time of the unconscious variety. When he came to, he was here…
 
          “Damn it…” he whispered.
 
          How could he, a police officer, let himself be caught so off guard? And what the hell was going on? Where was he? Why had he been brought here? As more and more questions came to him, he started to feel more and more helpless. Realizing that, Eda pushed all of those questions to the side and focused on one thing… escaping.
          Around the time he resolved to get out of his predicament, the figure in the red cloak came back into his view from behind him. However, it was now holding a large sledgehammer.
 
          “Let me go,” Eda said firmly. “You don’t want to make things any worse for yourself. Let me go and turn yourself in. It’ll all go a lot easier for you that way.”
 
          Eda watched for a reaction from the figure as he talked but saw none. Instead, the figure took a few steps toward him and held the sledgehammer out, putting the head gently against the side of his left knee.
 
          “If you want to get out of this as painlessly as possible, you have to talk to me. What do you want? There’s only so much I can do if I don’t understand your goal. Depending on what you want, maybe we can work something out,” continued Eda. “Is this some kind of ransom situation? I don’t really make a lot of money so there wouldn’t be much—”
 
          Eda stopped speaking when the figure began moving again. Not because it was moving, but because of what it was doing. He watched as the figure slowly pulled the sledgehammer away from his knee and brought it back up to it again over and over. It almost looked like the figure was lining him up. This made warning bells go off in Eda’s head.
 
          “Wait, what are you—”
 
          Before he could finish, the figure greatly raised the sledgehammer and swung it with force. It collided perfectly with Eda’s knee, making it buckle in a way a knee isn’t meant to buckle and even separating his upper and lower leg. Bone tore through skin and made itself visible to the outside world as Eda yelled in agony from the incredible amount of pain. He dropped his head and grimaced between heavy breaths as the figure in the red cloak walked to his right side and set the sledgehammer up again, this time on the inner part of his right knee. The figure casually began to line up that knee just as it had done the previous one.
 
          “S-Stop!”
 
          Seeing what was occurring, Eda desperately tried to break free of his restraints again, but accidentally moved his left leg sending a new surge of pain through his body that caused him to yell. The figure, seeming to have sufficiently lined up Eda’s right knee, swung the sledgehammer again, sending it directly into it. Just like the left, the right knee buckled horribly and a bone was sent piercing through his skin, giving Eda terrible pain in the process.
 
          “Fuuuuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuck!”
 
          Eda gritted his teeth after repeated obscenities. His eyes scoured his surroundings without him instructing them to. It was like his body was trying to find a way out of this desperate situation on its own. Nothing he saw was of any help though, and by the time he regained control of his wandering eyes, the figure in the red cloak had put away the sledgehammer, but was now holding something even more sinister.
 
          A gas can?!
 
          Eda saw the unmistakeable object in the figure’s hand and threw all the strength he could into his arms. Pulling with all his might, the rope binding his wrists cut into his skin as he tried to break free. He exhausted his strength eventually and was no closer to freeing himself. He could only watch in horror as the figure in red began to pour gasoline on his arms.
 
          “So this is the kind of bastard you are? Someone that tortures a defenseless person? Someone that has to catch a person off guard at their home? Someone that has to wear a hood because they’re a fucking cow—”
 
          Eda’s provocation was cut off when the figure splashed gasoline into his face. He sputtered as he tried to get the gas that flew into his mouth out. The figure walked away from him and over to a burning candle which it grabbed after putting down the gas can. It then turned back to its captive.
 
          “You’re going to pay for this…” said Eda. “You’ll regret this day… just remember that…”
 
          Despite the severity of his words, his voice had the tone of someone who had given up. The figure in the red cloak walked slowly over to him and held the candle up to his face.
 
          So this is how it’s going to end? With me just being another victim of a crazed murderer? Damn it! I couldn’t even get anything out of them! If only I could get a look at their face, hear their voice… anything! If I could just do that, I could try and leave a clue! Something to make my death have purpose!
 
          Eda looked firmly at the hooded person before him.
 
          “Do your worst, coward. You won’t break me. I won’t give you the satisfaction!”
 
          As if that was its signal, the figure raised the candle up to Eda’s left arm and used its flame to set it alight. The pain was excruciating as the flame gradually spread over Eda’s entire arm, but he didn’t scream. Grinding his teeth together with his eyes opened wide, he endured the pain. The figure raised the candle to Eda’s right arm and set it alight as well. Eda’s face grew more tense and his eyes began to water, but he still didn’t scream. A sickening aroma began to slowly fill the surrounding area.
          Eda’s captor walked away as he watched with blurry eyes. The heat radiating from his arms was like nothing he had ever felt before, and that wasn’t even considering the outlandish pain he was going through because of it. At some point he began to feel the right side of his neck get hot and even that side of his face as the pain that was driving him to the brink spread to those places as well.
 
          I can’t believe I’m really being burned alive!
 
          His body continued to burn as his captor watched him. He still hadn’t made a sound since being lit on fire, but he was cursing over and over in his mind. He would do anything for someone to walk in and save him right now, but he knew that was unlikely. For some reason he thought of Hiura and Nia, and that’s when something dawned on him for the first time.
 
          No… is this related to the case?!
 
          Was this the same person that killed Akio Kido? It couldn’t be, could it? Why would that person target him? How would they even know who he was to begin with? If they knew who he was, did that mean they also knew about the others? He wished he could see his captor’s face more than ever, and his increased adrenaline from this new line of thought made his heart beat faster. That’s when he noticed it was getting harder for him to breathe. The fire had burned so far into his neck that it was beginning to destroy his airway.
          Eda began to cough, making the first sounds he had made since being put ablaze. Tears began to flow out of his eyes, some of it hitting the flame burning his right cheek. Thinking he would probably die any moment now, Eda looked at his surroundings. His eyes fell on what was likely to soon be his killer, and he had no time to register what he was seeing before being hit with a cloud of gas.
          Sent into an immediate daze, Eda almost passed out on the spot. He would have gladly welcomed the cold gas that was hitting him if it wasn’t for the fact that it just seemed to be making things worse. His already struggling breathing became almost nonexistent when he was hit in the face and he had to tightly close his eyes to keep from getting something unwelcome in them. As he was being hit with the gas his wrist restraints that were practically burnt through by the fire were snapped and his arms painfully fell to his sides in a limp state. Although he was finally free, there was no way he would be able to use his burned limbs. The pain alone was practically paralyzing him.
          Finally the cold gas hitting him seemed to stop and he slowly opened his eyes. His vision swaying madly, he had trouble focusing, but he could make out the fire extinguisher in the figure’s hands. It made sense, or it would have if he could still form coherent thoughts. Apparently his captor had used it to extinguish the fire that was threatening to kill him. It made little difference to Eda though. He was still in constant pain from his legs and burnt body parts.
          He watched with swaying vision as the figure put down the extinguisher and walked away into the darkness. He didn’t even consider the idea that they may have left because he couldn’t bring himself to consider anything at all. He felt like he was barely getting any oxygen with each breath. He hardly noticed the figure’s return, but he did manage to hone in on the familiar thing in its hand. The sudden dread he felt seemed to focus his remaining reason.
 
          Is that what I think it is…?
 
          Maybe he was just imagining it, but the object seemed to gleam even in this small amount of light. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was though since he had taken good care of it since he got it. As the figure in the red cloak stopped in front of him and raised the object slowly, he took a deep breath and used his remaining willpower to pull himself together as much as possible. His swaying vision became a bit more steady and looked down the barrel of the object pointed at him.
 
          With my own gun, huh?
 
          He had almost forgotten he had it on him when he was attacked. And now it was being pointed at him by his captor.
 
          What a weird twist of fate…
 
          As things stood, he was barely holding on to life. And considering the constant pain he was in, he welcomed the sight before him… almost.
 
          I still can’t see their face!
 
          Eda stared at the hooded figure. Just one glimpse. One tiny glimpse. That’s all he kept hoping for as the gun slowly approached his face. The figure in the red cloak pressed the muzzle of the gun against Eda’s forehead, but he only knitted his eyebrows into an angry expression. He expected a bullet to be going through his skull any second, but the figure pulled the gun away from his forehead, and then…
 
          A smile?
 
          Eda was able to see his captor’s face from the mouth down suddenly. Their lips were twisted into a clear smile. The figure’s free hand went up to its hood and, to Eda’s shock, removed it. Eda and his captor stared at each other for a split second before the person pulled the trigger.