CRIME BOOK 101

a Package

Shortly thereafter, at the front main entrance of the high-level prison, Dakota and Thomas were accompanied by Warden, Carlos, who guided them through the gates.

"How did he end up in isolation? What did he do?" Thomas asked. 

The guard, Carlos, whose rank was a few levels below the chief, replied, "He challenged one of the lifers. They could have easily taken him out, but this guy is insane; he didn't hesitate to poke one of them in the eyes with a plastic fork. The man was two sizes on him. If no one stopped him, he might have killed that guy without blinking."

Thomas smirked. "Crazy man like that, yet someone still has the nerve to challenge him.

"Well, after this, no one will ever gets near him," Carlos grinned.

Once outside the prison gates, Thomas and Dakota headed towards the parking area. Thomas paused for a moment in front of the car, staring at Dakota's face for a long time. He furrowed his brow, noticing how calm the young man was, even though he already knew Dakota's true nature—he hardly showed any excessive emotions, even when that heinous murderer was staring at him without blinking.

"Hemmh."

Dakota opened the door and got in. 

"Do you have something to say, Tom?" Dakota asked, feeling uncomfortable under Thomas's prolonged gaze as the man slid into the driver's seat.

"How can you be so sure he’ll call you back?" ask the man.

Thomas remembered, just before they left the room, Erick had called out Dakota's name and offered his help, even though Dakota hadn’t said a word.

Dakota looked out the window; the prison area, with its high security, was quite far from civilization. They had to travel a long distance from the city to get there, and there were no buildings or structures around—definitely a fitting place to hold someone extremely dangerous to society.

"He's narcissistic," Dakota said, glancing at Thomas, his gaze intense. "A narcissist wouldn't allow himself to be defeated. Plus, he has an incredibly high sense of self-importance, believing everything he does is perfect. He wouldn't leave any room for anyone to insult him."

"That's why he got bored and turned himself in," he added.

Thomas smirked. "Turned himself in? He was caught trying to run away, actually..."

Dakota slowly closed the car door, fastened the seatbelt, and fell silent. Thomas wondered if he was wrong, if maybe Dakota was right. The young man, as usual, wasn't one to easily share his opinions. Thomas started the car, quickly maneuvering out of the parking lot.

***

A Narcissistic known to have very high confidence and self admirer, he adores himself more than anyone else in this world, that's why a very narcissistic person could be categorized as a psychopath in another form, he just starts to believe in himself, and believes there's no one in this world will beat him in anything.

~~~~ Dakota Sorrenson~~~~

***

In the deepest night, cold and silence of the giant metropolis fell to sleep.

"Help!!" A scream cut through the night's stillness, the deep darkness.

"Help!!"

Dozens of stories above the ground, on a skyscraper construction site where a long crane reached far into the night sky, a figure hung from the crane's end, dangling precariously, without a single garment covering her innocent body, naked.

The countless tears, the chill that pierced the bones, and a fierce wind that makes the woman's skin turned to blue.  Her wrists were bound tightly with thick, cold iron chains hooked to the crane. Her right leg dangled, attached to a rope with a plastic-wrapped object—resembling a cell phone—containing a clear liquid.

"H-help," she stammered, her body wet and smelling faintly of gasoline. She shivered, close to losing her voice, her tears all cried out.

How she got there, she didn't know.  She'd woken up already hanging. Her last memory was having fun with friends at a karaoke club.

No matter how loudly she screamed, there was no way anyone could hear her. The horror was unimaginable—was this just a nightmare? But everything felt so painfully real.  

"Help, huks huuu, he-lp..."  

Suddenly, the phone inside the liquid-filled plastic vibrated; there was an incoming call from a name that appeared on the screen: 'my love.' In an instant, sparks flew, quickly growing larger and igniting the woman's body.  

"Ackkhhh!! Help!!"  

The flames spread rapidly, and in no time, the naked body became a blazing fireball, illuminating the pitch-black night. Her anguished screams echoed throughout the construction site.  

She thrashed, burning alive, until finally, the poor woman's body lay still.  

Someone stood behind the freight elevator, a figure in black who had been silently observing, even grinning at the scene without blinking, as if savoring it. The person, marked with a unique tattoo on the ankle, moved away slowly, vanish in the dark sites.

***

Bayward, the bustling metropolis, is home to the prestigious Carlson Wien University, a beacon of knowledge amidst the boundless growth of the capital city.

Fallen leaves flew away and some landed by the window.  Some little cute birds just flew with the wind, back and forth, up and down the tall tree branches. The green park of huge magnificent university. It lay as far as eyes can see, is about two hundreds hectares with the most famous leading faculty in the country there. The air had never been so fresh like in the Carlson's university area, as if it was another planet far from the bustling city.

The classroom was approaching midday; Dakota had just finished writing on the whiteboard at the front of the class that day.  It didn’t take long for him to wrapping up the session.  

He was still tidying up stack of the books while the classroom began to empty, when his assistant, Dina, approached.  

"Professor, there's a package waiting for you in your office," she said, the sweet second-year girl smiled brightly. It was no surprise that she became Dakota's assistant among the others, as everyone offered to help him, forming a special club just for Dakota.  

Dakota looked up and nod.  

"Thank you, Dina."  

Dakota might be a professor, but he wasn’t much older than his students. It was no secret that many of them saw him more as an idol than their professor.

Along the way to his office, everyone greeted him very friendly.

"Good afternoon, Professor!" they all chimed.

They all get used to the cold un-expression of the young professor who doesn't think it was so important to give his very best smile.

 ***

A fairly large package was placed on his desk, a brown cardboard box complete with a courier shipping receipt. But there was no sender's name; when Dakota glanced at the receipt, there was only a big note on the box saying 'must be opened immediately' along with a few handwritten sentences in red marker. 

Slowly, Dakota took a cutter from the drawer. He wasn't particularly curious about the items sent to him; it wasn't anything new. Many people had sent him things before, from takeout food, clothes, flowers, books, even dolls. Usually, he would ask his assistant to open them, but that day wasn’t busy, so he could do it himself. He tried to reduce these kinds of acts, but some people still miss the memo.

"Snip." 

The sound of the cutter slicing through the tape on the box. And as he opened it wide, Dakota froze in place; it wasn’t the usual stuff he often received. 

"Hmh."