Riley
It was only three in the morning and Riley was starting what would be the worst day of his life. His wife, Clarissa, had been murdered and he was being questioned. So for the past hour or so he had been sitting in a dusty, claustrophobic inducing room answering questions that went like this, “What’s your name?”
“Riley Wilcox,”
“How old are you?”
“35,”
“Did you murder your wife?”
“No,”
“Where were you at ten last night?”
“A club,”
“Do you have any health issues?”
“No.”
“Do you know who might have murdered your wife?”
This question made Riley think for a while until about ten minutes later he answered, “Elmer Brady, Johnny Cash, Craig Roberts, or Dan Smith,” the detective seemed suspicious with the answers, but told him that he could leave anyway. Riley was half way to his car before he realized he needed to book a hotel.
It was almost five in the morning when he got to the Royal Night hotel, the cheapest hotel he could find. When he got to his room he immediately realized why it was a two-star rating. The room was barely big enough for a one-person bed and a pull out couch, the bed had so many stains that they could have ranged from Kool-Aid, to sloppy joe sauce, to mustard, not to mention it was a yellow-brown color, and the couch had the cushions removed so you could see everything lost or stuffed down in the cushions. At first glance he saw three phones, a watch, a bottle of ketchup, and a dog leash. He was too scared to even look in the bathroom. The smells coming from there alone deterred him from being too curious. Looking around the room, he decided to sleep in front of the door, the only patch of unoccupied ground. It took about an hour of staring at the ceiling for him to fall asleep, the thought of his wife never leaving him.
When Riley got up the next morning he immediately woke up, checked out, and left to get some breakfast. When he arrived at Denny’s a few minutes later he was thankful it was empty. He was seated and waited in a matter of minutes. When his chosen food (pancakes) came he was so deep in thought that he didn’t even realize the pancakes were there until he looked down, and when he did he almost cried. The pancakes were golden brown, the syrup gleamed in the sunlight, and the whip cream reminded him of a bunny’s tail. When he stopped admiring the food and ate it the tears flooded from his eyes so fast he didn’t have time to stop them. It was the first nice thing he had seen in almost a day.
After he paid Riley almost ran to his car, invigorated with a new purpose. He was going after the one person he knew hated them enough to kill, the one person that didn’t care about the law or getting caught, he was going after his step-brother, Elmer. He wasn’t sure where to find him, but he knew they would eventually meet.
     Police
The detective conducting the interview was nervous the entire time. One reason was that Riley Wilcox was probably six-foot tall, long black hair, could probably bench press 550-600 pounds, and had cold, dark blue eyes. He was probably the most stunning, yet terrifying man he had ever seen. After he was done taking notes he went over to Detective Wilson’s office to give him the notes and brief him on the case. Detective Wilson was short, only about five foot, had cold dark eyes that you couldn’t really tell what color they were under his permeant scowl, and had a broken nose and no hair on his head. He was the best detective New York had ever seen and even the most feared criminals feared him more than death. After Wilson had gone over the notes he gave them back and left the building on his way to a new case.
Detective Wilson drove to the address given to him and found himself at a nice, fancy apartment complex. When he walked inside he knew two things already: The first thing he knew was that the murder had been gruesome, rookies had been vomiting and pros looked sick. The second the thing he knew was that someone had burned the victim’s flesh. He didn’t smell it, he had lost his sense of smell after his tenth broken nose, but he did see everyone wearing gas masks. When he got to the Wilcox’s room and walked in, he immediately understood why the newbies were vomiting. The victim was lying in the door way with three knives deep in her back and the skin on her legs completely peeled off so the muscle was showing, it kind of looked like raw beef combined with red noodles. When he turned her on her back he saw that her face had been on fire and extinguished. When he walked into the kitchen his eyes open to about ten times wider. There was blood everywhere: on the walls, on the microwave, on the fridge, and on the cabinets. The only weird thing was that it looked so good that it could have been painted on. Upon further exploration of the house a bucket and paintbrush were discovered with an odd red substance on them. After seeing the house, Detective Wilson came out a changed man with only one goal in mind: find the guy who did this.
     Riley
Riley started his search in the downtown area by the club he went to last night. He thought it was a good place to start since it was the last place he saw Elmer. First, he looked in the club, then in the alleys, and lastly a nearby hotel.
After three hours of no luck he headed back to his car. Right before he got there, he saw Elmer. His face wouldn’t have turned many heads in this part of town, but Riley knew and hated that face with a fiery passion. His face was filled with cuts, scars, bruises, only had sight in one eye, not that it mattered because you couldn’t ever see his other eye. Before he could think it over, he charged. He barreled toward Elmer not even thinking and just seconds before he got there, Elmer turned and walked into an alley way. Riley was getting ready to charge in after him when he realized that Elmer had seemingly vanished! Riley just stopped and stared into the dark alley way wondering where he could have possibly gone.
After about ten minutes he headed back to his car with only the feeling of defeat. After checking in at his new hotel, the Chester INN, he headed to his room to figure out a new game plan. He needed to avenge his wife, no matter what. Unfortunately, before he could even start to think he jumped on the comfy bed and fell right sleep.     
Riley awoke with a jolt. Well, at least he thought he did, but it didn’t take him long to figure out that it was only a dream. He looked around at the four walls surrounding him. They didn’t look real but he felt that they were and he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. When he looked down he wished he could scream. Below him was a little girl moaning, groaning, and crying for help. He started to float down to her which was funny cause he didn’t remember her being very far below him, but nonetheless he wanted to help her badly. When he got there he ran over to her, but instead of reaching out his hand, he started stabbing her with a knife he didn’t remember having. He kept stabbing until he was sure she was dead and then the knife disappeared. After he regained his mind, he freaked out. He bent down, still shaking, trying to make sure she was okay, but when he touched her she jumped up and grabbed his face and started chanting, “Elmer wants to play, Elmer wants to play!” Riley woke up in a puddle of sweat and was breathing heavily. He realized that sleep was not an option.
     Elmer Brady
Elmer watched Riley while he was going through his little dream concoction. He studied him and wondered how he was going to mess with his subject next. He had already thrown several ideas out the window such as, poison, more dreams, death to his brother. After several minutes of contemplation, he found an idea he liked. Still watching Riley, he smiled at his own brilliance, “My fun isn’t done yet old friend. My fun has just begun!”
     Police
  Detective Wilson woke up extra early the next day to get on the case. He made his way to the station to pick up the notes on the syringe, bucket, and paintbrush. After reading them, however, he wanted to break something. The only thing the notes confirmed was that the kitchen had literally been painted red. There was apparently no fingerprints or DNA. So Wilson was back to square one, but he still had hope that the interrogations he had today would shed some light on this case.
For the first interrogation he had to track down Craig Roberts, the owner of a popular pizza place. When he found him, at his pizza place, he walked in and said, “I am Detective Wilson with the NYPD and I need to ask you a few questions.” Craig, at first, seemed a little surprised to see the detective standing in front of him, but after a little while said, “Yeah, sure. Let’s go in the break room,” They walked to the back to the break room where Wilson began his questions. He started with, “Do know or have any relation with Clarissa Wilcox?”
“Yes,”
“Could you describe it for me?”
“Clarissa tried to shut down my place with a petition after she got food poisoning,”
“So you were angry at her?”
“Well, duh,”
“So would have killed her to keep your pizza joint open?”
“Are you accusing me of murder?”
“I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this case,”
“Get out!”
“I just have a few more questions,”
“I said GET OUT!”
Detective Wilson was out on the streets before he knew what had happened. He hoped he would have better luck with the rest of them. As usual he didn’t. Every time he mentioned motive everyone got angry and rushed him out. The only thing he had learned was that everyone seemed to have at least one reason to kill Clarissa. Well, all except for Elmer Brady. For some reason whenever he searched up Elmer in the database, his computer crashed. The only thing he could think of was that Elmer Brady was an elusive person who had a reason to hide from authorities. Wilson knew that people who hid from authorities were bad, bad people.
On his way back to the station, Detective Wilson had a sudden thought that almost scared him. After he regained his thoughts he thought he needed to at least try something different. When he got back to his station he found the closest detective and told him, “Find everything you can on Riley Wilcox.”
     Riley
All night all Riley could remember was the little girl’s dead looking face and rotten breath. When the morning came, he was thankful and went down to the included breakfast. He walked down to the eating area and got a waffle, some eggs and sausage, and milk. Once he headed back to the table he put his stuff at he sat down and tried to eat. He TRIED to eat, but couldn’t. Everyone in the room was staring at him because they had no doubt seen the news. It took him about an hour, but Riley eventually ate his food, checked out, and went to his car.
He didn’t know where his arms and brain were taking him until he saw the building. He saw it and his heart jumped out of his chest. For some reason his body wanted him to return to the dreaded building. The building of nightmares, the building that his wife was murdered in. He thought to himself that he should go inside. His body hated that idea and he almost pulled his steering wheel. He kept fighting with himself, until his mind told his body that they had drove all this way and that they should at least try and go in. Once at the building he was surprised to find officers at the building. He got out and said to an officer, “Can I go in, just to see my apartment?” The cop looked confused, realized who he was and said, “Riley Wilcox, someone wants you at the station. You’re coming with me,”
Riley was handcuffed and in the back of the police car before he knew what had happened. His mind plagued him with thoughts of who could be waiting at the station. Elmer, the FBI, or maybe even his wife. All of a sudden, without warning, he had a flashback. This one was kind of odd though. He was put back at his apartment the night his wife was murdered. He saw her chopping up potatoes and turn toward him. All of a sudden Riley thought she was going to stab him, so he lunged at her, knocking her to the floor. She dropped the knife and was on her back, Riley looked at the knife and at his wife. He raised the knife over his head and…
All of a sudden he was back in the car, at his final destination. He looked at the station through the window before he was yanked out of the car. Soon, he was being dragged toward the building that held some sort of surprise for him. Once he was about ten feet away from the door, he closed his eyes, he didn’t want to see the horror that would be in front of him. He heard the door open and thought he would stop, but he didn’t, they just kept walking until they reached probably a room because he heard the door open was thrust inside and head the door open. His mind raced with what could be inside with him when he heard, “My name is Detective Wilson, I need you to answer a few questions for we. And can you open your eyes, it’s kind of weird.”
    Police
Riley Wilcox looked different than Wilson expected. For one he was a lot taller and more muscular than he had anticipated and, when he finally opened his eyes, they were a lot bluer and startling than he had imagined. Once Wilson got over his physical features he started asking questions, “Can you explain something for me?”
“What is it?”
“Why can’t I find Elmer Brady in the database?”
“I don’t know,”
“It’s because he doesn’t exist,”
“Yes he does, I saw him yesterday!”
“No you didn’t,”
“Yes I did,”
“NO you didn’t and he didn’t murder your wife,”
“Yes he did!”
“No, he didn’t, he only exists in your mind,”
“Prove it,”
“You were diagnosed with schizophrenia twenty years ago and have been on medication ever since,”
Riley didn’t speak so Wilson continued, “Until you stopped three months ago, which is probably when Elmer started showing up I’m guessing,”
“Yeah, it is,”
“See Riley, Elmer is a figment of your imagination and you killed your wife and deep down you always knew it, your mind just refused to let you know it,”
     Riley
When Detective Wilson first accused him of murder, Riley wanted to kill him. He thought he knew that Elmer had done it, but the more the detective spoke, the more that came back to him. First, it was just him in college at the doctor’s office, crying while he explained everything, then it was his wife trying to tell him he needed his pills and him blowing her off, day after day, until, finally, she gave up. Lastly, it was the night of her murder. He remembered her screams, her outfit, and his tears on his cheeks as she slowly died in front of him. After about twenty minutes, he spoke, “I did it. I killed her,” slowly his sadness turned into tears and he started sobbing at what he had done. He wasn’t sure how he couldn’t have remembered something like murdering someone, but he didn’t. Through his blurry eyes he saw Detective Wilson standing up and pulling out his handcuffs.
     Elmer Brady
Elmer looked down at Riley through Riley’s eyes and started laughing. That fool had actually thought that he, Elmer Brady, had existed. Slowly, however, Elmer’s laughter stopped. He had suddenly realized that his fun was over, forever. He couldn’t let that happen. “Mark my words Riley Wilcox, I’m not done with you. Not for a long, long time,”