Author's note: Yes! Finally...this topic will stop nagging me. Ha ha ha...I really love mentally torturing smart people, which makes me love them even more.
Anyway...Merry Christmas! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!
Case No.?: To Silence a Thinker
"No! That was not me!"
It was you who killed Keelan Makepeace.
The heavens opened up that night. Vast amounts of rain fell to the earth below. But the cold doesn't bother him. Nothing ever bothers him except a good case to solve. Besides, he had a criminal to corner...like a tiger cornering a rabbit.
You shot Keelan Makepeace.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Some part of him knew that he was in a hospital. His body felt as if it was weighed down by IVs and tubes. Yet, his mind still lingered back to the distressing events of Forbodium Castle. He raised his trusty gun, and fired the first shot.
BAM!
The hard-to-find murderer of the controversial Jigsaw Puzzle Killings had just taken a hit at his right side.
When you wake up, you'll admit to your crimes immediately.
"Crimes?" a sinister voice spoke in his mind. "I have no pathetic crimes to face. I remember nothing."
"Not true," said another voice. It talked in a calming and thoughtful tone. "Admitting the truth is better than lying."
"Shut up! Who the bloody hell are you?"
"I?" said the calm voice. "I am me. Alfendi Layton."
"You're not him! I am the real Alfendi! GET OUT OF MY MIND OR DO I HAVE TO CRACK IT OPEN FOR YOU TO GET OUT?"
"You seem hot-blooded. Why would I allow some kind of psychopath to take over my body?"
"Psychopath? Don't make me laugh," the sinister voice mocked. "This is how I face criminal masterminds. I could literally smell their delicious fear as I thoroughly interrogate them...smashing their understandably weak alibis one by one. How about you? I bet you would become all lovey-covey and gentle during such quick and simple questionings—"
You will forget who you are. You will take the fall. You killed Keelan Makepeace.
"Agh! I did not murder that murderer!"
"No, I remember it clearly. I shot him...twice—"
"NO! NONONO! I DID NOT!"
Voices kept on multiplying...Doctor, he's waking up!
Oh is he? Call his father Professor Hershel Layton, nurse.
Justin, call Hilda.
The Commissioner is here!
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Just a few minutes now," said the calm voice, albeit quite terrified. "And I'll finally wake up to face my crime. Face the truth."
"But you did not do anything, you pathetic WIMP! Why would you hand yourself over if you could be free?! Agh!"
He's awaking!
You gunned Keelan Makepeace.
Just then, something inside Alfendi snapped, like a taut wire that had been pulled to the limit. "Ugh...no...not now..."
Light. Glorious light poured in as he opened his eyes, blinding his senses.
"Please..." said the rapidly-fading sinister voice. "I am...innocent."
"Alfendi!" Hilda shouted as she came running through the door. Alfendi's head lolled to the side, facing her.
Hilda Pertinax stared at her friend, taking all the details of his current condition. Eyes threatening to cry, she rushed to the broken inspector's side. Thumps behind her announced more arrivals.
"How is he?" asked a gentlemanly voice. She turned around to find herself face-to-face with Alfendi's father, the great Hershel Layton.
"He's coming to," she assured. Her sight drifted to Justin Lawson, then to Commisioner Barton, and finally, to Luke Triton.
"We came as soon as we can," Luke told her. "I knew he would wake up sooner. Nothing could really prevent a Layton from rising up once more."
Just then, Alfendi groaned next to her.
Gradually startled, Hilda held Al's hand. "Are you alright, Al? What do you remember?"
"Now, now," Justin interrupted, waving a beefy hand. "I think the man needs his rest."
Strange, Hilda thought. Al looks almost...placid.
It was true. The strong fire that was normally in Al's amber eyes was diminished. It seemed blank, which scared Hilda, because her friend was—is always full of life and purpose. And then, Al opened his mouth to speak.
For the next moments to come, Hilda expected a long lecture from her overly-sarcastic friend. Comments of 'I will cut off your tongue, foolish woman, if you ask one more time if I am alright!' or 'Can't I find any peace in this cursed room? I need to regain my energy soon, idiots..."
Ironically, any of those would be a reassurance that everything will be okay in the end.
But Al's response wasn't what she expected.
Not at all...
Not even the beautiful mind of Professor Layton could guess what his son would say:
"I killed Keelan Makepeace."
Justin Lawson breathed out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, no one noticed. Oh no...they were all busy fussing over little Alfendi. Asking him if his previous statement is untrue or if he is joking.
"It couldn't be," Luke said. "Al rarely jokes but...he couldn't also be..."
He stopped talking, but everyone knew what he was about to say: a murderer.
"I did it," Alfendi repeated, sweating. "I shot him first."
"No," his father, Hershel, disagreed. "What is happening to you? You...something seems off."
Justin froze. If he was discovered this early...
"Father," Alfendi whispered feverishly. "I am so sorry."
And that's what had done it. Alfendi Layton almost never apologizes...because he never truly was a killer at heart. Yet, Justin knew what they were all thinking: this isn't their Al.
Al was a great thinker, able to pinpoint the correct criminal, deduce what had happened in a few minutes and collect unlikely evidences, while laughing triumphantly...but also is a snide, sadistic master of cynicism. But the one in the bed...seemed weak and meek.
Not Al.
Suddenly, Alfendi's eyes drifted over to Justin. Justin stopped breathing. Even though those eyes were hazy and confused, he could see the smallest spark of recognition from his old, snide friend. The original Al is still alive, but tampered down by several months of lies...
Justin's lies.
And then, the spark was gone.
Justin melted into the shadows. The others would assume that he had become over-emotional of the recent happenings.
Sadly, they were wrong. Very wrong.
Alone at a balcony, he patted a brainwashing book in his coat pocket. It seemed so insignificant, and cheap, and wholly unreliable.
Nothing worth of attention.
But it will buy him time and freedom.
A trashy, schoolboy's guide to mind games.
Who would guess that it could silence a thinker?