Officer John Taylor was at the Holt house investigating the disappearance of Marcellus Holt. Currently, he was talking to Joanne Holt, Marcellus’ mother.

“Mrs. Holt when was the last time you saw your son?” inquired Officer Taylor.

“Monday when I dropped him off at School,” she replied between tears.

John was confused by this as the school had informed him that Marcellus hadn’t been to school since Friday. “You’re sure you dropped him off at school?” he asked “Because the school claims he wasn’t there.”

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Holt, “I watched him go in.”

Marcellus woke up with a splitting headache, unsure of where or who exactly he was. He stood up, grimacing as he did so, and looked around. He was on what appeared to be the roof of a store. After stumbling around for a few minutes he found a ladder. Starring at the ladder he contemplated whether he should climb down or not. “Who knows, maybe there’ll be someone who knows me down there,” he thought before fumbling onto the ladder.

Upon reaching the ground he found a knife with his name carved into the handle. Picking it up, Marcellus found it fit his hand perfectly. Almost as if it was made custom for him. Clipping it to his belt, and pulling his jacket over it, Marcellus started walking toward the store’s entrance. As he approached the door, he felt a slight tingle in his head and arms. Marcellus began to panic when he realized he had pulled out the knife he found and was standing behind a man. He watched helplessly as his right arm plunged the knife into the man's neck, and his left wrapped around his mouth. In shock Marcellus released the man, who fell to the ground with a handgun clattering next to him. Glancing at his hand he noticed that his arms both held the image of a strange creature, his right arm had a black one and the one on his left arm was gold. After a few seconds the drawings on his arms started to fade as well as the tingling. Marcellus returned his gaze to the dead man at his feet, and realized what he did. Fear clutched his chest as he dashed out of the store. 

John strode through the door of the local Culinary Haven, the store Manager was fidgeting off to the right side. he stiffened a little when his gaze shifted to John, "Oh, good. This way sir." John let out a quite grunt as he turned to follow the man. They walked past shelves of various vegetables, until they were just out of view of the front counter. Turning to look at John while pointing with his left hand, "There. I saw a kid run out, with a scared look on his face. And when I went to see what had spooked him, I found this guy." Looking in the direction the Manager was pointing. John discovered a man laying face down in a pool of blood. Resting a few inches from his right hand was a small handgun.

Walking over to the body, John deduced that the man had been shot with the gun. The attacker then ran off leaving the gun behind. He pondered why the kid would leave his weapon as he slid his hand into a glove, and knelt to pickup the firearm. Knowing it was still dangerous so long as there might be around in it, he removed the magazine and pulled the slide as far back as it would go. He paused when a cartridge didn't come out, glancing into the chamber he was confused to find it empty. "You got a camera around here," he inquired while sliding the magazine into his chest pocket. 

"Uh, yeah. In the back come on." John noticed that the man who had been quite nervous earlier now seemed somewhat disinterested in what was happening. Probably because John was there. People usually stopped caring about things like this once someone arrives to take care of it.

As he stood to follow the man John noticed a hole in the body's neck. The shape of which would indicate that he was stabbed.