u/Any_Anywhere_584

I worked as a police officer. I was told that someone named Jack Dather died after falling off the town bridge. A kid in the area saw it go down. His mother was the one who reported it. I was asked to talk to the kid to confirm if it was a suicide or an accident. I believe they said his name was Milo. I was bored of always being stuck giving out speeding tickets. I jumped at the opportunity to do something different.

When I arrived, the room was cold and empty. The only thing inside was an old desk, me, and Milo sitting on the other side. I slowly sat down and said, “My name is Jacob. I am here to ask you some questions.”

Milo didn’t seem to notice me. His face was completely empty, and any sense of emotion was hollow. He had short hair. He had emerald green eyes, but the lighting made them look grey. He was short. I was told he was twelve. His height made him look eight.

After a moment to clear my voice, I softly said, “Hey, they said your name is Milo. I am here to ask you some questions about what happened today at the bridge.” Milo turned to look at me. He was still completely expressionless. His eyes blinked very slowly. He stood completely still. He was nothing like what his colorful red and orange T-shirt would suggest. 

There was no way to tell if anything was going through his mind other than static. He was as silent as a dead mouse. He barely moved; he just stood there. He just looked off into nothing. After no response, I said, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble. I just want to ask you about what happened to Jack.”

He again said nothing in response, just his cold, lifeless face tilting towards me. I waved my hand toward him and slowly said, “Is everything alright, Milo? Are you okay? Do you not feel comfortable talking about what happened today?” 

He finally broke his silence and began to slowly nod at me. I nodded back. When I looked back, he didn't stop; he just kept doing it. It was slow, almost alien how lifelessly his body moved. After nearly a minute of him nodding back and forth, he said, “Okay, what do you want?” 

I softly said in response, “When and where did you see Jack?” For a few seconds, I saw his face finally have an expression. There was a sense of fear in his eyes. Milo then looked down toward the ground as he quietly said, “I was just playing a game and I saw Jack pass by.” 

I waved my hand at him and began once again, “Was the game near the town bridge? How close were you to the bridge when the accident happened.” He said in an even quieter voice, “Yes I was playing on the bridge. I was there. I saw it happen.”  

I looked at him solemnly and a frown slowly covered my face as I spoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is such a shame someone so young had to see something so horrific.” His hands started shaking the second I stopped speaking. His hands went from completely still to moving at ungodly speed in just a few seconds. His eyes were twitching. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. 

I reached into my pocket and quickly pulled out my phone and said, “This is going to be over soon. Your mom would not have let you do this if it wasn’t safe. Everything will go back to normal when I am done asking you questions. If you feel unsafe, I can call your parents.” 

“Don’t. I'm fine answering your questions, just don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to know,” he immediately said in return. I immediately said, “Your parents already know about our conversation. Your mom was the one who reported Jack's body.” Milo froze. He stopped blinking. It was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“You aren’t in trouble, I just really need some questions answered. Your mom contacted us about you. She said she wants us to talk to you about what happened today. Are you fine answering my questions? 

His face turned to anger when his mother was mentioned. He nodded in return as I finished speaking. His hands briefly turned into fists before returning to normal. He was clearly trying to hide his frustration. I was about to ask him about it but I stopped and just stuck to what I was supposed to talk about. 

“What was Jack doing when you saw him?” Milo responded instantly, this time he didn’t hide his anger, his eyes were burning with anger, “He was being a jerk.” I snapped back with, “How?” Milo didn’t wait another second before saying, “He tried to beat me up. He did that all the time when I was alone at the park.” 

His hands slowly moved into fists. He looked as if he was ready to punch someone before switching back to his empty state. I nodded at him as I said, “How long was that before he jumped? How long was he doing that kind of thing?” 

His expression was still empty but his voice was strangely happy, even excited as he spoke, “Years, he did that to me for years. He was about to do it again before he fell.” I looked back, concerned as I said, “What was the last thing Jack did before he jumped? Did something seem off to you?” 

Milo looked back as a smile slowly began to tear open his once expressionless face. He started shaking his legs under the table not nervously but joyfully. He then said in a clear calm voice, “He tried to punch me before he fell off.” 

My concern only grew as I slowly and nervously said, “Did he slip or jump off? Did Jack die after he tripped trying to punch you?” He looked back at me, his face went into an impression of his previous emotionally empty state. He then slowly said, “Can we move on to the next question? I don’t like this one. What else do you want to know?” His hands began to shake again. His legs were still shaking under the table but this time nervously. 

I slapped my hand on the table. As I pulled my hand back, I said, this time louder, “Did he slip or jump off the bridge?” Everything about the look on Milo's face changed as I waved my hand. He stared off at the wall like I was not there. His face somehow looked less lifeless than usual but still terrified. He looked scared.

I quickly said as I saw him start to stand up, ready to scream, “Sorry for raising my voice. I just really need to find out what happened to Jack. We need to confirm his cause of death. Can you please just answer my questions?” 

He slowly nervously said, “No, you don’t.” I stared at him with horror growing in my eyes as I said, “Why?” He didn’t flinch an inch as he spoke, “You don’t want to know. It's better if you never know,” he said. “What happened at the bridge?” I shouted. He said nothing in response other than an, ‘No.’ “I said, what happened at the bridge," I screamed.

Milo looked at me and spoke in a quiet horrified voice. “I didn’t mean for Emily to die. I just wanted her to stop.” A smile crossed his face when he said stop. I heard about Emily before she went missing a few months ago. I blankly said, “I asked about Jack, not Emily. What did you do?” 

Milo looked at me, his hands were violently shaking as he said, “She fell off too.” I immediately shouted, "You said you didn’t mean for Emily to die, how could she have fallen off if you said it was an accident on your part. Did you push them off?" 

Milo coldly said, “It was an accident on her part. It was all her.” I screamed out, “Did you really think I would believe that happened twice? Your story does not line up. You are telling me you saw two people fall off a bridge on two separate occasions. You didn't report it the first time, your mother reported it the second time after she saw him fall from across the park and it was not your fault despite claiming it was an accident.”

Milo said in return, “When I said ‘accident,’ I was talking about her; she accidentally tripped. They both died because of their mistakes. It was all them.” He slammed his hand on the desk when he said their mistakes. I didn’t argue in response. Instead, I looked off to the door as I said, “I'm leaving. I’m telling someone about this.”

Milo almost immediately ran in front of the door. He then coldly said, “You don’t want to tell anyone about our conversation.” I looked down at him. He looked angry, his small hands in fists, he had his mouth open ready to scream. I then told him, “Move.”

He didn't; instead, he just screamed. I screamed back at him, “This whole conversation is being recorded. Just calm down or—”

The door opened, and who walked through was one of my coworkers. He said, “They found another body below the bridge. We think it's Emily.” I said nothing. I just stared at Milo. Milo then said, “It was their mistake. They all had it coming. I did nothing wrong, I would do it all again if I could.” That was when I realized that Milo was not a normal kid; he was a cold-blooded killer.

I worked as a police officer. I was told that someone named Jack Dather died after falling off the town bridge. A kid in the area saw it go down. His mother was the one who reported it. I was asked to talk to the kid to confirm if it was a suicide or an accident. I believe they said his name was Milo. I was bored of always being stuck giving out speeding tickets. I jumped at the opportunity to do something different.

When I arrived, the room was cold and empty. The only thing inside was an old desk, me, and Milo sitting on the other side. I slowly sat down and said, “My name is Jacob. I am here to ask you some questions.”

Milo didn’t seem to notice me. His face was completely empty, and any sense of emotion was hollow. He had short hair. He had emerald green eyes, but the lighting made them look grey. He was short. I was told he was twelve. His height made him look eight.

After a moment to clear my voice, I softly said, “Hey, they said your name is Milo. I am here to ask you some questions about what happened today at the bridge.” Milo turned to look at me. He was still completely expressionless. His eyes blinked very slowly. He stood completely still. He was nothing like what his colorful red and orange T-shirt would suggest. 

There was no way to tell if anything was going through his mind other than static. He was as silent as a dead mouse. He barely moved; he just stood there. He just looked off into nothing. After no response, I said, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble. I just want to ask you about what happened to Jack.”

He again said nothing in response, just his cold, lifeless face tilting towards me. I waved my hand toward him and slowly said, “Is everything alright, Milo? Are you okay? Do you not feel comfortable talking about what happened today?” 

He finally broke his silence and began to slowly nod at me. I nodded back. When I looked back, he didn't stop; he just kept doing it. It was slow, almost alien how lifelessly his body moved. After nearly a minute of him nodding back and forth, he said, “Okay, what do you want?” 

I softly said in response, “When and where did you see Jack?” For a few seconds, I saw his face finally have an expression. There was a sense of fear in his eyes. Milo then looked down toward the ground as he quietly said, “I was just playing a game and I saw Jack pass by.” 

I waved my hand at him and began once again, “Was the game near the town bridge? How close were you to the bridge when the accident happened.” He said in an even quieter voice, “Yes I was playing on the bridge. I was there. I saw it happen.”  

I looked at him solemnly and a frown slowly covered my face as I spoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is such a shame someone so young had to see something so horrific.” His hands started shaking the second I stopped speaking. His hands went from completely still to moving at ungodly speed in just a few seconds. His eyes were twitching. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. 

I reached into my pocket and quickly pulled out my phone and said, “This is going to be over soon. Your mom would not have let you do this if it wasn’t safe. Everything will go back to normal when I am done asking you questions. If you feel unsafe, I can call your parents.” 

“Don’t. I'm fine answering your questions, just don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to know,” he immediately said in return. I immediately said, “Your parents already know about our conversation. Your mom was the one who reported Jack's body.” Milo froze. He stopped blinking. It was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“You aren’t in trouble, I just really need some questions answered. Your mom contacted us about you. She said she wants us to talk to you about what happened today. Are you fine answering my questions? 

His face turned to anger when his mother was mentioned. He nodded in return as I finished speaking. His hands briefly turned into fists before returning to normal. He was clearly trying to hide his frustration. I was about to ask him about it but I stopped and just stuck to what I was supposed to talk about. 

“What was Jack doing when you saw him?” Milo responded instantly, this time he didn’t hide his anger, his eyes were burning with anger, “He was being a jerk.” I snapped back with, “How?” Milo didn’t wait another second before saying, “He tried to beat me up. He did that all the time when I was alone at the park.” 

His hands slowly moved into fists. He looked as if he was ready to punch someone before switching back to his empty state. I nodded at him as I said, “How long was that before he jumped? How long was he doing that kind of thing?” 

His expression was still empty but his voice was strangely happy, even excited as he spoke, “Years, he did that to me for years. He was about to do it again before he fell.” I looked back, concerned as I said, “What was the last thing Jack did before he jumped? Did something seem off to you?” 

Milo looked back as a smile slowly began to tear open his once expressionless face. He started shaking his legs under the table not nervously but joyfully. He then said in a clear calm voice, “He tried to punch me before he fell off.” 

My concern only grew as I slowly and nervously said, “Did he slip or jump off? Did Jack die after he tripped trying to punch you?” He looked back at me, his face went into an impression of his previous emotionally empty state. He then slowly said, “Can we move on to the next question? I don’t like this one. What else do you want to know?” His hands began to shake again. His legs were still shaking under the table but this time nervously. 

I slapped my hand on the table. As I pulled my hand back, I said, this time louder, “Did he slip or jump off the bridge?” Everything about the look on Milo's face changed as I waved my hand. He stared off at the wall like I was not there. His face somehow looked less lifeless than usual but still terrified. He looked scared.

I quickly said as I saw him start to stand up, ready to scream, “Sorry for raising my voice. I just really need to find out what happened to Jack. We need to confirm his cause of death. Can you please just answer my questions?” 

He slowly nervously said, “No, you don’t.” I stared at him with horror growing in my eyes as I said, “Why?” He didn’t flinch an inch as he spoke, “You don’t want to know. It's better if you never know,” he said. “What happened at the bridge?” I shouted. He said nothing in response other than an, ‘No.’ “I said, what happened at the bridge," I screamed.

Milo looked at me and spoke in a quiet horrified voice. “I didn’t mean for Emily to die. I just wanted her to stop.” A smile crossed his face when he said stop. I heard about Emily before she went missing a few months ago. I blankly said, “I asked about Jack, not Emily. What did you do?” 

Milo looked at me, his hands were violently shaking as he said, “She fell off too.” I immediately shouted, "You said you didn’t mean for Emily to die, how could she have fallen off if you said it was an accident on your part. Did you push them off?" 

Milo coldly said, “It was an accident on her part. It was all her.” I screamed out, “Did you really think I would believe that happened twice? Your story does not line up. You are telling me you saw two people fall off a bridge on two separate occasions. You didn't report it the first time, your mother reported it the second time after she saw him fall from across the park and it was not your fault despite claiming it was an accident.”

Milo said in return, “When I said ‘accident,’ I was talking about her; she accidentally tripped. They both died because of their mistakes. It was all them.” He slammed his hand on the desk when he said their mistakes. I didn’t argue in response. Instead, I looked off to the door as I said, “I'm leaving. I’m telling someone about this.”

Milo almost immediately ran in front of the door. He then coldly said, “You don’t want to tell anyone about our conversation.” I looked down at him. He looked angry, his small hands in fists, he had his mouth open ready to scream. I then told him, “Move.”

He didn't; instead, he just screamed. I screamed back at him, “This whole conversation is being recorded. Just calm down or—”

The door opened, and who walked through was one of my coworkers. He said, “They found another body below the bridge. We think it's Emily.” I said nothing. I just stared at Milo. Milo then said, “It was their mistake. They all had it coming. I did nothing wrong, I would do it all again if I could.” That was when I realized that Milo was not a normal kid; he was a cold-blooded killer.

What did you think. I has some people say my last two creepypasta had too much shock value. I tired to make this scary without it. let me know if you felt like I did a good job at it. I am currently working on my next creepypasta. Please give me feedback so I can make that the best as I can would be greatly appreciate. Also thank you reading. It means so much to me that actually people take time out of their day to read my creepastas.

I worked as a police officer. I was told that someone named Jack Dather died after falling off the town bridge. A kid in the area saw it go down. His mother was the one who reported it. I was asked to talk to the kid to confirm if it was a suicide or an accident. I believe they said his name was Milo. I was bored of always being stuck giving out speeding tickets. I jumped at the opportunity to do something different.

When I arrived, the room was cold and empty. The only thing inside was an old desk, me, and Milo sitting on the other side. I slowly sat down and said, “My name is Jacob. I am here to ask you some questions.”

Milo didn’t seem to notice me. His face was completely empty, and any sense of emotion was hollow. He had short hair. He had emerald green eyes, but the lighting made them look grey. He was short. I was told he was twelve. His height made him look eight.

After a moment to clear my voice, I softly said, “Hey, they said your name is Milo. I am here to ask you some questions about what happened today at the bridge.” Milo turned to look at me. He was still completely expressionless. His eyes blinked very slowly. He stood completely still. He was nothing like what his colorful red and orange T-shirt would suggest. 

There was no way to tell if anything was going through his mind other than static. He was as silent as a dead mouse. He barely moved; he just stood there. He just looked off into nothing. After no response, I said, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble. I just want to ask you about what happened to Jack.”

He again said nothing in response, just his cold, lifeless face tilting towards me. I waved my hand toward him and slowly said, “Is everything alright, Milo? Are you okay? Do you not feel comfortable talking about what happened today?” 

He finally broke his silence and began to slowly nod at me. I nodded back. When I looked back, he didn't stop; he just kept doing it. It was slow, almost alien how lifelessly his body moved. After nearly a minute of him nodding back and forth, he said, “Okay, what do you want?” 

I softly said in response, “When and where did you see Jack?” For a few seconds, I saw his face finally have an expression. There was a sense of fear in his eyes. Milo then looked down toward the ground as he quietly said, “I was just playing a game and I saw Jack pass by.” 

I waved my hand at him and began once again, “Was the game near the town bridge? How close were you to the bridge when the accident happened.” He said in an even quieter voice, “Yes I was playing on the bridge. I was there. I saw it happen.”  

I looked at him solemnly and a frown slowly covered my face as I spoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is such a shame someone so young had to see something so horrific.” His hands started shaking the second I stopped speaking. His hands went from completely still to moving at ungodly speed in just a few seconds. His eyes were twitching. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. 

I reached into my pocket and quickly pulled out my phone and said, “This is going to be over soon. Your mom would not have let you do this if it wasn’t safe. Everything will go back to normal when I am done asking you questions. If you feel unsafe, I can call your parents.” 

“Don’t. I'm fine answering your questions, just don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to know,” he immediately said in return. I immediately said, “Your parents already know about our conversation. Your mom was the one who reported Jack's body.” Milo froze. He stopped blinking. It was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“You aren’t in trouble, I just really need some questions answered. Your mom contacted us about you. She said she wants us to talk to you about what happened today. Are you fine answering my questions? 

His face turned to anger when his mother was mentioned. He nodded in return as I finished speaking. His hands briefly turned into fists before returning to normal. He was clearly trying to hide his frustration. I was about to ask him about it but I stopped and just stuck to what I was supposed to talk about. 

“What was Jack doing when you saw him?” Milo responded instantly, this time he didn’t hide his anger, his eyes were burning with anger, “He was being a jerk.” I snapped back with, “How?” Milo didn’t wait another second before saying, “He tried to beat me up. He did that all the time when I was alone at the park.” 

His hands slowly moved into fists. He looked as if he was ready to punch someone before switching back to his empty state. I nodded at him as I said, “How long was that before he jumped? How long was he doing that kind of thing?” 

His expression was still empty but his voice was strangely happy, even excited as he spoke, “Years, he did that to me for years. He was about to do it again before he fell.” I looked back, concerned as I said, “What was the last thing Jack did before he jumped? Did something seem off to you?” 

Milo looked back as a smile slowly began to tear open his once expressionless face. He started shaking his legs under the table not nervously but joyfully. He then said in a clear calm voice, “He tried to punch me before he fell off.” 

My concern only grew as I slowly and nervously said, “Did he slip or jump off? Did Jack die after he tripped trying to punch you?” He looked back at me, his face went into an impression of his previous emotionally empty state. He then slowly said, “Can we move on to the next question? I don’t like this one. What else do you want to know?” His hands began to shake again. His legs were still shaking under the table but this time nervously. 

I slapped my hand on the table. As I pulled my hand back, I said, this time louder, “Did he slip or jump off the bridge?” Everything about the look on Milo's face changed as I waved my hand. He stared off at the wall like I was not there. His face somehow looked less lifeless than usual but still terrified. He looked scared.

I quickly said as I saw him start to stand up, ready to scream, “Sorry for raising my voice. I just really need to find out what happened to Jack. We need to confirm his cause of death. Can you please just answer my questions?” 

He slowly nervously said, “No, you don’t.” I stared at him with horror growing in my eyes as I said, “Why?” He didn’t flinch an inch as he spoke, “You don’t want to know. It's better if you never know,” he said. “What happened at the bridge?” I shouted. He said nothing in response other than an, ‘No.’ “I said, what happened at the bridge," I screamed.

Milo looked at me and spoke in a quiet horrified voice. “I didn’t mean for Emily to die. I just wanted her to stop.” A smile crossed his face when he said stop. I heard about Emily before she went missing a few months ago. I blankly said, “I asked about Jack, not Emily. What did you do?” 

Milo looked at me, his hands were violently shaking as he said, “She fell off too.” I immediately shouted, "You said you didn’t mean for Emily to die, how could she have fallen off if you said it was an accident on your part. Did you push them off?" 

Milo coldly said, “It was an accident on her part. It was all her.” I screamed out, “Did you really think I would believe that happened twice? Your story does not line up. You are telling me you saw two people fall off a bridge on two separate occasions. You didn't report it the first time, your mother reported it the second time after she saw him fall from across the park and it was not your fault despite claiming it was an accident.”

Milo said in return, “When I said ‘accident,’ I was talking about her; she accidentally tripped. They both died because of their mistakes. It was all them.” He slammed his hand on the desk when he said their mistakes. I didn’t argue in response. Instead, I looked off to the door as I said, “I'm leaving. I’m telling someone about this.”

Milo almost immediately ran in front of the door. He then coldly said, “You don’t want to tell anyone about our conversation.” I looked down at him. He looked angry, his small hands in fists, he had his mouth open ready to scream. I then told him, “Move.”

He didn't; instead, he just screamed. I screamed back at him, “This whole conversation is being recorded. Just calm down or—”

The door opened, and who walked through was one of my coworkers. He said, “They found another body below the bridge. We think it's Emily.” I said nothing. I just stared at Milo. Milo then said, “It was their mistake. They all had it coming. I did nothing wrong, I would do it all again if I could.” That was when I realized that Milo was not a normal kid; he was a cold-blooded killer.

I worked as a police officer. I was told that someone named Jack Dather died after falling off the town bridge. A kid in the area saw it go down. His mother was the one who reported it. I was asked to talk to the kid to confirm if it was a suicide or an accident. I believe they said his name was Milo. I was bored of always being stuck giving out speeding tickets. I jumped at the opportunity to do something different.

When I arrived, the room was cold and empty. The only thing inside was an old desk, me, and Milo sitting on the other side. I slowly sat down and said, “My name is Jacob. I am here to ask you some questions.”

Milo didn’t seem to notice me. His face was completely empty, and any sense of emotion was hollow. He had short hair. He had emerald green eyes, but the lighting made them look grey. He was short. I was told he was twelve. His height made him look eight.

After a moment to clear my voice, I softly said, “Hey, they said your name is Milo. I am here to ask you some questions about what happened today at the bridge.” Milo turned to look at me. He was still completely expressionless. His eyes blinked very slowly. He stood completely still. He was nothing like what his colorful red and orange T-shirt would suggest. 

There was no way to tell if anything was going through his mind other than static. He was as silent as a dead mouse. He barely moved; he just stood there. He just looked off into nothing. After no response, I said, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble. I just want to ask you about what happened to Jack.”

He again said nothing in response, just his cold, lifeless face tilting towards me. I waved my hand toward him and slowly said, “Is everything alright, Milo? Are you okay? Do you not feel comfortable talking about what happened today?” 

He finally broke his silence and began to slowly nod at me. I nodded back. When I looked back, he didn't stop; he just kept doing it. It was slow, almost alien how lifelessly his body moved. After nearly a minute of him nodding back and forth, he said, “Okay, what do you want?” 

I softly said in response, “When and where did you see Jack?” For a few seconds, I saw his face finally have an expression. There was a sense of fear in his eyes. Milo then looked down toward the ground as he quietly said, “I was just playing a game and I saw Jack pass by.” 

I waved my hand at him and began once again, “Was the game near the town bridge? How close were you to the bridge when the accident happened.” He said in an even quieter voice, “Yes I was playing on the bridge. I was there. I saw it happen.”  

I looked at him solemnly and a frown slowly covered my face as I spoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is such a shame someone so young had to see something so horrific.” His hands started shaking the second I stopped speaking. His hands went from completely still to moving at ungodly speed in just a few seconds. His eyes were twitching. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. 

I reached into my pocket and quickly pulled out my phone and said, “This is going to be over soon. Your mom would not have let you do this if it wasn’t safe. Everything will go back to normal when I am done asking you questions. If you feel unsafe, I can call your parents.” 

“Don’t. I'm fine answering your questions, just don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to know,” he immediately said in return. I immediately said, “Your parents already know about our conversation. Your mom was the one who reported Jack's body.” Milo froze. He stopped blinking. It was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“You aren’t in trouble, I just really need some questions answered. Your mom contacted us about you. She said she wants us to talk to you about what happened today. Are you fine answering my questions? 

His face turned to anger when his mother was mentioned. He nodded in return as I finished speaking. His hands briefly turned into fists before returning to normal. He was clearly trying to hide his frustration. I was about to ask him about it but I stopped and just stuck to what I was supposed to talk about. 

“What was Jack doing when you saw him?” Milo responded instantly, this time he didn’t hide his anger, his eyes were burning with anger, “He was being a jerk.” I snapped back with, “How?” Milo didn’t wait another second before saying, “He tried to beat me up. He did that all the time when I was alone at the park.” 

His hands slowly moved into fists. He looked as if he was ready to punch someone before switching back to his empty state. I nodded at him as I said, “How long was that before he jumped? How long was he doing that kind of thing?” 

His expression was still empty but his voice was strangely happy, even excited as he spoke, “Years, he did that to me for years. He was about to do it again before he fell.” I looked back, concerned as I said, “What was the last thing Jack did before he jumped? Did something seem off to you?” 

Milo looked back as a smile slowly began to tear open his once expressionless face. He started shaking his legs under the table not nervously but joyfully. He then said in a clear calm voice, “He tried to punch me before he fell off.” 

My concern only grew as I slowly and nervously said, “Did he slip or jump off? Did Jack die after he tripped trying to punch you?” He looked back at me, his face went into an impression of his previous emotionally empty state. He then slowly said, “Can we move on to the next question? I don’t like this one. What else do you want to know?” His hands began to shake again. His legs were still shaking under the table but this time nervously. 

I slapped my hand on the table. As I pulled my hand back, I said, this time louder, “Did he slip or jump off the bridge?” Everything about the look on Milo's face changed as I waved my hand. He stared off at the wall like I was not there. His face somehow looked less lifeless than usual but still terrified. He looked scared.

I quickly said as I saw him start to stand up, ready to scream, “Sorry for raising my voice. I just really need to find out what happened to Jack. We need to confirm his cause of death. Can you please just answer my questions?” 

He slowly nervously said, “No, you don’t.” I stared at him with horror growing in my eyes as I said, “Why?” He didn’t flinch an inch as he spoke, “You don’t want to know. It's better if you never know,” he said. “What happened at the bridge?” I shouted. He said nothing in response other than an, ‘No.’ “I said, what happened at the bridge," I screamed.

Milo looked at me and spoke in a quiet horrified voice. “I didn’t mean for Emily to die. I just wanted her to stop.” A smile crossed his face when he said stop. I heard about Emily before she went missing a few months ago. I blankly said, “I asked about Jack, not Emily. What did you do?” 

Milo looked at me, his hands were violently shaking as he said, “She fell off too.” I immediately shouted, "You said you didn’t mean for Emily to die, how could she have fallen off if you said it was an accident on your part. Did you push them off?" 

Milo coldly said, “It was an accident on her part. It was all her.” I screamed out, “Did you really think I would believe that happened twice? Your story does not line up. You are telling me you saw two people fall off a bridge on two separate occasions. You didn't report it the first time, your mother reported it the second time after she saw him fall from across the park and it was not your fault despite claiming it was an accident.”

Milo said in return, “When I said ‘accident,’ I was talking about her; she accidentally tripped. They both died because of their mistakes. It was all them.” He slammed his hand on the desk when he said their mistakes. I didn’t argue in response. Instead, I looked off to the door as I said, “I'm leaving. I’m telling someone about this.”

Milo almost immediately ran in front of the door. He then coldly said, “You don’t want to tell anyone about our conversation.” I looked down at him. He looked angry, his small hands in fists, he had his mouth open ready to scream. I then told him, “Move.”

He didn't; instead, he just screamed. I screamed back at him, “This whole conversation is being recorded. Just calm down or—”

The door opened, and who walked through was one of my coworkers. He said, “They found another body below the bridge. We think it's Emily.” I said nothing. I just stared at Milo. Milo then said, “It was their mistake. They all had it coming. I did nothing wrong, I would do it all again if I could.” That was when I realized that Milo was not a normal kid; he was a cold-blooded killer.

I worked as a police officer. I was told that someone named Jack Dather died after falling off the town bridge. A kid in the area saw it go down. His mother was the one who reported it. I was asked to talk to the kid to confirm if it was a suicide or an accident. I believe they said his name was Milo. I was bored of always being stuck giving out speeding tickets. I jumped at the opportunity to do something different.

When I arrived, the room was cold and empty. The only thing inside was an old desk, me, and Milo sitting on the other side. I slowly sat down and said, “My name is Jacob. I am here to ask you some questions.”

Milo didn’t seem to notice me. His face was completely empty, and any sense of emotion was hollow. He had short hair. He had emerald green eyes, but the lighting made them look grey. He was short. I was told he was twelve. His height made him look eight.

After a moment to clear my voice, I softly said, “Hey, they said your name is Milo. I am here to ask you some questions about what happened today at the bridge.” Milo turned to look at me. He was still completely expressionless. His eyes blinked very slowly. He stood completely still. He was nothing like what his colorful red and orange T-shirt would suggest. 

There was no way to tell if anything was going through his mind other than static. He was as silent as a dead mouse. He barely moved; he just stood there. He just looked off into nothing. After no response, I said, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble. I just want to ask you about what happened to Jack.”

He again said nothing in response, just his cold, lifeless face tilting towards me. I waved my hand toward him and slowly said, “Is everything alright, Milo? Are you okay? Do you not feel comfortable talking about what happened today?” 

He finally broke his silence and began to slowly nod at me. I nodded back. When I looked back, he didn't stop; he just kept doing it. It was slow, almost alien how lifelessly his body moved. After nearly a minute of him nodding back and forth, he said, “Okay, what do you want?” 

I softly said in response, “When and where did you see Jack?” For a few seconds, I saw his face finally have an expression. There was a sense of fear in his eyes. Milo then looked down toward the ground as he quietly said, “I was just playing a game and I saw Jack pass by.” 

I waved my hand at him and began once again, “Was the game near the town bridge? How close were you to the bridge when the accident happened.” He said in an even quieter voice, “Yes I was playing on the bridge. I was there. I saw it happen.”  

I looked at him solemnly and a frown slowly covered my face as I spoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is such a shame someone so young had to see something so horrific.” His hands started shaking the second I stopped speaking. His hands went from completely still to moving at ungodly speed in just a few seconds. His eyes were twitching. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. 

I reached into my pocket and quickly pulled out my phone and said, “This is going to be over soon. Your mom would not have let you do this if it wasn’t safe. Everything will go back to normal when I am done asking you questions. If you feel unsafe, I can call your parents.” 

“Don’t. I'm fine answering your questions, just don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to know,” he immediately said in return. I immediately said, “Your parents already know about our conversation. Your mom was the one who reported Jack's body.” Milo froze. He stopped blinking. It was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“You aren’t in trouble, I just really need some questions answered. Your mom contacted us about you. She said she wants us to talk to you about what happened today. Are you fine answering my questions? 

His face turned to anger when his mother was mentioned. He nodded in return as I finished speaking. His hands briefly turned into fists before returning to normal. He was clearly trying to hide his frustration. I was about to ask him about it but I stopped and just stuck to what I was supposed to talk about. 

“What was Jack doing when you saw him?” Milo responded instantly, this time he didn’t hide his anger, his eyes were burning with anger, “He was being a jerk.” I snapped back with, “How?” Milo didn’t wait another second before saying, “He tried to beat me up. He did that all the time when I was alone at the park.” 

His hands slowly moved into fists. He looked as if he was ready to punch someone before switching back to his empty state. I nodded at him as I said, “How long was that before he jumped? How long was he doing that kind of thing?” 

His expression was still empty but his voice was strangely happy, even excited as he spoke, “Years, he did that to me for years. He was about to do it again before he fell.” I looked back, concerned as I said, “What was the last thing Jack did before he jumped? Did something seem off to you?” 

Milo looked back as a smile slowly began to tear open his once expressionless face. He started shaking his legs under the table not nervously but joyfully. He then said in a clear calm voice, “He tried to punch me before he fell off.” 

My concern only grew as I slowly and nervously said, “Did he slip or jump off? Did Jack die after he tripped trying to punch you?” He looked back at me, his face went into an impression of his previous emotionally empty state. He then slowly said, “Can we move on to the next question? I don’t like this one. What else do you want to know?” His hands began to shake again. His legs were still shaking under the table but this time nervously. 

I slapped my hand on the table. As I pulled my hand back, I said, this time louder, “Did he slip or jump off the bridge?” Everything about the look on Milo's face changed as I waved my hand. He stared off at the wall like I was not there. His face somehow looked less lifeless than usual but still terrified. He looked scared.

I quickly said as I saw him start to stand up, ready to scream, “Sorry for raising my voice. I just really need to find out what happened to Jack. We need to confirm his cause of death. Can you please just answer my questions?” 

He slowly nervously said, “No, you don’t.” I stared at him with horror growing in my eyes as I said, “Why?” He didn’t flinch an inch as he spoke, “You don’t want to know. It's better if you never know,” he said. “What happened at the bridge?” I shouted. He said nothing in response other than an, ‘No.’ “I said, what happened at the bridge," I screamed.

Milo looked at me and spoke in a quiet horrified voice. “I didn’t mean for Emily to die. I just wanted her to stop.” A smile crossed his face when he said stop. I heard about Emily before she went missing a few months ago. I blankly said, “I asked about Jack, not Emily. What did you do?” 

Milo looked at me, his hands were violently shaking as he said, “She fell off too.” I immediately shouted, "You said you didn’t mean for Emily to die, how could she have fallen off if you said it was an accident on your part. Did you push them off?" 

Milo coldly said, “It was an accident on her part. It was all her.” I screamed out, “Did you really think I would believe that happened twice? Your story does not line up. You are telling me you saw two people fall off a bridge on two separate occasions. You didn't report it the first time, your mother reported it the second time after she saw him fall from across the park and it was not your fault despite claiming it was an accident.”

Milo said in return, “When I said ‘accident,’ I was talking about her; she accidentally tripped. They both died because of their mistakes. It was all them.” He slammed his hand on the desk when he said their mistakes. I didn’t argue in response. Instead, I looked off to the door as I said, “I'm leaving. I’m telling someone about this.”

Milo almost immediately ran in front of the door. He then coldly said, “You don’t want to tell anyone about our conversation.” I looked down at him. He looked angry, his small hands in fists, he had his mouth open ready to scream. I then told him, “Move.”

He didn't; instead, he just screamed. I screamed back at him, “This whole conversation is being recorded. Just calm down or—”

The door opened, and who walked through was one of my coworkers. He said, “They found another body below the bridge. We think it's Emily.” I said nothing. I just stared at Milo. Milo then said, “It was their mistake. They all had it coming. I did nothing wrong, I would do it all again if I could.” That was when I realized that Milo was not a normal kid; he was a cold-blooded killer.

I worked as a police officer. I was told that someone named Jack Dather died after falling off the town bridge. A kid in the area saw it go down. His mother was the one who reported it. I was asked to talk to the kid to confirm if it was a suicide or an accident. I believe they said his name was Milo. I was bored of always being stuck giving out speeding tickets. I jumped at the opportunity to do something different.

When I arrived, the room was cold and empty. The only thing inside was an old desk, me, and Milo sitting on the other side. I slowly sat down and said, “My name is Jacob. I am here to ask you some questions.”

Milo didn’t seem to notice me. His face was completely empty, and any sense of emotion was hollow. He had short hair. He had emerald green eyes, but the lighting made them look grey. He was short. I was told he was twelve. His height made him look eight.

After a moment to clear my voice, I softly said, “Hey, they said your name is Milo. I am here to ask you some questions about what happened today at the bridge.” Milo turned to look at me. He was still completely expressionless. His eyes blinked very slowly. He stood completely still. He was nothing like what his colorful red and orange T-shirt would suggest. 

There was no way to tell if anything was going through his mind other than static. He was as silent as a dead mouse. He barely moved; he just stood there. He just looked off into nothing. After no response, I said, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble. I just want to ask you about what happened to Jack.”

He again said nothing in response, just his cold, lifeless face tilting towards me. I waved my hand toward him and slowly said, “Is everything alright, Milo? Are you okay? Do you not feel comfortable talking about what happened today?” 

He finally broke his silence and began to slowly nod at me. I nodded back. When I looked back, he didn't stop; he just kept doing it. It was slow, almost alien how lifelessly his body moved. After nearly a minute of him nodding back and forth, he said, “Okay, what do you want?” 

I softly said in response, “When and where did you see Jack?” For a few seconds, I saw his face finally have an expression. There was a sense of fear in his eyes. Milo then looked down toward the ground as he quietly said, “I was just playing a game and I saw Jack pass by.” 

I waved my hand at him and began once again, “Was the game near the town bridge? How close were you to the bridge when the accident happened.” He said in an even quieter voice, “Yes I was playing on the bridge. I was there. I saw it happen.”  

I looked at him solemnly and a frown slowly covered my face as I spoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is such a shame someone so young had to see something so horrific.” His hands started shaking the second I stopped speaking. His hands went from completely still to moving at ungodly speed in just a few seconds. His eyes were twitching. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. 

I reached into my pocket and quickly pulled out my phone and said, “This is going to be over soon. Your mom would not have let you do this if it wasn’t safe. Everything will go back to normal when I am done asking you questions. If you feel unsafe, I can call your parents.” 

“Don’t. I'm fine answering your questions, just don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to know,” he immediately said in return. I immediately said, “Your parents already know about our conversation. Your mom was the one who reported Jack's body.” Milo froze. He stopped blinking. It was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“You aren’t in trouble, I just really need some questions answered. Your mom contacted us about you. She said she wants us to talk to you about what happened today. Are you fine answering my questions? 

His face turned to anger when his mother was mentioned. He nodded in return as I finished speaking. His hands briefly turned into fists before returning to normal. He was clearly trying to hide his frustration. I was about to ask him about it but I stopped and just stuck to what I was supposed to talk about. 

“What was Jack doing when you saw him?” Milo responded instantly, this time he didn’t hide his anger, his eyes were burning with anger, “He was being a jerk.” I snapped back with, “How?” Milo didn’t wait another second before saying, “He tried to beat me up. He did that all the time when I was alone at the park.” 

His hands slowly moved into fists. He looked as if he was ready to punch someone before switching back to his empty state. I nodded at him as I said, “How long was that before he jumped? How long was he doing that kind of thing?” 

His expression was still empty but his voice was strangely happy, even excited as he spoke, “Years, he did that to me for years. He was about to do it again before he fell.” I looked back, concerned as I said, “What was the last thing Jack did before he jumped? Did something seem off to you?” 

Milo looked back as a smile slowly began to tear open his once expressionless face. He started shaking his legs under the table not nervously but joyfully. He then said in a clear calm voice, “He tried to punch me before he fell off.” 

My concern only grew as I slowly and nervously said, “Did he slip or jump off? Did Jack die after he tripped trying to punch you?” He looked back at me, his face went into an impression of his previous emotionally empty state. He then slowly said, “Can we move on to the next question? I don’t like this one. What else do you want to know?” His hands began to shake again. His legs were still shaking under the table but this time nervously. 

I slapped my hand on the table. As I pulled my hand back, I said, this time louder, “Did he slip or jump off the bridge?” Everything about the look on Milo's face changed as I waved my hand. He stared off at the wall like I was not there. His face somehow looked less lifeless than usual but still terrified. He looked scared.

I quickly said as I saw him start to stand up, ready to scream, “Sorry for raising my voice. I just really need to find out what happened to Jack. We need to confirm his cause of death. Can you please just answer my questions?” 

He slowly nervously said, “No, you don’t.” I stared at him with horror growing in my eyes as I said, “Why?” He didn’t flinch an inch as he spoke, “You don’t want to know. It's better if you never know,” he said. “What happened at the bridge?” I shouted. He said nothing in response other than an, ‘No.’ “I said, what happened at the bridge," I screamed.

Milo looked at me and spoke in a quiet horrified voice. “I didn’t mean for Emily to die. I just wanted her to stop.” A smile crossed his face when he said stop. I heard about Emily before she went missing a few months ago. I blankly said, “I asked about Jack, not Emily. What did you do?” 

Milo looked at me, his hands were violently shaking as he said, “She fell off too.” I immediately shouted, "You said you didn’t mean for Emily to die, how could she have fallen off if you said it was an accident on your part. Did you push them off?" 

Milo coldly said, “It was an accident on her part. It was all her.” I screamed out, “Did you really think I would believe that happened twice? Your story does not line up. You are telling me you saw two people fall off a bridge on two separate occasions. You didn't report it the first time, your mother reported it the second time after she saw him fall from across the park and it was not your fault despite claiming it was an accident.”

Milo said in return, “When I said ‘accident,’ I was talking about her; she accidentally tripped. They both died because of their mistakes. It was all them.” He slammed his hand on the desk when he said their mistakes. I didn’t argue in response. Instead, I looked off to the door as I said, “I'm leaving. I’m telling someone about this.”

Milo almost immediately ran in front of the door. He then coldly said, “You don’t want to tell anyone about our conversation.” I looked down at him. He looked angry, his small hands in fists, he had his mouth open ready to scream. I then told him, “Move.”

He didn't; instead, he just screamed. I screamed back at him, “This whole conversation is being recorded. Just calm down or—”

The door opened, and who walked through was one of my coworkers. He said, “They found another body below the bridge. We think it's Emily.” I said nothing. I just stared at Milo. Milo then said, “It was their mistake. They all had it coming. I did nothing wrong, I would do it all again if I could.” That was when I realized that Milo was not a normal kid; he was a cold-blooded killer.

I worked as a police officer. I was told that someone named Jack Dather died after falling off the town bridge. A kid in the area saw it go down. His mother was the one who reported it. I was asked to talk to the kid to confirm if it was a suicide or an accident. I believe they said his name was Milo. I was bored of always being stuck giving out speeding tickets. I jumped at the opportunity to do something different.

When I arrived, the room was cold and empty. The only thing inside was an old desk, me, and Milo sitting on the other side. I slowly sat down and said, “My name is Jacob. I am here to ask you some questions.”

Milo didn’t seem to notice me. His face was completely empty, and any sense of emotion was hollow. He had short hair. He had emerald green eyes, but the lighting made them look grey. He was short. I was told he was twelve. His height made him look eight.

After a moment to clear my voice, I softly said, “Hey, they said your name is Milo. I am here to ask you some questions about what happened today at the bridge.” Milo turned to look at me. He was still completely expressionless. His eyes blinked very slowly. He stood completely still. He was nothing like what his colorful red and orange T-shirt would suggest. 

There was no way to tell if anything was going through his mind other than static. He was as silent as a dead mouse. He barely moved; he just stood there. He just looked off into nothing. After no response, I said, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble. I just want to ask you about what happened to Jack.”

He again said nothing in response, just his cold, lifeless face tilting towards me. I waved my hand toward him and slowly said, “Is everything alright, Milo? Are you okay? Do you not feel comfortable talking about what happened today?” 

He finally broke his silence and began to slowly nod at me. I nodded back. When I looked back, he didn't stop; he just kept doing it. It was slow, almost alien how lifelessly his body moved. After nearly a minute of him nodding back and forth, he said, “Okay, what do you want?” 

I softly said in response, “When and where did you see Jack?” For a few seconds, I saw his face finally have an expression. There was a sense of fear in his eyes. Milo then looked down toward the ground as he quietly said, “I was just playing a game and I saw Jack pass by.” 

I waved my hand at him and began once again, “Was the game near the town bridge? How close were you to the bridge when the accident happened.” He said in an even quieter voice, “Yes I was playing on the bridge. I was there. I saw it happen.”  

I looked at him solemnly and a frown slowly covered my face as I spoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is such a shame someone so young had to see something so horrific.” His hands started shaking the second I stopped speaking. His hands went from completely still to moving at ungodly speed in just a few seconds. His eyes were twitching. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. 

I reached into my pocket and quickly pulled out my phone and said, “This is going to be over soon. Your mom would not have let you do this if it wasn’t safe. Everything will go back to normal when I am done asking you questions. If you feel unsafe, I can call your parents.” 

“Don’t. I'm fine answering your questions, just don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to know,” he immediately said in return. I immediately said, “Your parents already know about our conversation. Your mom was the one who reported Jack's body.” Milo froze. He stopped blinking. It was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“You aren’t in trouble, I just really need some questions answered. Your mom contacted us about you. She said she wants us to talk to you about what happened today. Are you fine answering my questions? 

His face turned to anger when his mother was mentioned. He nodded in return as I finished speaking. His hands briefly turned into fists before returning to normal. He was clearly trying to hide his frustration. I was about to ask him about it but I stopped and just stuck to what I was supposed to talk about. 

“What was Jack doing when you saw him?” Milo responded instantly, this time he didn’t hide his anger, his eyes were burning with anger, “He was being a jerk.” I snapped back with, “How?” Milo didn’t wait another second before saying, “He tried to beat me up. He did that all the time when I was alone at the park.” 

His hands slowly moved into fists. He looked as if he was ready to punch someone before switching back to his empty state. I nodded at him as I said, “How long was that before he jumped? How long was he doing that kind of thing?” 

His expression was still empty but his voice was strangely happy, even excited as he spoke, “Years, he did that to me for years. He was about to do it again before he fell.” I looked back, concerned as I said, “What was the last thing Jack did before he jumped? Did something seem off to you?” 

Milo looked back as a smile slowly began to tear open his once expressionless face. He started shaking his legs under the table not nervously but joyfully. He then said in a clear calm voice, “He tried to punch me before he fell off.” 

My concern only grew as I slowly and nervously said, “Did he slip or jump off? Did Jack die after he tripped trying to punch you?” He looked back at me, his face went into an impression of his previous emotionally empty state. He then slowly said, “Can we move on to the next question? I don’t like this one. What else do you want to know?” His hands began to shake again. His legs were still shaking under the table but this time nervously. 

I slapped my hand on the table. As I pulled my hand back, I said, this time louder, “Did he slip or jump off the bridge?” Everything about the look on Milo's face changed as I waved my hand. He stared off at the wall like I was not there. His face somehow looked less lifeless than usual but still terrified. He looked scared.

I quickly said as I saw him start to stand up, ready to scream, “Sorry for raising my voice. I just really need to find out what happened to Jack. We need to confirm his cause of death. Can you please just answer my questions?” 

He slowly nervously said, “No, you don’t.” I stared at him with horror growing in my eyes as I said, “Why?” He didn’t flinch an inch as he spoke, “You don’t want to know. It's better if you never know,” he said. “What happened at the bridge?” I shouted. He said nothing in response other than an, ‘No.’ “I said, what happened at the bridge," I screamed.

Milo looked at me and spoke in a quiet horrified voice. “I didn’t mean for Emily to die. I just wanted her to stop.” A smile crossed his face when he said stop. I heard about Emily before she went missing a few months ago. I blankly said, “I asked about Jack, not Emily. What did you do?” 

Milo looked at me, his hands were violently shaking as he said, “She fell off too.” I immediately shouted, "You said you didn’t mean for Emily to die, how could she have fallen off if you said it was an accident on your part. Did you push them off?" 

Milo coldly said, “It was an accident on her part. It was all her.” I screamed out, “Did you really think I would believe that happened twice? Your story does not line up. You are telling me you saw two people fall off a bridge on two separate occasions. You didn't report it the first time, your mother reported it the second time after she saw him fall from across the park and it was not your fault despite claiming it was an accident.”

Milo said in return, “When I said ‘accident,’ I was talking about her; she accidentally tripped. They both died because of their mistakes. It was all them.” He slammed his hand on the desk when he said their mistakes. I didn’t argue in response. Instead, I looked off to the door as I said, “I'm leaving. I’m telling someone about this.”

Milo almost immediately ran in front of the door. He then coldly said, “You don’t want to tell anyone about our conversation.” I looked down at him. He looked angry, his small hands in fists, he had his mouth open ready to scream. I then told him, “Move.”

He didn't; instead, he just screamed. I screamed back at him, “This whole conversation is being recorded. Just calm down or—”

The door opened, and who walked through was one of my coworkers. He said, “They found another body below the bridge. We think it's Emily.” I said nothing. I just stared at Milo. Milo then said, “It was their mistake. They all had it coming. I did nothing wrong, I would do it all again if I could.” That was when I realized that Milo was not a normal kid; he was a cold-blooded killer.

I worked as a police officer. I was told that someone named Jack Dather died after falling off the town bridge. A kid in the area saw it go down. His mother was the one who reported it. I was asked to talk to the kid to confirm if it was a suicide or an accident. I believe they said his name was Milo. I was bored of always being stuck giving out speeding tickets. I jumped at the opportunity to do something different.

When I arrived, the room was cold and empty. The only thing inside was an old desk, me, and Milo sitting on the other side. I slowly sat down and said, “My name is Jacob. I am here to ask you some questions.”

Milo didn’t seem to notice me. His face was completely empty, and any sense of emotion was hollow. He had short hair. He had emerald green eyes, but the lighting made them look grey. He was short. I was told he was twelve. His height made him look eight.

After a moment to clear my voice, I softly said, “Hey, they said your name is Milo. I am here to ask you some questions about what happened today at the bridge.” Milo turned to look at me. He was still completely expressionless. His eyes blinked very slowly. He stood completely still. He was nothing like what his colorful red and orange T-shirt would suggest. 

There was no way to tell if anything was going through his mind other than static. He was as silent as a dead mouse. He barely moved; he just stood there. He just looked off into nothing. After no response, I said, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble. I just want to ask you about what happened to Jack.”

He again said nothing in response, just his cold, lifeless face tilting towards me. I waved my hand toward him and slowly said, “Is everything alright, Milo? Are you okay? Do you not feel comfortable talking about what happened today?” 

He finally broke his silence and began to slowly nod at me. I nodded back. When I looked back, he didn't stop; he just kept doing it. It was slow, almost alien how lifelessly his body moved. After nearly a minute of him nodding back and forth, he said, “Okay, what do you want?” 

I softly said in response, “When and where did you see Jack?” For a few seconds, I saw his face finally have an expression. There was a sense of fear in his eyes. Milo then looked down toward the ground as he quietly said, “I was just playing a game and I saw Jack pass by.” 

I waved my hand at him and began once again, “Was the game near the town bridge? How close were you to the bridge when the accident happened.” He said in an even quieter voice, “Yes I was playing on the bridge. I was there. I saw it happen.”  

I looked at him solemnly and a frown slowly covered my face as I spoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is such a shame someone so young had to see something so horrific.” His hands started shaking the second I stopped speaking. His hands went from completely still to moving at ungodly speed in just a few seconds. His eyes were twitching. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. 

I reached into my pocket and quickly pulled out my phone and said, “This is going to be over soon. Your mom would not have let you do this if it wasn’t safe. Everything will go back to normal when I am done asking you questions. If you feel unsafe, I can call your parents.” 

“Don’t. I'm fine answering your questions, just don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to know,” he immediately said in return. I immediately said, “Your parents already know about our conversation. Your mom was the one who reported Jack's body.” Milo froze. He stopped blinking. It was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“You aren’t in trouble, I just really need some questions answered. Your mom contacted us about you. She said she wants us to talk to you about what happened today. Are you fine answering my questions? 

His face turned to anger when his mother was mentioned. He nodded in return as I finished speaking. His hands briefly turned into fists before returning to normal. He was clearly trying to hide his frustration. I was about to ask him about it but I stopped and just stuck to what I was supposed to talk about. 

“What was Jack doing when you saw him?” Milo responded instantly, this time he didn’t hide his anger, his eyes were burning with anger, “He was being a jerk.” I snapped back with, “How?” Milo didn’t wait another second before saying, “He tried to beat me up. He did that all the time when I was alone at the park.” 

His hands slowly moved into fists. He looked as if he was ready to punch someone before switching back to his empty state. I nodded at him as I said, “How long was that before he jumped? How long was he doing that kind of thing?” 

His expression was still empty but his voice was strangely happy, even excited as he spoke, “Years, he did that to me for years. He was about to do it again before he fell.” I looked back, concerned as I said, “What was the last thing Jack did before he jumped? Did something seem off to you?” 

Milo looked back as a smile slowly began to tear open his once expressionless face. He started shaking his legs under the table not nervously but joyfully. He then said in a clear calm voice, “He tried to punch me before he fell off.” 

My concern only grew as I slowly and nervously said, “Did he slip or jump off? Did Jack die after he tripped trying to punch you?” He looked back at me, his face went into an impression of his previous emotionally empty state. He then slowly said, “Can we move on to the next question? I don’t like this one. What else do you want to know?” His hands began to shake again. His legs were still shaking under the table but this time nervously. 

I slapped my hand on the table. As I pulled my hand back, I said, this time louder, “Did he slip or jump off the bridge?” Everything about the look on Milo's face changed as I waved my hand. He stared off at the wall like I was not there. His face somehow looked less lifeless than usual but still terrified. He looked scared.

I quickly said as I saw him start to stand up, ready to scream, “Sorry for raising my voice. I just really need to find out what happened to Jack. We need to confirm his cause of death. Can you please just answer my questions?” 

He slowly nervously said, “No, you don’t.” I stared at him with horror growing in my eyes as I said, “Why?” He didn’t flinch an inch as he spoke, “You don’t want to know. It's better if you never know,” he said. “What happened at the bridge?” I shouted. He said nothing in response other than an, ‘No.’ “I said, what happened at the bridge," I screamed.

Milo looked at me and spoke in a quiet horrified voice. “I didn’t mean for Emily to die. I just wanted her to stop.” A smile crossed his face when he said stop. I heard about Emily before she went missing a few months ago. I blankly said, “I asked about Jack, not Emily. What did you do?” 

Milo looked at me, his hands were violently shaking as he said, “She fell off too.” I immediately shouted, "You said you didn’t mean for Emily to die, how could she have fallen off if you said it was an accident on your part. Did you push them off?" 

Milo coldly said, “It was an accident on her part. It was all her.” I screamed out, “Did you really think I would believe that happened twice? Your story does not line up. You are telling me you saw two people fall off a bridge on two separate occasions. You didn't report it the first time, your mother reported it the second time after she saw him fall from across the park and it was not your fault despite claiming it was an accident.”

Milo said in return, “When I said ‘accident,’ I was talking about her; she accidentally tripped. They both died because of their mistakes. It was all them.” He slammed his hand on the desk when he said their mistakes. I didn’t argue in response. Instead, I looked off to the door as I said, “I'm leaving. I’m telling someone about this.”

Milo almost immediately ran in front of the door. He then coldly said, “You don’t want to tell anyone about our conversation.” I looked down at him. He looked angry, his small hands in fists, he had his mouth open ready to scream. I then told him, “Move.”

He didn't; instead, he just screamed. I screamed back at him, “This whole conversation is being recorded. Just calm down or—”

The door opened, and who walked through was one of my coworkers. He said, “They found another body below the bridge. We think it's Emily.” I said nothing. I just stared at Milo. Milo then said, “It was their mistake. They all had it coming. I did nothing wrong, I would do it all again if I could.” That was when I realized that Milo was not a normal kid; he was a cold-blooded killer.

I worked as a police officer. I was told that someone named Jack Dather died after falling off the town bridge. A kid in the area saw it go down. His mother was the one who reported it. I was asked to talk to the kid to confirm if it was a suicide or an accident. I believe they said his name was Milo. I was bored of always being stuck giving out speeding tickets. I jumped at the opportunity to do something different.

When I arrived, the room was cold and empty. The only thing inside was an old desk, me, and Milo sitting on the other side. I slowly sat down and said, “My name is Jacob. I am here to ask you some questions.”

Milo didn’t seem to notice me. His face was completely empty, and any sense of emotion was hollow. He had short hair. He had emerald green eyes, but the lighting made them look grey. He was short. I was told he was twelve. His height made him look eight.

After a moment to clear my voice, I softly said, “Hey, they said your name is Milo. I am here to ask you some questions about what happened today at the bridge.” Milo turned to look at me. He was still completely expressionless. His eyes blinked very slowly. He stood completely still. He was nothing like what his colorful red and orange T-shirt would suggest. 

There was no way to tell if anything was going through his mind other than static. He was as silent as a dead mouse. He barely moved; he just stood there. He just looked off into nothing. After no response, I said, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble. I just want to ask you about what happened to Jack.”

He again said nothing in response, just his cold, lifeless face tilting towards me. I waved my hand toward him and slowly said, “Is everything alright, Milo? Are you okay? Do you not feel comfortable talking about what happened today?” 

He finally broke his silence and began to slowly nod at me. I nodded back. When I looked back, he didn't stop; he just kept doing it. It was slow, almost alien how lifelessly his body moved. After nearly a minute of him nodding back and forth, he said, “Okay, what do you want?” 

I softly said in response, “When and where did you see Jack?” For a few seconds, I saw his face finally have an expression. There was a sense of fear in his eyes. Milo then looked down toward the ground as he quietly said, “I was just playing a game and I saw Jack pass by.” 

I waved my hand at him and began once again, “Was the game near the town bridge? How close were you to the bridge when the accident happened.” He said in an even quieter voice, “Yes I was playing on the bridge. I was there. I saw it happen.”  

I looked at him solemnly and a frown slowly covered my face as I spoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is such a shame someone so young had to see something so horrific.” His hands started shaking the second I stopped speaking. His hands went from completely still to moving at ungodly speed in just a few seconds. His eyes were twitching. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. 

I reached into my pocket and quickly pulled out my phone and said, “This is going to be over soon. Your mom would not have let you do this if it wasn’t safe. Everything will go back to normal when I am done asking you questions. If you feel unsafe, I can call your parents.” 

“Don’t. I'm fine answering your questions, just don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to know,” he immediately said in return. I immediately said, “Your parents already know about our conversation. Your mom was the one who reported Jack's body.” Milo froze. He stopped blinking. It was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“You aren’t in trouble, I just really need some questions answered. Your mom contacted us about you. She said she wants us to talk to you about what happened today. Are you fine answering my questions? 

His face turned to anger when his mother was mentioned. He nodded in return as I finished speaking. His hands briefly turned into fists before returning to normal. He was clearly trying to hide his frustration. I was about to ask him about it but I stopped and just stuck to what I was supposed to talk about. 

“What was Jack doing when you saw him?” Milo responded instantly, this time he didn’t hide his anger, his eyes were burning with anger, “He was being a jerk.” I snapped back with, “How?” Milo didn’t wait another second before saying, “He tried to beat me up. He did that all the time when I was alone at the park.” 

His hands slowly moved into fists. He looked as if he was ready to punch someone before switching back to his empty state. I nodded at him as I said, “How long was that before he jumped? How long was he doing that kind of thing?” 

His expression was still empty but his voice was strangely happy, even excited as he spoke, “Years, he did that to me for years. He was about to do it again before he fell.” I looked back, concerned as I said, “What was the last thing Jack did before he jumped? Did something seem off to you?” 

Milo looked back as a smile slowly began to tear open his once expressionless face. He started shaking his legs under the table not nervously but joyfully. He then said in a clear calm voice, “He tried to punch me before he fell off.” 

My concern only grew as I slowly and nervously said, “Did he slip or jump off? Did Jack die after he tripped trying to punch you?” He looked back at me, his face went into an impression of his previous emotionally empty state. He then slowly said, “Can we move on to the next question? I don’t like this one. What else do you want to know?” His hands began to shake again. His legs were still shaking under the table but this time nervously. 

I slapped my hand on the table. As I pulled my hand back, I said, this time louder, “Did he slip or jump off the bridge?” Everything about the look on Milo's face changed as I waved my hand. He stared off at the wall like I was not there. His face somehow looked less lifeless than usual but still terrified. He looked scared.

I quickly said as I saw him start to stand up, ready to scream, “Sorry for raising my voice. I just really need to find out what happened to Jack. We need to confirm his cause of death. Can you please just answer my questions?” 

He slowly nervously said, “No, you don’t.” I stared at him with horror growing in my eyes as I said, “Why?” He didn’t flinch an inch as he spoke, “You don’t want to know. It's better if you never know,” he said. “What happened at the bridge?” I shouted. He said nothing in response other than an, ‘No.’ “I said, what happened at the bridge," I screamed.

Milo looked at me and spoke in a quiet horrified voice. “I didn’t mean for Emily to die. I just wanted her to stop.” A smile crossed his face when he said stop. I heard about Emily before she went missing a few months ago. I blankly said, “I asked about Jack, not Emily. What did you do?” 

Milo looked at me, his hands were violently shaking as he said, “She fell off too.” I immediately shouted, "You said you didn’t mean for Emily to die, how could she have fallen off if you said it was an accident on your part. Did you push them off?" 

Milo coldly said, “It was an accident on her part. It was all her.” I screamed out, “Did you really think I would believe that happened twice? Your story does not line up. You are telling me you saw two people fall off a bridge on two separate occasions. You didn't report it the first time, your mother reported it the second time after she saw him fall from across the park and it was not your fault despite claiming it was an accident.”

Milo said in return, “When I said ‘accident,’ I was talking about her; she accidentally tripped. They both died because of their mistakes. It was all them.” He slammed his hand on the desk when he said their mistakes. I didn’t argue in response. Instead, I looked off to the door as I said, “I'm leaving. I’m telling someone about this.”

Milo almost immediately ran in front of the door. He then coldly said, “You don’t want to tell anyone about our conversation.” I looked down at him. He looked angry, his small hands in fists, he had his mouth open ready to scream. I then told him, “Move.”

He didn't; instead, he just screamed. I screamed back at him, “This whole conversation is being recorded. Just calm down or—”

The door opened, and who walked through was one of my coworkers. He said, “They found another body below the bridge. We think it's Emily.” I said nothing. I just stared at Milo. Milo then said, “It was their mistake. They all had it coming. I did nothing wrong, I would do it all again if I could.” That was when I realized that Milo was not a normal kid; he was a cold-blooded killer.

I worked as a police officer. I was told that someone named Jack Dather died after falling off the town bridge. A kid in the area saw it go down. His mother was the one who reported it. I was asked to talk to the kid to confirm if it was a suicide or an accident. I believe they said his name was Milo. I was bored of always being stuck giving out speeding tickets. I jumped at the opportunity to do something different.

When I arrived, the room was cold and empty. The only thing inside was an old desk, me, and Milo sitting on the other side. I slowly sat down and said, “My name is Jacob. I am here to ask you some questions.”

Milo didn’t seem to notice me. His face was completely empty, and any sense of emotion was hollow. He had short hair. He had emerald green eyes, but the lighting made them look grey. He was short. I was told he was twelve. His height made him look eight.

After a moment to clear my voice, I softly said, “Hey, they said your name is Milo. I am here to ask you some questions about what happened today at the bridge.” Milo turned to look at me. He was still completely expressionless. His eyes blinked very slowly. He stood completely still. He was nothing like what his colorful red and orange T-shirt would suggest. 

There was no way to tell if anything was going through his mind other than static. He was as silent as a dead mouse. He barely moved; he just stood there. He just looked off into nothing. After no response, I said, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble. I just want to ask you about what happened to Jack.”

He again said nothing in response, just his cold, lifeless face tilting towards me. I waved my hand toward him and slowly said, “Is everything alright, Milo? Are you okay? Do you not feel comfortable talking about what happened today?” 

He finally broke his silence and began to slowly nod at me. I nodded back. When I looked back, he didn't stop; he just kept doing it. It was slow, almost alien how lifelessly his body moved. After nearly a minute of him nodding back and forth, he said, “Okay, what do you want?” 

I softly said in response, “When and where did you see Jack?” For a few seconds, I saw his face finally have an expression. There was a sense of fear in his eyes. Milo then looked down toward the ground as he quietly said, “I was just playing a game and I saw Jack pass by.” 

I waved my hand at him and began once again, “Was the game near the town bridge? How close were you to the bridge when the accident happened.” He said in an even quieter voice, “Yes I was playing on the bridge. I was there. I saw it happen.”  

I looked at him solemnly and a frown slowly covered my face as I spoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is such a shame someone so young had to see something so horrific.” His hands started shaking the second I stopped speaking. His hands went from completely still to moving at ungodly speed in just a few seconds. His eyes were twitching. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. 

I reached into my pocket and quickly pulled out my phone and said, “This is going to be over soon. Your mom would not have let you do this if it wasn’t safe. Everything will go back to normal when I am done asking you questions. If you feel unsafe, I can call your parents.” 

“Don’t. I'm fine answering your questions, just don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to know,” he immediately said in return. I immediately said, “Your parents already know about our conversation. Your mom was the one who reported Jack's body.” Milo froze. He stopped blinking. It was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“You aren’t in trouble, I just really need some questions answered. Your mom contacted us about you. She said she wants us to talk to you about what happened today. Are you fine answering my questions? 

His face turned to anger when his mother was mentioned. He nodded in return as I finished speaking. His hands briefly turned into fists before returning to normal. He was clearly trying to hide his frustration. I was about to ask him about it but I stopped and just stuck to what I was supposed to talk about. 

“What was Jack doing when you saw him?” Milo responded instantly, this time he didn’t hide his anger, his eyes were burning with anger, “He was being a jerk.” I snapped back with, “How?” Milo didn’t wait another second before saying, “He tried to beat me up. He did that all the time when I was alone at the park.” 

His hands slowly moved into fists. He looked as if he was ready to punch someone before switching back to his empty state. I nodded at him as I said, “How long was that before he jumped? How long was he doing that kind of thing?” 

His expression was still empty but his voice was strangely happy, even excited as he spoke, “Years, he did that to me for years. He was about to do it again before he fell.” I looked back, concerned as I said, “What was the last thing Jack did before he jumped? Did something seem off to you?” 

Milo looked back as a smile slowly began to tear open his once expressionless face. He started shaking his legs under the table not nervously but joyfully. He then said in a clear calm voice, “He tried to punch me before he fell off.” 

My concern only grew as I slowly and nervously said, “Did he slip or jump off? Did Jack die after he tripped trying to punch you?” He looked back at me, his face went into an impression of his previous emotionally empty state. He then slowly said, “Can we move on to the next question? I don’t like this one. What else do you want to know?” His hands began to shake again. His legs were still shaking under the table but this time nervously. 

I slapped my hand on the table. As I pulled my hand back, I said, this time louder, “Did he slip or jump off the bridge?” Everything about the look on Milo's face changed as I waved my hand. He stared off at the wall like I was not there. His face somehow looked less lifeless than usual but still terrified. He looked scared.

I quickly said as I saw him start to stand up, ready to scream, “Sorry for raising my voice. I just really need to find out what happened to Jack. We need to confirm his cause of death. Can you please just answer my questions?” 

He slowly nervously said, “No, you don’t.” I stared at him with horror growing in my eyes as I said, “Why?” He didn’t flinch an inch as he spoke, “You don’t want to know. It's better if you never know,” he said. “What happened at the bridge?” I shouted. He said nothing in response other than an, ‘No.’ “I said, what happened at the bridge," I screamed.

Milo looked at me and spoke in a quiet horrified voice. “I didn’t mean for Emily to die. I just wanted her to stop.” A smile crossed his face when he said stop. I heard about Emily before she went missing a few months ago. I blankly said, “I asked about Jack, not Emily. What did you do?” 

Milo looked at me, his hands were violently shaking as he said, “She fell off too.” I immediately shouted, "You said you didn’t mean for Emily to die, how could she have fallen off if you said it was an accident on your part. Did you push them off?" 

Milo coldly said, “It was an accident on her part. It was all her.” I screamed out, “Did you really think I would believe that happened twice? Your story does not line up. You are telling me you saw two people fall off a bridge on two separate occasions. You didn't report it the first time, your mother reported it the second time after she saw him fall from across the park and it was not your fault despite claiming it was an accident.”

Milo said in return, “When I said ‘accident,’ I was talking about her; she accidentally tripped. They both died because of their mistakes. It was all them.” He slammed his hand on the desk when he said their mistakes. I didn’t argue in response. Instead, I looked off to the door as I said, “I'm leaving. I’m telling someone about this.”

Milo almost immediately ran in front of the door. He then coldly said, “You don’t want to tell anyone about our conversation.” I looked down at him. He looked angry, his small hands in fists, he had his mouth open ready to scream. I then told him, “Move.”

He didn't; instead, he just screamed. I screamed back at him, “This whole conversation is being recorded. Just calm down or—”

The door opened, and who walked through was one of my coworkers. He said, “They found another body below the bridge. We think it's Emily.” I said nothing. I just stared at Milo. Milo then said, “It was their mistake. They all had it coming. I did nothing wrong, I would do it all again if I could.” That was when I realized that Milo was not a normal kid; he was a cold-blooded killer.

I worked as a police officer. I was told that someone named Jack Dather died after falling off the town bridge. A kid in the area saw it go down. His mother was the one who reported it. I was asked to talk to the kid to confirm if it was a suicide or an accident. I believe they said his name was Milo. I was bored of always being stuck giving out speeding tickets. I jumped at the opportunity to do something different.

When I arrived, the room was cold and empty. The only thing inside was an old desk, me, and Milo sitting on the other side. I slowly sat down and said, “My name is Jacob. I am here to ask you some questions.”

Milo didn’t seem to notice me. His face was completely empty, and any sense of emotion was hollow. He had short hair. He had emerald green eyes, but the lighting made them look grey. He was short. I was told he was twelve. His height made him look eight.

After a moment to clear my voice, I softly said, “Hey, they said your name is Milo. I am here to ask you some questions about what happened today at the bridge.” Milo turned to look at me. He was still completely expressionless. His eyes blinked very slowly. He stood completely still. He was nothing like what his colorful red and orange T-shirt would suggest. 

There was no way to tell if anything was going through his mind other than static. He was as silent as a dead mouse. He barely moved; he just stood there. He just looked off into nothing. After no response, I said, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble. I just want to ask you about what happened to Jack.”

He again said nothing in response, just his cold, lifeless face tilting towards me. I waved my hand toward him and slowly said, “Is everything alright, Milo? Are you okay? Do you not feel comfortable talking about what happened today?” 

He finally broke his silence and began to slowly nod at me. I nodded back. When I looked back, he didn't stop; he just kept doing it. It was slow, almost alien how lifelessly his body moved. After nearly a minute of him nodding back and forth, he said, “Okay, what do you want?” 

I softly said in response, “When and where did you see Jack?” For a few seconds, I saw his face finally have an expression. There was a sense of fear in his eyes. Milo then looked down toward the ground as he quietly said, “I was just playing a game and I saw Jack pass by.” 

I waved my hand at him and began once again, “Was the game near the town bridge? How close were you to the bridge when the accident happened.” He said in an even quieter voice, “Yes I was playing on the bridge. I was there. I saw it happen.”  

I looked at him solemnly and a frown slowly covered my face as I spoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is such a shame someone so young had to see something so horrific.” His hands started shaking the second I stopped speaking. His hands went from completely still to moving at ungodly speed in just a few seconds. His eyes were twitching. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. 

I reached into my pocket and quickly pulled out my phone and said, “This is going to be over soon. Your mom would not have let you do this if it wasn’t safe. Everything will go back to normal when I am done asking you questions. If you feel unsafe, I can call your parents.” 

“Don’t. I'm fine answering your questions, just don’t call my parents. I don’t want them to know,” he immediately said in return. I immediately said, “Your parents already know about our conversation. Your mom was the one who reported Jack's body.” Milo froze. He stopped blinking. It was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“You aren’t in trouble, I just really need some questions answered. Your mom contacted us about you. She said she wants us to talk to you about what happened today. Are you fine answering my questions? 

His face turned to anger when his mother was mentioned. He nodded in return as I finished speaking. His hands briefly turned into fists before returning to normal. He was clearly trying to hide his frustration. I was about to ask him about it but I stopped and just stuck to what I was supposed to talk about. 

“What was Jack doing when you saw him?” Milo responded instantly, this time he didn’t hide his anger, his eyes were burning with anger, “He was being a jerk.” I snapped back with, “How?” Milo didn’t wait another second before saying, “He tried to beat me up. He did that all the time when I was alone at the park.” 

His hands slowly moved into fists. He looked as if he was ready to punch someone before switching back to his empty state. I nodded at him as I said, “How long was that before he jumped? How long was he doing that kind of thing?” 

His expression was still empty but his voice was strangely happy, even excited as he spoke, “Years, he did that to me for years. He was about to do it again before he fell.” I looked back, concerned as I said, “What was the last thing Jack did before he jumped? Did something seem off to you?” 

Milo looked back as a smile slowly began to tear open his once expressionless face. He started shaking his legs under the table not nervously but joyfully. He then said in a clear calm voice, “He tried to punch me before he fell off.” 

My concern only grew as I slowly and nervously said, “Did he slip or jump off? Did Jack die after he tripped trying to punch you?” He looked back at me, his face went into an impression of his previous emotionally empty state. He then slowly said, “Can we move on to the next question? I don’t like this one. What else do you want to know?” His hands began to shake again. His legs were still shaking under the table but this time nervously. 

I slapped my hand on the table. As I pulled my hand back, I said, this time louder, “Did he slip or jump off the bridge?” Everything about the look on Milo's face changed as I waved my hand. He stared off at the wall like I was not there. His face somehow looked less lifeless than usual but still terrified. He looked scared.

I quickly said as I saw him start to stand up, ready to scream, “Sorry for raising my voice. I just really need to find out what happened to Jack. We need to confirm his cause of death. Can you please just answer my questions?” 

He slowly nervously said, “No, you don’t.” I stared at him with horror growing in my eyes as I said, “Why?” He didn’t flinch an inch as he spoke, “You don’t want to know. It's better if you never know,” he said. “What happened at the bridge?” I shouted. He said nothing in response other than an, ‘No.’ “I said, what happened at the bridge," I screamed.

Milo looked at me and spoke in a quiet horrified voice. “I didn’t mean for Emily to die. I just wanted her to stop.” A smile crossed his face when he said stop. I heard about Emily before she went missing a few months ago. I blankly said, “I asked about Jack, not Emily. What did you do?” 

Milo looked at me, his hands were violently shaking as he said, “She fell off too.” I immediately shouted, "You said you didn’t mean for Emily to die, how could she have fallen off if you said it was an accident on your part. Did you push them off?" 

Milo coldly said, “It was an accident on her part. It was all her.” I screamed out, “Did you really think I would believe that happened twice? Your story does not line up. You are telling me you saw two people fall off a bridge on two separate occasions. You didn't report it the first time, your mother reported it the second time after she saw him fall from across the park and it was not your fault despite claiming it was an accident.”

Milo said in return, “When I said ‘accident,’ I was talking about her; she accidentally tripped. They both died because of their mistakes. It was all them.” He slammed his hand on the desk when he said their mistakes. I didn’t argue in response. Instead, I looked off to the door as I said, “I'm leaving. I’m telling someone about this.”

Milo almost immediately ran in front of the door. He then coldly said, “You don’t want to tell anyone about our conversation.” I looked down at him. He looked angry, his small hands in fists, he had his mouth open ready to scream. I then told him, “Move.”

He didn't; instead, he just screamed. I screamed back at him, “This whole conversation is being recorded. Just calm down or—”

The door opened, and who walked through was one of my coworkers. He said, “They found another body below the bridge. We think it's Emily.” I said nothing. I just stared at Milo. Milo then said, “It was their mistake. They all had it coming. I did nothing wrong, I would do it all again if I could.” That was when I realized that Milo was not a normal kid; he was a cold-blooded killer.

The park was empty; not even birds live there. The area was mostly flat aside from the oak trees. The oak trees were tall and rotting with age. The sidewalk was run down. The trees were slowly overtaking the sidewalk. The tree roots pushed into the cracks helping them expand.

It was almost fully quiet. What little noise there was got drowned out by the screaming wind. Under the screaming wind was a soft sound, quiet but still there. It was too hard to make out. It was almost impossible to even hear but it was still there. 

There I stood on the sidewalk listening to the quiet sound. I was not able to tell what it was but it felt hybridizing to listen to. Once I was able to finally tell what it was, my pull towards it only increased. It was someone else's voice. It finally spoke clearly and it simply said, “You will be remembered.”

I screamed out, “Is anyone there?” I heard nothing back. I screamed out a second time, “Is anyone there? Who will remember me”  Again no response. The voice then turned into quiet whispering. Too quiet to make out a word.

I started running immediately not away but towards it. I did not know why it was probably just in my head. After a couple of minutes of running I stopped. I don’t think I just did, for that couple of minutes. My mind felt numb. I turned to look ahead of me and said under my breath, “What the hell was I doing.” There is nothing there.” I  moved back to my previous spot and I sat down on top of the rock like it was a chair. 

I looked over my shoulder as I laughed at any sense of curiosity about the voice off. My laugh felt hollow, almost as if it was not my own. I took my phone out and started listening to music. I turned on some steam punk rock. After just a few minutes of that my phone went quiet.

I had just charged it this morning. I picked it up to see that it had turned off on its own. I immediately opened it to discover that all showed on screen were glitch lines. Red and green in a repeating pattern. After a moment in confusion I just dismissed it as being old and breakable.

It was completely quiet but it did not feel quiet. It was nothing but it just felt like something was off. I always enjoy the quiet. That is why I have always enjoyed coming here. After a moment looking at the sun going down trying to act like everything was normal, I slowly resumed my walk.

Everything was normal at first but then I saw it. A trail of a black muddy substance. It looked strangely like black blood. I followed it to find on the side of the broken sidewalk was some sort of dead creature. I thought it was human at first but at a closer look. It did not look like a human or any animal I have seen before. 

Its skin was pale. The eyes were tiny compared to the creature's insane size. It was about ten feet tall and just two feet across. Its arms were long even when compared to the rest of its body. Its head was strange. The creature's ears were tiny; it was hard to tell that they were even there. It did not have a nose, just faded marks where it should be. Its legs were long and skinny. The thing had weird patterns all across its skin. It was hard to describe but it looked like the skin folding in on itself. Its mouth was close shut. For a second I did not think the thing had one because of how well its skin bled together. In its chest was the source of the black liquid.

After a moment of shock I started backing up. I could try to figure out what the thing was but that felt wrong almost as if it was wrong to know. When backing up I noticed that the black liquid  was turning blood red. I stopped in my  place before running to the park gate.

The howling wind only grew louder as I ran. The sound of my footsteps was non-existent thanks to the wind. Once I finally made it to the gate my fear only intensified. My phone was broken, I had no way to call someone  or maybe it's for the best that no one knows about what I saw. The park gate was big and wide. It was made of rusted metal. On the top was a large sign. It read as follows: “Welcome to Everwort Park.” I always hated that name. 

My thoughts got interrupted with the faint sound of the whispers returning. This time the voice was less clear. It sounded like a screaming man trying to speak, the language was unrecognizable. I immediately pulled the gate open as the thoughts of what the voice could be kicked in. The handle was slow and rusty with time.

As I entered the street I was hit with the realization that it was almost night. The moon was beginning to become visible. No one else was around. I was alone. Left to think about what just happened, no one to talk to. I did bother checking the traffic lights before walking to the other side. I just wanted to get back to my apartment where I could talk to someone.

As I reached the sidewalk that led back to my apartment I heard the same whispering that I did at the park. I froze in my place as I heard it get louder and louder. It was speaking in the same weird language as it did before, at least at first. With no warning the voice said, “Don’t fear the infinite.” The words were quiet but loud in my mind. 

I turned around to see if I was being watched. I saw no one, the whispers didn't stop, it only continued the same phrase being repeated, “Don’t fear the infinite.” I started running as the message only got louder: “Don’t fear the infinite.” My heart only beat louder and my hand began to shake as I heard another voice. Deeper but still smooth. It spoke slowly and softly, “David Woodblock.” It knew my name. 

Before I could respond I fell to my knees. It felt just like any other accident but the impact was larger because of the context. My left leg fell into a small rock forming a small blood stain on the ground. I immediately looked down to see a rock by where my foot was. As I stood up the whispering stopped and a different sound appeared, a loud ringing sound. It sounded like a screaming computer. It almost felt like static. 

I slowly turned around to see nothing. The only thing I could see was lamb lights. The ringing then stopped as soon as it appeared. I just stood there in silence waiting for what happened next. I did nothing; I could not think, could not fear, just stood there waiting for whatever made all those hunting sounds show itself. After what felt like an hour, I finally unfrozen and started to think.

I knew I was standing in the same spot for at least an hour looking in the same direction. Watching for anyone or anything. I could not recall a single thought. I just stood there rooting away trying to find out what was going on. I was alive but dead in my mind. It could have come out any second. It did not, it just watched me. I was not supposed to see whatever that thing was. I need  to leave.

The moment I began walking again the ringing returned, even louder this time. I stopped again after just walking a few feet. The sound stopped the moment I turned around. My hands began to shake as I just stood there in the dark. After a moment in panic I started walking backwards. The sound did not return, at least not at first. A few minutes later it returned. It was quiet this time but still felt more intense almost as if the intentions changed to something more wicked. 

I started speeding up as it grew louder and louder my fears did as well. It continued to get louder as I walked backwards into a wall. When I got up I turned to my left trying to find someone, it only grew louder. The sound felt violence. My ears started to physically hurt from the sound. I felt a hint of blood flow out my head from my left ear. Drops fell to my shirt staining the white fabric. 

I turned to my right side. That is when it finally stopped. There was nothing there but an old street light. I put my hand to my bleeding era as the realization of what was happening came to me. 

I turned around again and the noise came back. Then I looked back and it stopped again. I then started walking to the other side of the ally while still looking in that direction. It stayed quiet. My eyes were the key. It could not follow me as long as I looked at it. I can’t see anything but I know it there. It is trying to find me and I know how to stop it. 

Once I reached a spot where looking at it was physically impossible. I took a deep breath before I began to run. I never ran so fast in my life. I could feel the sweat drip down my face. After about twenty seconds of that the noise returned quiet again. I stopped running and I immediately turned behind me and began to look around. 

After looking in a certain spot the noise stopped once more. I was just a few blocks away from my apartment. I slowly took a step towards my apartment while still looking over there my legs were shaking with fear, my eyes tired from the consent stare. I keep looking back and forth over and over again. I was careful to make sure I progressed faster than the ringing. I could not let whatever that thing is catch up to me. 

When I was far away enough that no matter where I looked I couldn’t hear it, I started to run again in hopes I could finally escape it.  When I finally made it to my apartment building I immediately opened the door and ran inside. 

The ringing did not return. A small smile crossed my face as I ran towards the elevator. This time it felt like my own. I quickly pressed the button. After what felt like an hour the door opened. I just slowly went inside as the dreaded ringing returned. It was quiet, barely noticeable but still there. I scream as the elevator closes. I heard nothing back other than the sound growing louder.

Then things went quiet as the elevator began to move up. I heard nothing other than my own breathing. The pain in my ears still refuses to stop. I just stood there in silence. I blacked out doing the rest of the ride up. All I remember was the elevator door opening back up again.

I immediately ran into the hall trying to find someone. No one was out. I was still alone. I tried to scream but I froze when I heard the disgusting ringing return. This time it did not wait to get loud and violent. My ears began to bleed once more.

I ran into my apartment without thinking. It was small, a tiny kitchen in the center and a small bathroom and room to sleep in. The apartment was all I had to hide in. I immediately grabbed my chair out from the kitchen and put it against the door. After that I grabbed a stack of books I had left on my desk. Then I grabbed my entire desk.

I looked down to the floor to see the blood flowing out my ears, turning the floor carpet blood red. The ringing then immediately got quiet as fast as it came back. I started walking backwards, still looking at the same spot.

After a short moment of walking to the other side of my room. I heard a loud bang by my door or at least I think it was loud, it was becoming hard to tell with my bloody ears. It sounded more like a scream than anything. The door then slowly opened as the ringing came back. All the stuff that blocked the door was violently knocked down like it was never there. 

On the other side of my door was the dead body of my neighbor. His eyes were ripped out of his skull. The rest of his body was untouched. The insides of his head was visible from the hole that was once his eye. His brain was also mostly untouched aside from the parts attached to his eyes. It was only his eyes. That thing had taken his eyes. I had no time to process that as the ringing stopped and more screaming came from down the hall. 

I immediately ran back to my room as everything went quiet. I then stopped dead in my tracks as I saw the window open. I kept looking over as I tried to slowly walk out. I then heard a thud behind me and began to turn around. Behind me was another one of my neighbors dead. 

Her eyes were ripped out of her skull as well, but this time there was more blood coming out the hole it was clearly pulled out with more force. Her clothes were blood red. Her face was lifeless and sad. She looked like she died just seconds ago.

Then the ringing stopped and the voice returned. The voice was barely above a whisper. It sounded smooth, almost as if it came from a human. It simply said, “Don’t fear the infinite.” Every single door opened as soon as the voice stopped. The dead bodies of the rest of my neighbors fell out of each room one by one. All of their eyes were missing.

That is when it finally stopped. Whatever was chasing me had given up. I was alone and alive. I did nothing other than stand in place looking at what remained of my neighbors. Behind me a door slammed open. I turned around to see a police officer at the other end of the hall. 

He screamed out, “Hands in the air.” That was when I realized everyone is going to think that I was the one who killed them if I can’t prove that thing existed. I need to find it again or face the consequences.