Identity. Tugging my bag onto the shoulder of my ironed blue uniform, I set off towards the crime scene.

Tugging my bag onto the shoulder of my ironed blue uniform, I set off towards the crime scene. It was like I was in an oven, the sun’s rays beaming down on me and no breeze to refresh its warmth. I slowly trudged up to the old stairs of a quaint looking house, the crime scene. Ducking under the yellow tape, I showed my id allowing me to enter past a pair of muscly officers doubling up as bodyguards. As I entered, my boss, Chief Rancy, came to greet me, his hairy hand meeting mine and awkwardly thrashing it up and down through the stale air. Enthusiastically, I scooped up a small metal object and a brush, “So just get the fingerprints from over there, right?”  I questioned. He nodded, marching off along the creaking floors. I began to brush a fine dust onto the knife and windowsills violently before hovering over and pressing the button of the data machine to start scanning. The results were inconclusive except for just one fingerprint. But there was something even more unusual about this case, it was like someone was watching me. All of the murders had occurred exactly an hour after I went to bed each night which did in fact vary depending on the day of work. Until now work had been the most important thing to me, I had wanted to become a highly respected officer, but this case had seemed more like it was pulling me down rather than raising me up in the field of police and detective work.

The final results were in and these were more than just estimates of murder timing, these were fingerprints that could prove anyone of murder. Nervously, I unsealed the envelope, a mountain of paperwork dancing out and onto my desk. I took a deep breath and peered at the results, the murderer could be anywhere and anyone. Me. It was me. My thoughts started to jostle around in my head, “I didn’t touch the the knife. How. How. How! I didn’t murder anyone and now they’ll think it’s me. I’ll lose my job. I must hide, hide, hide, hide!” I began to rip the case papers off my wall viciously rubbing off the notes on my white board. My co-worker, Andrew, frowned at the sight but was not game enough to interrupt and just continued to walk by. Breaking all of the rules on my contract, I grabbed the papers and tore them into little tiny chunks of paper. The pieces were small enough so that the words were not visible, but my work wasn’t finished.

I rushed to Chief Rancy’s desk scribbling down a note, I would have to work late. Without hesitation I continued my mission, entering the lab, however now the night shift had begun, and these people did not know me. “Andrew?” one of the detectives asked, puzzled.

I shook my head, “No, Katil,” I replied. So, avoiding eye contact, I logged onto the fingerprint scanner deleting all records of any fingerprints. It beeped in response to this, but I ignored it not noticing the warning on the screen.  Hastily, I ran to my desk peering at the small clock that sat in the corner of the room, it was 10 o’clock. Suddenly, it felt like something was holding Katil, me, inside pushing him away and arising to the surface. Katil began to disappear, my memories now faded and new ones arose. I remembered holding a knife and rope, sneaking into the house where the murders had taken place. Sam. I was Sam. Footprints echoed through my mind; someone was coming. I pulled the gun from my pocket and shot. Chief Rancy was down.