Steam Community :: Sofa King

42.4 hrs on record (32.1 hrs at review time)

"Murder in progress."

The thrift store police scanner crackled underneath my waterlogged coat. The rain had been pouring for nearly an hour, yet in the Metropolitan, even on St. John's Island, you have to keep moving. The city never truly sleeps - opts to limp through it all, a half-awake stupor for eternity. I managed to piece together an address from the cheap radio, obscured by the static of wear and the noise of today. And just my luck, only a block away: 301 Everett Heights.

Every street here is like a person: every step you plant never just reaches solid ground. If not puddles from the rain, then garbage left behind by others. There is always a layer to push through to reach the truth. I rush down the street to the apartment complex. I am acquainted with these streets, know enough about them - but everyone has gotten with them, so I try my best not to catch anything.

I reach the apartment in short order, rushing up to the third floor landing while ignoring the smell - ground floors always reek this side of the city. The crime scene was in the only apartment on the third floor. I kicked down the door - already had momentum, quicker this way - and pulled my truncheon out of my coat. I heard a shout from the other room - "WHO'S THERE!?" - and the rapid encroaching of footsteps my way. The television was the only source of light in the room, and I waited in the entrance hall until the suspect eclipsed it.

Ready - I held the truncheon above my head -
steady - the steps came near, the silhouette grew -

I swung down as hard as I could. My jacket, still waterlogged, added extra weight to the strike, I'd like to think. The silhouette shrunk back but did not fall. I readied myself, but didn't bother with steadying. I slammed down again certain that it would be the last strike, yet he would not fall. I felt the suggestion of a punch just inches from my head. One final swing - three strikes for sure.

Slam. Out. Cold. Common but excruciating procedure. The television cackled maniacally, the sole audience of the proceedings. I let out a sigh and pulled out handcuffs from my pocket. Snug and secure for the villain of the day - only the best. I pulled out the wallet to identify him, only to focus first on one detail.

302 Everett Heights.

The crime scene was on the other side of the building. I entered the wrong apartment. I assaulted the wrong man. I detained a complete bystander.

I turned on the lights and was greeted with a messy yet crime-free home. I was stunned and ashamed, and I knew that apologies will never ease the headache of blunt force trauma. I wiped down the wallet and moved back to the man. I think about the cameras leading to the apartment - was my head low enough when I ran through? Crouching down, I cautiously placed the wallet back in the pocket. It was time for me to leave - forget the crime and just hide somewhere for the time being, I had done far too much.

An actual experience I had with this game - makes me realize just how awful I would be as an actual detective. The most fun I ever had even when I mess up to a baffling extent.

Posted 21 November, 2023. Last edited 21 November, 2023.

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