MidReal Story
Unraveling Shadows: The Detective's Hidden Truth
Scenario: a detective with a multi personality disorder solving a murder case which he committed but didnt know that he had multi personality disorder
Create my version of this story
I’m John Smith, and I’ve been a detective for the last ten years.
I’ve been in the force for eighteen years, and I’m known as the guy who can solve any case.
I don’t have anything really special about me, except maybe for my memory or my ability to read people.
Well, that’s what I used to think.
It was a normal day like any other day.
I came home after a long day at work and had a few drinks.
I don’t remember how many it was, but it was a lot because I was trying to find a way to make the memories of today go away.
But when I woke up, I was in a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from.
I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was my hands.
They were covered in blood.
As soon as my eyes focused, I could see blood all over them.
My head shot up, and I looked around trying to regain some bearings.
At first, everything was blurry, but as soon as I focused on my hand again, my vision cleared.
And that’s when I saw it.
A dismembered body lay in my bathtub, with blood pouring out of the open wounds, like it was some kind of grotesque fountain display.
I shot up from the couch, stumbling back into a small table behind me.
Knocking it over, my eyes never left the sight of horror before me.
My heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest at any moment.
My mind was completely blank as if the only thing functioning right now was my heart and eyes.
All of this is blood?
The entire room was covered in blood.
The walls were painted red, and there was even some on the ceiling!
Disbelief washed over me.
It seemed impossible to have so much blood in one body, and yet here it was, an entire room covered in it!
What is happening?
What the hell happened?
It took me a good few minutes to snap out of this daze and try to think logically about what happened.
The first question that popped into my head was, “Did I do this?
But this was absurd.
I could never do something like this.
I might be a police officer, but that doesn’t mean I’m a saint.
Everyone has skeletons in their closets, but to murder someone?
There’s no way!
The victim’s face was covered by a plastic bag so they couldn’t see them.
There was no way to know if it was a male or female.
But the way that the body was laid out in the tub, with the blood pouring out of each open wound, it was clear that the killer had done this with great precision.
They would have had to plan this meticulously.
I felt a shiver run down my spine.
That was not something I wanted to think about.
It was much more likely that there was another explanation for what was happening.
This had to be some kind of nightmare.
I had to have passed out on the couch and now I’m hallucinating or dreaming about this.
But I’ve never had a dream this vivid before.
But no matter what, there was one thing that would never change.
I’m a detective, and this is a crime scene.
My hands were clenched tightly at my sides as I tried to keep from getting any blood on me.
This is the first rule of a detective: never contaminate a crime scene.
But what should I do next?
If the killer was me, what should I do?
Should I run away?
Turn myself in?
Or should I try to solve this case?
If I didn’t do this, then my job as a detective is to find out who did and bring them to justice!
But how do you investigate when you are the main suspect?
How can you maintain your professionalism when your own hands are covered in blood?
This is not easy for me, and it’s not fair either.
As all these thoughts raced through my head, my detective instincts kicked in and they helped me get a hold of myself.
I walked over to the sink.
I had to get the blood off my hands first.
It was hard for me to keep from gagging when I saw myself in the mirror.
My face was pale, and my eyes were wide open.
I quickly turned on the faucet and started to scrub my hands clean.
Every time the blood started to wash away, more would replace it.
But as I was washing my hands, something caught my eye.
There was a small area of the faucet that was untouched by the water.
It was right at the handle.
When I looked closer, it was clear that it was a bloody fingerprint.
I could see the lines of the fingerprint clearly.
This could be a key piece of evidence!
I grabbed a piece of paper from the counter and carefully blotted the area with the fingerprint.
I had to be careful not to move my hands too much or the paper would get wet.
The last thing I wanted was for this to be ruined.
When the fingerprint was on the paper, it was clear that it was small and slender.
This could be important information to help us catch the killer!
But how did it get here?
Was it mine?
I immediately thought about how this could have happened.
The killer must have turned on the water.
When they were finished with whatever they were doing, they must have turned off the water.
But if that was the case, how did the blood get all over my hands?
I finished cleaning my hands and set down the paper with the bloody fingerprint.
I needed to sit down and figure out what was happening here.
Why was there a dead body in my bathtub?
And how did all this blood get everywhere?
I tried to force myself to remember anything from last night.
Did someone come over?
Was there a fight?
The only thing I could remember was sitting down on the couch with a bottle of whiskey.
I might have had a little too much to drink, but that should not have caused me to black out like this.
And even if it did, how did this much time pass?
How did this happen without me knowing?
I couldn’t remember anything after sitting down with my drink.
Had something happened?
Was this some kind of crazy nightmare?
But no matter how hard I tried, nothing came back to me.
This is so frustrating!
How am I supposed to solve this case when my memory is missing?
Now there was only one thing left to do.
I needed to call for backup.
But before I could do anything else, my phone started ringing again.
I looked down and saw that it was Emily calling.
I knew that she would be expecting me to come in to work soon.
But there was no way that she could see this!
I quickly picked up the phone and silenced it.
As soon as I did, her name flashed across the screen.
She must have called more than once.
But she would just keep calling if I didn’t answer.
I had to pick up, but there was no way that she could see this!
I hesitated for a moment, trying to decide what to do.
If she thought that something was wrong, she might come over.
But if she came over and saw this…
The phone just kept ringing.
I had to do something!
I had no choice but to pick up the phone and try to sound normal.
“Hey Emily,” I said as casually as possible.
“What’s up?”
There was a moment of silence before she spoke again.
“Where have you been?”
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning.”
Her voice sounded more serious now.
“Is everything okay?”
My heart sank at her question.
I knew that something like this would happen, but what could I say to her?
She knew me too well.
There was no way that she would believe me if I told her everything was fine now.
But what was I supposed to do?
I wanted to tell her everything and let someone help me with this crazy situation.
But at the same time, there was no way that she could see what I just saw in my bathroom!
I couldn’t let her see that!
The thought of her finding out about this made me feel sick all over again.
“No,” I said quickly as I tried to think of something else to say.
“I’m just tired.”
My voice felt hollow as the words left my mouth.
I didn’t want to lie to her like this, but what other choice did I have?
“Oh no,” she said sympathetically.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“It’s probably just a headache,” I said quickly as I tried to keep from breaking down.
“I think I had too much to drink last night.”
