Mystery Keychain
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A new type of “monster” began to appear in the area. They were almost human, but they had a strange aura about them that made it hard for people to approach them; some people even said these monsters gave off an evil feeling. The monsters appeared throughout the city and brought terror with them wherever they went. People who came across them would be terrified by their appearance and run away screaming. The monsters seemed uninterested in pursuing the fleeing humans, however, and instead moved on to other victims as soon as possible.
The police investigated this phenomenon, but no leads emerged from any of their investigations. After many days, the monster sightings finally stopped altogether. With all those people having left the city, traffic volume increased significantly, which resulted in a massive influx of money into the local economy. It was then discovered that the monsters had been hiding in plain sight the entire time, just waiting until they could move on without being noticed. These creatures were actually aliens. Their race possessed exceptional intelligence and unusual powers—powers capable of overwhelming us mere humans. To them, we were like insects or bacteria, nothing more than prey animals.
In one of my recent cases, I encountered something similar to this creature. A group of alien criminals escaped from prison. They were led by a man named Eric Gorman, who was also known as “the Black Hand.” He wore black gloves on each hand because he found his skin irritated when he removed them. His hands were covered in tattoos, including one that depicted a demon’s face; this was supposed to be a symbol of some kind of dark power, but it looked like a caricature of a cartoon character to me. I didn’t believe in such things, but there are lots of people out there who do.
One night, Mr. Gorman and his cohorts broke into a large apartment complex to steal a valuable object. To make sure no one interrupted him, Mr. Gorman used a stun grenade. The blast caused a fire that spread quickly through the building; the flames consumed dozens of apartments before they were finally contained. All told, it claimed the lives of eleven residents, along with several firefighters who arrived too late. One of the survivors was Mrs. Annabelle Fiske, an elderly woman who lived alone in one of the upper floor units. She managed to escape the blaze unharmed thanks to her familiarity with the layout of her home, but she sustained severe burns as a result of inhaling smoke.
Mrs. Fiske filed a lawsuit against the city of New York. In exchange for reparations, she allowed the government to conduct an investigation into the circumstances surrounding the incident. Although the official story was that the fire began accidentally due to faulty wiring, Mrs. Fiske maintained that it had been set deliberately by the arsonists. To back up her claim, she produced various pieces of evidence: a picture of a charred book on her desk; a piece of melted metal from the ceiling fan; and a small amount of blood found on the kitchen countertop. Much to everyone’s surprise, these items turned out to have no connection whatsoever to the fire. Even the most skeptical investigators couldn’t explain how the blood got there.
It was obvious the government had nothing worthwhile to offer Mrs. Fiske, so they agreed to settle the matter. Instead of going through a lengthy legal battle, the two parties signed a mutual non-disclosure agreement and agreed not to discuss what happened at the scene of the crime. This way, nobody would know whether it was the aliens or the criminals who committed the murders.
But as far as I’m concerned, the answer is clear. The aliens had nothing to do with the deaths of the victims. Why? Because aliens don’t kill people. No aliens killed anyone that day. That much should be apparent. We were dealing with human beings, just like you and me. But humans can be pretty dumb sometimes. As we learned from our recent encounter with Eric Gorman and his associates, humans are capable of committing horrible acts of violence if given the opportunity. And who better to provide an opportunity than someone who already has a criminal record?
Mr. Gorman was a smart guy. He knew that alien law enforcement officials would be interested in the incident, so he arranged to meet with me. We met in a bar near Central Park. I was impressed by his ability to blend in. If people hadn’t seen him commit his crimes, they probably wouldn’t have recognized him. When I confronted him with all the evidence I’d collected, Mr. Gorman admitted that he was indeed responsible for the fire. He apologized profusely, saying that it was all a misunderstanding. Apparently, he simply wanted to collect a little insurance money and retire early to some remote corner of the universe where humans couldn’t bother him anymore. In exchange for his cooperation, I promised to help him disappear. He made me a deal. I needed to find a place for him where he could live in peace. It was important to him that the new location be kept secret, so he didn’t want any humans involved in the process.
I did my best to accommodate his request. After a thorough search, I located a region of space that seemed suitable. We flew there in a spaceship piloted by a remote AI. Once we arrived, Mr. Gorman settled in without incident. Several months later, I received a communication from him asking me to retrieve a letter from his desk. It was addressed to his old friend, Harry Houdini, who had passed away decades earlier. The letter was written in a code. Mr. Gorman wanted me to translate it.
The code was fairly simple. It consisted of three words in English, followed by twenty-two symbols. I decoded the message using software and discovered that it referred to a comet that would pass close to Earth. The comet was named Comet X. At first, I thought it was a hoax, but the next time I checked the sky, I saw a tiny dot moving across the stars. It was headed toward us.
At first, I wasn’t too worried about this particular comet. While it appeared harmless enough, it was traveling at over seventy thousand miles per hour. With such a high velocity, it could easily cause a lot of damage if it hit something. However, after checking the astronomy charts, I discovered that it would miss the planet by thousands of miles. I immediately sent a distress signal to NASA and waited patiently until they responded. They assured me that everything would be okay. I didn’t believe them, but they certainly sounded convincing. Besides, there was nothing else I could do.
A few days later, Comet X entered orbit around Venus. Its path crossed ours. A few months later, I received a strange radio transmission. It was in the form of a song. I listened carefully, hoping to hear Mr. Gorman’s voice, but the only thing I heard was a woman singing. The tune was haunting and beautiful, filled with sadness and longing.
The woman sang a love ballad. She seemed to be calling out to her lost lover. I wondered if she was referring to Mr. Gorman, and if so, why? Was she alive somewhere? Or perhaps dead and buried on Earth, waiting for him to return? I tried to imagine how the two of them might have felt when they were together. Did they kiss? Did they laugh? What did they talk about? I couldn’t remember. All I really knew was that the man was kind to everyone he encountered. He treated everybody with respect and never forgot to say please and thank you.
It took me years to get used to being alone again. It was difficult at first to adjust to life without Mr. Gorman. I didn’t know what to make of my own existence. I missed him terribly. In the end, I decided to write him a letter, telling him everything I’d done since he left. I hoped it would reach him somehow. I prayed that he would understand. I asked God to take care of him wherever he was, and I promised myself that one day, I would find him.
The End