Cloud of Doubt

Evelyn: Going to sleep now. Have fun at work! Love you.

Paul stared at this particular message on his phone. He was supposed to be working, but nobody really checks on logistics until something goes wrong. The thing he loved about his job was that he did not really have to care. He would do work sometimes, but mostly he would be left on his own.

Paul: Alright, sweet dreams. Talk to you soon.

<Recieved August 12>

Paul had been uneasy about Evelyn. Something seemed off. She was more distant lately, and he suspected that she lied occasionally about when she was sleeping. He had no proof, however- just a feeling.

You could always check. His own voice echoed in his mind. He certainly had the ability to, but he swore never to use them on Evelyn. Paul shook his head.

Paul stared into the light of his computer screen. His work was too dull to distract him from his problems for long, but there was something else which could. Paul navigated to the right excel document and opened it.


Whether Evelyn was in fact cheating on him or not was out of his control. He would have to trust her, until something happened which indicated otherwise. What he could do was to find a way to trap the Angel. The Angel of Death. It was a copycat, a self-proclaimed arbiter of justice. It needed to be stopped.

The Angel of Death had gained quite a bit of notoriety recently. It had garnered an almost cult-like following from the more religious sects in town. Churches were claiming that god had killed the Boogieman, and was here to dish out true justice. Even the non-religious supported it due to the high-profile nature of its kills. Where Paul only killed where justice had failed, it seemed that the Angel thinks itself as an enforcer of righteousness. It attacked those whom were disliked in the community, and it was merciless. None were spared.

Paul had been using an excel file to track the Angel. He had written notes, observations, thoughts, and logs of every appearance of the Angel. He carefully detailed reports of how the victims were killed and various other evidence, hoping to find a pattern. He had been waiting. Waiting for the Angel to leave something which compromised its identity. Waiting for an opportunity to confront it.

Beep beep. beep beep. Paul quickly silenced his watch indicating the end of the workday. 5pm. Finally.

“See ya tomorrow Alex, Tom.” Paul waved nonchalantly as his colleagues from sales eyed him with envy. Sales was much more demanding. They were never able to leave on the dot.

As he walked out of the office, a buzz from his phone alerted him. Paul carefully picked it out as he made his way to the bus.

3 Updates available

Paul grunted as he moved to slide his phone back in his pocket when something caught his eye.

Local Priest accused of abuse: victims stand against Reverend Gill Tee

Paul looked at the clock. 5:05pm. He could make it.

Hiding some of his belongings in a bush nearby, Paul relaxed and allowed himself to shift forms. While the street was busy, Paul was hidden. The sun was ebbing, and the night was beginning. Paul took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Paul exhaled.

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