Chapter 2 Charles And Sharlec

"What's going on here, Detective Brand?" Officer Dylan stared at his senior colleague in bewilderment.

Truth be told, Brand didn't understand it either. In all his years on the force, he'd never encountered anything this bizarre.

"Forget about that for now. Let's check the crime scene. If we've arrested the wrong man, we can apologize later. Right now, our priority is bringing the real perpetrator to justice!"

With that, Brand slammed on the brakes and hurried with Dylan into the crime scene.

Meanwhile, back in the interrogation room at the Burmington Police Department.

Charles continued his rambling monologue.

"Yes, yes! A single crime could never satisfy the growing bloodlust in Sharlec's heart. He'll definitely seek new targets. Let me think... young women shopping on New Star Avenue? Or perhaps those hurried office workers? No, killing such people presents no challenge for him. He craves excitement—the thrill of escaping, or even mocking the police!"

In his trance-like state, Charles seemed to form some kind of resonance with the character from his writing. Whispers began to echo around him.

Charles snapped back to awareness. His brain felt like it was expanding, as if massive streams of information were pouring into his consciousness.

He glimpsed an ancient yet ornately decorated door materializing before him. As he continued creating his story, the door slowly began to open.

...

"Sir, it's hopeless. The perpetrator was too clean this time—not a single clue left behind," Dylan said, crouching to examine the ground with a magnifying glass.

Brand fumed, "That's impossible! The surveillance camera captured him clearly!"

Dylan stood up with a sigh. "New Star Avenue is Burmington's busiest commercial street with thousands of people passing through daily. Seeing someone who resembles Charles wouldn't be that unusual."

"No!" Brand pulled out his tablet, pointing emphatically at the screen. "I would never mistake him! Only he has that expression—that genetic arrogance only born criminals possess!"

...

"No! What am I thinking?" Charles jerked back to awareness. The strange door vanished from his sight.

"If characters from my stories are actually entering the real world to commit crimes, then continuing to write would make me an accomplice!"

"This can't be right. I'm just creating stories—I don't want to kill anyone!"

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. Then he whispered, "Just as the police were at a loss, an anonymous witness provided a crucial lead. He had observed the entire crime and clearly told the older officer which direction the perpetrator had fled."

After saying this, Charles collapsed back in his chair as if all energy had drained from his body.

"That should do it. Less than ten minutes have passed since the crime was reported. Sharlec can't have gone far. I hope Detective Brand apprehends him quickly."

"It'll be strange to face a character from my own writing in this interrogation room."

...

While Brand and Dylan were still puzzling over how to proceed with the investigation, an ice cream vendor in a modified food truck slowly pulled up in front of them. "Officers!"

"No thanks," Brand waved the vendor away, gesturing for him to leave.

But the vendor leaned forward conspiratorially. "Officer, I have firsthand information about the murder. Are you interested?"

"What?" Brand froze, then his expression hardened. "Hand it over. Now!"

The vendor, startled by his intensity, quickly backed away. "Wait, officer! As you can see, I'm just a small businessman. I'm risking my life giving you this information. Maybe you should give me some... well, reward?"

"Typical merchant mentality. This is why I despise people like you." Brand glared at him before reaching for his pocket, only to discover he'd forgotten his wallet.

Reluctantly, he signaled to Dylan with his eyes.

Dylan smiled politely and handed the vendor several bills.

The vendor, satisfied, promptly handed over his phone.

The phone contained another video. It appeared to have been recorded from beside the food truck, the image shaky and somewhat blurred.

Yet Brand could clearly identify the killer of those innocent bystanders as none other than Charles.

"I knew it was him!"

The footage didn't end there. The ice cream vendor had not only captured the entire crime but also the direction in which the perpetrator fled.

Without hesitation, Brand and Dylan raced off in pursuit.

...

Heavy footsteps approached the interrogation room.

Charles felt disoriented, his head throbbing with pain and dizziness. Bizarre images flickered before his eyes.

He saw gray-skinned, misshapen aliens.

Witnessed ghastly, ethereal ghosts.

Glimpsed werewolves howling under moonlight, and mysterious vampires with razor-sharp fangs lurking in the shadows.

The interrogation room door opened quietly.

The visitor revealed only half his body, keeping his face concealed in darkness.

"Hello, Charles. I believe this is our first meeting? Though in your mind, you probably think you know everything about me."

"After all, I am you—or rather, a projection of your inner self."

Charles's body tensed at these words.

After a moment's hesitation, he uttered the name. "You're Sharlec."

"Sharlec? Yeah, right. Rearrange the letters in 'Charles' and you get 'Sharlec.' You were quite careful to avoid sharing a name with that famous detective."

"Are you here to kill me?" Charles's expression returned to its eerie calmness.

Since his parents' deaths, he had found the real world painfully dull. Only when immersed in the mental realm did he feel truly alive.

Now, a character from his writing had come to life and stood before him, seemingly intent on taking his life.

He laughed bitterly. "Being killed by a fictional character I created myself—probably a first in history."

Sharlec pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand and sighed softly. "Killing you would be interesting, but that's not my intention."

"Why not? Don't you want the perfect crime? Killing your creator in an interrogation room, then assuming his identity to live a new life? No one would suspect you. They'd only assume that the vicious criminal Charles Jones committed suicide due to unbearable guilt!"

Sharlec listened patiently to Charles's words. He paused before responding, "Those traits were given to me by you, but I have my own thoughts."

"Answer me one question, Charles: What makes you so certain that your world is the real one?"

As he spoke, the ancient door that had previously vanished reappeared before Charles.

Sharlec stood at the threshold, bathed in light streaming from within as the door cracked open.

Charles instinctively narrowed his eyes. Then he heard Sharlec's whisper, "Step inside and see. Only then will you understand what the true reality looks like."