My smoke blends in with the dull paper thin sky of dawn,  it peers down at me with a bit more irritance than normal, I can tell today will be yet another chapter in my world of unsolvable cases. I walk upon the latest murder scene, the body already covered in a shroud, a simple handgun lying a few inches away from the body, camera’s from evidence still flash into the dark alleyway. Letting out another smoke filled breath I stick my hands into my pockets wishing a jolt of surprise would fall over me when my eyes fall over the dead bodies, and yet nothing comes. No jolt, no rush of blood to my face, no stomach turned uneasy- ah where have the good old days where emotions of grief and toil would beat my heart with each death in my city! The drive to catch those responsible fueled my every thought, my every breath! And now what have I been reduced to? A man with only one cigarette left in his pocket waiting for another smoke that will match the color of the sky.
“Cornelius!” at the shout of my name, my lips loosen around my cigarette letting it fall to the concrete floor stomping out what little life it has left. I turn finding my superior, R.J Walton, waiting for my attention.
“Yes, Sir?”
“Cornelius”, again he motions me over with a wave of his hand, I obediently follow in suit coming to his side, “the guys from the DA already have too much on their plate.” He shakes his head with a heavy sigh, I watch intently wondering if he still is in touch with those emotions of grief I seem to have lost. “We’re going to call it a suicide, son.” He pats my back, “easiest thing to do in a case like this. Clear it all up before too many questions are asked.”
I stare a moment at my superior, a moment ago all feeling had been removed from my body, but now- now I was being told the impossible. Lie about a case. Lie!? “But Sir, were there any signs of a suicide in this case?” I look back over at the unmoving body hoping R.J will correct me, tell me that we have evidence of a suicide rather than the PD making it up to cut the case early, “Surly- Surly, Sir… there has to be more to this death then that!”
I watch the way his head shakes, “No Cornelius, it’s a suicide, son.”
“You’re telling me he shot himself?”
“Yes Cornelius, a suicide…” His eyes look me up and down, he seems hesitant to speak again but finds it necessary to do so, “It was a suicide. Don’t look at the body, Cornelius. A Suicide... That is the story, go along with it.” Again he pats me shoulder, with a gleam in his eye and a sickening sweet smile R.J tips his hat, leaving me to stare while he walks back to the other members of the team. I was threatened. What day this has turned out to be- first I’m told to lie about a case and then threatened for asking questions. No threat would uttered if a case had evidence, truth to back up the words of my superior, and yet I received an underhanded threat.  
“Cornelius!” I lift my head to see R.J once again calling for me. “Come on, we’re heading back to the office. Time to go to work!” I nodded, a dark cold feeling dancing along my spine as I follow R.J, who was the corpse that lied in the alley?
Never in all my years had I felt a greater darkness fall upon me, this was twisted into a nightmare beyond my realm of belief. Someone’s life was taken, and I as an officer of the law have the responsibility to serve that person justice. When we arrived back to the office I was able to snag the folder from our most recent “closed” cased, I decided that I would reopen it if no one else would. I look over the pictures taken at the scene, the file report, the confirmation of death- each missing a vital piece of evidence. The name of the victim. He was undefined, no picture bore his face, no slip of paper held his signature, but there has to be a way to find out who this man is. If I know who he is then I can learn his background, and with his background his motives, and then and only then can I name a suspect. I need a name, an identity. Someone died today, that means someone is missing a husband, a brother, a son. And in case of a missing person they would have to file a report!  I stand feeling a sense of accomplishment, all I have to do is find a man that went missing in the past day. Hopefully there would not be many and I could start to narrow my choices down till I knew who was the victim. I open the file for missing person reports and find the date, but there is no reports filed. None for months- years even! Dread seeps into my mind beating against my skull, this cannot be it, there has to be a way to bring justice to the innocent dead!
My mind races back to the photos taken in the alley, the weapon of murder was pictures alongside the body. A handgun- and all weapons must be filed as evidence, even for cases that claims suicide! I bound to the evidence locker praying something will be found inside, instead I meet emptiness. Not only is the handgun nowhere to be seen but the locker is bare. My shoulders slump, I’m suddenly reminded of the single cigarette left in my pocket, I drag my feet outside and light it up for a smoke.
“Do you remember the Wayne’s?” I nearly jump at the sound of the voice but turn to see R.J leaning against the dusted brick breathing in a cigare. “Or perhaps the Allen’s?”
“No Sir,” I clear my throat, “no, those names don’t sound familiar.”
R.J nods his head watching his hands, “They’re unsolved cases, that’s why.” His eyes pierce into mine quickly leaving the view of his hands, “They’re cases that were made to never be solved… Cornelius, stop chasing this case.”
“Sir, I disagree, we can solve a case, I know we can! We just need more information! A name for the victim, the weapon of murder!”
“And what good will that do?” His voice snaps back at mine in more of a snarl, I freeze focusing on how still we both have become. “Listen, Cornelius… Sometimes death has to occur. Sometimes that’s how heroes are born. That’s how it’s written… and we, well we just follow the story.” He puts out his cigar with a sigh barley having started smoking any of it, “for your sake Cornelius, just follow the story.”  
Once again R.J leaves me alone in the silence. I squint up at the sky watching each breath of smoke disappear perfectly into the sky, when did the world run out of colors to paint with? Why was the gray of the clouds the same as the gray of the smoke? Or the gray of my coat? Had God as my artest run out of colors to paint with? Had He placed me in world of injustice, a place where evidence is not stored, crimes are not solved, the innocent remain guilty! My heart begins to race as I take another look at the sky- the paper thin sky! It was not God that abandoned me here, nor was it God that was my creator! No- instead I was made- I was written- and perhaps my will that I believed I had was not even my own! No it couldn’t be! “I know you’re out there-!” The sound of my heart filled my ears as I shouted to the empty space surrounding me, “show yourself, the man who drew me- who colored in every line- who gave me a name and this job- this life in which I hold no power!”
A slow clap came from the corner, the figure stepped forward his hands still clapping together. “Very good, Cornelius, very smart indeed… perhaps I should have written you with less of a mind.” the faint smirk of the man, his sparkling white teeth glow from the dark shadow being the only visible aspect of my creator. “Self awareness is a dangerous thing, Cornelius. R.J tried to warn you of course, but you had to ask questions.” A low bellowing laugh slips through the thin air chilling my bones.
“How can you, a man that prides himself on being a creator give no justice to the dead? You murder the innocent!”
“Now, now. No need to get so angry… You see, I have a plan in motion. That man that died will one day serve as great inspiration to a hero.”
My brows furrow in something of confusion, “But then who killed the man? There was a gun there- was it suicide?”
“Tsk, of course not. He didn’t kill himself!”
“Then who is the killer?”
The pearly teeth grin, “Well I suppose you could say I did, Cornelius. I wrote the gun into existence, I let it fire… in fact I never myself named a murder for the young man’s death.”
“Then- then you claim responsibility?”
I watch as he nods, “Yes, I suppose I do.”
“Then you Sir are under arrest for murder!”
His chilling laugh whips through the air, “I am amused, Cornelius but you cannot arrest me. What do you think that will do?
“It will bring justice to the innocent man!” I reach for the handcuffs on the back of my belt but when I reach for them they are not there. I feel around for them but fail to find them.
“Oh Cornelius… when will you learn, I am your creator. I hold no fault here.”
“I-” I stammer feeling anger rise within me, “I demand justice! I demand a killer- I demand a case I can solve!”
The grin disappears from the figure leaving me to wonder what thoughts racked the mind of the madman, “You wish for a case to solve? A murder to be brought to justice?”
“Yes. Yes, that is what I demand of you!”
Silence fills the space until a cold voice comes creeping from the figure, “very well.” His fingers snap, a gun appearing in my hand as his laughter flows into my ears, “They will bring you to justice, Cornelius!” I shutter away in fear trying to drop the weapon but it sticks into my hand, the base of the gun fitting in my palm like a glove, “You wished for a murderer, and I have chosen you!” His laughter blends with my terror, men from inside the PD rush from the side door surrounding me- I helpless look to my creator hoping he will feel pity for me but instead he turns and begins to walk away leaving me with my doomed fate. His laughter follows him out the alley his soft voice echoing his simple instructions against the wall, “You should’ve gone along with the story, Cornelius… you should have gone with what was written.”