The diary of a detective, a fictional tale

The diary of a detective, a fictional tale

Emma Reyda, Reporter

I, Thursday, am a 27-year-old female from a small town in Utah. I work as a detective for a private organization and my job is essentially to solve crimes and uncover murders. Although I love my job, some of the things I’ve seen is not meant for the faint of heart. Recently, my boss is having me drive three miles from home to try and solve a murder case. A husband and his wife found dead in the bed of their own home. Thankfully, the kids weren’t home and were staying with their grandparents for the weekend. Unfortunately, there are no prime suspects and I’m left all alone to try and solve what exactly happened.


I have been investigating the house, the victims, and people who knew of the victims. I have found nothing. It’s not very often you see a cold case. Not only that, but one that has no evidence or no suspects. The only bad thing about where I am staying is that this small town has houses that are so far apart you wouldn’t be able to catch a murderer because you can’t hear anyone scream. Not to mention, everyone in the town seems to act like this is a common occurrence. No one is scared.


I keep hearing scratching at my doors and knocking on the windows every time I try to sleep. Everyone here is not at all okay. They all look grey and at night they all walk the dirt roads with torches mumbling some unknown words. I have to get out of here, and soon. I have to let everyone know not to come here. These people are crazy

This is the last entry that Thursday, Marshal, 27, female, wrote after she was found murdered in her sleep on her bed.