You've been given no choice! If this isn't the decision you wanted, feel free to return to Chapter 102!
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The story you are about to read was written by Tana, MT_Reade

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Logan awoke inside of a cage.

A large, metallic cage that looked like it was designed for circus animals. Logan felt a throbbing ache in his shoulder, and he reached up to rub it instinctively. He was lying on the cold floor of the enclosure, and he forced himself to sit up, despite his spinning head. Everything was so blurry...

Where were his glasses?

Logan got on all fours, and began to feel around for them. When his fingers wrapped around them, he wasted no time in getting them on his face. He stood, clutching the bars of the cage for support. He looked around the room, it was darkly lit with amber light from a singular lightbulb hanging just out of view. Logan looked around, seeing that mess of things that cluttered the small room beyond his cage. There was a large, brown bottle labelled "Cyclobenzaprine", that was laying on its side. There was a map of the city, along with one of the University of Carlton, unfolded and discarded. There was a bible that was open, with the name Cain circled in several places, along with words like kill, sacrifice, and jealousy. Beside them, a pair of yellow gloves. Perhaps most disturbingly, there was a cracked picture frame, with a developed photograph of himself, Patton, and Daemon White inside it, laughing. However, Patton's face was scratched out completely. Beyond that there was a door, whose handle was just out of reach.

Logan turned to the second side of the cage, his eyes finding the door to the enclosure. Logan gripped the bars of it, and pushed with all of his might, but it wouldn't budge. He reached around, feeling for the lock on the other side. It felt foreign in his fingers, a lock he'd never seen before... or touched, in this case. He left the door alone, for now. He turned to the third side, to find a motion picture projector in front of it. Logan had only seen one or two of them in his life, as they'd only been invented a few years before.

His eyes caught on a little piece of paper beside a large red button. It was written on in the same writing used in all of the notes that Logan had received.

Turn me on

Logan reached forward, through the gap in the bars, and pressed the button. The projector whirred to life, an image being displayed on the wall in front of him. Logan watched as a man in a bowler hat and cloak stepped into frame. He wore light coloured gloves, but the rest of his clothing was dark. The man slowly removed his hat, and he smirked at the camera. Almost like he was staring through it, through the projection, and right into Logan's own eyes.

"Hello, detective." It was Daemon White.

"Fancy seeing you here." Daemon laughed a little, before his face fell flat.

Logan gripped the bars. He had been right.

"Now, now." Daemon said. "No need to get feisty. It's a waste of energy. I can't see you anyway. By the time you see this, I'll be far out of your reach."

Daemon pulled off his gloves slowly. "I have no doubt that you're not surprised to see me. You probably have had the whole 'Cain' thing figured out for a while now."

Daemon clicked his tongue. "You know, I've never considered myself a religious man, but I do have to say that the language used in that bible over there is quite riveting. It wasn't my first choice of text, but I knew I had to pick something that you'd think of. Who wouldn't check the bible for an alias name, hm? For someone so smart, you are so incredibly predictable."

He laughed. "You played by my rules the entire time. You did exactly what I wanted you to. You went to the right places at all the right times, found all my little breadcrumbs in just the right order..."

His expression soured. "Well, except for the night at the university. I mean, I had expected you to show up, and you are quite a punctual man. But, I wasn't expecting that door to open and ruin our fun so soon. Although I can't say I minded too much. What I got out of it wasn't awful." Daemon winked. Logan's stomach dropped, he could almost feel Daemon's hand softly touching his face, his lips against...

"But other than that, you did just what I wanted to. And I thought you were clever." Daemon tutted, shaking his head.

"Of course, you weren't the only one who worked in my favour. That Remus chap proved to be rather helpful!" Daemon smiled so sweetly it was almost sickening. "I definitely got my money's worth."

Logan was infuriated. His hands gripped the bars so tightly it hurt.

"Don't get too worked up yet, Logan. We haven't even gotten to the good parts yet." It was like Daemon could see him.

"Don't act so surprised. Like I said, you're predictable."

Logan's jaw dropped.

"Anyway, the whole thing proved to be rather easy, actually. Much easier than I expected. The planning was almost no work. I mean, you're not a hard man to find, detective. You're all over the papers! You, and of course they mention the people who helped you solve your countless cases. Patton's name was on the list, much to my surprise. Then, the idea started to form. Now that I knew where Patton was, I decided to stop by to pay him a visit. But, when I got there, it seemed that he was already busy talking to someone else. A visitor. A young man, with some unruly hair..."

"Virgil Sanders." Logan muttered.

"Very good, detective." Daemon said, almost replying to him. Logan wanted to punch something. Was he really that predictable? That Daemon could make a whole film as though they were having a conversation?

"I followed Virgil home, careful to stay hidden. I waited outside the house for a while. I watched another man, taller, and looked strikingly similar to Virgil, stumble into the house after sundown. I found out later that that man is your boss! I didn't know that at the time, but man, miracles come when you least expect them, don't they?"

"I had a vile of cyclobenzaprine in my pocket, along with a cloth. They had been meant for dear old Pat, but plans change. This was better actually. Why kill a man, when you could kill someone he cares for, and then frame him for the murder? Much more fun, and he'll suffer longer before he dies. Rather brilliant, if I do say so myself."

"I went upstairs, quiet as a mouse. Virgil ended up being a little bit of a challenge to get unconscious, but I still got the job done in impeccable time. In and out before anyone even knew that I was there."

"Then, I took little Virgey down to our old school. Good old Carlton... what memories." Daemon sighed happily. "I took him down to the basement, and left him there to simmer. You have to plump up your animals before you slaughter them, otherwise they're no good, right?"

Logan wanted to vomit.

"Obviously I knew I wanted to kill him, but I had to be careful. I paid another visit to the morgue, and took one of Patton's little tools. Then, on my way back to the university, I started to lay out my breadcrumbs, all in hopes you'd figure it all out and happen to find yourself at a certain bridge..."

Daemon looked dead at the camera. "And of course, like the clever clover you are, you did." A smile grew onto his face.

"Virgil mentioned you before he died, you know. I was taking him to the bridge, and he asked what I was doing. I told him that I was relocating him, and his fearful little eyes became smug. He said that it didn't matter where he took me, Detective Christie would find him. Too bad you couldn't have found him a little sooner, hm?" Daemon chuckled. "Now that I think about it... it's kind of your fault that he's dead, isn't it? If you'd gotten there sooner, worked just a little harder... but no, you took exactly how long I knew you would. Like I said, you're punctual." Daemon shrugged.

Logan felt like he'd just been stabbed in the gut. It was his fault. It was all his fault that Virgil was dead.

"Oh, I hope that's not self-pity I hear, detective."

"It's not." Logan said. Then he cursed himself for responding to a literal projection.

As if on cue, Daemon laughed. "Then, I planted the murder weapon with my little note, and went on my way. All there was left to do was give you my little helping hand, and the rest is history."

Logan remembered Remus leaving the room after his testimony, leaving Logan in the room with the final note from Cain.

"Although, I have a feeling you didn't really appreciate my gift." Daemon pouted.

Logan forced himself to bite back his response. He would not have a conversation with a film.

"But of course, you've figured all of that out already, haven't you?" Daemon smirked. "But there is still one question that you haven't been able to answer, right?"

Logan clenched his jaw.

Daemon cocked his head, and made a face of mocking innocence. "What does all of this have to do with you?"

The detective froze, and Daemon laughed again.

"You're so dense, detective. Incredibly bright, one of the smartest men New York has ever seen. But dense." Daemon said, before beginning to pace back and forth in the frame.

"See, you figured out the little family tree. With me being Cain, Virgil being my little brother Abel, and of course, Patton being our father: Adam. But, you're missing one important figure." Daemon paused. "Any guesses?"

Logan stayed silent.

"No? That's a shame. It's God, Logan. You're God."

What?

"I can almost hear your mind working, detective. But I know you won't figure it out, so I'll tell it to you straight."

Daemon stopped pacing in the centre of the frame, and he turned to Logan. "I love you, Logan."

Now that sent Logan's mind spinning, he was generating a million questions a second.

"I suppose I should be more clear. I'm in love with you. I have been for years. I tried to get you to notice me all throughout university, but no. I was the third wheel. You were infatuated with Patton. No matter what I did, what sacrifices I made, what offerings I gave you, you never picked me. I was second, like the least liked sibling but it was so much worse than that. I spent every day feeling invisible. I don't know what it was that made you not like me, Logan. Whether it was this, or..." Daemon gestured to the birthmark on the left side of his face, sadly.

"But you never looked at me the way you looked at him." Daemon said, true pain piercing through the façade. His face morphed into one of extreme anger. "Patton took you from me. You were blind when he was around."

"So, I wanted to hurt him the way he hurt me. I took something that he loved, then eliminate him from the picture for you. But, even with Patton appearing to be a murderer, your love for him never faltered. Not once. You kept searching and searching, trying to find anything to protect your precious Patton. I was so..." Daemon's golden eyes went maniacally wide, and his fists clenched tightly as he forced a smile. "I was so angry. When you came to the university that night, I wanted nothing more than to wrap my hands around your pretty little throat and..."

Daemon came out of it, and became calm again, before repeating old words. "But, why kill a man, when you could kill someone he cares for, and then frame him for the murder?"

Logan swore his heart stopped.

"But, in this case, it'll be a little more than framing. I want to play a little game." Daemon said. "Your love and loyalty is unwavering, Logan. Really, it's admirable. But, everyone had their limits. I want to see just how far I can push."

Logan was going weak in the knees.

"So, I'd like to formally welcome you to the room your in. Consider it our game board, yeah? Around you, lying outside your cage, is all of the evidence you'll need to convict me. Or, more importantly, save Patton's life. Including my, Daemon White's, full confession. It's this tape, of course."

Logan looked back toward the items he'd seen earlier. White was right, there was more than enough to ensure that Daemon would be proved guilty.

"But, you can't take it too him. You're stuck in a cage with a lock you've never seen before, because I invented it myself. But, if you'll look to your right, you'll see a telephone."

Logan did so, and sure enough, a corded black telephone sat on a small wooden stool. But, something was off. It appeared to be hooked up to what looked to be a pressurized gas tank.

"You can use it to call your friends over at Station House Number Seven, and they can come collect all of the evidence, and save Patton." Daemon's voice continued. "But, I'm sure you've noticed there's an extra part attached. That, my dearest detective, is a tank of a gas called Carbon Monoxide. I'm sure you've studied it in your free time, and are well aware of its properties, so I will not waste the breath explaining it to you. I'm already getting a little hoarse."

"Anyways, if you lift that telephone, it will release a pressurized switch, and the tank will open, letting the gas spill into the room. By the time the police get here, you'll be quite, quite dead." Daemon said it like it was supposed to be reassuring.

"Or, of course, you have another option. The lock on your pet cage is a time triggered lock. It is set to be released at exactly six p.m., or, if I read the papers right, the exact time your beloved coroner is to be executed. Is that right?"

Logan's hands were shaking now. He was too busy thinking to try to worry about the fact that Daemon was accusing him of being in love with Patton.

"I thought so." Daemon said conceitedly. "So, you get to choose which of you will live. Will it be you? Or will you trade your life for his?"

Logan's eyes scraped the room around him, looking for a way out.

"Now, now, Logan. That's enough of that. I promise you that there is no third way out. You have to make a choice. And by my calculations, with the time it will take for the pressure point in your shoulder to ease up, and the approximate time it would take you to find the tape, and how long it took you to watch it, you should have just over an hour to make your decision."

Logan's heart was thudding so aggressively that Logan could swear that he could hear it.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, detective." Daemon put his hat back on, and tipped it to him in parting. "I have a train to catch."

Then, the image fizzled out, and the screen went dark. Logan reached forward with a trembling hand to power off the projector. Then, Logan forced himself to all corners of the cage, prodding and pulling at every groove, searching for a loose bolt, a weak bar, anything. Panic was very quickly setting in, and Logan began to cry as he slammed his hands against the roof desperately. He had to get out. He had to save Patton, whether he loved him or not. But after what seemed like ages of searching and turning up nothing, Logan stepped back.

He sunk slowly to his knees in defeat. Daemon was right, there was no other way out. He had to make a choice.
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What is Logan's decision?

Let the time run out - Go to Chapter 104

Grab the Phone, Call the Station, and Release the Gas - Go to Chapter 105