A/N: Now it's Loki's turn to share his story. We will have a special guest for this entry!

LOKI

SO WHERE DO I START? I have no freaking idea what to write in my entry. All I want is to solve cases, not write about them. But no matter how many times I make that point, Lorelei would not listen to me. She does not care about my opinion. She only cares about getting this unnecessary project done.

If I had known it would come to this situation, I would have used my veto power as club president. I don't know if that's gonna work, but it might be worth a try.

Lorelei may have forgotten the reason why I recruited her in the first place. I solve a case, she writes about it, like the dynamics of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. End of story. I can't play Holmes and Watson at the same time.

There are so many important things that I'd like to accomplish. This anthology was definitely not at the top of my list. It's not even on my list! I should be finishing my giant jigsaw puzzle right now, but alas. Let me waste my time writing about my reminiscences. I can't say if anything's interested in reading a tale written by me or if anyone can appreciate the way I weave the words.

During our meeting, Lorelei made it very clear that we must only tell stories that are "fun" and "lighthearted." She couldn't have given those words with much more emphasis. No bloody murders. No stomach-turning gore. Which was kinda disappointing. Those were the best!

Thus I had a hard time thinking about a story of mine that met those criteria. Almost every complicated problem is "fun" for me. Others may find a complex puzzle or a baffling riddle troublesome, but certainly not me. As long as they could challenge my mind, they're perfect in my eyes. Fun is, after all, subjective. What's fun for me may not be for the others.

As for the "lighthearted" part, that's where I might have a problem. The word's so specific, I couldn't easily find a way to justify my choice of story. Most of the cases that we solved and I enjoyed fall under the "serious" category. They don't meet the denotative meaning of the word "lighthearted." Even if there are lighthearted cases, they don't interest me at all.

After a few days of thinking so hard about it, I remembered one particular case that meets Lorelei's and the Clarion's standards. It's fun, sort of. It's lighthearted, very much. However, I had some reservations. It's kinda personal to me. Should I share this unforgettable tale with someone who might buy a copy of our anthology?

One thing's for certain: This story is one for the books. Literally and figuratively.

My ringing phone woke me up one Tuesday morning. I groaned as I grabbed my phone and blindly tapping the screen. Receiving a call at around five in the morning was unusual for me. I have no friends who would ring me and I haven't shared my number with any of my classmates.

So who could be disturbing my sleep? I had four names in mind. Let me do a quick process of elimination.

It couldn't be my clubmate. Why? It's still five o'clock and no student rises from bed this early. She must still be sleeping and enjoying her dream... or nightmare.

It couldn't be my brother. Why? He had no reason to call me this early. He also wouldn't be able to reach me because I blocked his number. Or did I? I forgot and I don't care.

It couldn't be my father. Why? Instead of calling me, he'd have his bodyguards fetch me here in the apartment and bring me back to our residence.

So that left only one person on my list.

"Morning, mom." I yawned after I greeted her lazily. I appreciate her effort to check on me. But why was she calling me at five in the morning? Was there a family emergency? If it's about my brother, I'd rather go straight back to sleep.

"Happy birthday, Louis!" My right eardrum almost shattered when I heard her screeching voice. It was so loud, my half-asleep consciousness woke up.

Birthday? I looked at my phone's calendar. Today's the sixth of January.

Oh, yeah. Today's my birthday. That time of year again, huh? What now?

"Thank you for waking me up so early, mom." I gently rubbed my half-closed eyes. I thought she was about to tell me something more important than a birthday greeting. Kinda disappointing.

"Makakalimutan ko ba ang birthday ng cutie Loki ko?" my mom said in a singsong tone. "Sorry if mama can't be there with you. But I promise na babawi ako pagkauwi ko riyan sa Pampanga."

"Yeah, yeah." I yawned again. I made sure she could hear my yawn so she'd know how sleepy I still was. "Can I go back to sleep now? My eyes still feel heavy."

"I hope you'll have a blast today. Take care of yourself always. Love you!"

"Love you too, mom."

And she hung up. Finally. I tossed my phone on the bedside and stared at the ceiling.

Unlike my mom, I don't look forward to today nor do I expect to have a blast. Birthdays are, for me, a reminder that we are one year closer to our inevitable deaths. Sorry for fans of birthdays out there, but it's an unnecessary celebration. The world won't stop if you turn 17 today. Th world won't be any better if you get older today. Also, birthday wishes are stupid.

Today's just gonna be an ordinary day. Nothing special. The best birthday gift for me is not a cake or a party, but a challenging case to solve. If a client comes to our clubroom with a puzzling problem, I'd probably thank him for the gift. I don't normally thank anyone, but I'd make an exemption today.

I tried to lull myself to sleep, but no avail.

Since Hypnos refused to cradle me in his arms, I went out of my room and grabbed the novel that I started reading last night: The Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie.

"He-Hey, Loki."

My eyes flicked up at the boy who interrupted my reading. His blonde hair was scruffy. He looked so pale as if his blood was drained from his body. Did he see a morning ghost or was he becoming anemic?

"Yes?" I replied with little to no interest in what he had to say.

"Remember 'yong kinwento ko sa 'yo kahapon? Na may naririnig akong boses habang natutulog ako?"

I slightly lowered my book so I could get a better sight of his trembling hands. "Of course, how can I forget? You kept on pestering me about it."

"Hindi talaga ako mapakali kasi feel ko talagang may bumubulong sa 'kin," he went on.

"And?"

"Naisipan kong i-record ang pagtulog ko kagabi." He showed me his phone screen which had a recorder app on and tapped the play button.

"Adam... tulungan... mo... ako... Adam..." The voice was hoarse. I wasn't surprised why it scared the hell out of him. If I were in his shoes, I would be horrified too. Fortunately, I wasn't.

Who was he? His name's Adam. That's all you needed to know about him. There's no need to tell you his last name—I forgot about it and that's perfectly okay to me—or any more details about him because he's not that relevant in this story.

I stared at him. "That's my concern because...?"

"This means na totoo nga tsismis na may multo sa apartment na 'to!" My roommate was getting jumpy. "There's no way na may mapi-pick-up na ganitong boses ang recorder app. May kababalaghan talaga rito!"

"Are you sure that wasn't you sleeptalking?" I went back to reading because our discussion was losing my interest already. To be fair, I wasn't that interested in the first place. "Baka sarili mo lang ang na-record-an mo. That happens sometimes. Even to me."

"Impossible!" he roared. "I can't make that voice kaya imposibleng ako 'yan! Someone else was in my room. And I have a feeling that someone isn't human."

See what I meant? He's starting to spout some nonsense. "So why did you have to share that info with me?"

"Isa kang detective, 'di ba? Baka kaya mong i-trace kung ano ang gusto ng multong nanggugulo sa pagtulog ko?"

"You said it yourself. I'm a detective, not a ghostbuster," I reminded him in the gentlest way possible. I could have insulted him, but I didn't want to waste energy this early. "I don't believe in ghosts. Maybe you recorded that somewhere else and you thought that was a recording in your room last night. Maybe that was just you muttering some words."

"Ay, bahala ka na nga!" He walked back to his room, slamming the door. "Maghahanap na ako ng bagong lilipatang apartment! Magsama kayong dalawa ng multo rito."

I smirked. Looked like my plan to drive him out of this apartment was working.

I didn't like Adam as my roommate. I never liked him. The day he set foot in my unit, I knew I would have to find a way to make him leave. Tolerating his existence for two months was already excruciatingly long.

First, his men stuff. Shaving cream. Rusty razors. Hair wax. Deodorant. Toner. Facial cream. They're all over the place in our shared bathroom! He didn't know how to put things in their proper places. I may be disorganized sometimes, but I wasn't as disorganized as him.

Second, the noises. I could remember those nights when he brought his girlfriend here. They made awfully strange noises in his room. Not once, not twice. But many times! One time I was reading a crime novel when I heard moans coming from his room. How could I concentrate on solving the mystery if they kept on making such noises?

Let's say I become more considerate of him. I could tolerate the way he leaves his stuff everywhere, but not the noises. Whoever disturbs my reading time and my sleep does not deserve to stay here.

So I decided to put my eviction plan into motion. Through the use of some scare tactics. When he was still out yesterday, I broke into his room and secretly placed a device under his bed that would play the distorted voice of an old woman asking for help.

Based on his reaction, it's working. He'd be out sooner than later.

He wasn't my first roommate to leave this unit. Was he the sixth or the seventh? Ah, I lost count already. But I had to be careful when carrying out my schemes. I do not want the landlady to suspect that I was deliberately scaring my roommates so they'd move out.

But he was the least of my concern today. I have more important things to do. Like solving cases. That's what keeps me going every day.

q.e.d.

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