Kiana sat like a doll on the couch, immobilized by the knowledge of what she was doing. She was supposed to be at photography club, but she was in too deep to turn back. Yet as fear ribboned through her like the heat radiating from the hot cup of tea, she knew Mr. Jokela was nothing like the newspapers portrayed him as.

Even though he was only in his mid twenties, the man gave the appearance of being far older. Long, blonde hair twisted into knots around his face, only to be joined by a thick beard grown of neglect. His eyes were sunken into a head so bony, Kiana could see each shift of a muscle as he grimaced, each deep breath from a swollen sanity. With clothes covered in cat fur and a figure similar to an uncooked noodle, he looked more like a mad man than a thief.

"Um, so I just have a few questions about Jonathan..." Kiana trailed off as the overpowering scent of stale coffee poisoned her nose. His apartment was like a goldfish bowl that someone forgot to clean: clothes and newspapers scattered anywhere there was space, counter covered in mugs surrounded by flies, and a wretched thick scent of dust and coffee that would kill any nostrils. Light filtered through a single dirty window and lit every broken thing he owned, including his face.

"So you mentioned." Hunter collapsed on the couch across from Kiana, a tormented grin beneath the mess of a beard. "You sure it was him?"

"Oh absolutely." Kiana rushed forward, hugging the cup of tea he had handed her. "He steals for a living and looks exactly like the newspaper pictures. Well, besides the blue hair and the cut..."

"Anyway, I was just wondering if you knew what might be going on."

"With Johnny?" Hunter chuckled as a cat jumped onto the couch, prancing over to his lap in a fit of purs. The cats were everywhere: on the counter, windowsill, around her ankles and clawing at the door. "He's dead. End of story."

"Anyway, I was just wondering, how did he, supposedly...die?" Kiana ignored Hunter's glare as the warm tea burned her hands. She hadn't taken a single sip since she'd arrived. Part of her couldn't help but think it was just one of the day-old teacups scattered across the counter.

"He was stabbed." Hunter clung to the cat as a smile crawled across his lips. Cradling it as if a child, the grin overtook his eyes with the same madness plastered across his mouth. "Five times. Once in the neck, twice in the stomach and twice in the back."

"I got to ID the body." He grinned as if it were a gift, like getting a present on a birthday. "Everyone thought it was disgusting. Blood everywhere; All over his face, but I thought it was stunning. It was as if every evil had bled out of him until he looked just as hideous as he did on the inside!"

Kiana jumped as a fit of laughter broke from his lips, riveting and shaking until she thought his brittle bones would simply snap...

"Are...are you okay?" She bit her lip as the laughter turned to sobs, thick, messy tears streaming into his beard. He was falling to pieces as he pushed himself to his feet, collapsing as he made his way to a counter covered in uneaten scraps of food. Hunter's tears fell like dangerous waterfalls, each one crushing Kiana under her fear.

"Oh, just wonderful," he mumbled through the foggy emotions, almost tossing the cat aside as he collapsed at the counter. Papers fluttered to the ground at his feet, buckling knees as he slid to the ground. "That monster stole everything from me, you know?"

"No. Uh, do you want to talk about it?" Kiana tensed in the hope he would respond, begging for more answers than questions. She itched to leave, but the possibility of understanding Jonathan held her in her seat.

Hunter sniffled as another cat brushed up against his leg, spreading hair and dust everywhere. "Why not?" He shrugged, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Grimacing, Kiana tried to ignore the gunk smeared across his jacket.

"Johnny was a little unstable. I tried to help him, but he just got so...crazy. I guess I was sick of catering to him and snapped. We got in a fight, he got mad and left. Next thing I know, the Hart twins killed him and I was under arrest."

"Wait, who are the Hart twins?" Kiana spun around to face Hunter, almost spilling the tea in the process. With thick tears dripping down his beard, Hunter shook his head as if it could banish all the terrible memories.

"Our rivals." He mumbled as if it tasted bitter in his mouth. "They were thieves who almost always tried to steal the same thing as us. But they got sick of our game and I guess Johnny just gave them the perfect opportunity to end it. After our fight, he took the bus downtown. Hart twins saw him in a diner and realized an opportunity like that was rare. They lured him away; pulled out a knife. Now he's dead and they're behind bars."

"Oh my goodness." Kiana felt bitterness flood her mouth as images of the story wormed through her mind. Johnny was dead. There was no way around it, no way to fake such a vicious stabbing. Her hands grew sweaty around the cup of tea, lungs pumping air as if each breath was her last. "It...it must have been terrible."

"Oh, it was." The tears had stopped flowing from Hunter's eyes as a deep, gravelly hatred returned to his voice. Pushing himself to his feet, he turned around to face the counter, sifting through the mess as if looking for lost treasure. "They hardly even had a reason to hate him. But stabbed him anyway! Killed him and stole the body three days later!"

"Stole?" Kiana could hardly utter a word as Hunter spun around, the anger covering his face like a mask.

"Johnny's body disappeared three days after the murder." Words hissed from pursed lips, each syllable clutched as tightly as the fork in his fist. "Everyone thought it was the Hart twins, but I think Johnny wasn't ready to give up his game. Even after death, he can't help but make things disappear!"

Kiana gasped as the fork flew from Hunter's hand, spinning, swirling, straight arrow precision as it buried itself in an image tacked to the wall. Her shaking fingers gripped the couch as she stared at the wall covered in knives and forks, a halo of violence around the photo of Jonathan.

"I, uh..." She gasped, out of breath as the madness dragged Hunter to the ground in a fit of giggles.

"I should've been the one to stab him..."

"I'm going to see myself out." Kiana jumped to her feet, scrambling to pick up her backpack as fast as Hunter spewed violent cries from his lips. Practically jumping to the door, she tried to ignore the man sprawled on the ground like a murder victim, the laughter trickling from his lips, and the terror of what she had learned.

Johnny was supposed to be dead. The idea haunted her as she slammed the door shut and caught her breath. It buried itself in her subconscious as she sprinted down the stairs, longing to feel the sun on her face. And as if Hunter's madness had wrapped around her mind, Kiana felt her feet take herself back towards the same apartment she fled from a week earlier.

Johnny was supposed to be dead, but she wouldn't believe it unless he admitted it himself.