The faint murmur of the rain was all that could be heard, the dark sky all that one could bear to look upon. Amidst the somber scenery of the cemetery there was only a small gathering near a humble grave. Detective Alexander was among them, sitting so close to the grave that the priest felt the need to intervene, touching his shoulder — half out of worry for his grieving soul, half worried he might fall into the pit along with her. The man did not notice for only the memories of old were roaming his mind now, good and bad. Happier times. Yet every time he tried to conjure a shred of happiness or acceptance, the figure of his daughter's cold body shook him to the core. All he could muster were the simple words I'm sorry Emma, I'm sorry over and over but he knew well these simple words were never enough.

"...And now for a word from the father. Stay strong, Alexander. She will watch you from above."

"Thank you, father Jonathan." He walked up to the microphone preparing his farewells. "People walk up to me, look at me, with respect. They know I'm there for them, to serve justice, but now I'm the one who's lost. I'm the one who's world was taken apart. All I can do is open my mouth and hope for the best, right?" Alexander breathes one more time, trying to compose myself while the crowd was staring straight at him. "But it's times like these that people like me need to step up and take action." After raising his drowned eyes from the floor and facing the public, his voice grew harsher. "I've known each and every one of you for years, we've been colleagues for years, yet here you stand before me and I feel like I'm in a crowd of strangers. To be honest, I've never felt more alone than I do now. I've truly lost the only person that ever cared about me ... and it is all thanks to you."

There are faint murmurs in the crowd, until at last a strong cold voice rose from among them. "What is the meaning of this, Alexander? You invited us here to insult us? At your daughter's funeral? Have you no shame?!"

"Hah, funny you say that, deputy chief, I should be asking you the same thing."

"Is everything okay, son?" The priest asked. "Perhaps some wine to cool you down."

Alexander takes the cup of wine and pours it all on the ground, prompting a sinister, regretting smile. "Don't take it too harsh, father, for today the blood of Jesus holds another purpose. Yes, everything is alright, just needed some time to think. This isn't poetry, after all, I'm not here to impress everyone with my grand words, I'm just here to say my final goodbyes to the one person I could call my family. I don't care if you're getting impatient. I can't even bear to look at her and you expect me to sit here and give some eloquent speech."

After a short moment of silence, whilst the priest takes a seat himself at last, Alexander begins his speech. "Emma was the light of my life. From the day she was born to this day she was the only one that made me truly smile. Emma was the reason I could be happy. I never thought this day would come, you know? I wasn't prepared for this. Thought I'd be the one to go, after I see her get married to some lucky son of a bitch, after I'd grown old and grumpy surrounded by my grandkids, seeing her live the life that she deserved. I thought our life here in Los Angeles would be a far away memory we'd only recall for the nights we'd spend together, pirating movies while pretending to be crooked cops ... How true that turned out to be, right?"

A faint coughing could be heard through the silent and confused crowd. The police officers looked towards what seemed to be a choking person to help, when they too were struck by a sudden cough. Alexander stepped down from the stage and walked towards the coffin of his dear daughter, this time whispering with the fight seeping out of him.

"I'm sorry I had to let you go like this, baby. When I will see the grave myself, this, too, will be one of the things I will regret but I hope you understand. I had to make them pay for what they'd done to you." The crowd started collapsing. Every man looked around him, thinking of ways to cheat their fate. They drank water, held their breath, one among them opening his neck with the small table knives. The chief, knowing what was coming for him, only used the last of his strength to utter a few words.

"... You wont live much longer, Alexander. They'll come for you."

"I know." Despite their endless struggles, none of the officers survived. At long last, the funeral was silent and Alexander enjoyed a final silent moment with his daughter, clutching her cold hands and shedding what few tears he had not shed yet in her name.

The priest disturbs the silence with the clunking of two shovels. "Would you like some help with the bodies, son?"

"Aren't you frightened? Even a little bit?"

"I worked for the military, you could say I'm well acquainted with death." He smiled in his most holy way.

"Heh, alright."