The Science Room Conundrum

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
this was sopposed to be a short story but it became extremely long...
This is a suspenseful piece that has a twist ending :)

Submitted: July 11, 2012

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Submitted: July 11, 2012

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Morning slowly rose upon Oscurok State University. As the sun began its steady never-stopping journey across the sky, dorm room doors began to creep open slowly as college students avoided waking one-another. One in particular, Pierre Solepanza, was a clumsy, but brilliant, student. Pierre bustled out of the room flinging the door open, then closed again, and headed to the shower. Within the rooms that were still closed, students groaned after being awakened from the peaceful slumber. One of these agitated peers was twenty-year-old John VanDublin that lived across the hall from Pierre. Flinging off the covers, he went to tell the scatterbrained soul off.

“Pierre!” he exclaimed coming down the hall, calling for Mr. Solepanza in a gruff, burly voice.

Poking his small, tan head out, Pierre inquired, “Yes, John? I don’t mind discussing different matters with you, but I must get into the shower as I need to be in the science lab by 9:45.”

John glared at the figure before him. Pierre was a man, nineteen years of age to be precise, with a long, lengthy body and elongated arms. Every day, Pierre wore a different, science-related shirt with jeans and a pair of red Converse sneakers. Up on his head was a mass of dark chocolate hair. His eyes were brown with a milky-like feel to them. Pierre also carried around a laptop bag that consisted of his textbook and multiple notebooks. His laptop was always kept in his dorm, which he lived in by himself, and was used for academic purposes only. To everyone at Oscurok State, Pierre was the typical nerd or dork everyone avoided. Everything Pierre did made John bubble with fury, also envy but no one was to know about that!

John realized he had been staring at the spot Pierre stood for quite some time now, and quickly turned to return to his dorm and attempt to fall asleep again. Lying down in his soft, comfortable comforter, John realized he had to get rid of Pierre so this feeling of jealousy would go away once and for all!

Pierre decided he would take the longer, more serene path to the science lab. His hair was a flopping damp mop that was just starting to dry. Pierre always took the healthy way of everything, including his shampoo. “To keep myself thinking healthy, I must have a healthy scalp.” he had once said to a very aggravated John one morning. From this, Pierre Solepanza only used Head and Shoulders shampoo. Arriving to the science lab, Pierre scanned his ID card and entered the lab into class 301B as he pulled on his lab coat. Pierre studied with chemicals in his lab. Surrounding him was all different colored liquids, ranging from the lightest pink to the darkest brown.

All of the college kids were not permitted to be in class 301B without adult supervision as some chemicals were able to kill in a matter of minutes while some were explosive. Like, they are unbelievably explosive. For example, if a bomb were to go off… Anyways, Pierre was the only one that was trusted to be alone there. Honestly, he was a dork, what illegal thing would he even do?

Slowly, minutes crept by and the instructor, Dr. Loveheart, he was Inspector Love heart’s brother, came into the room. “How’s the work going, Pierre?” he asked with a broad voice. Pierre was used to this sand did not jump to the sound of his voice anymore. “Excellent! Wonderful! Right now I am observing this blue-green chemical to decide if it could help the public in any way! It does not clean very well and it is not flammable and I have noticed bugs that happen to fly into this room stay away from where I am so maybe it could be a potential liquid that can keep insects away from your home.” Pierre glanced up with thick goggles on his face that were scratched around the edges from small chemical explosions, nothing serious.

The instructor always enjoyed what Pierre had to say, then again, all of the instructors enjoyed, no wait, savored what he had to say. That was one of the things that made John allow envy to slither up to him and grab him by the heart with its cold, menacing hands. Pierre got whatever it was he wanted, as long as it had to do with school, of course! Right then, as Pierre exclaimed about his discovery of this chemical, all he could think was that Pierre was going to go far; maybe a possible Nobel Peace Prize, or something of the sort. Dr. Loveheart went over toPierre and started to ask him about the contents of this chemical.

. . .

John sat in his bed, planning, thinking, designing the perfect trap for the unsuspecting Pierre. He was stuck between stabbing the poor soul or creating a bomb and planting it in his dorm room. He threw both ideas aside and then thought of the perfect idea incorporating the idea of a bomb. Every morning at 9:45 on the dot, Pierre would go to the science lab and sit there working on who-knows-what alone. Alone! That’s what would help him commit such a devilish crime.  Thinking he was as sly as a fox, John sat down at his desk and began to write his plan. No more would he have to put up with this person that took over the minds of the instructors and professors. He could finally be the center of attention!

. . .

As the end of the day rolled around and students went to their dormitories to study, work on homework, or socialize, Pierre remained in the science lab to do some more work on the blue-green chemical he named, Bug-Be-Gone! He sat staring at it for a small amount of time when there was a knock at the door. Puzzled, Pierre went over and opened to find John standing there with a couple supplies with him. Pierre was shocked as he could not identify the box John held clasped between his hands. The box was about the size of a normal sized computer monitor and was decorated in blues, reds, and purples. “Hello, John. I am most certainly surprised by your visit to this place at such a time of night since it seems that since is not your, how should I put it, yes, your thing.” Pierre stated as he ushered John into the room and sat down at a desk stool in front of him. “Yes, you must be very surprised to see that some people go out of the dorms at night besides you.” John sneered as he put down the box and stared into the brown eyes set in front of him.

Pierre and John stared at each for quite a long period of time, measuring each other to see if one of them were crazy or not. Deciding both were at least some-what sane, they both left each other’s gaze and John explained his reasoning for arriving. “I know you have been working here for quite some time now, why don’t you go to sleep now and I’ll lock up this place.” He stated. Pierre thought about the proposal that had been made. It was a splendid idea because he was tired from the study of Bug-Be-Gone, but he didn’t want John to find it and take all of the credit for it. Deciding he could trust the man, he replied, “Yes, I am quite tired and I don’t think my bed as sounded this nice until now! I will go and work tomorrow morning at 9:45 as I always do. Thank you for this offer, John-have a good night!” he turned on his heel and left to the boys’ dorms to refresh him for the work the next day.

John was almost giddy from excitement. It worked! That blasted nerd actually left the room for him to attach the bomb to a small corner of the wall. He opened the box; it was decorated like a kids show as to prevent Pierre from asking him a question about it. Inside was a small bomb that was set to be deactivated in three days. He had planned on setting it for the next day but decided that the poor boy needed some time to live before he left our world-the college world anyways. The bomb was to injure him disastrously to send him home, away from Oscurok State University! Chuckling to himself, he placed the bomb in the corner and double checked that it was set for three days and not the one day he had thought of before. Pleased with himself, he locked up like he promised and began to walk to the door. He accidentally bumped into a blue-green chemical, sending it to the floor. It was luckily in a plastic test tube and was placed on the test tube rack shaken a little so that the color looked a little scarlet, like blood.

The next morning was the same as the last. The sun rose once again and Pierre slammed the door as he went to the bathroom to wash up with his Head and Shoulders shampoo and have his hair look like a mop on his head. Pierre went down the same serene path to the exact same science to lab to work more on the blue-green Bug-Be-Gone. Opening the door with his ID card, he bustled over to the table that held the test tube rack for his invention and saw it had the same blue-green hue to it. Not a hint of scarlet was there. Pierre sat and started testing the subject on different areas of the room to see if it still worked in keeping the insects away. He dipped a cotton swab into the mixture and began to swirl it slightly, the bones in his wrist rotating in a clockwise manner. The mixture became the slight scarlet, as expected from the student, and then a midnight black. Pierre jumped trying to get rid of the chemical, but it was too late, the deed had been done.

. . .

Dr. Loveheart laid in bed, thinking on how he would demonstrate the proper way to swirl a test tube full of chemicals to his freshman class. This would not be a problem for Pierre; he thought to himself, he got everything as quickly as it came out of his own mouth. Wondering how Pierre’s experiment was going, the room was shaken, jolting violently from side-to-side. Dr. Loveheart jumped out of the bed and dressed himself into his clothes and dashing like a mad-man to room classroom 301B. Putting his hand on the doorknob, he slowly started to turn it but the door fell forward, tumbling down, falling ever-so-slowly. Dr. Loveheart adjusted his spectacles and glanced into the dusty room, expecting to find a dusty Pierre cursing under his breath for making a foolish error. He did not, however, find him anywhere. Looking around the room, he turned over charred tables, tossed melted chairs, and avoided the chemicals that slowly began to mix. He reached for the fire extinguisher to put out some of the small fires that occurred, worry slowly moving up his throat wanting him to scream. Stepping-no, inching, over he saw the corner of a ripped, red, science shirt under some rubble. He slowly shoved away the fallen debris, only to find the dead body of Pierre Solepanza. It was thing moment, and this moment only, that Dr. Loveheart allowed himself to scream of terror and anguish. His beloved student was dead.

Soon after this discovery, the other teachers that heard him called the police out of fright and worry of their proud co-worker. No one dared to enter room 301B out of fear as to what actually happened in that room. Teachers released their students early and huddled in the teacher’s lounge to try and make out what could have possibly happened.

  . . .

Morning at the police station was always busy, especially today. Crime waves were spreading like wildfire around the area and the units were stretched thin. When the call for the bone-chilling scream came in, they had no idea how they would get people there in time. After hanging up with a staff member at the Oscurok State University hung up, they immediately called Inspector Lovegood to check out the scene of the crime. “It was a call concerning your brother, Inspector, we think you would make the cut to go in and check it out.” They had said to him as he rose, groggy-eyed from his slumber and got ready to head to his brother’s work spot. He always found his brother a slight bit on the hysteria side, but not to scream in the morning, scaring everyone. His jumped into his small, banged-up smart car, and drove over to the university.

. . .  

By the time Inspector Lovegood arrived, his brother was outside of his classroom and sitting in the teacher’s lounge, rocking uncontrollably. He stepped into the room with an air one that is famous might use. Upon seeing his sibling, Dr. Loveheart ran over to him and exclaimed, grasping for breath, “Brother! He died! Exploded, he did! Please find this disastrous murderer that seeks for prey on our grounds!” With that, he slinked back to the chair and accepted a teacher’s offer of tea. Inspector Loveheart walked over to the huddled creature, realizing this was not just a game, and sternly requested, “Where is your room, Artemis, where did this happen?” The sickly creature pointed a boney finger down the hall to room 301B. The door remained on the ground and Inspector Loveheart cursed to himself for not seeing such an obvious sign. he paced down the dark hall and stepped into the dark room, observing his surroundings.

To his left, sat his brother’s desk and to his right were the tables for experiments. They were fairly fine, only the slightest charred from the explosion. As he continued forward, he noticed the desks farther down were a darker black. Broken test-tubes littered the floor and crumbled holders sat on the ground, completely destroyed. He walked to the far corner of the room and saw the body. He barely knew the chap but was still deeply hurt to see Pierre Solepanza lie on the ground, his body contorted from the explosion. In his hand was a shattered tube that held a black chemical. “Must have been holding it during the explosion.” he muttered to himself. Looking up at the wall behind his was a wall, blood speckled across it in a splatter-painted fashion. Looking at how Pierre’s body lied, Inspector Loveheart deducted that the explosion came from the opposite side of the room. He looked on the broken wall, to no avail. He checked the tops of the tables and chairs, also finding nothing. He then looked under the table and saw a black, home-made bomb that was partly destroyed sitting there. “That has to be it!” he exclaimed and headed out of the room to inform his brother, wondering at the same time why someone would want to plant a bomb there to kill Pierre. After informing Dr. Loveheart, he watched as his brother, along with a couple of other teachers, fall into sobbing heaps at the loss of their best student who had so much potential in life. Inspector Loveheart stood there thinking he had some form of an idea as to who pulled this crime.

. . .

John sat up in bed, fully refreshed, for once, and got ready for the day. Today would be the last time he would see his nerdy friend forever, he hoped. He went down the stairs and saw the burnt classroom and the sobbing teachers and stood stalk-still as he realized what had happened. He gasped and turned around to run back to his dorm, panic-stricken.

“Mister could you come here a moment.” called Inspector Loveheart as he realized the figure running back into the shadows.

John grimaced as he turned around. He slowly walked over to the inspector with a wary eye on him. He looked up at him. He was standing at only 5’ 6’’ and the inspector was 6’ 5’’.

“Sure, Inspector Loveheart what seems to be the problem around here? Is Pierre okay?” he inquired. He also looked around anxiously as the teachers glared at him as if they expected HIM to have done something; even though he did.

“I just wanted to lead you into this room over here, it seems to be a bit charred so watch your step.” The inspector said as he tapped on the door, causing it to fall over once more.

Josh and the inspector walked into the room. They maneuvered their way around the blackened desks.  They jumped over pieces of rubble. The two finally made it over to the small corner where Pierre’s body- and the bomb, lied. Josh could barely look at the soul and turned his back around. Inspector Loveheart was watching intently.

“It seems you knew Pierre well.” He mentioned as Josh finally turned back to the body. Josh sighed and muttered, incoherent as to what the inspector said, “I can’t believe I caused this… I didn’t mean to- I swear to it!” Inspector Loveheart took great interest into this statement and then added, “I implore you, Mr. Van Dublin, to tell me everything that has happened on the night before the murder between you and Pierre. It may just prove your innocence.”

John looked up, tears in his eyes, and began to explain. He told everything. he told about how much Pierre annoyed him, how jealous he was of his brilliance in science, how the teachers preferred Pierre over him. He then proceeded to the plan more gingerly. He explained the bomb he had set and how he had it set to go off tonight to injure Pierre away from the campus. He also said how the bomb was homemade so it probably went off earlier than expected. He didn’t know either way that the bomb would do this much damage. At the end of this tale of sorrow, he broke down into a burst of tears that made his eyes puffy and his cheeks have streaks on them.

Now this entire time, Inspector Lovegood had listened to the alibi. He looked at the bomb with great time and precautions. He lifted up the destroyed table to expose the bomb. He jumped back and instructed the boy to deactivate the bomb. John looked up, shocked, and said, almost sharply, “Did you even listen to me, old man? The bomb went off! Off I say! I will do as you wish, only there is no point as the bomb will be empty of the charge I set inside of it.” He crawled over to the bomb and tugged at a series of cords to hear the bomb click and a woman’s voice clearly say, “YOUR BOMB HAS BEEN DEACTIVATED. HAVE A NICE DAY.”

John was dumb-founded. He stood there motionless as the bomb’s electric blue timer dimmed off and it completely crashed the charged exiting in a safe manner. He looked up at the inspector, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. “Is this some kind of joke, Inspector? How could this bomb be going, ticking down, if the explosion has already occurred? Pray tell me the answers!”  he said. The inspector was now chuckling and he sat down next to the boy. He cleared his throat and began his explanation.

“Well, my dear boy, it is all very simple indeed. You went in, as you explained, with a bomb that would injure poor Pierre Solepanza. You set the bomb under the table in front of us and proceeded to walk out. As you did, however, you bumped into Mr. Solepanza’s concoction, making it overly stirred. The next day, Pierre did not notice the change in it and went to go test it out, starting with the corner with the bomb. When he went to swirl the mixture in the smallest bit, it became even more dangerous than before, and exploded. The bomb, that happened to be there, made it seem it was murder and not the actual accidental death that it was. You are innocent John Van Dublin, but you ought to tell the police of this story so they will have it documented.” Inspector Loveheart finished with a entitled air and stood up to leave.

John scrambled up as well gasping, “So wait, sir, I’m free to go? After taking to the police of course but after that I’m okay? It seems almost unbelievable!” Inspector turned around replying, “Would you rather be in jail?” John shook his head no and bolted out of the crime scene. He ran into the police and explained the entire story, the inspector claiming the story true, and went back to the dorm to get some well-needed rest. He gratefully took the opportunity to leave.

Looking up at the white ceiling, john thought to himself, “Pierre, wherever you are, I want you to know that I am sorry for my cruel ways and I also hope you live up there prosperously. See you later, chum.” He fell asleep soon after.

The daytime sun began its everlasting, never stopping journey across the sky. It swept warm rays across Oscurok State University, as it did always. This time it was different. This time, the dorky Pierre Solepanza was not there to disturb everyone else with his chatter. Some people were the slightest bit happy while some, mostly John, mourned over the loss of their smart peer.

 

Morning slowly rose upon Oscurok State University. As the sun began its steady never-stopping journey across the sky, dorm room doors began to creep open slowly as college students avoided waking one-another. One in particular, Pierre Solepanza, was a clumsy, but brilliant, student. Pierre bustled out of the room flinging the door open, then closed again, and headed to the shower. Within the rooms that were still closed, students groaned after being awakened from the peaceful slumber. One of these agitated peers was twenty-year-old John VanDublin that lived across the hall from Pierre. Flinging off the covers, he went to tell the scatterbrained soul off.

“Pierre!” he exclaimed coming down the hall, calling for Mr. Solepanza in a gruff, burly voice.

Poking his small, tan head out, Pierre inquired, “Yes, John? I don’t mind discussing different matters with you, but I must get into the shower as I need to be in the science lab by 9:45.”

John glared at the figure before him. Pierre was a man, nineteen years of age to be precise, with a long, lengthy body and elongated arms. Every day, Pierre wore a different, science-related shirt with jeans and a pair of red Converse sneakers. Up on his head was a mass of dark chocolate hair. His eyes were brown with a milky-like feel to them. Pierre also carried around a laptop bag that consisted of his textbook and multiple notebooks. His laptop was always kept in his dorm, which he lived in by himself, and was used for academic purposes only. To everyone at Oscurok State, Pierre was the typical nerd or dork everyone avoided. Everything Pierre did made John bubble with fury, also envy but no one was to know about that!

John realized he had been staring at the spot Pierre stood for quite some time now, and quickly turned to return to his dorm and attempt to fall asleep again. Lying down in his soft, comfortable comforter, John realized he had to get rid of Pierre so this feeling of jealousy would go away once and for all!

Pierre decided he would take the longer, more serene path to the science lab. His hair was a flopping damp mop that was just starting to dry. Pierre always took the healthy way of everything, including his shampoo. “To keep myself thinking healthy, I must have a healthy scalp.” he had once said to a very aggravated John one morning. From this, Pierre Solepanza only used Head and Shoulders shampoo. Arriving to the science lab, Pierre scanned his ID card and entered the lab into class 301B as he pulled on his lab coat. Pierre studied with chemicals in his lab. Surrounding him was all different colored liquids, ranging from the lightest pink to the darkest brown.

All of the college kids were not permitted to be in class 301B without adult supervision as some chemicals were able to kill in a matter of minutes while some were explosive. Like, they are unbelievably explosive. For example, if a bomb were to go off… Anyways, Pierre was the only one that was trusted to be alone there. Honestly, he was a dork, what illegal thing would he even do?

Slowly, minutes crept by and the instructor, Dr. Loveheart, he was Inspector Love heart’s brother, came into the room. “How’s the work going, Pierre?” he asked with a broad voice. Pierre was used to this sand did not jump to the sound of his voice anymore. “Excellent! Wonderful! Right now I am observing this blue-green chemical to decide if it could help the public in any way! It does not clean very well and it is not flammable and I have noticed bugs that happen to fly into this room stay away from where I am so maybe it could be a potential liquid that can keep insects away from your home.” Pierre glanced up with thick goggles on his face that were scratched around the edges from small chemical explosions, nothing serious.

The instructor always enjoyed what Pierre had to say, then again, all of the instructors enjoyed, no wait, savored what he had to say. That was one of the things that made John allow envy to slither up to him and grab him by the heart with its cold, menacing hands. Pierre got whatever it was he wanted, as long as it had to do with school, of course! Right then, as Pierre exclaimed about his discovery of this chemical, all he could think was that Pierre was going to go far; maybe a possible Nobel Peace Prize, or something of the sort. Dr. Loveheart went over toPierre and started to ask him about the contents of this chemical.

. . .

John sat in his bed, planning, thinking, designing the perfect trap for the unsuspecting Pierre. He was stuck between stabbing the poor soul or creating a bomb and planting it in his dorm room. He threw both ideas aside and then thought of the perfect idea incorporating the idea of a bomb. Every morning at 9:45 on the dot, Pierre would go to the science lab and sit there working on who-knows-what alone. Alone! That’s what would help him commit such a devilish crime.  Thinking he was as sly as a fox, John sat down at his desk and began to write his plan. No more would he have to put up with this person that took over the minds of the instructors and professors. He could finally be the center of attention!

. . .

As the end of the day rolled around and students went to their dormitories to study, work on homework, or socialize, Pierre remained in the science lab to do some more work on the blue-green chemical he named, Bug-Be-Gone! He sat staring at it for a small amount of time when there was a knock at the door. Puzzled, Pierre went over and opened to find John standing there with a couple supplies with him. Pierre was shocked as he could not identify the box John held clasped between his hands. The box was about the size of a normal sized computer monitor and was decorated in blues, reds, and purples. “Hello, John. I am most certainly surprised by your visit to this place at such a time of night since it seems that since is not your, how should I put it, yes, your thing.” Pierre stated as he ushered John into the room and sat down at a desk stool in front of him. “Yes, you must be very surprised to see that some people go out of the dorms at night besides you.” John sneered as he put down the box and stared into the brown eyes set in front of him.

Pierre and John stared at each for quite a long period of time, measuring each other to see if one of them were crazy or not. Deciding both were at least some-what sane, they both left each other’s gaze and John explained his reasoning for arriving. “I know you have been working here for quite some time now, why don’t you go to sleep now and I’ll lock up this place.” He stated. Pierre thought about the proposal that had been made. It was a splendid idea because he was tired from the study of Bug-Be-Gone, but he didn’t want John to find it and take all of the credit for it. Deciding he could trust the man, he replied, “Yes, I am quite tired and I don’t think my bed as sounded this nice until now! I will go and work tomorrow morning at 9:45 as I always do. Thank you for this offer, John-have a good night!” he turned on his heel and left to the boys’ dorms to refresh him for the work the next day.

John was almost giddy from excitement. It worked! That blasted nerd actually left the room for him to attach the bomb to a small corner of the wall. He opened the box; it was decorated like a kids show as to prevent Pierre from asking him a question about it. Inside was a small bomb that was set to be deactivated in three days. He had planned on setting it for the next day but decided that the poor boy needed some time to live before he left our world-the college world anyways. The bomb was to injure him disastrously to send him home, away from Oscurok State University! Chuckling to himself, he placed the bomb in the corner and double checked that it was set for three days and not the one day he had thought of before. Pleased with himself, he locked up like he promised and began to walk to the door. He accidentally bumped into a blue-green chemical, sending it to the floor. It was luckily in a plastic test tube and was placed on the test tube rack shaken a little so that the color looked a little scarlet, like blood.

The next morning was the same as the last. The sun rose once again and Pierre slammed the door as he went to the bathroom to wash up with his Head and Shoulders shampoo and have his hair look like a mop on his head. Pierre went down the same serene path to the exact same science to lab to work more on the blue-green Bug-Be-Gone. Opening the door with his ID card, he bustled over to the table that held the test tube rack for his invention and saw it had the same blue-green hue to it. Not a hint of scarlet was there. Pierre sat and started testing the subject on different areas of the room to see if it still worked in keeping the insects away. He dipped a cotton swab into the mixture and began to swirl it slightly, the bones in his wrist rotating in a clockwise manner. The mixture became the slight scarlet, as expected from the student, and then a midnight black. Pierre jumped trying to get rid of the chemical, but it was too late, the deed had been done.

. . .

Dr. Loveheart laid in bed, thinking on how he would demonstrate the proper way to swirl a test tube full of chemicals to his freshman class. This would not be a problem for Pierre; he thought to himself, he got everything as quickly as it came out of his own mouth. Wondering how Pierre’s experiment was going, the room was shaken, jolting violently from side-to-side. Dr. Loveheart jumped out of the bed and dressed himself into his clothes and dashing like a mad-man to room classroom 301B. Putting his hand on the doorknob, he slowly started to turn it but the door fell forward, tumbling down, falling ever-so-slowly. Dr. Loveheart adjusted his spectacles and glanced into the dusty room, expecting to find a dusty Pierre cursing under his breath for making a foolish error. He did not, however, find him anywhere. Looking around the room, he turned over charred tables, tossed melted chairs, and avoided the chemicals that slowly began to mix. He reached for the fire extinguisher to put out some of the small fires that occurred, worry slowly moving up his throat wanting him to scream. Stepping-no, inching, over he saw the corner of a ripped, red, science shirt under some rubble. He slowly shoved away the fallen debris, only to find the dead body of Pierre Solepanza. It was thing moment, and this moment only, that Dr. Loveheart allowed himself to scream of terror and anguish. His beloved student was dead.

Soon after this discovery, the other teachers that heard him called the police out of fright and worry of their proud co-worker. No one dared to enter room 301B out of fear as to what actually happened in that room. Teachers released their students early and huddled in the teacher’s lounge to try and make out what could have possibly happened.

  . . .

Morning at the police station was always busy, especially today. Crime waves were spreading like wildfire around the area and the units were stretched thin. When the call for the bone-chilling scream came in, they had no idea how they would get people there in time. After hanging up with a staff member at the Oscurok State University hung up, they immediately called Inspector Lovegood to check out the scene of the crime. “It was a call concerning your brother, Inspector, we think you would make the cut to go in and check it out.” They had said to him as he rose, groggy-eyed from his slumber and got ready to head to his brother’s work spot. He always found his brother a slight bit on the hysteria side, but not to scream in the morning, scaring everyone. His jumped into his small, banged-up smart car, and drove over to the university.

. . .  

By the time Inspector Lovegood arrived, his brother was outside of his classroom and sitting in the teacher’s lounge, rocking uncontrollably. He stepped into the room with an air one that is famous might use. Upon seeing his sibling, Dr. Loveheart ran over to him and exclaimed, grasping for breath, “Brother! He died! Exploded, he did! Please find this disastrous murderer that seeks for prey on our grounds!” With that, he slinked back to the chair and accepted a teacher’s offer of tea. Inspector Loveheart walked over to the huddled creature, realizing this was not just a game, and sternly requested, “Where is your room, Artemis, where did this happen?” The sickly creature pointed a boney finger down the hall to room 301B. The door remained on the ground and Inspector Loveheart cursed to himself for not seeing such an obvious sign. he paced down the dark hall and stepped into the dark room, observing his surroundings.

To his left, sat his brother’s desk and to his right were the tables for experiments. They were fairly fine, only the slightest charred from the explosion. As he continued forward, he noticed the desks farther down were a darker black. Broken test-tubes littered the floor and crumbled holders sat on the ground, completely destroyed. He walked to the far corner of the room and saw the body. He barely knew the chap but was still deeply hurt to see Pierre Solepanza lie on the ground, his body contorted from the explosion. In his hand was a shattered tube that held a black chemical. “Must have been holding it during the explosion.” he muttered to himself. Looking up at the wall behind his was a wall, blood speckled across it in a splatter-painted fashion. Looking at how Pierre’s body lied, Inspector Loveheart deducted that the explosion came from the opposite side of the room. He looked on the broken wall, to no avail. He checked the tops of the tables and chairs, also finding nothing. He then looked under the table and saw a black, home-made bomb that was partly destroyed sitting there. “That has to be it!” he exclaimed and headed out of the room to inform his brother, wondering at the same time why someone would want to plant a bomb there to kill Pierre. After informing Dr. Loveheart, he watched as his brother, along with a couple of other teachers, fall into sobbing heaps at the loss of their best student who had so much potential in life. Inspector Loveheart stood there thinking he had some form of an idea as to who pulled this crime.

. . .

John sat up in bed, fully refreshed, for once, and got ready for the day. Today would be the last time he would see his nerdy friend forever, he hoped. He went down the stairs and saw the burnt classroom and the sobbing teachers and stood stalk-still as he realized what had happened. He gasped and turned around to run back to his dorm, panic-stricken.

“Mister could you come here a moment.” called Inspector Loveheart as he realized the figure running back into the shadows.

John grimaced as he turned around. He slowly walked over to the inspector with a wary eye on him. He looked up at him. He was standing at only 5’ 6’’ and the inspector was 6’ 5’’.

“Sure, Inspector Loveheart what seems to be the problem around here? Is Pierre okay?” he inquired. He also looked around anxiously as the teachers glared at him as if they expected HIM to have done something; even though he did.

“I just wanted to lead you into this room over here, it seems to be a bit charred so watch your step.” The inspector said as he tapped on the door, causing it to fall over once more.

Josh and the inspector walked into the room. They maneuvered their way around the blackened desks.  They jumped over pieces of rubble. The two finally made it over to the small corner where Pierre’s body- and the bomb, lied. Josh could barely look at the soul and turned his back around. Inspector Loveheart was watching intently.

“It seems you knew Pierre well.” He mentioned as Josh finally turned back to the body. Josh sighed and muttered, incoherent as to what the inspector said, “I can’t believe I caused this… I didn’t mean to- I swear to it!” Inspector Loveheart took great interest into this statement and then added, “I implore you, Mr. Van Dublin, to tell me everything that has happened on the night before the murder between you and Pierre. It may just prove your innocence.”

John looked up, tears in his eyes, and began to explain. He told everything. he told about how much Pierre annoyed him, how jealous he was of his brilliance in science, how the teachers preferred Pierre over him. He then proceeded to the plan more gingerly. He explained the bomb he had set and how he had it set to go off tonight to injure Pierre away from the campus. He also said how the bomb was homemade so it probably went off earlier than expected. He didn’t know either way that the bomb would do this much damage. At the end of this tale of sorrow, he broke down into a burst of tears that made his eyes puffy and his cheeks have streaks on them.

Now this entire time, Inspector Lovegood had listened to the alibi. He looked at the bomb with great time and precautions. He lifted up the destroyed table to expose the bomb. He jumped back and instructed the boy to deactivate the bomb. John looked up, shocked, and said, almost sharply, “Did you even listen to me, old man? The bomb went off! Off I say! I will do as you wish, only there is no point as the bomb will be empty of the charge I set inside of it.” He crawled over to the bomb and tugged at a series of cords to hear the bomb click and a woman’s voice clearly say, “YOUR BOMB HAS BEEN DEACTIVATED. HAVE A NICE DAY.”

John was dumb-founded. He stood there motionless as the bomb’s electric blue timer dimmed off and it completely crashed the charged exiting in a safe manner. He looked up at the inspector, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. “Is this some kind of joke, Inspector? How could this bomb be going, ticking down, if the explosion has already occurred? Pray tell me the answers!”  he said. The inspector was now chuckling and he sat down next to the boy. He cleared his throat and began his explanation.

“Well, my dear boy, it is all very simple indeed. You went in, as you explained, with a bomb that would injure poor Pierre Solepanza. You set the bomb under the table in front of us and proceeded to walk out. As you did, however, you bumped into Mr. Solepanza’s concoction, making it overly stirred. The next day, Pierre did not notice the change in it and went to go test it out, starting with the corner with the bomb. When he went to swirl the mixture in the smallest bit, it became even more dangerous than before, and exploded. The bomb, that happened to be there, made it seem it was murder and not the actual accidental death that it was. You are innocent John Van Dublin, but you ought to tell the police of this story so they will have it documented.” Inspector Loveheart finished with a entitled air and stood up to leave.

John scrambled up as well gasping, “So wait, sir, I’m free to go? After taking to the police of course but after that I’m okay? It seems almost unbelievable!” Inspector turned around replying, “Would you rather be in jail?” John shook his head no and bolted out of the crime scene. He ran into the police and explained the entire story, the inspector claiming the story true, and went back to the dorm to get some well-needed rest. He gratefully took the opportunity to leave.

Looking up at the white ceiling, john thought to himself, “Pierre, wherever you are, I want you to know that I am sorry for my cruel ways and I also hope you live up there prosperously. See you later, chum.” He fell asleep soon after.

The daytime sun began its everlasting, never stopping journey across the sky. It swept warm rays across Oscurok State University, as it did always. This time it was different. This time, the dorky Pierre Solepanza was not there to disturb everyone else with his chatter. Some people were the slightest bit happy while some, mostly John, mourned over the loss of their smart peer.


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