Jericho The Bard A VRMMORPG Story 58 Something I Cannot Share

Staul chuckled. "See? Smelling something brought his mind back to reality."

Jericho groaned. "Staul? Why are you here?"

"Moira called me in a panic. You weren't responding at all to her and I was the first person that came to her mind."

Jericho chuckled weakly. "Thanks and sorry. Let me warm up some herbal tea. It's a bit chilly in here now." He stood and slowly moved towards the kitchen as his muscles regained their strength.

"No need to be sorry Jerry. But I will accept your offer. I'll call in and tell the rest of the work staff I am going to be extra late today so we can talk," Staul suggested.

Jericho filled a pan with water to heat up. While the water slowly came closer to a boil, Jericho taped up the window. "It's foggy outside today," he muttered while gazing out at the humidity with his empty eyes.

"Gath," Moira quietly said near her brother. She walked over to the piano and tapped a few keys. "Come play something Jericho. I'll take care of the tea and clean up the gla.s.s."

Jericho half smiled. "So, my acting still can't fool you," he replied and complied. He sat down. His fingers landed on the treble side of the piano. A patterned melody soon formed.

Staul smiled. "I don't think I have heard this one before."

Moira started humming a very different tune that harmonized with the piece Jericho was playing. She poured the hot water into the mugs and dipped in the tea bags. The cups were brought to the table.

Jericho finished playing and sighed. "Thanks Moira."

Staul coughed. "Jericho, shouldn't you report this incident to the police? This isn't a petty crime, this is a threat."

Jericho's chest tightened in frustration, shortening his breath. His lifeless eyes scanned through his contacts list.

The call connected and a voice on the other side greeted. "New Castle Police Department; how may we help you?" the voice on the other line inquired.

"I would like to report a crime," Jericho replied plainly as if this wasn't the first time he had done so.

The conversation finished after a brief explanation. The police secretary informed him that officers would be dispatched to get the full report.

Jericho ended the call and looked over to the two sitting at the table drinking their hot drinks. "Moira, can I ask for a favor?" His pupils reflected a flicker of light from the living room light fixture.

The girl frowned as she knew what her brother was going to ask. "Fine, but you owe me an explanation later. Mr. Dante, it is cold outside and you are going to be behind work. Would you like some help with the weeds today? Jericho needs some alone time and probably doesn't want me here when the police come to talk to him."

Staul smiled sweetly, showing his concern. "That would be nice. But are you sure it is okay to leave your brother like this? I know he seems like he is okay, but rarely is someone actually okay after that type of event."

Moira nodded. "I know, but sometimes being alone helps as well. I know my brothers better than anyone, Mr. Dante. Right now, being alone will be the best thing for him."

Jericho gave a nod. He agreed with his sister's words even when most concerned parents would beg to differ.

"Alright then, after I finish up we can go," the older man consented as he lifted the mug that was half filled with tea.

The girl walked into her room and hastily got ready for the day.

"Jerry, are you sure you want to be alone right now?" Staul inquired.

"Yeah," he replied not saying much.

A knock at the door interrupted the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Staul Dante sighed. "That was fast. Jerry, it looks like they are here."

Jericho nodded and left to open the front door.

"Jericho Larson?" A gruff male voice inquired.

The minstrel nodded. "I am."

"I'm Officer Smith and this is my partner Detective Lance. May we come in?"

Jericho motioned for them to enter the house and showed them to the couch. "Before we talk, can we wait a minute? My little sister is getting ready to head out the door with a trustworthy friend of mine."

Officer Smith nodded. "Of course; while we wait, why don't you show us the letter you were talking about?"

Moira who had just walked out of the room sighed. "I'll see you later, Jericho. I have my house key in case you need to lock up."

"Thanks." Jericho sighed as the door shut. He turned to face the two law enforcers. "Officer, detective," he started. "Is The Conductor still in prison for killing my parents?"

Detective Lance gave a nod as he pulled out a recording device. "Yes. The Conductor, or Larry Peters is still in prison. He hasn't had much outside contact, if any. However, we won't treat this lightly. Even if this is just some teenage prank we will get to the bottom of this. I hope you don't mind us recording our conversation every detail helps. So what can you tell me about the situation?"

Jericho sat silently as he struggled to find the voice to speak. "I became happy again… Someone must have seen it. That rock and letter are all the evidence there is." Jericho held his fingers up to his temples as he muttered quietly. "Once again it is going to be my fault if anything happens."

Detective Lance sighed. "Mr. Larson, I can tell this weighs on you. Take a deep breath and tell us more about why."

Jericho did as directed. "It's the same as last time."

Officer Smith leaned forward on his clasped hands.

"7 years ago, I received an almost identical letter. My parents suffered hards.h.i.+p after hards.h.i.+p until a little over 6 years ago, they were murdered. The letter from last time should be in your archives but I remember it clearly."

Jericho quoted the old letter.

"Who gave you the right to be happy you fiend in human flesh? The Symphony of Jericho Maestro's Lament shall be played. You have been warned. The First Movement begins now.

-The Conductor-"

The detective read the current letter aloud.

Jericho nodded. "This letter is almost no different except for bringing up the past as well. First my father received a few setbacks at work. The place he originally worked closed down causing him to lose his job. Then my mother got injured. Things spiraled downhill very quickly. If it wasn't for my grandparents at the time, we would have lost everything."

The officer and detective gave a nod. "There is a theme here. What can you tell us about why this person might be calling you a fiend?"

Jericho remained silent, thinking about how his happy-go-lucky counterpart would answer.

"Mr. Larson, if you don't talk with us, how can we help you?"

The bard shook his head, as he dismissed those thoughts. "That, is something I can't share unless you are privy to knowing what happened back more than a couple of centuries ago with the game Final Choice Online. Even Moira, my little sister, doesn't know."

The detective Mr. Lance frowned. "What does that have to do with the current situation? And how do you know about it?"

Jericho sighed. "Absolutely everything; but, if you don't know what happened back then, I can't tell you about it. However, wasting time getting the clearance to obtain that information will be more a hindrance than a help. As for how I know, it is simply because it has a direct impact on my life. I can tell you this. There was a man by the name of Lynkoln La.r.s.en."

"Lincoln?"

Jericho half smiled at the interruption. "Close; it is spelled L.Y.N.K.O.L.N and Larson with an E and not an O. He was from the western states over two centuries ago. You could call him one of the unfortunate survivors of the events that happened back then. I hope any discoveries you make do not change your att.i.tude towards helping me and my sister. When the officers that were working the case that happened seven years ago, they found the information and refused to help afterwards."

"Of course, no matter what we find, justice will happen. But to be clear, you are telling us to look up Lynkoln instead of trying to obtain information regarding the game you mentioned?"

Jericho shook his head and closed his eyes. Detectives were all the same, trying to find out every piece of information they could from the small clues.
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The two officers waited for the man to continue.

Despite the oppressive atmosphere Jericho leaked; he kept focused and maintained a surface calm. "Last time, The Conductor paid attention to details. If this person follows after the same pattern as last time, they will follow the layout of a symphony."

"I see you are avoiding the earlier question. Can you explain what you mean when you say a layout of a symphony?" Detective Lance inquired.

Jericho slowly nodded. His eyes were still closed. "A typical symphony has four movements. He called this the first movement. Last time my father lost his job followed by my mother getting seriously injured. In the first movement of a typical symphony the male melody is introduced prior to the melody of the female part. The note said The First Movement has already begun…" The bard paused and started quivering with anxiety. He silently cursed under his breath.

"What's wrong?" Officer Smith asked.

Realization slapped Jericho in the face. "Moira!" He shouted as his eyelids flipped open. His rage exploded. "My sister is in danger!" He pulled out his communication device and called Staul.

The man answered. "Jericho? What's up? We just barely arrived at the cemetery."

"Where's Moira? Is she safe?" Jericho asked in a panic.

"She's just in front of your parent's graves right now. Let me turn on the video call feature and walk over there."

The screen lit up showing the old grave keeper walking over to the girl who was standing over the grave.

"Moira!" Jericho called out.

The girl turned. "Brother? What's wrong?"

"Hurry and come back home! You are in danger!" Jericho shouted.

A light flashed through the fog.

A piercing young female scream echoed on the other side of the line just before the call was dropped.

"Officers, we need to go right now!" Jericho ordered as he slipped on his coat and rushed out the door.

The two police officers followed.

"Dispatch, call for an ambulance. The address is the Gracelawn Memorial Park. We are likely dealing with one or two victims of an unspecified laser-gun." Officer Smith spoke into the police communication device.

"We are on route."

In the police car Jericho and the two officials continued to talk. "Mr. Larson how did you come to the conclusion your sister was in danger? If you hadn't called…"

Jericho exhaled, as he tied to push away his anxiety. "The difference in the two letters; my father lost his job after I received the first letter that said it begins. I lost my job about two weeks ago and the letter said it had already begun. I can't believe I let Moira go out today."

"Stop beating yourself up," Officer Smith chided. "It won't help the current situation."

Detective Lance paused. "You lost your job two weeks ago?"

Jericho gave a nod.

The man wrote down some notes. "Where did you used to work?"

"Grandpa Todd's Antique Shop," Jericho answered reflexively.

The rest of the ride was silent except for the sounds of sirens.

"We are here. Direct us to where your parents' gravestones are."