Chapter 1
by Joseph F. Timothy Norque was rarely confused. He was a world-renowned detective who had solved an unnatural amount of cases. People called it luck when he solved 50 and called it genius at 300. The last time he was confused, Norque started to turn back time with his impeccable memory, was when he was at the age of five. He had lost his favorite toy. He at one moment had it and the next didn’t. He cried for days upon weeks because he couldn’t find it. It wasn’t a very good memory. However, on that day Norque told himself that he would lose anything again. From that day on he would never succumb to confusion. Yet, here it was again. The pit in his stomach. The pain in his brain. No, this feeling wasn’t very welcome. Before Norque laid a corpse. Beaten and battered, almost to a pulp. No officer around him could stand to look it for more than 5 seconds. “I’m going to be sick.” One moaned. Truly it was a horrific scene. What confused Norque was not the body, but all the things that surrounded it. Footprints the size of a hound rested on the sidewalk. Witnesses around the murder claimed they heard a loud roar at 3am. What Norque was dealing with was abnormal. There was something unnatural at work, something inhuman. Norque decided that it would be best to ponder in his office. He looked over photos and accounts but couldn’t make sense of it. What the photos displayed was an attack that required tremendous strength. Yet there was no trace of weapons at the scene. Accounts state that they heard horrendous roars and terrible stomping. However no one even caught a glimpse of the scene. This case was an anomaly onto itself. At 7am Norque decided to take a break, he needed fresh air from his stuffy office. His head thumped and thumped as he sat inside the diner. “Excuse me sir, what will you be having?” The waitress asked, interrupting his train of thought. As he rubbed his temple he ordered, “A dark roast, 5 sugars, no cream.” *ruuuummmmble* Norque considered his stomach, “And a stack of buttermilk pancakes.” It was 9am when he left the diner. Rejuvenated he walked back towards his office. He could feel the morning winter breeze brush his skin. He pushed into the main entrance. “Clear your head?” The secretary asked. “Of course, Janice, of course.” Norque replied. But when he entered his office once more. The wave of worrying confusion hit him once more. Truly this was the mystery of the century. Joseph F. is a freshman at FHS. He is a self-described "lover of comics and competent writer." He enjoys creating comic books in his free time.
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About Epiphany
Epiphany Literary Magazine is a safe space for students at Franklin High School to share their creativity. Archives '16-'20
June 2020
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