My name is Naoto Shirogane. I'm a detective. Right now, I'm in a bit of a difficult situation. I guess it deserves some explanation. After all, it's not every day I end up hanging upside down in the lair of a cannibalistic serial killer.

I prefer to work with the police, but sometimes I take on private investigations. This was one of those cases. It seems a man disappeared and his family was desperate to find him. The problem is, with no evidence of foul play, the police couldn't do anything about it. A grown man has the right to disappear if he wants to. It's not exactly a rare occurrence either. A guy gets sick of his family and takes off. Just as long as there are no legal tie-ups involved, there's no reason for the police to get involved. Well, this particular man's family was sure he didn't just take off. They hired me to find out what happened.

There was pretty much nothing to go on just by looking at this single disappearance. Interestingly, other people in the area had also gone missing recently. The police didn't see the cases as connected; the victims had nothing in common and it's a pretty big city. It decided to look at several of the cases as if they were part of a series and wouldn't you know it, I found a pattern. Long story short, the evidence led me to a warehouse.

I arrived at the warehouse alone, expecting to find more clues, not a killer. I picked the lock easily enough. Once inside, it was clear that something was amiss. The place was supposed to be abandoned, but there were lights on and other signs of recent habitation. Nothing about the place was threatening, but I still had a bad feeling about the whole thing. Still, I needed evidence to back up my hunch. I drew my gun and held it at the ready while I continued to investigate. There was a freezer that seemed out of place. It wasn't the kind of thing you'd expect a squatter to have, so I decided to have a look inside. It was full of various cuts of meat, but some of them were identifiable. It was human.

I pulled out my phone to call the police, but there was no signal. I'd have to head outside. I turned to leave only to come face-to-face with a man in blood-splattered clothes. I raised my weapon but he was too fast, knocking the gun out of my hand before I could pull the trigger. I pushed him away and turned to run but he was faster. I was tackled to the ground hard. I felt an arm around my neck and my consciousness started to fade. Then the lights went out.

So here I am, hanging upside down, arms and legs bound. I wonder why he didn't just kill me. Maybe he thought he did. It's harder to kill someone by manual strangulation than the movies would have you believe. There's no point thinking about it, I've got to escape. I'm in handcuffs, my handcuffs. That's a good thing. The key to breaking out of handcuffs is to have the key and I have lots of keys. The killer checked my pockets and took that set, but I've got others. I reach up to find that the set hidden in my shoe is still there, so I grab it and free my hands. I reach up again and grab the chain I'm hanging from. I pull myself up enough to get free from the hook at its end. I lower myself to the ground as softly as possible.

My legs are bound with tape. It's strong enough to hold my body weight, the tape being what the hook was holding me by, so I don't think I'll just be able to rip it off. Luckily I have more tricks up my sleeve. I pull out a small blade hidden in a secret pocket in my sleeve. With difficulty, I cut through the tape. I guess I'll need to sharpen it. I put the blade back and take a look at my surroundings. I'm in a small room with only one door. There's a drain in the floor, a floor stained with blood. I guess he meant to butcher me here later. The door has a small window in it. I walk to the door as quietly as I can and carefully peek through the small window. The door leads to the main room where I'd encountered the killer. He's in there, sharpening a knife. I can see my gun on a table between us. It's much closer to me. I can make it.

I throw the door open and rush for my gun. I reach it before the killer even stands. He casually gets out of his chair, still brandishing the knife, and starts to approach me. "You're under arrest!" I shout, my voice less authoritative than I would have liked. "Put the weapon down or I'll shoot!" He keeps walking. I aim my revolver straight at his chest. He's not stopping. I pull the trigger. Click. I pull it again. Click. What? Click, click, click, click.

"Looking for these?" He taunts. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out my bullets. "You're a persistent one." He says with a smile. "Most people give up once I've got them hung up. This just makes the game more fun." Suddenly, he lunges at me with the knife. I try to dodge, but I'm not quite quick enough. It just catches me, plunging into the edge of my torso. For some reason, I don't feel any pain. It must be the adrenaline. There are no organs or important blood vessels where the knife is, so I should be alright.

He's close enough for me to do this now. I kick him in the groin with all my strength. He doubles over in pain, letting go of the knife and leaving it firmly planted in my side. I stagger back a few steps. It's starting to hurt now. He recovers with shocking swiftness. Before I can react he's upon me, driving me to the ground. I feel his hands close around my neck. I've got to do something now or I'm dead. Of course.

I rip the knife out of myself and jam it into the side of his neck. His grip lightens and I pull the knife back out. Blood gushes from the wound as I stab him again, just to make sure. The killer goes limp and falls on top of me. I manage to squirm out from underneath him. Covered in blood, both the killer's and my own, I stagger outside. I manage to get the attention of a passing motorist who calls the police. He uses his shirt to fashion a makeshift bandage for me. The police arrive in minutes, followed soon after by an ambulance. They tell me my wound is bad, but that the knife missed everything important. I had guessed as much. I don't think I'd be conscious if it hadn't.

I got lucky. The killer had me, and could easily have killed me if he'd chosen to do so. I'll need to be more careful in the future. I shouldn't be doing this alone. Maybe Chie would be willing to join me. She wants to be a police officer, and joining me on my investigations would be good practice. I'd feel a lot safer with her watching my back; I've seen the way she can kick. I'll call her later. I'm going to be busy. First I'm going to need some surgery, and then the police are going to want a full account of what happened. Then I'm going to need some time to think. I won't get lucky like this again.