The beach is strewn with debris and ruin, an utter devastation. The ocean has made cleaning up easier, leaving only one important thing. You could say, the biggest issue of all this madness:

Who killed the soldier?

The heroic man lays motionless on the beach, his face buried in the sand. There are no signs of violence, no blood or gashes to suggest foul play, but you can tell he’s dead with just one look.

It’s the stillness, the faint smell of death in the air.

Though, strangely, his uniform is in pristine condition, not a single stain or tear in sight. It clings to him like a shroud of honor. Yet, an odd thing, his socks are missing.

For soldiers, especially this one, socks are a big deal. He made sure to change them every day as needed. There’s no way he’d be in his uniform without wearing socks. It’s just one small detail, but it leaves everyone wondering:

Who killed the soldier and stole his socks?

A silly question but we have a dead man and that’s as serious as it gets. The detective walks along the shoreline, the EMT beside him. He stops multiple times to observe the destruction, e beautiful beach turned into a wasteland.

A tragedy—the once golden sand is now gray and conceals the scars of secret battles.

Once he reaches the soldier, he speaks, “Thank you for your service, sir. Your death shall not go unnoticed and your killer shall not roam the streets. May you rest peacefully.”

The EMT starts to pick the soldier up in order to put him in the body bag when he’s stopped by the forensic.

He says, “Please do not move this body. I’ve not yet determined the cause of death. I have to examine further.”

The detective is uneasy. “Can’t it be done at the precinct?”

The EMT crosses his arms. “Yeah, can’t it?”

The forensic doesn’t speak for a moment and instead observes the soldier once more. He isn’t one to give up easily but there is no evidence of how he has died. A silly thought crosses his mind but he lets it go.

“I like to be at the crime scene. It’s easier.” He finally says to the two men nervously awaiting his response.

The priest walks up to scene, greeting them, “Gentlemen.”

The three of them give friendly smiles. “Hello, father.”

The priest takes a look around and puts his hand on his chest where a cross is sewn onto his cassock. “A shame. Such a shame what this world has come to. There is nothing but war and violence. These poor people. This poor Soldier who risked his life to help us and yet we’ve taken from him. I can’t imagine the look on his face in his final moments.”

The forensic glances up at the priest, “Right,” He says, thinking further. “his face.”

He grabs the soldier by his arms and flips his body over to reveal his disfigured face. His eyes are wide open and his mouth closed, dried blood on his cheek.

An eerie silence falls over them, lasting until the forensic opens the soldier’s mouth and pulls out a crumbled up paper covered in blood and sand.

He reads it aloud, “I am corrupt.”

The detective finally throws up at hearing this. His body simply can’t take it and he falls to the floor, the pastor falling with him, squeezing his hand and speaking, “Son, I am always here for you.”

Kind words, yes. The same ones the soldier wish he could have heard. Only a few seconds pass before the forensic talks again. “We are suspects.”

None of the other men have anything to say to this. At this point, The EMT has sit down in the sand as well, everything becoming too overwhelming, defeat on his face.

The forensic flips the paper around and reads it aloud. “You are all killers.” The words are squished together and poorly written.

Again, nobody has anything to say. Nobody is able to defend themselves innocent because, truth is, they are all guilty. Still, amid this corrupt and unjust situation, though they all play important roles in the soldier’s death…

Only one of them killed him.