A Crime at UCG - 1

    This is an interactive crime novella, in which all UCG students are the investigator and one of you is the culprit. The aim: find the culprit to avoid further deaths. Some hints will appear throughout the novella They need to be deciphered in order to pursue the investigation. Tell us on our Instagram account (https://www.instagram.com/slash_ucg/) what you think! You can comment under the related post.

                                  Will YOU be able to stop the murderer?

It was supposed to be a regular morning. Everything seemed to be completely normal from the harsh wake-up after a memorable party in B3, to the usual cold biking to UCG.

When I arrived at the entrance, surprisingly the reception was empty. I heard some worried whispers in the air but nothing extraordinary as the exam week was coming. 

I still remember clearly what my first thought was: “ Huh, Hugo is not here?”. If only I knew. 

There was this weird smell in the air. I thought maybe the cleaners were still working on the stairs, so I decided to take the elevator for once. 

Strangely the weird smell intensified as I got closer. I saw one out of the two elevators still open. Lucky day!

As I got inside, the smell became so strong that it began to be hard to breathe. I thought of checking my clothes in the mirror to concentrate on something else. Suddenly, something liquid fell on my cheek, as if I had cried. I looked in the mirror and spotted this red trail coming from my eyes as if a tear was running down my face.

I slowly lifted my head. 

Then I saw it. An image that burned itself into my brain. The same image I would see every time I close my eyes. There he was, looking at me with his white eyes, and an expression of terror engraved on his face. His whole body was stuck to the ceiling by nails. He was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, however, all soaked in blood. I saw on his head, blood dripping from the nail.

The blood that fell on my face.

I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. I was paralyzed by fear. At that instant, the elevator doors closed. And I witnessed it, in the reflection of the mirror. The bloody message gradually taking form:

                             THE SECRET DIGs WHERE SCARS RUN DEEP


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