He picked up a gleaming surgical knife, size 24, and cut straight into the middle of my neck. The blade slid, cutting open the chest and abdomen.
"The victim's head was repeatedly struck with a blunt object, causing severe brain damage."
"The face was corroded by strong acid... with signs of plastic surgery..."
"There are multiple binding injuries and stab wounds all over the body... The victim endured a long period of inhumane torture before death."
"And the stomach contents... cement!"
The assistant next to him almost screamed.
"What a sicko! Killing someone is not enough. How much hatred and resentment must there be to torture the victim like this, pouring cement into their stomach..."
Stephen carefully picked out a torn and corroded piece of paper from my stomach contents.
"There are words on it, there may be clues, send it to the forensic science department for examination immediately!"
The assistant wondered, "What kind of person and under what circumstances, would swallow paper into their stomach?"
I looked at the paper ball that I had swallowed into my stomach, feeling very nervous.
Could the writing on it really be restored?
Is my secret going to be exposed to the public? I thought.