Agatha's round, black eyes widened.<i>Murdered</i>? She looked around the room, her gaze unable to settle on anybody who she thought could have possibly killed another human being. She couldn't think of anybody who would have the lack of morals among them all to murder someone. Not even Enzo, the rat bastard, was that bad. The only one she could think of who might have done it was herself, and the circumstances it would take...<br/><br/>Unless she could have gone sleepwalking and acted like some kind of predatory spider-creature, somehow knowing where the mayor's residence was and crept in, killed him and then left before waking up, Agatha couldn't have.<br/><br/>Her expression began to show doubt and a bit of self-loathing. '<i><span style="color: purple">For all you know, that's</span></i><span style="color: purple">exactly</span><i><span style="color: purple">what happened,</span></i>' a scolding, hateful voice in her head rattled at her. '<span style="color: purple"><i>You still don't know all of what you are, of what you can do, you sick freak. I'd bet that if you could look back and see that you actually did it, you'd relish it.</i></span>'<br/><br/>Though she still felt so abhorrent and ashamed for a reason that could not be rationally explained, Agatha still turned to Zamie when she opened her mouth. She got a bit of an idea. "<span style="color: purple">It would be helpful to know what the crime scene was like,</span>" Agatha said quietly. "<span style="color: purple">If Zamie's assumptions are correct, then we could identify them easily enough. They'd leave some kind of... <i>signature</i>.</span>"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>