Brent sat slumped in the thinly padded desk chair. He raised his head to look at the detectives with red rimmed eyes.

"Can you call me Brent, please?"

"Brent, what did you see in the room? Why did you go there?"

Brent sighed and closed his eyes. "Nick called me. He was bored and wanted to play video games."

"When did he call you approximately?"

"Um...about a half hour before I went down, I think. I was writing, I write songs, I wanted to finish before I left. Our game sessions can last a long time." Brent smiled briefly at the memory.

"So you went down to his room...you were on this floor?"

Brent nodded. "I knocked on the door and there was no answer. I noticed the door was open just a bit and figured he went to the bathroom or something and left the door open for me."

"You were good friends?"

"Nick was my best friend. We were like brothers." Brent struggled not to cry. "He helped me so much."

The detectives let him regain his composure before questioning him again. "Can you tell us what you saw?"

"I walked in and he had the game already going, like he had been playing for awhile while he was waiting for me. I went to turn the sound down, cause it was pretty loud and then I saw the blood." Brent clenched his hands into fists. "There was so much blood, all over the wall, like someone threw a bucket full of red paint at it. I took a step and stepped on his arm."

Notes were scribbled while Brent rubbed his dark brown eyes and struggled to continue.

"He, Nick, he...he...he...was laying on the floor. Someone tied his arms behind him with the game controller cord. His throat, oh God, he was bleeding so bad. All that blood."

"Did you happen to recognize the knives?"

"The knives?" Brent looked blankly at them.

"The knives, they were in..."

"Oh yeah." Brent slumped in the chair again, trying to erase the memory of his friend laying there with all those knives sticking out of him. "He brought them the day before. There was a knife store at the mall. Nick was really into the martial arts thing, ninja stuff, you know? He loved this set and bought them for decoration in his new house." Brent closed his eyes and the image of Nick laying on the floor, the biggest knife in his chest, the smallest one in his gaping throat hit him hard. "Excuse me." Brent ran to the washroom and returned a few moments later, white-faced and gasping. "Is that what killed him?"

"The autopsy confirmed he was already dead when the knives entered his body. The slash to the neck killed him almost instantly. He felt no pain."

Brent stared at the man incredulously.

"Did you see anyone leave the room or in the hallway as you entered?"

"No one." Brent confirmed.

"Did you touch anything?"

"I pushed the volume button on the TV and tried to take one of the knives out. I think I knew it was pointless and gave up."

"Anything unusual in the room, anything out of place?"

"I didn't notice. Nick was such a slob." Brent grinned and then started to cry again. "He never put anything away, he was just a big slob."

"Thank you Brent. I know this has been very hard for you. You may return to your room."