《The Havenport Files: Book One》


 Day 0: -Those Who Walk Hand in Hand With Their Darkness-

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    Somewhere in the small city of Havenport, the night shines brighter than usual, bringing out the worst in people, as well as illuminating a path to those who side with darkness, who lay down their soul for the power, who worship the roads less traveled, away from being human. And in the small city, somewhere in between roads, laid across a surgical, cold metal table, lies a pretty, young woman, someone whose life is fresh, bright, and beaming with possibilities for a future; her eyes are closed, her body unconscious, recovering.


    The woman, suddenly, rushed with an alert of her body, a last attempt at something she can''t understand, jolts awake with the feeling that something is definitively wrong; memories fuzzy around her head, blurry fragments of something that happened, something that she knows is important but that she can''t bring herself quite yet to remember; she can only feel a dizziness as her world spins in a familiar motion, that paired with the strong smell of alcohol coming from every breath she takes, tells one story, but even so, almost as a cruel reminder, there''s a pain, sharp, insistent at the back of her head, that paints another picture of what is going on.


    Beside the woman, there''s a figure, shadowed of all features by the lack of light inside the room; even so, they stand up and walk graciously around, like they don''t even need to see to move¡ªlike the lack of light is unimportant to them; a song, a lullaby, vibrates the person''s tired, croaky vocal cords, sounding strangely characteristic, both eerie and calming.


    Hearing the unfamiliar voice that produces it, the woman, with a newfound curiosity and the start of what can be described as understanding, tries to sit up, acting like waking up with a strange someone isn''t uncommon to her days.


    Her attempt, however, is unsuccessful, as she soon finds out that her hands and feet are tied to the table and herself, keeping her arms pressed against her side and her legs locked together uncomfortably, especially as the alcohol wears down and returns her sense of pain.


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    The figure stops, gazing at the woman, something she can only tell as the moonlight reflects on the person''s eyes, or so she thinks, as they glow lowly. A simple laugh, one that at any other time would be normal to hear, rings, bringing with it a question to the woman: What is it they are laughing at?


    "Dear Muse, please don''t dare to move; the process surely must be painful, but I need you to stay strong for me; you''re about to become something so pretty." The figure speaks softly¡ªcaringly¡ªbut even when the tone tries to pass this message, the true intention behind it is clear and sure as day, not good.


    Pain, hot, infernal, shoots up the woman''s system; the protection her body had crafted for her as she was dazed away crumbles like a wall of bricks being struck by a hammer, not once, not twice, but much, much more; time loses its grips on her; the brain throws away the concept of that, trying to focus solely on surviving; it fails, because even if it forgets that time exists, it still ticks by, cruelly. Consciousness slips away, the mind crumbles together with the defenses, and in mere minutes, what was a woman with eyes that glimmer with life turns into a lifeless doll.


    The figure, saddened by the scene, sighs in disappointment. "Oh what a shame, the potential you clasped in your tiny hands, so dearly, displaying proudly for the world to observe, to bask in; it has misguided me into a false belief; you seduced me with your sweet fragrance, my muse, and now you paid the unjust price of progress; but rest assured, on the deep parts of heaven, that your death was not in vain."


    The night progresses, and accompanying the body, carrying it to the middle of the city, the figure smiles; they lay the cold woman on the unforgiving cement, doing justice to their words and allowing her to, one last time, display her potential for the world to see.


    The city sleeps, quietly, unmoving; but soon, when the sun hits the skies, the light will shine on her, and the curtains will be open; the lucky ones will forget about it and continue with their normal lives, but the unlucky ones, oh, they will be cursed with the burden of trying to understand what has happened¡ªto look beyond the veil.


    <hr>

 Day 1: -Detective Arriving on the Scene-

    Day One


    Time: 6:30


    "A grey rain falls on Martinaise. The city soaks in it, cold and dripping. Waves hit the concrete breakers. The homeless huddle by the fires behind the fences. There, among the shacks, is your home. Stay. Have a drink. Forever."


    -Disco Elysium.


    <hr>


    Outside the crime scene lies a wriggling mass of people by the time I arrive; they line in the small alleyway that leads to the apartment complex parking lot where it all happened, packed so tightly that I can''t believe they are able to breathe properly, let alone fight for a good enough view of the end of the street.


    Revving the engine of my old Ford 150 to try to grab their attention turns futile as everyone seems to be solely concentrating on the incident; the problem is that if they don''t move, I won''t be able to park my car properly. Sighing loudly, I take one hand off the wheel and rub the bridge of my nose while frowning.


    "Great, just what I needed."


    Slowly, insistently, a headache threatens to accompany me throughout the day as it becomes more predominant, but unfortunately, there isn''t any time to deal with it now; after all, I don''t want to be late for my first case as Havenport''s newly appointed detective.


    With a flick of my wrist, I turn the key, and the car engine dies down in one pained, crunching sound, allowing me the peaceful silence that quickly revolts inside the car and the smell of pastries that, at this point, have become one with the seats.


    To prepare myself to brave the commotion, I stretch my hands up high, making sure to avoid hitting the ceiling, as usual; the ''pop'' sound that follows becomes a reminder to stop sleeping on the DP''s couch... and in the backseat.


    Out of habit, I adjust the rearview mirror to check how much of a mess I look like and what I can fix to be more presentable. I brush my hand through my shoulder-length curly brown hair and immediately notice two dark circles hanging beneath my eyes¡ªsomething that comes not as a surprise as the whole ''becoming a detective'' stole most of my sleep this week, and it isn''t even Thursday yet; three days are not enough to get used to a big of a change as this one.


    My desire to procrastinate ends as quickly as it comes when I remind myself of the situation, so with no time to lose, I push the car''s door open and force myself out.


    The wintry air bites at my skin as soon as I step out of the warm comfort of my car, prompting me to hug my coat as close as I can to my body. I shiver at the slight relief it provides from the sharpness of the cold. Upon moving my eyes to the people, it feels like most of the city gathered around at the scene, which is more likely true than not, considering the city is composed of less than a thousand people, and most of them clearly have nothing better to do at six in the morning.


    It is a pain to fight against the people to move forward, with the hardest part being getting in between them, but once done, I''m able to start getting through the thin path between bodies; some bumps and pushes, and I finally manage to do so, stealing myself of the little energy I had.


    In front of me, a blue-and-white-stripped barrier stands in the way, the exact point these people don''t dare to get past; too, the nervous officer standing behind it makes sure no overly courageous reporter even tries to. Poor boy, my first time guarding a crime scene was the same, and that was just three years ago. Calming people''s nerves is hard, but tending to their worries is even worse, especially when they produce about a million questions for you to answer.


    As I duck under the tape to get by, the officer''s voice stops me. "Miss, I''ll need to see your credentials first." He sharpens his expression, which in turn makes the cracks on his lips more perceptible.


    Looking at his face closely, his request makes more sense to me. "You''re the new officer, aren''t you? Melissa''s new partner."


    Surprised, the boy widens his eyes only but a second as his gaze reaches my belt, where my new badge rests, easily on display to avoid this same scenario. "Oh, you''re the new detective!" He exclaims, placing one hand on his face as he shakes his head. "I''m sorry, detective; I''m still getting familiar with everyone''s face; and yes, I''m Officer Melissa''s new partner." Guiding his hand away from his face, he lifts the tape enough to allow me to get past, something I do, making sure to place a thankful smile on my face.


    "Don''t worry about that; just relax a bit." I shake off his worry and move my eyes to the people behind the tape, who are already moving to question me about the situation that I am yet to learn. To avoid it, I start to ignore their gazes and look back at the officer, seeing his name tag carefully placed on his uniform. "Officer Lee, good luck with them; just some advice: ignore their questions; they will stop asking soon enough."


    "Roger; good luck to you too, detective." The officer responds with a sweet smile, nodding his head a last time to me before gazing once more upon the mass of spectators, but this time, instead of trying to calm people, he focuses on calming himself.


    ''Detective'', it is still strange to hear someone call me that. I thought after Melissa''s insistent tease about my promotion these last days, things should have settled in my brain, but this feels more real now, somehow. A colleague addressing me this way feels odd yet strangely pleasant. Of course, the fact the title used to belong to old Detective Reele for so long makes me question if it fits quite yet; all the training I had was a rushed speech of the mayor about my ''many merits'' and ''willingness'', and that was the first time I''ve ever seen the guy; I''m sure it was hard for him to step down his high horse to waste his time on me.


    I have nothing to complain about more than that. Reele placed his faith in me to follow in his footsteps; he made sure to let me know that when the squad got all out to drink; so I''ll make sure that his words were not wasted on me.


    I will solve this case.


    "Finally, you sure took your time to get here; I was waiting for ages." My unfocused eyes center once more as they shoot to the side, landing at the owner of the familiar voice as it reaches my ears, a smile already taking over my tired expression as I see it''s her: my old partner, Officer Melissa Rivers, also known as my dear sister; she approaches with a big grin on her face as her curly hair dangles at the movement. "Let me guess, you woke up from your car''s backseat and came straight here, didn''t you?"


    "Good investigative work, Sherlock." I point out her words with sarcasm dripping off my voice in a mockingly friendly way. "I''m sure you would be better at my position," I say, grinning back at her as I move closer as well.


    "Nah, I''m good; I''ll leave you to the extra paperwork." Her reply comes with a tight hug afterward; her arms wrap around my shoulders affectionately as she pulls me close. In an automatic action, I embrace her back with the same level of happiness. "But seriously, your hair is looking like a bird''s nest."


    "I know that, but I didn''t have time to go back to our house from the station when I got the clearly unhappy call from Sergeant Ed to come here; he asked me to hurry and said someone had been murdered." Explaining the situation to Melissa, we both break the hug and turn our curious eyes to the end of the street, where a bunch of uniformed people walk around, all familiar to me at this point. "I didn''t expect the big city to get involved; does it have something to do with the victim?"


    "I don''t know, but Doctor Foster should know; he''s already there with the corpse." She points out the middle space between the sea of uniformed ones, easing my job to spot the grizzled hair belonging to the only specialist doctor in this city. It comes as no surprise to see that the sergeant would request his help, as per usual.


    "Any of the silver spoons bothered to show up?"


    My question is met with a frown from her, making her hazel eyes turn slightly darker; her nose wrinkles, leaving her freckles more pronounced with a clear expression of disgust. "You know the answer to that. I''m sure they are very busy with yoga sessions or whatever to care for us normal folks. But let''s forget about them for now. How''s your head? Excited for your very first day as a detective?"


    Now that is more likely; Melissa isn''t one to be serious very often, so when she acts like that, it manages to leave anyone uncomfortable.


    "It will depend," I answer truthfully, sighing and placing my fingers at the bridge of my nose. "If the murder is too gruesome or if we can''t find the killer today still, things will be very hard to deal with, especially considering that the mayor surely will be on my neck from this point on."


    "Well..." Melissa makes the face she always makes when she has bad news, so to prepare myself, I shove my hands in my pockets and wait. "Then I guess today will be terrible for you, I''m afraid. Sorry."


    "You can''t be serious; things are that bad?"


    "You see, the face Doctor Foster was making was not a very happy one." She dares glance down at the scene again, where the same uniformed technicians still walk around with their cameras and expensive equipment at hand, placing the yellow tag at various spots in the parking lot. Occasionally, the flashes of their cameras threaten to blind me if I try to look more in their direction.


    "Hey, what the hell is going on here?" A grumpy old man in a gray suit walks closer to us, interrupting our talk; the closer he gets, the more I notice how he''s strangely small, standing proudly at about one meter and fifty. The single moment I see his face, it reminds me of the gnomes from Melissa''s tabletop RPG game. "I need to know. No, I demand to know."


    "Sir, I''m sorry, but we can''t give any details at this-" My phrase is interrupted by Melissa''s hand settling on my shoulder to grab my attention, bringing me out of my mechanical action.


    "You forgot? You''re no officer anymore; leave this to me and go be awesome there."


    Giving me no time to reply, she pushes me towards the crime scene and pats my back, muttering an ''off you go'' before returning to the very angry old man. Her tall, statuesque figure is occulted by the stiff, unshapely, dark blue standard uniform that she pairs with her favorite jacket, even if against Ed''s orders; her features contrast against the heavy belt and boots she wears.


    I don''t get to look back much, as a few steps forward and I''m already in the technician''s territory; in all directions they move, some fast, others slow, but all of them share the same unfocus from their surroundings.


    I''m forced into a stumble to analyze my next move, and once done, I try my very best to be careful about where I''m stepping, but I fail as my boots almost land on a soda can resting on the ground. What saves me from doing so is the angry callout from one of the species around me.


    "Hey, can''t you fucking see?" A woman screams at me, kneeling quickly to the ground and using her gloved hands to grasp the object carefully, quickly sealing it in an evidence bag.


    "Sorry." is all I mutter before continuing on, avoiding the woman''s stare as she does her best to burn a hole through my back.


    At least, after dancing my way through the technicians placing the tags, I reach Doctor Foster¡ªholding the record of only one almost screw-up¡ªhe kneels on the ground near the victim''s body, professionally studying them as I move next to the brick wall to do the same.


    He shakes his head and looks at me, changing his expression from pity to a kind smile. "I wouldn''t wish this to be anyone''s first case, Olivia; I''m sorry."


    "No, it''s..." With a heavy sigh, I adjust my face to a more serious expression and crouch down beside him. I notice that the lack of sun due to the cold clouds makes his white coat look almost gray, and so does his hair, which every year is more white; at this rate, he can be Santa for this year''s Christmas. "It''s fine, really; just let''s focus on the case; the sergeant wants me to report in before nine." An uncomfortable silence is accentuated between us, so I take it as my job to start the questions. "Do you know who the victim is, doc? Or if they are from around here?"


    "No, I was waiting for you; the city boys wouldn''t let me get close until they got all the pictures they needed." He says, glaring with a fake smile at one of the technicians that passes us by, almost able to hear our talk. "I''m sure no one has taught those idiots to respect their elders."


    His words make sense; at this end of the world, in the middle of nowhere, it is very rare for something like this to happen. When a thing as complicated as murder happens, they send their ''aid'' from the big city. I''m sure the mayor''s friend being a well-known politician from their side helps to get them here so fast. It''s the first time in my lifetime that this has happened, and the city boys and small town''s people are not mixing that well by the way they are exchanging angry looks from time to time.


    Havenport''s folks are simple people and more of the quiet and calm kind, which means an event like this is something they are not used to, and that scares them very much, so I lean more towards our side, even if the city''s equipment is of great help.


    Foster gestures for me to help him roll the victim''s body, a request that I promptly reply to; I recoil at the dull thud that echoes as it topples over completely, granting us the view of the victim''s face. I''m not able to recognize the woman lying on the asphalt before me¡ªsomething that already tells me a lot¡ªher blonde hair and freckles, her pale skin is marred with bruises of all types, from cuts to what I assume is from a punch¡ªshe dresses pretty well, meticulous even, having on her arsenal a pretty dress, nice shoes, and a cool leather jacket¡ªall the traits of someone planning to get lucky.


    Looking over at the doctor, it seems he doesn''t know her either by the way his frown rapidly turns into curiosity.


    "I see to everyone''s health in this city and know all the faces; this one I can confidently say to you is not a resident."


    "That''s no good," I admit, clicking my tongue and guiding my fingertip to my teeth to chew them before remembering I just touched a dead woman. "The mayor will not be happy once he hears this."


    "When does that man ever get happy about anything?" The doctor shoots me the question with a click of his tongue, mimicking me.


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    "True." My eyes return to the woman''s body, where I continue my visual search for whatever clues I can get. Placing my hand atop hers, I lift them up and check her nails, seeing dirt tucked beneath them painfully, almost to the point of breaking them¡ªsigns of struggle, maybe indicating she tried to run away from her murder.


    Her purse was hidden beneath her body, so now that it has come into view, I am quick to snatch it up to check the contents: lipstick, cigarettes, a lighter, but no wallet or phone. If she was out to drink, she had to have money and a phone to call an Uber, so the only answer could be that the killer took it.


    Perhaps I''m getting ahead of myself, so to slow down, I give one more look at the surroundings, seeing that the crime scene is either entirely packed by the technicians or being their focus; I can''t work like this.


    "I guess I''ll have to wait for the file to get to my table."


    "You want me to pack the body up and send it to Astero''s laboratory at the station?"


    "Her." I correct him, earning a confused look on his brows. "Pack her up, right?"


    "Yes, her." The doctor nods his head, shooting me an apologetic smile. "It is easy to get so used to this that we lose sensitivity. It''s good to see you still have yours, kid. I''ll send her up as soon as the city boys are done here, so go have breakfast; I know for a fact Melissa is planning to sneak out to get herself some pretty soon."


    "Thanks for the heads up, doc; good luck to you."


    While making my way to my car, the doctor''s words make themselves true as I spot Melissa patiently waiting at the side of my car, leaning her body against the passenger door. That can only mean one thing: she plans to ask me to drive her to the Blue Wave Diner and have me pay for her food, as usual at this point.


    Unfortunately, that will have to wait a moment, as from the edge of my vision I catch sight of a certain redhead leaning against the dirty alley''s wall, ready to ambush me from its shadow. With a heavy sigh finding its way out of my throat involuntarily, I stop and let myself be approached by her.


    "Detective Rivers," The journalist, Alexandrina, calls out calmly with her apathetic voice, striding ever so close with her camera hanging from her neck at ready, held by a strap with the initials of her website and podcast, HPTN: Heavenport Truth and News. "It is good to catch you here; would you mind answering some questions before you leave? The people would like to know if they are safe; you can understand, right?"


    "You want to play this game with me after you pulled the rug under me?" I cross my arms tightly around my chest and frown, watching as she tilts her head in confusion. She really forgot, huh? It sure left a mark on me, but to her, it was just another day of a good job done. "The incident with Parker''s family, the one you covered so attentively that your wrong information almost got me fired, remember now?"


    Alexandrina''s eyes squint as she remembers, soon shaking her head and adjusting herself to look confident, shielding herself from my harsh words. "I already apologized for that; besides, about the leak who got me the information, I long gave Reele the name of the bastard, and he took care of the problem; if you wished me to have kept my mouth shut and watched you be devoured by the wolves, you could have asked."


    She had given Reele the name of the leak? He never commented to me about it; maybe he knew I would be mad anyway and decided that it was best to let the story be forgotten. You know what? I''ll bite the bait for now; I have nothing to lose anyway.


    "I''ll believe you for now; regardless, I can''t give you any information if I don''t have any; we just discovered the body an hour ago."


    "Well, that is unfortunate; let us do this then," She grasps from her brown overcoat her cellphone, bringing it into view and wriggling it, making me notice the cat drawings on the cover. "Add my number, or give me yours; this way I can help you out from time to time. I''m sure you''ll appreciate hearing people''s voices when they see something strange on the street."


    "What are you talking about? Now you''re playing me; you think the denunciation hotline exists for what reason?"


    "Oh Detective," She shakes her head as if mocking my words as innocent. "People are not so comfortable sharing information that they are not so sure about; most that see a shadow in the street prefer to think their eyes are tricking them, but there are good eyes around the city, and they all come to me when they see something strange. That is how I got to the crime scene alongside your team. Believe me for once, and I guarantee you will be satisfied with my work."


    "Ugh!" A groan escapes my lips; that is one thing I hate about her¡ªshe knows what to say to convince you. ''Learn to sell time to a clock'' as some say, ''that is the most important skill there is; persuasion is the name of the game.''


    Taking my phone from my pocket, I prepare myself to exchange numbers. "Fine, do as you please; just don''t expect me to reply."


    Swiftly, the journalist adds my contact and lets out a satisfied sound; seemingly having got what she wanted, she starts to stride away without looking back. "I look forward to working with you, detective."


    Upon reaching my car, I grab my key and unlock the doors; promptly, Melissa takes the passenger seat and I take the driver''s.


    The moment I slam the door shut, feeling the pleasant warmth trapped inside start to warm my body, Mel crosses her arms and yawns loudly, allowing her lazy eyes to linger on the fading figure of the journalist as she disappears among the people that, starting to lose their interest in the scene, proceed to disperse out the area to open their shops, get some food, or even get back to bed for a five-minute nap.


    The loss of people''s interest was not for nothing, as the moment the view of the street is cleared, I''m able to notice the technicians carrying their equipment to their vehicles and driving away without ceremony; there is an empty spot where the body was lying before, meaning Doctor Foster should be already on his way to hand her to Astero, so I should expect a message from him in an hour or so when he finishes his analysis.


    With a weak flick of my wrist, the key on the ignition is turned, and the car tries to come to life, only needing about two attempts to make it work this time; at one point I''ll need to get it to a mechanic, but this day won''t be today.


    "Now that was strange; it is not every day that Alex shows her face around a crime scene. Did something happen?" Melissa''s question makes me place my hands atop the wheel with a tired sigh: ''Maybe this is a good time to question her about Alexandrina''s words'', I think to myself.


    "Nothing. She just wanted me to answer some of her questions about the case, and when I told her I couldn''t answer what I didn''t know, she told me something very interesting, and we exchanged numbers."


    "Oh, I see how it is¡ªthe whole enemies-to-lovers thing, huh?" Mel''s cheeky comments pull a frown out of me, especially as I take notice of how she sees Alexandrina; normally, Melissa would be mad alongside me and call her some slurs from time to time, but she acts differently than that, casual even. "I''m kidding, relax. You can''t blame me for being happy after seeing you not give her the cold shoulder this time; that''s a good thing, by the way."


    "That''s not it." I shake my head and turn completely to face Melissa so I can analyze her face in case she tries to lie herself out of the situation. "It is just that Alexandrina told me that it was her who snitched to Reele about the one who gave the bad info about the Parker''s incident fiasco; you wouldn''t know anything about any of that, would you, sis?"


    "Uhm, well, you see..." A shaky smile, a dry laugh¡ªhow did I not see this coming? Of course, she would know something about it. At the click of my tongue, she continues talking to defuse the situation. "Look, Reele made me promise to keep my mouth shut; he said that if you got over that yourself, it would make you a better cop. I swear to you that I did what I thought was best for you."


    "I''m not mad; it is just that..." Stopping myself, I breathe in deeply, concentrating on clearing my lungs and head before proceeding. My expression softens, my eyes not as squinted as before, and my words more understanding. "Just don''t lie to me anymore, okay? Because now that I know this, I feel bad looking back at how I treated her these last three years. In any case, let us talk food; Blue Wave?"


    With a relieved smile on her face, Mel nods her head and relaxes her shoulders. "Yeah, where else can we get that delicious strawberry pie?" At her own words, she starts to smile like a fool at the prospect of the sweet treat. "Look, I''ll even pay this time, okay?"


    Her offer is strange, but looking at her face, I can see she''s trying to make me feel better. "There''s no need; I need to get coffee for Astero to make sure he will be at full capacity, so next time you pay."


    Stepping on the pedal, I make sure that the path back is clear before driving us to the main road. As I do so, Mel places her hand on my shoulder and talks in a low tone.


    "I''m sorry for lying."


    "There''s no need for that; I can''t be mad at you when you just wanted to help. Besides, you even offered to pay for the breakfast; that is the maximum proof you''re sorry." I add a grin to my comment, managing to get a pout out of her. Freeing one of my hands from the wheel, I turn on the radio so she can pick up some music for us.


    As she does so, she can''t help but add a comment of her own. "I pay for things too."


    "You mean your things, right? Because now that you''re talking, I''m remembering a certain plushie you brought me a while back that, not even a week later, disappeared magically into your room."


    "Shut up, you dork." She gives my shoulder an affectionate punch and finally picks up a station; the music that starts to play eases the road ahead. The soft guitar, the lyrics that fade into the background as I focus on the street ahead¡ªit all feels too familiar at this point, so much so that I instinctively tap my fingers against the wheel rhythmically.


    Because everyone was at the crime scene, the roads are pretty much empty, so the drive is quite uneventful. As we approach the harbor to take the road where lies the old red brick factory remnants that have built basically every building in this city, my eyes focus on the tracks that serve as paths for trains to make their way through our city, carrying supplies from the harbor to both the cities that exist atop and below ours on the map.


    It is quite rare to see it active these days, so when I hear the loud, familiar click-clack of the wheels on the rails, I slow down to watch it pass by. The moment is nice, quite calming even regarding our situation; unfortunately, it lasts not long, as in its hurry, the old train quickly disappears from view behind the forest path that separates the street from it.


    It doesn''t take long before we reach the Blue Wave, the small family restaurant known for its old-fashioned service, home cooking, and the best breakfast option in town. Probably one of the oldest establishments around here, it existed even before the current mayor took his place about forty years ago.


    The diner is, not surprisingly, very popular, particularly with the students that usually come here after their classes. Some of the officers, passing truck drivers, and fishermen also frequent the restaurant because of the easy access the bus stop at its side offers, the gas station nearby, and the generous parking lot space. The same parking lot where I quickly park my car, using the emptiness of it for now to my advantage, gives me the best parking spot.


    Climbing out of my car and locking the doors, Melissa loses no time in walking to the front door and waving me to hurry up. With a scoff followed by a smile, I place the keys in my jeans and do as told, reaching her side and entering the restaurant together.


    The moment we step in, Mel rushes to the booth at the end of the row, and I move my gaze to the empty ones, quickly noticing that not all are empty. A group of three women sit at the other end; one of them digs down a piece of pie like a desperate kid, the other silently sips her coffee as she stares at the outside, and the last one gazes back at me, so strongly in fact that I look away instinctively.


    "What are you doing? Come one, sit down so I can order already; momma''s hungry for some pie hehe." Melissa laughs lowly to herself as she stares at the menu so intently that it''s easy to see she has forgotten my existence for the moment.


    Placing myself in front of her, my hands come to rest on the menu as I flip it, only looking to order something to drink for now as my appetite was killed the moment I saw the body. Between choosing a cup of coffee, soda, or juice, I end up thinking about the day I''ll have ahead and settling my mind.


    Timely, Bella, the owner of the establishment, walks out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on the kitchen cloth hanging from her apron and spotting us in our booth.


    She opens a bright smile and gestures for me to wait a moment as she gets the other table another cup of coffee; when that is done, she loses no time in dancing in our direction, swaying in her yellow and red waitress dress, showing off her bright colors to the world, making this gray morning a little more colorful.


    "Well, oh well~" Bella talks in her singing voice, hugging the white silver plate she carries all the time closer to her chest. "I was asking myself when you two were going to show up, Officer and Detective Rivers."


    "Hey, Bella!" Melissa finally takes her eyes off the menu and returns to the world. Her eyes travel up and down the waitress as if this is the first time they see each other. Even if we have known Bella for many years now, after all, we studied together. "You''re looking prettier today."


    If Mel had a dog tail, it would definitely be wagging right now; for my entertainment, I''m able to watch as she attempts to flirt like usual. Bella, Lee, who is going to be the next? The firefighters across the station? Most probably.


    "You''re saying I don''t look pretty every day?" Bella answers quickly, with a frown on her brows that I can tell is fake at first glance, but is still well done enough to leave Melissa preoccupied. Unfortunately, the waitress doesn''t manage to hold her frown for too long before breaking into a sweet laugh. "I''m kidding, honey; thank you for the compliment."


    As my sister''s expression turns to relief, I use the moment to ask a question. "You were expecting us; why?"


    "Pappi called me on his way here. He saw people gathered near the apartments, like something bad had happened, and he spotted your car parked near them, so I just connected the dots. Given the fact that every time something happens, you two come here, I was already waiting."


    "I see. Is Mister Hernandez in the kitchen today?"


    "No, he actually got out to buy more ingredients earlier, but with the commotion, I''m sure he will be coming back late, so I''m handling the kitchen for now."


    Nodding my head, Melissa takes her chance and taps the menu on the table to grab Bella''s attention. "Can I get a coffee with two sugar cubes and a piece of strawberry pie?"


    "The coffee is no problem, but I''ll not be able to get you the pie; the ladies over there ordered the last piece we had."


    "No way..." Mel hangs her head low and sighs, but not for long.


    "Why don''t we do this? I''ll ask papi to make a delivery for you at the station when I get the ingredients."


    "You can do that?"


    Bella nods her head, already managing to help resurface a smile from the sweet-toothed officer.


    Seeing that we will only take our drinks, I decide to hurry our return to the station. "Then, please, three coffees to go. Mel''s with two sugar cubes, one with milk, and the last plain. include the pie as well." I hand her my credit card.


    "Sure thing, honey, it will be ready in five." Before leaving, though, she places her hand on my shoulder and smiles. "Olivia, one thing: good luck. If you need more coffee or something sweet, I''ll give you a discount, so keep me posted on how you''re doing."


    "Okay, I''ll do my best."


    Now, Bella truly leaves our booth and walks back to the kitchen. Strangely, when I turn my eyes to Mel, she''s pouting. "''Something sweet'', huh?"


    Ignoring her comment, I focus my attention on the table when I feel my phone vibrate, warning me of a call, and once I take it out lazily, I can see the name ''Astero Lab Freak'' stare back at me.


    "Astero is calling," I tell Mel as I rise to my feet hurriedly. "Maybe he has the body already; I''ll take the call outside; when the drinks are done, meet me in the car."


    "All righty, now go take the call already."


    In my mindless way to rush outside, I end up almost bumping into a woman as she opens the restaurant door. We awkwardly stare at each other''s faces as the moment of surprise dies down.


    Deep blue eyes and long, flowing blonde hair adorn her delicate face, all traits that tell me she isn''t from around; my eyes travel to her clothing, seeing an identification card that I can''t quite read on her business outfit before reminding myself of the annoying vibration of my phone; even so, I''m almost sure I caught the word ''federal'' written in it.


    "That was close; sorry, miss." I give way for the woman to pass by me and notice that her gaze too lingered on me, especially as it reached the badge in my belt. Raising a brow, the woman is quick to hide her reaction with a smile.


    "The fault was mine; please go on first or you''ll miss your call." She gestures for me to go on, and not wanting to miss my call, as she reminds me, I do so with only a nod of my head.


    Now outside, I take the call and put the phone to my ear; in a moment, Astero''s voice starts to sound from it.


    "Hello, Olivia? Are you there?" Astero asks in a worried voice. I can hear the sound of his tools hitting his table as he rushes to take the phone out of speaker mode. "Why did you take so long to answer the phone?"


    "Yeah, I''m here; sorry that I kept you waiting. Melissa and I are on the Blue Wave getting your coffee right now; did Doctor Foster pass by the station?"


    "Yes, he did; actually, he''s leaving at this exact moment. He stopped around to help me take the samples of the vic''s blood and skin to send to the hospital for a deeper analysis, which should accelerate the process a bit."


    "That''s good. But, did something happen? I know you would not call me just to say that."


    "You''re right; indeed, something happened; good news for you. While taking in the samples, I noticed a strange vibration coming from the body and attempted to investigate the source. In the end, I found out that the victim''s phone was located in a compartment in her left boot. A small string that seems to have been sewn by someone, likely the victim, was made to hold the electronic safe. For now, I have separated the item for your arrival; my advice is that you come check it as soon as possible."


    "I''ll be there in ten; we are just waiting for the coffee to be ready."


    "You got mine, correct? Remember that I like mine with milk."


    "Of course I got yours; just relax that it is as you like it; I wouldn''t be able to forget anyway by how many times you remind me of that."


    "Better to be safe than sorry. Anyway, I''ll be waiting in the lab; see you soon."


    He hangs off the phone, leaving me to think for the time being, ''We have the victim''s phone, so that will be of help pretty sure; now the hard part will truly come. Better to get my pillows to my new office; I''ll sure make good use of Reele''s sofa.''


    As I finish my thoughts, Melissa leaves the restaurant, carrying the bag with our order, hurrying me to open the car door before she spills everything; doing so, we enter it in sync and set off to the station.


    <hr>

 Day 1: -茅clats de Verre-

    Day One


    <hr>


    Finally, we reach the front parking lot of the station after dealing with the sudden appearance of more cars in the street now that people are back in business. The building, an old, brick-walled, two-story-tall mansion that belonged to the oldest mayor, has been long changed since he left no kids behind. Now, it is known as Havenport''s Police Department.


    Leaving the car, both me and Melissa walk to the old wooden front door, with me pushing it open, earning a loud creaking sound from it in the process as Mel''s hand stays busy balancing the cups.


    Anja, the receptionist, or more well known as the mayor''s daughter, types on her phone with a bored face, only glancing at us before losing interest and returning her gaze to the screen; until this moment, I still don''t know what she''s doing here; I just know that the mayor forced the sergeant to accept her for the job¡ªeven if she has no experience whatsoever¡ªas the other places she tried to work on fired her shortly after her first day, something about ''lack of commitment'' and because she ''stares at that damn screen all day, ignoring the clients and sometimes being super rude''.


    "Morning Anja." I greet her as we pass her side, earning only a nod from her in response before we move to the next area: the large office room where everyone''s cubicles stand, even the one that belonged to me not long ago, with the only difference now being that it has Lee''s name tag atop it.


    Melissa stops at her table and places her coffee down before turning to me, already pushing me the two cups so I carry them now; the moment I take hold of them, I notice how hot they are, and too, how red her palms burn because of it.


    "Mel! Your hand," Pointing out the redness on her palm, I notice the oblivious look on her face. "Why didn''t you ask me to help you? You could have warned me that they were too hot."


    "Nah, that''s fine. It hurts a little, but it will pass." Shrugging the pain away, she proceeds to sit down on her office chair, stretch her back, and stop her yawning midway with a long gulp of her coffee. "I''ll have to wait for Lee to be back before having to go patrol, so I''ll probably be out in an hour."


    "Keep your phone alive," I remind her, frowning as she grins at my words. "I''m serious; I''ll call you if you don''t message me."


    "Alright, I''ll be sure to message you; now go on. Good work for you." I feel her give me a little push, so I carry on.


    "You too," I say, not sure if she hears it or not, but not having time to check, I direct myself to the pathway that leads to the lab.


    The beginning of the staircase that leads down to what once was a basement is where I stop, having to manage both cups in one hand as I grab my ID card and press it on the electronic reader. Once it beeps to warn me that it''s open, I''m quick to shove it back in my pocket and get down the stairs.


    The two heavy, sliding glass doors of the lab open as I near them, expelling some of the freezing air inside the place in my direction, so much so that I feel a sneeze almost leave me at the sudden temperature change.


    Stepping inside, the white tiles on the walls, ground, and ceiling reflect the bright white lamps atop me directly into my eyes, leaving me to blink for a moment to adjust myself to it. At the end of the room, lying across a metal table, I see that the body was carefully placed there and covered up.


    Astero doesn''t seem to notice my arrival as he puts on his glasses and starts to type in his computer very quickly, showing his mastery at it. As I approach, he takes a quick glance at his wristwatch and clicks his tongue.


    "Where is she? She should be here already." He states to himself before returning his attention fully to the computer.


    "Yeah, where could she be, right?" My voice breaks the silence, pulling a good reaction out of the guy as he jumps in his chair. Seeing how much I scared him, I already start to apologize. "Oops. Sorry, I didn''t mean to scare you so much."


    "Jesus, you could have given me a warning or anything." He breathes in deeply to calm himself, adjusting his lab coat over the stylish shirt he uses with the stamp of an electronic circuit. He passes his hand through his brown mullet haircut as he recomposes himself. "It is good you got here; I really need some caffeine about now to get me going."


    As he says that, I take his cup, making sure that it is the right one first, and hand it to his waiting hands. The moment he gets a hold of it, he breathes in the earthy scent of the liquid and then starts to drink. His overly need for coffee tells me one thing: the probability that the station''s coffee machine broke again is high; I need to remember to talk to the sergeant about it tomorrow.


    "So, where''s the phone you mentioned?" I ask, to which he points to the end of his table, where an evidence bag lies. Inside, I notice a small and very old-looking flip phone. I decide to leave him to focus on getting his energy back as I take the phone out of the bag and into my hand.


    Because it is so old, it will probably be hard to find anything useful, but it also means that it should not have a password, and that can save a lot of time we would lose trying to crack it.


    Flipping it open, the first thing that appears is a message displaying that thirteen calls were missed, from someone named ''Father (Andrey Kolesov)''.


    "Astero, run the name Andrey Kolesov for me, please. Thank you."


    "On it." He replies and puts the empty cup down, starting his search on the computer.


    All the apps the phone has are very simple: contacts, notes, gallery, and camera. My first stop is the contacts, seeing only three registered, with the names accompanied by descriptions, telling me that they all seem to be family members, with the mother''s name, father''s, and brother''s. I pass the information to Astero, as it sure will make the search quicker.


    Next, I open the gallery, and seeing it empty, I frown; I even try checking if there isn''t a hidden folder but find nothing in return, so with the last one remaining being the notes, I go for it.


    To my luck, the moment I open it, a text stares back at me, with the title being ''Personal Information''. In the text, I find the name ''Melinda Kolesov'' as the first thing written, followed by a home address and all the same numbers in her contact list.


    "She''s very intelligent to leave her information on the hidden-phone; what''s the chance this murder was premeditated?" I ask myself, but Astero ends up answering the same thing I''m thinking.


    "High, probably; that or she''s someone important enough to be so cautious. Well, thanks to it, I found out everything I could about her on the internet." He gestures me closer to his computer and shows me a web page with the name of an enterprise, ''Galileo Biotech Lab and Research''. "The victim''s father is a funder of some projects, including projects his daughter works on. The web page doesn''t inform me what the projects are, but I can call them to get some information if you want."


    "Do that; I''m still not sure it has something to do with the murder, but it is good to investigate; in the meantime, I''ll write my report, so knock on my office if you get anything new."


    "Leave it to me."


    I put the phone down on his table and move to the stairs, going directly to my office so I can work on my report as soon as possible. On my way through the office, I''m met with Mel''s empty chair, meaning that she''s already out on her patrol, so just to be sure, I leave a note on her table to tell her I might sleep in the office today instead of back home; even if I''m sure this time she might try dragging my sleeping body to our house.


    Once I glue the note on the top of her computer''s monitor, I walk and enter my new office, ready to face some good hours of writing down everything we have discovered so far in a file, print it, and leave it at the sergeant''s table.


    Time: 19:01


    Another dreamless nap; from the moment I finished writing the report, my body automatically found the shortest path to the sofa at the edge of the office, and it proceeded to weaken my legs, so I would have no other option but to lay down for some time.


    But as everything good has to end, my nap is interrupted by the impertinent vibrations of my phone against the solid floor¡ªa sound that doesn''t show signs of stopping anytime soon¡ªto leave me to take more five, so with a loud, irritated grunt, I force myself to sit up in the piece of soft furniture, still warmed by my body, and take the call before the person tries to reach me once more.


    Putting the phone in my ear without even checking who''s the caller, I, with a sleepy voice, start to talk. "Hello? Who is it?"


    "Detective, you don''t sound very awake," The voice, somewhat familiar, states coldly; it takes me some good seconds to recognize who is on the other side of the line. "Would it be best if I called you another time?


    "No, no, it''s fine; I needed to get up sooner or later anyway." Allowing a yawn to escape me, I shiver to full awakeness, readying myself for the news. "So, why are you calling me, Alexandrina? You got anything for me?"


    "That''s right, I do have something that might be useful for you; just five minutes ago, an anonymous citizen called to inform me of a strange car parked on the old mill."


    "The old mill?" Strange, the place these days is another of the favorite abandoned buildings of the city that are generally used for parties, and sometimes the more enthusiastic teens and their bands hold a show in them; more than once we were called there because of a fight that broke out or someone managed to fall drunk on the rails near it and we had to remove them. "You sure it isn''t a teenager that is checking it? It wouldn''t be the first instance that we caught a group entering the place at night to clear for a party."


    "I''m pretty sure that isn''t the case," Alexandrina shuffles some paper, or at least that''s what the sound I hear seems to be, before returning to where she stopped. "My source is sure that the person seems to be a lone adult, tall, and driving a gray sedan, though my source is not so sure of the car''s model as they just got out in a hurry to call me and it was pretty dark already."


    "Okay... now that is worth investigating; one question though. What was your source doing at night, near the old mill? I''m sure there aren''t many fun activities to be done around there."


    "You see, that is what I talked about with you earlier; these questions only serve to scare people. I''m not sure, and I didn''t ask as they didn''t seem to want to talk about it more than what I informed you about."


    "These questions are important; confirming the source''s liability is a good way to check the trustworthiness of their character; but you''re right, even if it might not be the best source, it is better than nothing considering my situation."


    "Fine words, Detective; now if you''re going to really investigate it, be expecting a message from me, because if I get any more information, I''ll be sure to let you know."


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Before I can say bye, she hangs up. Sighing tiredly, I rub my eyes and gaze around the dimly lit office now that the only light that illuminates the room is the table lamp that I forgot on; even so, the pile of papers on the ground, boxes of files to be sorted near the door, the things out of order¡ªall are going to have to wait to be cleaned tomorrow now that I have something to do.


    Up on my feet, I''m fast to put on my boots and leave my office; as expected, the station is pretty much empty by now, rid of all the officers, less the receptionist, who should be preparing to go home soon, and the Sergeant that has his door locked to not be disturbed.


    Generally, the only ones who stay working until later in the night shift are Astero, even if it depends on how his examinations go, as when he finds some trouble, he prefers to take his time and solve it instead of waiting until the next day, and me, as the extra bucks help a ton at the end of the month.


    At this point, Melissa should be returning from her patrol in an hour to change from her uniform to her clothes and go home; with luck, I might catch her on the way back before she goes, saving her the Uber drive home.


    Hugging my overcoat close to my body, I prepare myself for the cold night before pushing the exit door open and stepping outside. Locking my eyes on my car, I see it parked exactly where I left it. I lose no time to reach it and get inside, ready for the travel ahead.


    After driving on the street for some time, I take the dirt path to enter the city''s forest, driving further into the night until finally seeing the train tracks. I stop the car before reaching them, choosing to park it on this side of the rails, as going over it to stop the car on the mill would be a bad idea, especially when your goal is to quietly investigate something.


    Turning the key off the ignition, I bend to the side so I can grab the metal box carefully placed underneath the passenger seat. Once in hand, I bring it up to the seat and turn on the ceiling light so I can precisely grab what I want. Opening the old, rusty metal box with some stickers from an old cartoon show, I see my equipment, just itching to be of use in some action.


    First, I grab the flashlight and use the pocket clip to hang it on my belt. Then, my fingers trace the cold, metal texture of my Beretta. With luck, I won''t need to use it, but it is always best to be ready, so I take it with me. Lastly, I grab my taser and pepper spray, putting them on my utility belt, as it should provide for a less lethal way to deal with a problem. The last remaining thing in the box is some medical stuff, just in case we have an emergency and need to stop someone''s bleeding, even if what it has would be good for two minutes maximum before becoming useless.


    I put the box back where it was and make sure to take a deep, calming breath, soothing the waves of thought in my brain, before steeling fully and opening the door. My first step outside creates a loud sound of a branch being cracked; how could I forget the one thing that can make all of this harder than necessary: the terrain. Closing the door, I store the keys in my jeans pocket and start moving, shining the flashlight forward to give me enough light to not stumble awkwardly on some rock along the way.


    Trees sway with the gasp of winds that cross the hidden paths of the forest; different smells ranging from wet dirt to animal feces reach my nostrils, almost managing to make me cough; the small trail leading to the old mill comes to a stop as the fence with the clear warning ''private property, stay clear'' stands in the way; only the cuts in the bottom of it are getting so old at this point that even the lightest of the touches can make it open, and that''s what I do.


    Squatting, I lift the cut part of the fence and move on, slowly putting it back in place before shining some light towards the sawmill that now stands in front of me.


    Old wooden walls painted red a long time ago almost lost their colors due to time. Barricaded windows on the first floor remain clear, with the ones on the upper floor staying clear, with only parts of the divided glass broken. Nearing the door that allows entry to the place, I catch a glimpse of the fireplace that the teens use to cook food when partying, tracks of the motorcycles belonging to some of them who prefer not to hike their way up the train tracks to get here, but no sign of a gray car nowhere around.


    If whoever was supposed to be here took the normal path to arrive, they would need to park nearby, but even when I took the branching dirt path, there were no signs of a car. The door that is generally closed by the teens hangs half open, giving me a glimpse of the darkness that awaits me once inside the building.


    "Dammit, fuck; I don''t like this one bit." Trembling hands and a hard time breathing strikes me; of course, today I would have to deal with one of my two biggest fears: the dark. To worsen my situation, my mind starts to project scenarios where some monstrosities lurk or a raccoon stands ready to scratch my face. I took it upon myself to do this, so there is no time to be scared.


    Fighting my instincts as best I can and mustering all the gentleness I can muster, my fingers push the old door open. It creaks and cracks loudly; if anyone is inside, they sure know I''m here after this, but not wanting to overthink things, I point the flashlight at my surroundings and finally enter the mill.


    Cold, dark, and as quiet as an empty church, the filthy floor, swarmed by used plastic cups and half-smoked blunts, creates a smell so strong of alcohol and weed that I''m sure that for the next fifty years at least, the smell will prevail, rooted on the rotten wood floor; who knows, maybe it will outlive me.


    Out of nowhere, something on the ground reflects the beam of light as I move, hitting my eye and driving me to blink and move the flashlight away to stop it. When my vision is not being attacked anymore, I carefully point the light near the thing to see who did it.


    Two empty bullet cases stand near the stairs leading up; the moment I notice it, my body moves on its own, with my right hand finding a tight grip on my gun''s handle. I flash some light on the stairs, seeing nothing there, then stopping to see if I hear movement, and ending up with nothing.


    As the surprise goes away, I remember to refrain from touching the cases, as I''m sure Astero will be mad if I mess with his evidence. My eyes dance around, looking for any blood or bullet holes, beginning at the walls and ending on the ceiling, but nothing¡ªno holes, and not a single drop of blood.


    I stop to think of my next move, pondering if it would be best to brave the upper floor or see the lower area first. Before I can reach a decision, though, two things happen at the same time, leaving me stunned for a moment.


    The first is the vibration coming from my pocket; the sensation scares me more than anything before I remember about my phone, but then, up the stairs, I hear a bunch of footsteps rapidly moving around before the sound of breaking glass rings, followed by a solid thump outside, indicating that either something was thrown out¡ªor someone.


    Adrenaline kicks in, and I find myself turning around to the exit door. Flashes of gory images representing what I might find outside flood my mind, stealing me of my courage, but only for a single second.


    In this tight passage of time, a gasp of wind passes me by two times, two shadows that move past me in a single frame before leaving me to question what I just saw. My patience begins to wane, and unwilling to succumb to the chaos, I suppress my anger and rush outside to investigate the situation.


    As I pass the door, it feels like being hit by a car on the street. My head spins nauseatingly as it has a hard time processing what''s happening; it isn''t just my head that spins unfortunately, but my body as well, as I found out when confronted with the air resistance.


    My back hits the cold, hard dirt ground near the fence; the force I was thrown away makes itself clear by the distance I traveled; I let out a sharp hiss as the pain settles in my bones; and the overfamiliar taste of blood coats my tongue, assaulting my taste buds.


    My lungs, depleted of the air they once used to keep me alert, strike me with a series of desperate coughs in an attempt to regain their lover; the flashlight, once in my hand, skids on the dirt, finding its rest not far from me, its flash aimed at the moving shadows in front of me; almost like one of those Chinese shadow puppet shows.


    At this point, I can''t say for sure if it is my head playing tricks or if the fall was that bad, but they move so fast that I can''t keep on, four shadows dancing in a fight that seems endless until it doesn''t.


    One of them forces the other''s face onto the ground, hitting the person''s head so hard that the crack I hear almost convinces me they are dead, until I see them struggling to escape once more like nothing happened.


    With great effort, I manage to put myself on my hands and knees, already starting to move to an encounter with my flashlight; once I manage to grasp it tightly, I, with a painful grunt, start to force myself to my feet, clearly having difficulty standing up as my head spins still. To worsen my luck, the damn flashlight dies, a product of Melissa not changing its batteries as I asked her to.


    Out of nowhere, as I move to rub my brows, a shadowed figure looms over me in the moonlight, stripped of all visible features but their curves¡ªsomething that suggests they are a woman. The figure is polite enough to assist me, holding my arm and effortlessly stabilizing my body in a standing position.


    "Are you okay?" The woman asks in a kind, truly preoccupied voice before gazing at my body, seeing that I no longer need to be held to stand up. "Good, if you can, run back to the city and forget what you saw here today; it isn''t safe for you to stay."


    "Wait," A voice calls out, belonging to the one holding the figure down; she¡ªas the voice leaves to imagine¡ªgrowls angrily. "You''re seriously contemplating the idea of letting them walk out of here? They saw us."


    "You say that like it matters; no one is going to believe their story, even if they try their best." Another one comments with snarky laughter. "But if you''re all up for a more exciting way to deal with it, I''ll take her thighs."


    "No!" The one in front of me positions herself more defensively, using her body as a barrier to the other''s eyes. "We are not doing something as cruel as that."


    "Relax, princess; I''m just fucking with you." The sarcastic figure holds their hands high in surrender and exhales loudly. "Sheesh, when are you going to learn to take a joke, huh?"


    Confused and hurt, I have a hard time following their discussion, but already feeling tired of this show, I move a step to the side to put everyone in view. Even if I can''t see their faces, at least I am able to know where they are, which should help in case they try to escape.


    "Okay, that is enough!" Summoning the most commanding tone I can, I somehow manage to get their conversation to die and to make their attention fall solely on me. "Either someone comes forth and tells me what the hell is going on or everybody will have to spend the night in jail."


    Using the opportunity the diversion of their attention creates, the figure being held captive that I can''t even make out their shape entirely, only noting that they seem to be a man¡ªa gangly one¡ªwho manages to free one of his arms and uses their elbows to connect with his holder''s jaw, so strongly in fact that once more I hear a cracking sound that generally, on a normal night, would mean something really bad, but today isn''t normal by any means.


    Once he is up on his feet, I move to draw my gun, and in that time the figure already disappeared from where it stood; I have to blink fast to even be able to notice a flash of the men passing me by. Everything feels so surreal that it hurts my head.


    The group, at the man''s escape, starts to tense up and prepare themselves to go after him, but having other plans, I move in front of them and aim my gun at the skies, cocking the hammer, and then pulling the trigger without a second thought in mind.


    Bang


    The sheer reverberation of the shoot is enough to daze them before they even try to do anything, and so, at this moment, I have gained control over the situation¡ªor at least I like to think so. Tired and pissed off, I aim my gun at them and firm my foot on the ground.


    "Don''t even think of that; no one leaves this place until I get some answers."


    Amazingly, they all stop without complaining at first¡ªall three of them¡ªand my hands, now tasting the control, stop trembling as I firm my fingers around the hilt of the gun so strongly that my fingernails mark the grip.


    "No one? But you just left that bastard slip through your fingers." The sarcastic one, once again, snarls and seems to grin amusedly, their strangely sharp teeth reflecting the moonlight. "That alone tells much about how ''good'' you''re in your line of work."


    It is easy to notice I''m outnumbered, so I decide to try dialing my tone down one notch, just to be sure the situation doesn''t escalate because of a dumb move of mine. I would love to use the radio in the car to call backup, but my decision from earlier to park on the other side of the rails comes back to bite me in the ass.


    "Fuck this, I''m not hearing some idiot human." The angry one announces and moves a step closer, striding without fear even when faced with a gun pointed at them; their growl echoes so loudly that even some nocturnal birds run at the sound. "You can either get out of my way, or someone will have to use a shovel to reunite all your parts."


    "I''ll advise you just one more time, stand down; or else I won''t be responsible for what happens next." My voice, in comparison, low and calm, serves as a clear warning to not try testing me further.


    "Oh, but you will... you will be responsible." With an indomitable confidence, the sarcastic one steps closer as well, mimicking the actions of the other one. "This is fun and all, but it is time someone calls your bluff. You can''t really shoot, can you? I put my money when I say you can''t; your heart is beating very fast; that is enough to tell me you''re deeply afraid to pull the trigger."


    ''What... am I?'', stopping to analyze their words, I can say it''s true; my hands itch ever so away from the trigger, and my legs shake ever so slightly; at least, I''m not forced to think much longer before the sound of something hitting one of the upper windows makes me swing around, and then, when I turn back to the group, they all have vanished, just like smoke into the night.


    No footsteps, no nothing; just their inexistence. The adrenaline that kept me up starts to say its goodbyes, promising me a pain like never before in the morning; a dull ache throbbing at my side proves my point.


    There is nothing I can do anymore; there''s no one here to interrogate, not even a single thing to do but go home; of course, before I do that, I text the sergeant about my findings and start stumbling out of the mill area to find my car.


    Tomorrow I''ll wake up early to deal with all of this, but today, I can say with all my being, "I''ve never been so eager to get home."


    <hr>

 Midnight: -The Temperance, The Fool, and The Tower-

    Midnight


    <hr>


    Meanwhile, in the agency''s office.


    "Can one of you explain to me how in the world three, well-trained agents managed to let a single, weak target escape their hands?"


    A woman, who appears to be in her late twenties, asks with a look of disappointment, suspiring her tiredness away. Holding her arms tightly across her chest, she uses her deep blue eyes to gaze at the group in hopes of getting a solid answer.


    Inside the well-lit office, the three agents separate themselves to their comfort; one sits on the chair in front of a very organized table of the woman, holding a casual smile on their lips as their hands rest composedly atop their thighs, as the other two stands on their feet with different levels of emotions on their faces: anger and disinterest.


    When the other two members refuse to engage in conversation, the calmer member clears their throat before speaking.


    "If I may, with all due respect, ma''am, we were expecting a lot of things to happen, considering the type of target we were pursuing, but to imagine a human would travel all the way to the abandoned building in the middle of the forest was not one of them; and for that human to be involved with the local authorities is... less than ideal of an outcome, I''m sure. So we are ready to accept our punishment, whatever it may be."


    "Well, that is good to hear," The woman''s words manage to confuse the three agents who were clearly expecting a different reaction, but to some of them, the following words are enough of a punishment. She then retrieves a piece of paper from the top of her table and presents it to the agents.


    "The higher-ups sent new orders for you three; in their own words, "We can''t risk a human in such a position to put our operations at risk; one delay can mean the death of many; so to this, unit 0''s new orders are to work alongside the local authorities and try achieving the goal of both keeping the witness at bay, incapable of delving too deep into the truth, and understanding the target''s goals with its recent activities to put a stop to whatever it may reveal itself to be." If it isn''t clear enough, for the time being, all of you are to stay in Havenport until the case is solved."


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "You can''t be serious! First, this human gets in our way, and now we have to play house with them? What kind of logic is that?" Almost barking these words, the agent hits their palm against the table, creating a crack in the wood that runs all the way down the furniture leg; seeing this, their rage subsides into something more controlled. With a sharp sigh, they attempt to calm themselves.


    "We are responsible for all that goes wrong on our missions, so all we can do is try not to give our handler more to deal with, and on the side, find a new way to deal with this situation." The agent shoots a smile at the blonde woman, knowing of the headache this imposes on everyone.


    Closing their hand into a tight fist, the angry agent nods their head and exhales more calmly. "I understand; if this is the only way, then there''s nothing to be discussed."


    "Wow, I never imagined the day would come when you would be reasonable; is it going to rain?" For the first time, the last of the three agents make their comment, grinning like the devil as they lean against the office''s wall.


    As a fight starts to give signs of brewing, the blonde woman clicks her heels together and taps her fingers against the table.


    "You''re all free to go; I''ll need the unit ready and on track tomorrow morning. I''ll try contacting the city''s management to see if I can set up a meeting between the agency and their police department before they go out to explore without us."


    "Yes ma''am." The composed agent nods their head and walks towards the door, grabbing the mocking one by the ear and pulling them out of the office with a cacophony of pained groans and sorrys from them.


    Soon all three of them are gone, leaving the woman to finally express her tiredness. Rubbing the dark circles under her eyes in hopes of making them disappear, she lingers her hand closer to her phone, ready to prepare for the day that lies ahead after this one ends.


    <hr>

 Day 2: -We Are Not Checkmated; I Am Yet to Play-

    Day 2


    Time: 6:45


    <hr>


    Sleep didn''t come easy at night; the burning, sharp feeling in my side made damn sure of that, forcing me to toss and turn restless in search of that one spot where there was no pain to bug me, where everything was just right, but even when that happened, in my mind the strange encounter kept replaying like a broken record, stealing me of any tiredness I had.


    The shadowed figures, the bullet cases, the echoing mix of groans and punches¡ªmore questions than answers permeate my head every time I come back to that scene.


    BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!


    The insistent, merciless beeping of my alarm interrupts my line of thought. Squinting my tired eyes, I lazily move my hand around until I finally find it on my nightstand.


    The slap I give the button on top is enough to shut it up, finally making the irritating sound go away; unfortunately, it takes a second or two more for it to finish echoing in my head before allowing me peace.


    Tired yet, my back sinks deeper into the soft spot of the mattress, and my lazy eyes lock on the ceiling, still a bit blurry from drowsiness. I allow myself to enjoy the quietness of my small house, the light cream walls calming my rushing head ever so slightly as their familiarity settles on me, telling me that ''I''m home''.


    Planning to kill some time, I get a hold of my phone that I, without noticing, had left beneath my pillow before going to sleep and start to check if anyone has messaged me or if there is any interesting news; the news part comes as expected, nothing but talks about yesterday''s murder, but when I open my message app, the twenty new messages come as a true surprise. All of them come from a single person, the Sergeant, so without losing a beat, I open the chat to see what happened.


    The first ones are from yesterday night; he starts by saying that he got my message with a thumbs-up sticker, then he congratulates me once again for the promotion and blah blah blah, but at five in the morning he starts to talk about a meeting between the department and an unknown agency that the mayor got contacted by and that he needs me on the station at seven o''clock; looking at the top part of my phone, I see that it is already six fifty-one, so I have nine minutes to get there.


    The rest of his messages are asking if I got them, to which I respond now with, ''I''ll be there in ten.''.


    "Ugh! Why does everything have to happen this early?" I let out a groan as I force myself out of bed, the soles of my feet meeting the overfamiliar coldness of the wooden board floor that jolts some energy into me. In a practiced move, I walk to the bathroom, my hands lingering on the metal knob of the door, preparing myself mentally to take the fastest bath I can.


    After bathing myself to get rid of the dirt that still hides itself in between my hair strands, putting yesterday''s clothes on the washing machine on the ground floor so they are good for tomorrow, and checking to see if there''s anything that I can munch on my way to the station, keeping in mind that I need to run, I finally find myself ready to go.


    I wear a comfortable pair of jeans, a more sturdy pair of boots considering I''ll have to go towards the mill after finishing this meeting, and a simple shirt hidden beneath the station''s hoodie I got as a prize from getting the most arrests on the year when I first joined¡ªsomething not so hard considering most were drugged teens that we locked up until their parents could come to pick them up and get them home.


    Out of the kitchen, I walk back up the stairs to the corridor on the second floor to check on Mel''s room. I knock on the door and hear a hurried tone as she seems to have some difficulty with something.


    "Come in," she says, and so I turn the knob and push it open, already stepping inside.


    Before I can even move more than that, Pirate, our one-eyed golden retriever, rises from Melissa''s bed to greet me, jumping to the floor and coming closer to me; once close enough, he sits down and barks once, saying his ''hi'' to me.


    "Mel, what did I say about keeping Pirate in your room?" I ask, shifting my gaze to her and noticing her already in uniform, struggling just to finish putting on her boots, brush her teeth, and text on her phone at the same time. "This way he will never learn to sleep alone, and that will be your responsibility to deal with."


    "That''s fine; besides, he''s like a fluffy, warm plushie." At the words, Pirate barks, knowing that he is the center of the talk, his happiness clear by the way his tail sways rapidly.


    "Well, if you say so, then okay; but I need you ready now," I start to rush her, checking on my phone every third second as the realization that I''ll be at least some minutes late becomes ever so real. "The Sergeant wants us to be there in two, and I found an interesting, possible crime scene for us."


    "Really?" She asks surprised, ridding her mouth of the toothbrush and rushing to her bathroom to spit it on the sink; once done, she puts her face out of the bathroom to continue. "How did you manage that? And where is it?"


    "Alexandrina gave me some info that someone found a suspicious person entering the old mill at night, and when I got there I found some bullet cases, but nothing more than that." I refrain from saying anything about the shadows and fight that broke out.


    "Okay, I''m ready now if you are." She says, exiting the bathroom while fixing her clothes. "Pirate, take care of the house for us, okay?"


    At the order, promptly he gets to his paws and rushes down the stairs in front of us to see us go; it is a little hard to do so when he looks at us expectantly of our return already, but with a pet on his head and a lot of pampering from Mel, we close the front door and get to my car.


    Arriving at the wooden door of the station, I''m quick to notice some unknown cars parked outside, in specific a yellow Ferrari 360 Modena which just happens to cost about five to ten years of my salary at least, a Harley-Davidson motorcycle with lots of travel stickers decorating its chassis, a black SUV with privacy glass windows that hide its insides, very mysteriously so, and a surely impressive Chevrolet Impala belonging to no one other than the mayor.


    "I''ll fetch Lee so we can go to the scene and close the area before any curious onlookers get there; we''ll leave it all ready for you. Good luck with the meeting."


    Melissa places a comforting hand on my shoulder, shooting me a helping smile before pushing the door open and entering beside me; she keeps on her way to the office area to get ready as I stop for a moment to breathe in some courage.


    Anja sits behind the reception. Curiously, she doesn''t have her phone in hand this time; instead, she has her arms crossed tightly against her chest, her legs hitting the floor rhythmically, clearly upset about something.


    "Morning, Anja." I approach her table with a small smile, trying to conceal my curiosity.


    "Hey, Detective," She answers with a half-smile and a tone that tells me she''s either kind of down or pissed off; I can''t tell exactly. "My father- the mayor asked me to hurry you to your office the moment you got through the door¡ªsomething about a meeting for you to attend or whatever."


    "Yeah, I''m just about to go there; but first, let me ask, did something happen?"


    Her personality can be challenging at times, but even so, stopping to think now, there was not a single instance where she talked back or did things halfway when we needed her help; the times we had to have her call the technician to fix the coffee machine or to get Doctor Foster on the line for Astero so he could get a different perspective on an experiment, she always was fast to do so.


    "The mayor told me to ''focus more on my work'' to not embarrass him anymore and asked me to put the phone down when I was searching something for the lab guy; not even to say hi to his daughter first."


    I''m sure it isn''t easy to be the mayor''s daughter, especially when he is such a first-category asshole; for all the encounters I had with him, he was always quick to treat me like nothing, a dust ball on his path; the memory alone makes my blood boil.


    "I''ll be straight with you; your help has been of a great deal recently, okay; hear it from someone who sees how you work. You helped us find an affordable technician in the city to help fix some things; you never complain when we ask you to do something, and that means a lot around here. You can pick up your phone now; if he asks anything, say, I asked you to do something for me, and let me deal with it."


    "No, there''s no need; when he got to your office, I finished what I had to do. But thanks; hearing that helps; you''re an alright person." ''Alright?'', Well, it''s better than nothing, I guess, and coming from her, it must be a high praise. "Anyway, is best you go; you''re late by almost fifteen minutes by now."


    "Oh shit, you''re right," I say, checking my phone and confirming her words; what I''ll have to hear won''t be little, I''m sure. "Thank you for the talk, till later."


    Rushing my goodbyes, I start walking fast towards my office; for a moment I look back to Anja, seeing that at least her shoulders seem less heavy, so that''s a good thing. With my hands glued to the door, I use a little too much strength to push it open and step inside; my action almost manages to hit someone who''s leaning against the office''s walls.


    Inside, two people are waiting for me: the mayor, who sighs as he pushes the door back and closes it, and a woman, somewhat familiar by her long blonde hair and blue eyes, but exactly where I saw her before escapes me, sitting on the chair in front of my unorganized table. ''That''s right,'' I think to myself, ''I didn''t have time to tidy things up yesterday.'' Even if most of those papers were left by Reele, the blame will surely fall on me for not cleaning them up.


    "Hi Mayor, I''m sorry; I didn''t expect you to be behind the door, and sorry for being late as well. I hope you two didn''t have to wait too much." Putting on my best work smile, I move inside the office to the side of my table so I can greet the woman properly; her blue eyes fall on me, studying my form up and down for a moment, something that strikes my memory instantly. "Wait, you''re the woman from yesterday on the diner, aren''t you?"


    Slightly surprised, the woman nods her head in affirmation. "Yes. I didn''t expect you to remember my face because of how short our interaction was. And don''t you worry; my work requires me to wait for long periods of time, so it is not a problem." The woman rises to her feet and smiles, extending her hand to me in a more formal greeting; I take her hand in mine and shake it properly. "Besides, because of how the situation evolved so rapidly, I had no other choice but to contact your department this early; if anything, this should be expected."


    Wow, okay, now that is something I don''t see every day; she''s being a lot more understanding than I expected, but of course, by the face the mayor is making, he has a different opinion that he doesn''t voice out loud. Adjusting his nice, expensive-looking suit, he takes a step closer so he can be more efficiently part of the conversation.


    "As I was saying before being rudely interrupted by Detective River''s late arrival, Miss Julia, as a small city administrator, I''m deeply honored that your agency decided to lend us a hand on our latest case; if your agents need to take over the case in any way, feel free to take command of the investigation." He says it all so composedly, like it is a normal thing, that I almost miss the part where he is basically saying I''m a good-for-nothing who needs to be second-handled by someone else to do my work.


    My hands close in a tight fist, but yet, I do my best to keep calm; meanwhile, the woman, Julia, shakes her head. "I understand your position, mayor, but if anything, your detective being in the command of my unity is better than other alternatives; we don''t wish to leave your department with professionals that need outside help to operate." I notice she turning her gaze towards me, studying my face deeply¡ªsomething that leaves me confused for a second before she returns her attention to the mayor. "I believe it is time to explain the situation to the detective, is it not?"


    The mayor, reminded of my feeble existence, nods his head and adjusts his posture to one that looks less like he is about to worship the woman''s whole existence. "Yes, you''re absolutely right. Detective Rivers, Miss Julia''s agency has decided, in an act of kindness, to lend us one of their unities so we can deal with these harsh times more easily; if anything, you should be honored, as I am, to receive this opportunity within your small hands grasp."


    It sickens me profoundly the way this old man adjusts his gray hair like he is someone important, or how he leaves his beard needing trimming to grab people''s sympathies by the image of being the ''good and ol'' mayor, the one who always saved this city''; it is worse yet when a memory comes to me about a news article, a very old one, that talked about how he and his late wife, compared to Anja, were not so similar, with the possibility, that was confirmed later by the coming forth of a outside woman, of the girl being a fruit of night out of them that both maintained as a secret; sometimes I ask myself if this is the reason he''s so hard on Anja.


    This all smells off somehow. I understand many things, and one of them is that nothing in life is free, and most of the time, a helping hand has a second intention hidden between fingers. "Mayor, can I ask you to step out for a moment? I believe that as now we are going to work together with this agency, it would be good if I could share some clues I already gathered with Miss Julia. You understand, right?" I just need to get him out of the room, and then I''ll be free to stop acting and ask the real questions.


    Clearly upset to be asked to wait outside like us mere mortals, the mayor''s white skin turns a shade of deep, boiling red, but before he can fully open his mouth to contest, the agency woman talks. "I believe so as well; your department doesn''t stop to surprise me, Mister Mayor. It is wise to share information in order to build a strong relationship."


    Returning to his normal color, the mayor nods his head, as if all the woman talks is pure God''s words, and proceeds to leave the room with a smile on his face directed to Julia and an ''I''m looking'' gaze towards me.


    Once he''s fully away, I force myself to forget about him; the smile on my face dies down to a serious expression; to my surprise, it is like the woman had already anticipated that this was my true intention all along.


    "Feel free to interrogate me, detective; I can see how your fingers are itching to ask the important questions." She says just like before, but somehow I can notice a tone of amusement hidden in between notes.


    "You can bullshit the mayor into thinking that this is all in good faith, but not me; what is it that you want? To take over the case when we reach the final conclusion so your agency can keep the credits?"


    "Would you be open to believing me if I told you that my work here is to just keep everything in check? Protecting both your department and your city from a deranged killer?"


    "Yeah, sure. Maybe in my dreams. For a government branch to want to dip their feet into our waters, it can only be because of the thing we both know about; this is all about the Galileo Biotech connection." I smile as confusion strikes the woman; how does she plan to lie her way out now? Maybe she will say something to divert my attention, or maybe she will be forced to slip something up.


    "Galileo Biotech? Is that some type of connection you made with the victim''s background?" She asks in a tone so true to curiosity that for once I start to think she''s actually being real with me.


    "Uhm... wait? Did you not know that?" I... dammit, I was so focused on trying to see through her that I talked too much; wait, so why is it that they want to participate in the case? No, let me reevaluate her claim. "The killer, you said about protecting the city from a deranged killer, so by your confusion I can assume that they and the place I just mentioned have no connection whatsoever, right?"


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    "Not one that I had any previous knowledge about, no; like I said before, we only just contacted the city''s management for a meeting." Tilting her head for a moment, she regains her composure from before and crosses her legs and arms, thinking about something before continuing to talk. "I know you didn''t give me the information because you wanted to, but I''ll level our transaction with something that I''m sure you''ll want to know; the killer we are looking for, it is safe to assume that they are connected somehow to another one we attempted to hunt down months ago without success. That is the number two reason we are here for."


    "And what would be the reason number one?" I ask, already knowing by her smile that she won''t say.


    "That is a secret, at least for now. In any way, my time here is up," She informs while getting up to her feet; she adjusts her formal clothes to unwrinkle them and smiles, somehow managing to make it feel real; maybe it is. At this point, I can''t tell anymore; I''m too angered by my own slip-up. "The mayor and I have things to discuss, more papers to sign, and so on; I''ll leave my agents to your care. I will ask them to join you here on my way out." Before she leaves the room fully, she places atop my table a business card with what I assume is either her number or the agency she works for. "You have sharp eyes, puppy, but it is clear you talk a little too much when confident; I''m sure working with you will be enjoyable."


    As the woman leaves my office, I''m left with only one thing to do: by cleaning some of the paper mess in the office, I aim to not make a godawful fool of myself once more, but somehow, I imagine I shall.


    One thing I learn as I organize the files on an empty card box I found underneath the sofa is that most of them are from cases long closed, dating to even before I was born: strange disappearances that never came to a solid conclusion, murders with strange and unknown methods, and not least, strange reports from eyewitnesses who claims were nothing short of crazy talk. Why was he so interested in this stuff? And another thing: why are there so many empty coffee cups hidden in the drawers? Couldn''t he just throw them away in the bin outside?


    Before I can start formulating better my doubts, a knock on my office door brings me back to reality. Shifting my eyes to the shadows behind it, I notice two different shapes moving behind the frosted glass.


    Shutting the drawers, I put the box, now filled with the files, on the ground and kick it back to hiding underneath the sofa, trying as best to leave the place presentable in the least time so it doesn''t seem strange to the people waiting outside.


    "Come in," I say out loud before placing myself beside my table, trying to look as best as I can manage.


    At my words, the door opens slowly, and from behind it, three people make themselves known before stepping in; one, though, is quick to approach me with an extended hand as the other two stay hidden behind their shadow.


    "I''m sorry for our sudden arrival; you''re Detective Rivers, right?" A tall woman, holding a smile on her face that makes the mole beneath her lips easier to spot, asks; her tan skin contrasts against the light coming from the open window atop the sofa mesmerizingly, enhancing the oddness of her clothing choice. "It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Agent Dalia, but please, as we are going to be working together, feel free to drop the honorifics."


    I shake the woman''s hand, taking advantage of the moment she closes her eyes to study her further. Her wavy brown hair sways smoothly as she moves, ending on her shoulder, making me notice the necklace she has with a bird skull and bones tied on the thin string that encircles her neck in three full circles.


    She wears something that makes her look like one of those people you would find selling ''magical'' stuff on the end of most commercial streets: a long coat over a halfway unbuttoned vest that tops a white tunic with long sleeves, ataman canvas trousers that I only saw before in old medieval movies; she has her nails painted deep black, with no shine or anything, just the solid color; and that is all I look before stopping, as I have no intention to be mistaken with a creep for overanalyzing someone.


    "It is good to meet you too; who are the others?" I ask, already expecting a presentation from the other two that doesn''t seem to come.


    "Oh, yes; I''m sorry, excuse their ways; these two are less sociable today because of the hour they had to wake up." Turning around to face the other two agents, the woman whispers to the one directly behind her¡ªa woman with fair skin and long black hair that would make many people either jealous or enticed.


    At the words from Agent Dalia, this woman steps closer, carrying a serious, almost cold expression on her face that feels very intimidating, especially evident when I notice the scar crossing the path under her left eye, like a lightning bolt that reaches its end on her jaw and seems to carry some story behind it.


    The woman stops and stares at my face, locking her black eyes on mine¡ªa gaze that carries a rage that I can''t understand why they are there considering this is the first time I''m seeing her. Slightly offended, I try gazing back at her but find myself unable to; something that, once more, strikes familiar until the same memory from meeting Julia gets to me. ''They were the people in the diner, the ones eating in the far-sided booth.''


    Coughing to stop her friend from staring, Agent Dalia looks at me apologetically before proceeding with the presentation. "This one here is Agent Colette; she is what you call a ''field specialist''; her ability to find clues is one I believe will come in hand to the investigation ahead."


    The words from her seem to check out, as even with this clearly complicated personality, comparing the two she seems to be more professional; her style actually adds a lot to that, as she wears a formal set of black pants, black knee-high leather boots, thigh-highs, a simple white blouse with a heavy black coat on top with its middle being held by a belt, making her lean figure look more imposing, and a pair of black gloves adorning her hands.


    Agent Dalia moves to introduce the last one but is interrupted by them before she can even start; this last agent lazily moves forward from the other''s shadows, their face seemingly a lot younger than the other two; they look to be twenty-one or two, as the other agents are more in the range of twenty-six and twenty-eight.


    Their face have a lot of small but deep scars on them, looking like a cat scratched their pale skin with a knife; on a lucky gaze, I even see some scars on their fingers and the end part of their wrist, as the rest are hidden beneath a golden canyon flannel shirt, or so I assume.


    "Sup. I''m Yui." They extend their hand to me very casually, and when I reach to shake it, they instead slap it before fist bumping my hand. I try adjusting myself to this sudden personality discrepancy from the others by being quick to adapt. "For now that is all you need to know, and I guess I''m the group''s technical specialist; if anything is electronic, just leave it to me."


    Having done their presentation, they step away and give the center stage to Agent Dalia; as they do so, I notice their shaggy hair tied in a ponytail, three hoop piercings on their ears, the ragged jeans they use, and a popular pair of all starts on their feet. Everything about them screams something different about gender, so seeing that they didn''t say anything about it, I''ll just be neutral about it to avoid anything bad.


    After all of that is done, I make sure to take a step back to address everyone at once. Gazing at the wall clock atop the door, I see that from the time I arrived, it has passed more or less half an hour, enough time for Mel to have the mill ready for us.


    "Okay, it is good to meet everyone, and now that we know each other''s names, I think there is nothing more to do than share some stuff with you all, so we are on the same page." When the words leave my mouth, every one of the agents starts to focus their attention solely on me¡ªwell, everyone but Agent Yui, who looks at something on their phone and, from time to time, glances away from it to catch up. "The name of the victim is Melinda Kolesov; her cause of death is still in processing, as is her age, but in a search on the internet, the one responsible for running the station''s lab and I managed to find out she is head of some projects on a lab her father, Andrey Kolesov, funds; the lab is ''Galileo Biotech Lab and Research''. Before she was murdered, the victim did a good job of dressing herself to impress, putting some good effort into it, so it is not a far stretch to assume she was enjoying the night somewhere in the city; if it was drinking or something else, we will learn with the lab results later."


    Humming a thought, Agent Dalia shifts her gaze to the floor for a minute and then raises her eyes to my meeting. "With all you''ve told us, the only option we have is to investigate whether there''s a strong connection between this lab and her cause of death, no?"


    "Well, it is certainly a possibility; we did find a flip phone on her boot with all her information written on it, so we assume this was either premeditated or she was a very cautious girl, and any of them make it hard to just think she would be dragged by someone away easily, which connects with the dirt I found underneath her fingernails. She fought, but the killer was stronger, or once more, they knew what they wanted beforehand, and with a good plan they were able to abuse of something to make the victim fall for a trap."


    "The flip phone you talked about¡ªwere there no messages or call logs on it that could indicate she was contacted by someone that could be the killer?" Agent Yui, putting their phone to rest on their lap, seems to gain more interest in the case, and so makes their questions known. Interestingly, both agents look at them like this is a rare thing to happen before hiding their surprise away by focusing back on me, awaiting an answer.


    "The phone had almost no contacts, just the ones from her family; that is why I have reasons to suspect she had a primary phone, one that the killer took. We are trying to contact her workplace to see if we can get her number, and if we do, we can start tracking it down. One more thing to add is that her father called the hidden-phone a lot before suddenly stopping yesterday after the murder."


    "There''s no way we can work like this," Agent Colette rises to her feet angrily, shoving her hands in her pocket and pulling out a phone. "I''m calling the agency to say what I did yesterday; this is a waste of our time."


    Promptly, Agent Dalia rises to her feet and snaps the phone out of the woman''s hands. "Colette, stop acting like a kid; you promised you would give this a go, so please be patient."


    Agent Yui laughs sarcastically and directs her sharp gaze towards both of them. "Forget it, Lia, the word ''patience'' doesn''t exist in her vocabulary; isn''t it right, puppy?"


    The scene that unfolds in front of me makes me question a lot of things: ''How can federal agents act like that?'', ''What is happening?''¡ªthe basics, but at least it helps me calm myself seeing that they are just humans, like me, and not the ''superior being'' most people working for the government think they are.


    Summoning all the air to permeate my lungs, I close my hand and bring it down strongly on the wooden table, creating a painful sound that stops their argument and almost breaks my bones as well.


    "Guys, I''m not done talking; there is one more thing to add that might be what we are looking for to proceed with the case." My words end their fight, and for a moment I think they are going to ask something, but once I notice they are not, I continue. "Yesterday night, I investigated a place in the city¡ªan old sewing mill that most teens use as a party holder. I had a ''trustworthy'' contact that placed a gray car there that, when I arrived, was no more." As I talk, it is like they are holding their breath for some reason, or maybe they are expecting the best part, I don''t know, but their eyes all focus not like before on me; good, that means they are finally piqued. "Of course, I didn''t linger just on watching the place from afar, so I entered the area and found something interesting; on the ground, there were some bullet cases, but no blood, or at least not a single drop I could see with my flashlight on that dark. That is why I asked one of the officers to go up there and close the area for us."


    "Bullet cases?" Agent Dalia mutters to herself before shooting a glance at the other two; she and Agent Colette start to communicate with gestures I can''t understand but lose interest in very quickly, especially knowing I''m on the clock here.


    "We are leaving now, so please get ready or catch up." Leaving them to their discussion, I stride out of the room without looking back to check if they are following, passing by the empty office and reaching the entrance, where I notice Anja once more on her phone, but this time she looks more like herself.


    She catches my gaze and raises her hand; for once since she started working here, she gestures to me a ''bye''. I reply with a nod of my head as I push open the old, wooden door, meeting the cold, sharp air outside that I quickly get bored of and seek shelter in my car.


    Inside the detective''s empty office


    Dalia leans her back against the solid wall of the room and crosses her arms tightly against her chest, leaving one hand free to gesture as she speaks.


    "Now we know why you both were able to hear gunshots before we arrived on the scene, but there''s no way the target was the one to pull the trigger; they wouldn''t need a gun to kill efficiently. Furthermore, they would only expose themselves to being found by the loud sound."


    "Yes," Colette nods her head in affirmation, using the time they are lingering around to look in the room for anything that can help them learn more about anything regarding their secondary target, the detective. "Independent of being just a fledgling, they possess strength enough to deal with a human; that is where the blood scent Yui was able to catch comes into play; something happened there that, if it wasn''t for the detective, we would be one step closer to learning by now." She says as she goes through some papers in view on the table, seeing only old files to cases dated about thirty years ago.


    "Yeah, you say that, but you didn''t know about the cartridges until the detective opened her pretty mouth; knowing you, as soon as we had gotten the target in our hands, you would be more eager to return base than to search around." Yawning lazily, Yui throws themselves on the comfy sofa, curling up around the lingering scent belonging to the detective that she makes sure to bask in to ensure maximum comfort. "Try to be happy for once that someone with such a sweet aroma is doing your job for you and relax; I know I''m sure... to do... so."


    Being grabbed by the neck suddenly, Yui''s body is lifted by the neck strongly before they can find deep sleep; Colette makes sure to squeeze tightly enough to bring the agent''s energy back by primal instinct, earning a groan from them followed by a punch that doesn''t manage to move the woman''s hard muscle wall.


    "There''s no happiness to be found in knowing you slipped up on something important." She comments, making sure that Yui is on their two feet before weakening her grasp enough to allow them to break away. "Focus on your damn job, because if I find you lazing around again, I''ll make sure to test how ''immortal'' your type can be."


    "Lia!" Yui, rubbing their neck and hissing at the other agent, calls out almost like a child to their mother. "Are you going to let her do this just like that?"


    "Enough! You both," Dalia, reaching the edge of her patience, stumps her foot on the wooden floor as strongly as she can to daze them both with the sound. "That is exactly why we are in the position we are in right now; Colette, swallow your pride for a moment and let us get to the car so we can reach the detective before she gets to the scene before us; Yui, get on your motorcycle and use your time to message our handler about what we found out."


    "Ay, ay, captain." With the cell phone tightly grasped in their hand, Yui uses their supernatural speed to type all the information they need to rely on for their handler before reaching the girl on the front table.


    Now, in complete silence, both the remaining agents walk side by side to leave the police station, Colette holding her head down as she suppresses her instincts to argue and bask in a good fight, and Dalia, who sighs tiredly, remains partially drained by having to deal with all of this at this early hour.


    <hr>

 Day 2: -The Field Autopsy-

    Day 2


    On the Old Mill


    <hr>


    After a long drive, I managed to reach the scene, where I can already see the work Mel put through closing the area with the blue-and-white striped tape for my arrival; even if the chances of anyone from the city coming here to snoop around the crime scene are low, it still exists. Looking around, I only notice Mel''s patrol car parked near mine, but there are no traces of the agents arriving yet; maybe they are getting used to the city''s streets, and having me go before them was a terrible idea. I let out a sigh at the thought, choosing to let it to the side as I focus on another thing in my mind: those shadows.


    Did that really happen? I mean, there is no way that it didn''t, right? Sounds, smells, touch, everything felt so real; I guess the only way to be sure is if the scene was left as it were yesterday, as if I find that second-floor window broken or any glass shards on the ground, I will be sure of what I saw.


    I guess that is what scares me more, because in the moment that I confirm that what happened was real, how will I explain that to anyone else without sounding crazy? The risk of being told to take some days off and getting more steps behind the investigation is one I''m not willing to gamble on.


    Interrupting my thoughts are the sound and lights of both a motorcycle and an SUV nearing my car, ending the trail and reaching full view. Both vehicles roar one last time before coming to a full stop, parking some steps behind me on the path, and being turned off.


    Taking off their helmet, Yui is the first to show their face as they lose some time checking something on their phone, seemingly a message as I catch them typing something on the screen before resting it back on their pocket. From inside the SUV, Agent Dalia and Colette climb out with serious expressions, making me believe even more that something is going on with them that is very strange.


    As they all join up and spot me leaning against my car, the group of agents are quick to come closer to me. Ungluing my back from my car''s door, I straighten my overcoat and soften my expression to look welcoming, or at least the most I can achieve.


    "Hey, the scene is right and ready for us; should we-" I try asking, but my words seem to fail to reach agent Colette''s ears as she passes by me without acknowledging my existence in the slightest, and as she does so, I''m sure I hear her grunting some words to herself that I can''t quite get before they are out of reach. "Okay... I tried at least."


    I feel the warmth of a gentle hand falling on my shoulder, and turning to see who''s the owner of the soft touch, I''m met with a kind smile on Agent Dalia''s lips¡ªone that fits her face so well that it doesn''t seem to be hard strain her keeping it alive.


    "I''m sorry about her again, but take it as a good sign; she''s only like that when she''s serious about something." Her words serve to make me understand a little more about the frustrated woman, which helps me not care so much about how she acts. "Do you mind if, while we walk together, I ask you a few questions? You have all the right to not answer if you don''t want to, of course."


    "Uhm, yeah, sure; ask away." I gesture for us to start walking to the scene, and we do. She holds the tape for me so I can duck down, and I return the favor by waiting a moment longer to do the same for her and Agent Yui. As we all enter the crime scene, the promise of her questions begins to happen.


    "Why did you choose to join the police force?" She asks as we walk side by side, her tall figure contrasting against mine, which has me occasionally gazing up to look at her face as we talk.


    "Is it really that strange that I did?" I ask as her question sounds slightly strange to me, but knowingly, that is because I know of my own motives; she, on the other hand, doesn''t.


    "No, there is nothing strange with that; what I mean is, in a small city like this, there are surely plenty of other options that have you taking full advantage of the peace and quietness it can offer, away from the dangers; but choosing to work on the department, you placed yourself in a dangerous position of your own volition. And with a murder falling in your hands to solve, it surely isn''t something easy to deal with, yet you''re more focused than what I would''ve imagined."


    "Okay, that is actually good reasoning; I was asked the same three years ago."


    Her words take me back to a few days after the Parker''s incident. I remember how the sergeant forced me to take some days off to ''clear my head''; in the meantime that all was happening, Reele used to stop by the diner frequently.


    I was mopping around in my booth, looking beaten up like a dog in the rain, and two steps away from throwing myself in front of the next truck that crossed my way; he invited himself to sit with me and ordered some food for us; even when countless times I told him I was not hungry, he insisted. That time he asked me why I chose to do what I do; at first it was hard to answer, but after he guided me through the trauma the incident left on me for a whole year, the words that left my mouth were the same as now.


    "The people on the station, they are like a family to me; I can''t live without them even if I tried at this point. So I prefer to have the chance to be shot in the chest every morning I wake up than to live a life away from them."


    I''m suddenly stopped by Agent Dalia, who places herself in front of me with a smile so pure that it creates a strange feeling in me for a moment. "Those were beautiful words, detective; I''m happy to be working with someone like you on our team."


    "I..." The words are stolen from me for two reasons: one is obviously the look she gives me, making a hot red feeling claw its way to my face, threatening to make me blush, and the other, that kills this feeling completely; my face gazes away from the agent''s face, seeing the same fireplace, old painted wooden walls, and the broken window on the second floor.


    I don''t even notice when I walk past Agent Dalia, but I do, my feet moving on autopilot toward the center where everything happened yesterday.


    The tall trees sway around me as the wintry air passes them by. The birds fly away from the top of the sawmill as I notice a noxious smell permeate the air, coming from inside the building¡ªa smell I didn''t catch yesterday because it didn''t exist.


    I stop atop the exact place where one of the shadows was holding the gangly man down, seeing a spot of blood almost all dried on the dirt. As I''m about to search my pockets for something to gather the evidence, a voice calls me out of my focused state, making me turn around and step with my boot on one of the many shards of glass adorning this part.


    "Olivia." Astero, with hurried steps, leaves the inside of the sawmill and comes to stand beside me; he carries the smells of rotten corpse and freshly brewed coffee on his clothes, making me turn away from him for a second.


    "Ugh, what happened?" I swallow down the smell and feel that the lack of breakfast was good for me, as nothing climbs up from my stomach to make threats of escaping and painting the dirt. "And why are you smelling of death?"


    "That is what I came here to warn you about. There''s a corpse inside the building; it doesn''t seem like it was from too long ago as it didn''t fully start to decompose, so I was able to identify the person; it is Andrey Kolesov, the victim''s father." He says with a face that tells me already how bad the situation inside is, so I start to prepare myself mentally for the scene that awaits me. "Is this evidence?"


    He asks, pointing to the spot of blood on the ground. I nod in response, gesturing for him to put his evidence-gathering kit down to get it. "I believe so; it is best to be sure than to leave it and later learn it was important."


    "Good call; I had suspected about the broken grass on the ground but thought it was caused by the rock on the second floor." He takes a cotton swab and gathers the evidence, dropping the item on a plastic bag and sealing it so no outside source contaminates the blood further. "You think this blood belongs to who? The victim or the killer?"


    It angers me so much not being able to tell him; even as this confirms that the shadows were real, I still need more than blood and glass to be able to open my mouth confidently. "I would say neither of them; it is easier to assume it may be from one of the teens that might have come to snoop around and hurt themselves on the glass." I try creating a believable lie, one that is close enough to something that would happen so there''s no suspicion. "If it turns out to be from the killer, that will make everything easier."


    Astero nods his head, getting back to his feet and prompting me to look at his hands as he gestures inside. "The moment I get the lab results back from the hospital, I''ll message you. I''ll call some contacts of mine to see if I can get them to speed up."


    "Are they still giving you a headache?" I ask, knowing that the only hospital near the city is kilometers away from the main road, almost on another city; they usually are the ones to receive our evidence for analysis, but lately, they''ve been a real pain in the ass, taking up to a week to even start processing the things we send them¡ªsomething that cost us some cases in return. "You know I can always have a ''talk'' with their staff if things get worse."


    "I know, but I still prefer to try talking with them first; I know now all of them are responsible. Some are just following orders from their superiors. In any way, I''ll wait for you to be done so we can pack the man up. In the meantime, I''ll go entertain Melissa before she gets bored and leaves the scene."


    "Thank you." I place my hand on his shoulder, patting it, and watch as he nods his head before walking to the tape, where I spot Mel talking with Officer Lee. With only one thing to do, I turn to address Agent Dalia, but find no one else near me; neither she nor Agent Yui are nearby, so assuming that they entered the building, I go and do the same to find them.


    In another part of the forest, hiding atop a tree.


    A man stands atop a strong branch far away, watching with his enhanced gaze the whole scene unfold beneath with dry blood stuck to his sharp fangs like food stuck on someone''s teeth. He uses his tongue to clean the remnant blood of his last victim off his lips before spitting it down in disgust.


    "Damn rats, why can''t everyone taste as delicious as sweet Melinda? It is that unlikely that anyone in this city possesses a suitable blood type?"


    As the man grumbles to the wind about the taste lingering in his mouth, the same taste that almost manages to rid him of the hunger that plagues his stomach at every move he breathes, he lets out a deep groan. It doesn''t help that if he wishes to keep using his abilities, he needs to constantly ''feed the monster''; at least those are the words from the one who made him who he is now: a creature of the night, a man without his humanity, corrupted by someone else''s desire; a vampire.


    "So many little creatures are here for that poor excuse of a man; if it were me down there, I''m sure no one would have batted an eye; at least the gift I left can be enjoyed by these creatures fully before I-"


    His words stop midway through his dry vocal cords, causing them to string in an excited hiss as a scent unlike any other those he saw on the streets exhale, one very close to the sweetness that the daughter of Andrey had; the blood pumping on the holder of the scent is so strong that he can hear their heart accelerate in doubt and fear, creating an angelic reverberate of anxiety that entices his instincts to hunt a good prey, to have a good meal in his hand''s grasp to ripe and take to his own thirsty until he feels, for once, satisfied.


    "Well, oh well, it seems there''s a last worthy test subject around here." The sharp eyes of the man, devoid of any color they once had, lock on the woman''s long, curly hair as she is called by a man; her name reaches his sensitive ears as if fate itself decided to put her in a silver tray to the taking. "Dear Olivia, so that is who you are, my muse."


    As he utters the woman''s name, his lips wet themselves with the saliva rapidly gathering beneath his tongue, akin to a kid who awaits the chance to taste one of their favorite candies in an attempt to cleanse their palate of a bad meal.


    The man, after being seduced to the extremes, quickly becomes tired of just watching the scene unfold without any actions of his own, so without thinking further, he decides to give in to his newfound interest alongside the replenishment of his energies to get as close as he can to the mill in high hopes of waiting for the perfect time to disappear with the woman, like the light stealing the darkness away from those who wish to see, but in his case, the words ''stealing an angel from heaven to his own corrupted desires'' make more sense.


    Back inside the old mill


    Taking my first step to the familiar weak, rotten wooden floor of the mill, the atrocious smell that I was able to get a hold of from outside grows thicker, almost like a thing of its own, nauseatingly sickening my stomach to the point it moves to hide itself from it.


    My hand travels to my mouth, where, with the fear of throwing up, I keep it close tight to avoid letting anything leave. I spot the agents all rounded up on the doorway leading to the stage where the bands make their show, so I do the same, as freezing in time won''t help solve anything.


    Moving to the encounter with the door, Agent Dalia, who gets to see what''s inside first, moves soon after on the edge of my vision, seemingly to warn me of the sight that I''m about to experience; unfortunately, she''s not able to do so before my eyes focus on the pieces and bits of what once was a human being.


    A body, parted apart from its original form, is decorated like a statue in an artistic pose, holding a small flower in its fingerless hand; the arms, legs, and torso are all connected by wires that hold the pieces together, like flayed tendons, exposed to eyes that never should have to have to try seeking further reasoning to what happened to it. The man''s clothes were stripped of his body, leaving him naked and devoid of any genitalia; it was cut, that is clear as day.


    My legs start to shake, as the more I look at the scene in front of me, the more I understand that I was not trained for this: normal robberies, people who are drunk and seek fights in the streets, drug addicts naked in the forest¡ªthat is where most of my experience blooms, but this, this is hell.


    I feel like my sanity took a toll so greedy that it affects my ability to balance. My feet stumble to the side where I enter the direct route to hit a wood pillar, but before that happens, a gentle hand catches me, allowing me to take a deep breath as she pushes my gaze away from the scene.


    "Detective, are you okay?" She asks first, entering my view and pulling my chin so my eyes can''t leave hers. "Please take a deep breath; I know the scene is atrocious, but you must calm down before you hyperventilate."


    It isn''t easy at first; the man''s mangled face burns its imprint in my retina so strongly that even not looking at it anymore, I can see in all details still; but then, as it starts to lessen, Agent Dalia''s face takes its place, with her truly worried eyes and her lips that contort into a strained smile, trying her best to put me back in place, like when you step on your dog''s tail and start to try everything to make it feel better.


    My breathing gets back to the normal rate, and my head starts to work with all it has on creating a protection mechanism to allow me the ability to keep working, making sure to use all the adaptability a human mind has to make so the next time I look at it, the same scene doesn''t put me in the same state.


    Seeing that I''m mostly fine now, Agent Dalia lets go of my chin and puts her hands on my shoulder. "Are you feeling better now, Detective?"


    "Yeah, I- I''m feeling a little better; the scene just got me for a little second, but I''ll be fine; you don''t need to worry about me; but thanks for doing so."


    "That''s good; please allow us to deal with the body then; we will make sure that not a single clue will escape us." She turns to the other two agents, seeing Agent Colette, detached from any unnecessary feelings, climbing the stairs to the stage and approaching the body. "I would request of you to take a breath outside, but if you wish to help by searching around for any clue, you can; I''ll accompany you."


    "I have a place I want to check, so I''ll leave the body for your team; you can come with me if you want," I say, half hoping she does, as I don''t want to walk outside to call Mel so she accompanies me; if she saw this scene, I''m sure she wouldn''t eat for a week.


    "I''ll gladly be by your side." The woman responds promptly, using her hand, which still holds my shoulder, to point me to the doorway leading to the entrance area. "Where is the place you want to check out?"


    "The second floor, I think there might be something there."


    "Is your gut telling you there might be something there, or is it something else?" Her questions come as strange for a moment until I look at her face and see her studying me, like she wants to see how I operate, so I take it as her being curious to learn more, and so I proceed to promptly lie about it.


    "Gut feeling, that is what it is." I saw, clearly not wanting to talk more about it; I find some strength in me to climb the stairs a little faster than her, so there''s no time for her to find anything in my awkwardness.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Upon reaching the second floor, I see the various broken wooden chairs that used to be the place where the people who worked here got to eat in peace, still having a vision to the floor below by a balcony part that I avoid at all costs to not see the body again. To my left is an open corridor that leads to the bathroom area. The floor is painted with glass shards in one part but not in the other, which makes sense seeing that one of them someone was thrown from, so most of the glass is on the outside, and the other is where the rock hit, the same palm-sized rock I see lying in the middle of it.


    Walking the empty corridor, both mine and Dalia''s steps echo through the hall as the only sound that takes the place; both agents downstairs are as quiet as a grave; my feet stop as I take notice of something sticking from beneath the rock; Agent Dalia stops as well when I do, looking at me curiously as I point with my head to the rock.


    "You see that little thing right there?" I ask, squatting down, my hands grasp the rock''s tough texture and push it to the side, freeing the hidden item and bringing it to full view; touching the thing is enough to tell me what it is, but the design is the nail in the coffin. "I believe I found us a clue."


    "Is that a coaster?" She asks back, joining my side to be able to see it better, noticing that it is exactly what she thought. "The design in it is very... unique, I see; do you know where it might belong to?"


    The design she points out is of a goat skull surrounded by bike chains; no name adorns any part of the item, which is unusual but understandable, as in this city, there''s only one bar that is unique and favorited by outsiders and familiar faces alike: the Two Horned Betsy, a reference to the owner''s custom-made motorcycle.


    "Yes, I know exactly from which part of this city this came from." Feeling the coaster in my fingers, what was once a hard material stands somewhere between both worlds; it hasn''t fully dried, like someone wet the thing while having a hard night; from the smell of it, it surely is Lindsay''s famous Margarita. "This can''t belong to any of the teens that party here because Brutus has strict rules about age when it comes to drinking in his bar, and the thing feels a little mushy still, so it needs to be from yesterday night."


    "So that gives a location to investigate and people to ask questions; not bad detective." The woman''s smile helps ease some of the strain on my face that the whole situation brings to me unconsciously; she rises to her feet, and as I''m about to do the same, she offers me her hand, a helpful gesture that I''m quick to take.


    Once both of us are on our feet, she turns her head to the far side of the corridor, being the part leading downstairs; on her face, she seems to think a lot of things for a single second before stopping to look at me. "What is your plan now? Do you believe that the bar is open at this hour so we can make a visit?"


    "Yeah, it sure is; Brutus Bar is not just a regular bar but actually his house as well. It''s kind of complicated to explain, but there''s a whole bedroom area where some years ago he used to house his old gang."


    "This city sure has some interesting stories; I''m glad I can learn some of them with you; it is sometimes easy to forget that there''s a whole world out there, you know?"


    "Your agency doesn''t usually send your team out of town, do they? I mean, I know how it feels; this small dot on a map that we call a city is all I''ve ever known my whole life¡ªthe feeling of looking through a telescope, focused so much on a single spot of light in the sky when there''s a whole sea of stars to discover."


    Flabbergasted, the woman turns to face me; her gray eyes that only now I really stopped to notice shine with life. "Wow; yes, you described perfectly what I meant. You''re sure full of surprises, Detective; not only are you being of great help to us by lending us your knowledge of the city, but you are easy to talk to; that is something I can appreciate greatly."


    "I should be the one thanking you for, you know, helping me calm down and keeping me company; but I''ll stop talking now, or else I''ll enter a loop of saying the same thing over and over." My eyes travel to the half-open door of the first floor, something that reminds me of the job I have to do; with my part done, maybe calling Astero and the officers in to scrape the rest of the evidence as well as the body for analysis is the next step. "I''ll go outside and call our technician in to start packing the scene, but you and your team can take your time to see if you find anything new. Oh, and whenever you want to learn more about the cool places in the city, I''m up to show them to you. And your team, of course." I make sure to add the last part, something I almost forget to do.


    "Oh, sure, that sounds delightful; we will meet you outside in a bit." She answers, smiling gently at me, and then we both climb down the stairs and part ways; one thing that doesn''t leave me is how strange this all feels.


    Two murders in two days in a city where the last one was before I was born, a set of federal agents lending their help to us; it is all too dreamy, like the settings of my world were altered suddenly, without notice. I believe this change will last for a while, so the best I can do is brace myself for the impact that it will surely bring.


    One last thing I do before getting out of the door is check the bullet cases¡ªthe whole evidence I had to bring everyone here; looking at it, I can see one of the paper markers Astero makes on his lab with post-its to mark the items for pickup; my eyes gaze at the back part of the case, which informs me of the caliber used: .38; a revolver''s caliber.


    Once more, my head tells me not to touch it so as not to contaminate it with my prints, so I leave it there for Astero to pick it up and later give me the information he extracts from it.


    Inside the building, near the stage.


    Dalia walks towards the other two agents who quietly seem to finish their evaluation of the situation; Colette has her back to the nearest wall, arms crossed tightly around her chest and feet strongly planted on the ground; in her state, not even a bullet passing by her face, scratching her skin, would be able to make her trip.


    Yui, on the other hand, looks deeply troubled at the body before their sensitive ears pick on the return of Dalia, twitching as they always do before their head turns to face her, holding a devilish grin on their pale lips.


    "Finally, you''re back from your little adventure with the detective; just so you know, I could hear you two talking on the stairs; kinda cute, actually, the whole vanilla ''sharing feelings in common'' conversation." Their comment comes with an exposition of their sharp fangs in plain view, eagerly ready to test taste anyone who slightly gives them the chance. "I would be more on the offensive though; it generally gets me what I want faster; maybe I should try that with her; don''t you think so too, Lia?"


    "Really? Will we need to have the same discourse as last time?" Dalia asks, bringing in the fact this isn''t the first time Yui acts like this¡ªinterrupting, or even worse, putting their little escapades in the way of the work¡ªin the process, derailing the whole operation for their own pleasure. "The fact you don''t drink blood directly from the source, harming people in the process, is good of you, but you still view humans as food in your own lustful way; that isn''t good for anyone. Don''t you care how your partners will feel when they wake up in the morning to see an empty space in their beds?"


    Offended, Yui raises their hands in protest and frowns deeply. "Hey! Everyone I sleep with knows I''m not going to stay to cook them breakfast in the morning, to cuddle buddy them, or whatever; you better than anyone should know that; I''ll remind you of your own words: ''Relationships on this line of work are dangerous; we are always moving from place to place, so it''s best for us to not get emotionally attached.''; isn''t it right?"


    "First, this was two hundred years ago, and secondly, what makes you think I want anything with the detective? We just met her an hour ago, for god''s sake." Dalia too defends herself, bringing her own points to the conversation; the same points Yui brushes away with a mocking sigh.


    "You know what, whatever; there isn''t any fun anyway in discussing something if you''ll always have the same boring reaction; just keep in mind that if I feel like shooting my shot, I''ll do it." As Dalia prepares herself to talk back, the opportunity is stolen away; Yui starts to gesture towards the body as their mouth opens, clearly with the intention to talk work. "The body is dry as a cheap whore, just in this case, dry of blood; we don''t know where it has gone, but the guy we are after surely stored it for later, or maybe he drank all, but that would mean he''s blood drunk somewhere around the city. Besides that, there isn''t anything here to investigate; we could send some skin to the agency so JB could get us some results faster than the detective''s poorly equipped station, but their lab freak will surely notice it; that''s why I didn''t do it."


    "That''s good; we know now that he shares the same tendencies as the one who turned him¡ªthe human statue, the seasonal flower in hand¡ªthe only thing missing here is why the first victim was not in the same state as this one-"


    "Shut up." Colette, ungluing her back from the wall, orders as she starts to sniff the air after apparently catching an interesting scent; her face contorts into an animalistic growl the more she smells.


    Yui childishly crosses their arms and pouts. "No need to be rude, geez."


    "Yui, stop and let her work." Dalia interrupts their words by placing her hand on their mouth, stopping the river of unnecessary taunts from flowing out more.


    After a good thirty seconds, Colette looks at the door leading outside and sterns her expression further. "The man''s blood is near; I can sense it moving outside, getting closer to us."


    At the end of her words, the mill''s door is pushed open, and the officers, as well as Astero, walk inside the building, forcing the agents to steady their expressions and start to whisper to not bring unwanted attention to themselves.


    "Outside? Are you sure?" Dalia asks, almost touching shoulders with Colette; in response, the woman nods her head, sure of what she tracked. "Okay, we are going outside; don''t act without thinking. We don''t want anyone to discover what we are today."


    The agents end their conversation and start to calmly walk past the officers passing by them, readying themselves for anything that can happen outside.


    On the outside


    I stand near a tree as Astero and his small, makeshift team, like one single, sentient mass thing, enter the mill with the only thing in their heads being to complete their work and go back home, or at least that is what their clearly unhappy faces tell me; it goes to show how even they, who, unlike me, were in a way trained for extreme situations with unusual deaths, just want to end this as soon as possible; the lack of real situations like this one plays a great factor in that.


    My back instinctively seeks rest against a tree as, for once, being able to take a real deep breath reveals how drained I became with the whole thing, as one would expect; after all, seeing a body in that state is not like TV shows tell us; it messes with you on a very deep level.


    The rough and kind of scaly texture of the tree keeps me aware to not put all my weight against it so I won''t tear my lucky hoodie, because that would mean having to sew it back at home and lose all my night doing so to get a poor result.


    My eyes wander around as slowly, but surely, a creepy feeling forcefully climbs my spine, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on the edge; the feeling takes a moment to be fully recognized by my brain, but when it does, the message is clear: I''m being watched. Crossing my arms against my chest defensively, I gaze around in a quick motion, finding the three agents coming in my direction, the reason for the whole feeling; feeling dumb for letting my paranoia get the best of me, I sigh tiredly and adjust my clothes to rid them of any wrinkles.


    "Oh, hey guys; did you all finish the work? Did you manage to find any clues on the body?" I raise a hand to more or less the middle of my torso and address them closer, seeing a strange set of looks on their faces; Agent Dalia, as before, smiles at me and approaches without any fear, as the other two seem to communicate between themselves in a low tone, pointing their fingers to the top of the tree I''m resting against and locking their eyes there.


    I tilt my head curiously, ready to direct my eyes to the same place they are looking, but am interrupted before I can by words reaching my ear.


    "We did not find much; the only strange thing that I think is worth talking about is the fact the body seemed dried of blood, but seeing that the killer put the body back together after clearly having spent some time to separate the parts, it is easy to assume the victim bled all out in the process." Agent Dalia comments, tracing a story that would make a lot of sense, but the few pieces we have don''t lock together enough to give it enough context to fully tell a story.


    "How can a man''s worth of blood disappear just like that? I''m sure no one would keep a bucket of blood in their garage, so they would have to dump it somewhere; as cleaning that amount from wood planks is just impossible without letting any remains, and I don''t know about your team, but I didn''t see any or smell either that or cleaning products inside, the only other option left would be the forest. But once more, that amount of blood would attract animals, and on the way here we didn''t see anything." With a heavy sigh, I count the few options we have available for us and find that, once more, waiting is the only one that can bring true results. "We will have to rely on the runners; if they see anything strange while jogging around here, we will get a call on the station."


    I, out of practiced reflex, trace my eyes to an object being thrown out toward some trees in the distance; tracing the path back, I am quick enough to catch Agent Yui coming out of a throwing pose; they seem to catch my stare and put an embarrassed grin on their face before making the seemingly conscious decision to frown defensively.


    "What? Can''t someone be bored out of their minds?" Placing their hands on their unshaped hips, hidden beneath the flannel shirt, the agent takes a step closer to join the conversation. "Look, I respect whatever this overthinking of you two is, but we already have a location to go, no? So let''s go already."


    As a response, I nod my head, something that the agent themselves didn''t expect by the way their eyes widen in surprise; their being bored with the horrible situation is something that does not just go past me, but I leave it for now as it doesn''t matter.


    "You''re right, we will surely have time to place everything together once we clear the current chain of events, so there isn''t a reason to be discussing any of this now."


    "Okay, it feels very nice for someone to not tell me to shut up or just brush off my words completely; I''m starting to realize you two are very bad influences on my self-esteem; now I don''t even know how to react." Pouting, the agent turns their head to the other two, shifting from one to another, but ends up being ignored by both, showing that their words are more than just a mindless rant about something that irritates them.


    "If we''ve already made a decision, let''s proceed at once." Agent Colette talks, her deep voice still managing to sound strange to my ears, but that makes sense seeing that this should be what? The second or third time she talks in my presence.


    By the way she acts, it doesn''t come as a surprise when she simply starts walking away without getting confirmation from anyone, which forces us to follow right behind to everyone''s own parked vehicles.


    The last minutes before we leave the old mill area play out as a slowed movie scene; Agent Yui walks towards their motorcycle, almost jumping at the retrospect of returning to their old friend; there''s a certain smile on their face that differs from the ones I saw until now; it feels, almost, like something genuine, perhaps it is, but unfortunately, that smile is quickly washed away from view as they slide in their helmet, so I can''t tell. Before completely taking away, they gaze at the forest, their eyes hidden, so I can''t tell exactly the direction they look, but once satisfied, the roar of the motorcycle heart''s pumping fuel leads to the start of their drive away.


    Agent Dalia and Agent Colette lean against the SUV together, entering what seems to be an important discussion where both gesture strongly with their hands, allowing emotions that surely should only be seen by them to be exposed to prying eyes.


    There''s a moment where I linger my hand on my car''s open door, observing like an outsider the private show roll on; it doesn''t last long though, as when it hits me that maybe I should not be doing what I am, I enter my car fully, closing the door with enough force to shake the inside of the vehicle, something that, if not done, can mean not closing the old door. My weight presses against the space in the leather seat where it has retained a print of my existence in dried spots with blood from times I hurt myself while on patrol to little broken pieces of various things that me and Mel ate on this car in its lifetime.


    The heavy, exhausted sigh I''ve been holding since yesterday leaves me as I twist the key and rev up the old, beaten engine to life once more; the dirt road behind me shows itself as the only path, the only option, akin to how this whole thing feels like; before I can spiral myself anymore, I sink my feet on the accelerator and follow right behind the track of Agent Yui''s motorcycle, and in the process, I notice that it takes some more seconds, but eventually, the SUV comes to life and stays right behind my car.


    <hr>

 Day 2: -Instrument of Surrender-

    Day 2


    <hr>


    On the whole drive to the Two Horned Betsy, I''m accompanied by the music on the radio; impressively, today most of them were good ones, being mostly composed of calm and pop songs instead of those bad country music that play out more times on the radio than necessary, and in the process, sinking the poorly written lyrics in my head about bad romances and farms.


    Once I make sure the car is parked in the right spot, I turn off the engine and turn my eyes to the building I know so much; I see the same dark-colored walls that give out the therapeutic smell of good mixed drinks and drowned sorrows.


    The main star, of course, stands where she always does, untouched by time, rain, or anything that can pose a threat to it: The Great Betsy. In the process of looking, I climb out of my car and gaze at the SUV parking behind me; both agents take their time readying themselves for one more step of the investigation as I move towards an interesting scene, kind of expected from what I was able to learn until now about Agent Yui; them, holding their helmet under one arm, stare with their mouth hanging open in awe to Betsy, admiring every piece of, probably illegal, modifications and decorative bits, like the real goat horns adorning its body, which would be enough for the station to arrest Brutus for, but we don''t, because of two things: First, he doesn''t ride anymore, so it''s fine, I guess; and second, never mess with the man who pours the drinks, never.


    "Modified engine, different brand parts, custom headlights, a plate flipper; this is a piece of work from the gods." Agent Yui mumbles to themselves a little too loud as they have a hard time not drooling all over it; their hands, almost hypnotized, hover above Betsy, never really touching her, like worshipping a goddess. "Okay, I have to admit to myself; I''m almost jealous of this baby."


    "I wouldn''t recommend touching her; Brutus can be a very jealous and protective lover," I warn the agent as I stop to stand beside them, looking at Betsy and appreciating her design as well; even if not fully understanding the modifications, as I''m not a huge fan of bikes, the badass look it has is universal. "The last person who touched her mysteriously broke all the fingers of their right hand on the same night."


    "Oh, it should have been so worth it; I would love to get my fingers broken if just to have a chance to feel her engine against the tip of my fingers." They stay a moment too quiet, almost making me strange the way they get so fixated on Betsy before they turn to me with a grin, showing that they are just exaggerating. "Unfortunately, I need all my fingers for the work; the curses of being employed." A pout takes over their lips, managing to drag a single laugh out of me because of how they are acting.


    I turn my head to search for the other two agents, seeing them waving us closer to the bar''s entrance, and when I look back at Agent Yui, they stop laughing out of nowhere and steel-focus their gaze on the distance.


    "Uh, something happened? You went quiet all of a sudden," I ask, trying to understand what it is they are looking at, seeing that something on the wooden street pole beside the bar is where their focus stays.


    "You see that old-ass camera right there, near the cables?" As they point it out, I finally see it¡ªa very square and old-looking security camera that I never noticed before on the countless times I came here, probably because all the times I did it was late at night after writing reports all day. "You think that thing still works somehow?"


    "I don''t know, the camera isn''t owned by the city; I''m sure of that because if it was, that would have been something of great help many times before; my best guess is that it might actually be something Brutus himself installed to keep record if anyone tried to steal anything from the bar. You can check it if you want; I''m sure he wouldn''t mind if it is for the investigation; I just don''t know how you would be able to access it."


    "Actually, that''s the easy part; there''s a metal box right on there, at the bottom." They point out, and sure enough, there is a metal box securing what probably is the storage part of the surveillance system; it is too distant to tell, but it doesn''t seem locked at least. "I''ll check it out and see if I can get anything, but that might take a while considering it might be running on a full hard drive."


    "You want me to grab the others and go with you? We could keep you company while you try accessing it; we have time still before we¡ªwell, I have to get back to the station and write the report for the day." My comments come with a bad taste in my mouth, coating my tongue with the taste of a mountain of paper and the guarantee of bad wrist pain.


    "Ow, that''s very nice of you to think; but no need, cutie, I''ll be fine out here. Now go with them before Lia gets the idea I stole you all for myself." They say, winking at me with a playful grin, before pulling a phone cable from the pocket of their flannel shirt and starting their stride towards the metal box.


    There''s a moment where all I can do is blink as the words down on me, not even managing to get a proper human reaction from me, something that just highlights how not used to these interactions I am; sure, I flirted before, but I never had people wanting to flirt back to me. That is exactly why I have no relationships; I just can''t handle all the dates, outings, and attention it requires while balancing a professional life in such a complicated work area.


    Pushing the thought aside, I think about the recordings; the idea of getting them from the camera to see if it has anything that can help us with the case is a very smart one; it can get us a time when the victim met the killer, a vehicle that they could have used to move to another location, and a face for the faceless photo on the man''s half-done profile in my desk.


    Knowing that I can only do my part now, I adjust the sleeve of the hoodie to half my forearm, slide down the zipper so it is open to my chest, and finally, I find a scrunchie on my jeans pocket and tie my hair down into a messy curl of a ponytail; with that done, I press the sole of my boot against the concrete floor and walk to my objective.


    Nearing the door of the bar, that same smell from before still catches me, but now more mixed with the scent of stale Whisky and recently burned cigarettes. When I look at both agents, Dalia seems to wait for me to welcome them inside as Colette is forced into patience by the woman''s right hand tightly pressed against her shoulder.


    "Well, let''s do this; just a warning before anything. Brutus can seem like a very complicated person at first, but if you get past his frown, you''ll see he is a softie just like a cartoon princess; kind of like when you name your dog Destroyer and it is one of the most docile Pitbull that ever crossed earth."


    "We will keep this in mind; thank you for warning us of that beforehand." Lips contorted into a soft smile, hands losing their grip on the shoulder of the other agent, which is enough of an opening for her to free herself and quickly step back to avoid the same fate twice; for that, Agent Dalia shows no reaction and instead seems to choose to focus on me and the lack of a certain someone on my side. "Wasn''t Yui with you just a moment ago? Where did they go?"


    "Oh, yeah, I almost forgot; they had a good idea of checking to see if the camera on the bar''s alley is still working so we can maybe get something out of the recordings; for now they asked us to check the bar because it might take a while to do so."


    "That is, in actuality, a very good idea; all we can hope for then is a result where they manage to obtain us a good part of the puzzle parts so we can start to assemble a picture later." Her comments come with a gesture for me towards the door, and with a good grip on the handle, I push open the creaked, wooden door, earning a cry from its dry hinges as it opens.


    Once stepping inside, the low, yellowed lights of the bar create an atmosphere of its own that makes anyone feel at home; it births an ecosystem separated from the cloudy, gray world outside; the wintry air that accompanies us as we make ourselves welcome inside the bar quickly dissipates into the nice, cozy warmth of the place.


    To our right, near the wall, lies the famous ATM machine, the one that makes sure that even if your money goes down the drain, you can get more; it saved many people''s faces from a beating because they didn''t accompany how much money they were spending in the night, but that becomes part of the background as we take the way to the left, avoiding getting into the tight corridor of the booth area and instead following towards the three-step staircase that allows us the view of the bar counter and more.


    On the far left, straight from the old jukebox, the soft tune of a piano plays, involving the ambiance in its carefully written notes, which, at this point, has been played so many times that it became sort of the theme song for the bar¡ªat least in my head.


    Behind the counter, wearing a bored expression as she polishes the glass cups for the opening hours, stands Lindsay, more known as Brutus''s daughter; she wears the same outfit I generally see her in, being a white shirt, gray vast, black trousers¡ªall that composes her bartender uniform. Even if this bar is a far cry from anything truly professional, she manages to make it feel less wild.


    She notices us as we start approaching her; specifically, her eyes fall on my face, shining with recognition instantly; her hands come to stop on her neck-length black hair as she adjusts a loose strand of it behind her ear, tucking it away from her face as she prepares herself with a less strained smile; but before we can reach her, a tall, monolith of a figure interjects in our path midway.


    Agent Colette is the first to react, moving herself a step forward as she squints her eyes at the figure, keeping herself in between the figure and Agent Dalia; both of them start a staring contest that quickly gives the vibe that won''t stop until someone says something, and that is when Agent Dalia steps to the side of the woman to manage the situation herself.


    "Hello sir, would you perhaps be Mister Brutus, the establishment''s owner?" She asks, adopting a posture that reflects the complete opposite of Agent Colette, who keeps staring at Brutus with a feral growl forming in the midst of her throat.


    Brutus nods his head, bending closer to look at them both more closely; his long, unkept, gray hair, tied up with a red bandana atop his head, sways around as he does so. "Yes, I am. I''m sure you two aren''t from around here; city folks, right? So what is it that you want?" He asks with a deep, raspier tone, one that manages to put anyone on their toes.


    "Dad, stop for a moment and please put your glasses on; you''re embarrassing us both this way," Lindsay screams from the bar as she slaps her hands against the counter loudly, grabbing the man''s attention and compelling him to do so; her crossed arms soon give up as she wipes the embarrassment off her face.


    The small, librarian-like glasses he puts on are enough to make his sleeveless biker jacket, various tattoos along his left arm, and the whole intimidating expression become less unnerving to both agents; I only keep quiet as I learned that it is best for people to see by themselves what I meant by him being a softie inside instead of having to explain every time. His expression subsides as he no longer needs to force his eyes to make the faces of both agents, now being more friendly-looking, but more yet is when he turns his head to see the third group member and finds me with a smile on my face.


    "Olivia!" The middle-aged man walks towards me, completely forgetting the existence of both agents for the moment before doing the expected, embracing me strongly enough to make my spine no longer need a chiropractor and lifting me easily off the floor. "How have you been? You haven''t been down here in a week; also, I heard you got Reele''s position as a detective; I feared I wouldn''t be able to congratulate you."


    "Yeah, I had a long week; lots of papers to sign, many things from Reele''s office to pack, and processing all the changes, but I''m here now; unfortunately, it isn''t off duty." Hearing my words, Brutus finishes hugging me and carefully places me back on my feet, heaving his big hand on my shoulder as he gets serious.


    "I imagine things must be tough for you, in truth, I was already expecting the moment you would walk through that door; that poor tourist girl, it is a real shame what happened to her." For a moment his hand leaves my shoulder, which my muscles thank God for because the strength of this guy is something else; his focus becomes locked somewhere else. "Pumpkin, can you go unpack the boxes in the kitchen for me? I''ll need the counter to talk with them." It is unlike him to get this serious; generally, he floats between a big teddy bear and a very intimidating biker; his words reach Lindsay, who sighs and nods her head.


    "Sure, I''ll take care of the boxes, but that will cost you ten bucks that don''t think we won''t discuss later." Without any more to add, the girl waves me goodbye and makes her exit towards the door behind the counter to give us the space, disappearing as it closes up.


    "Come on; you can ask your questions while you introduce me to your friends,"


    He gestures towards the bar before starting to walk to get behind it, and once he does, with some difficulty getting his not-exactly-fit body past the small waist-height, swinging door, he takes his place of right, having lights shining from behind him like a holy figure, coming from the drinks showcase that displays some very expensive stuff that he got somehow but never told me about in the million times I asked; the familiar TV hanging from the ceiling that keeps the quiet ambiance filled with life as it plays a lighthearted cartoon from the nineties is soon muted as Brutus reach for the controller hidden behind the counter, giving us the space to talk without any interruptions; something very nice of him to do.


    "I can prepare some drinks if any of you want, but if not, I have some juice as well. Of course, it will all be in the house; Olivia''s friends are always welcome here."


    "Hey, when did I get so much of your respect? To what I remember, I didn''t do anything to deserve those words." I ask, confusion painting my face as the reason for such words miss me completely; and even when I try to pull something from my memory, it still fails.


    "Don''t be so humble, Olivia; but if I must remind you, you''re the reason why Lindsay didn''t get herself into a dumb accident or stay in jail when she decided that drinking before closing time and driving her friend home was a good idea."


    His words remind me promptly of the story; Lindsay had just turned twenty; that was last year, and she decided to take a day off bartending and left Brutus to do so while she enjoyed a couple of drinks with a friend; later that night, she was driving her friend home, both completely wasted, and I was on patrol. By luck, I saw on her face what was happening while she passed the red light and stopped them immediately. I had to get both to the station but managed to get Ed to not keep them there for long. So I called Brutus, and he picked her up, as I did the job of getting her friend back to their house; that''s the story.


    "And there''s another reason; if it wasn''t for you, my best income source would have never come through those doors; your sister really should not come here as often as she does."


    "I can kind of relate to her; the job sometimes can be stressful, and a good drink or two helps ease it down a bit, but if we talk about her, we might spend the rest of the day doing it, so to get back to the issue in hand, these two are Agent Dalia and Agent Colette; they work for a federal agency that got word of the girl''s murder and decided to lend us a hand to proceed with the investigation. I think that is a good rundown of things, right?"


    I turn to Dalia, asking my question to open the possibility for her to add anything I may have missed; when my eyes fall on her, I can see she decided to stay on her feet instead of sitting on one of the stools; she, in response, nods her head and smiles, apparently satisfied with my sum up.


    "Every time the city tried to put a hand on our issues, things didn''t end up better than they were before; you can say it is a curse of ours, but this is just how things are." Placing three glass cups atop the counter, Brutus interrupts Dalia both with his voice and the sound of the items as she is about to open her mouth to talk, making sure to let his opinion be known before we proceed; he looks down at the cups soon after and sighs, pushing away the negative thoughts permeating his head. "I''m sorry for the harsh words; I just hope that truly, the intentions you carry are well intended; this place and its folks already saw too much of their shares of problems."


    There''s a good moment of silence where no one dares to talk, so instead everyone breathes out quietly as, I assume, the words catch the agents off guard; hell, even I get caught off guard by his sudden pessimism; but even so, Dalia''s smile doesn''t falter and instead seems to grow softer after.


    "Yes, that was a good summary, detective; I know that our sudden offer might raise a question regarding our motives, but I can assure you, Mister Brutus, that we only intend to help this city, just like Detective Rivers." Out of nowhere, the chain of interruptions to Dalia''s words replay as a muffled vibration starts to ring from her trousers; she raises her finger to ask for a moment and pulls out her phone; she looks at the bright, flashing screen before sighing. "I''m sorry, you''ll have to excuse me; I can''t leave this call for later, unfortunately. Do attempt to keep your temper in line."


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The last part of her words is a whisper towards Colette, who sits quietly on one stool of distance from me, her eyes serious and seemingly unfocused, but she responds in the end with a lazy thumbs up, which gives Dalia the opening she needs to rush outside to take the call before she can''t anymore.


    With the agent gone, I take it upon myself to formulate the questions and place myself forward on the stool, resting my hands on the counter as I fidget with my fingernails.


    "Brutus, the girl, by any chance, did you see her around here the day before yesterday? If not, maybe you saw a man come for a few drinks; uhm, he was like..." I stop for a moment, seeking inside my brain the image I saw of the victim''s father in Astero''s computer when he accessed the webpage of Biotech.


    "Squared face, well-maintained mustache, dark hair and eyes, a fair complexion, strongly built; and he probably came around in his business suit, so he sure was easy to spot between the regulars." One thing that I didn''t expect to happen. Colette, who stayed quiet this whole time, describes the man perfectly, striking my memory at the exact time I get near remembering myself; her hand comes to a stop atop one of the glass cups Brutus placed on the counter, and her fingertip taps against its body as if asking for the offered drink. "I''ll have whiskey on the rocks."


    The good, well-detailed description is enough to do the same thing it did to my memory, but to Brutus, as, clear as day, he rocks his body back and forth in a constant motion while working up his brain.


    "About the girl coming here, I can''t be so sure; it''s not every hour I''m at the bar making drinks; I can ask Lindsay if she saw the girl, as she probably came here when I was in the kitchen working on the orders; but the man you described, he actually came here yesterday an hour before seven for a couple of drinks. We didn''t engage in any conversation; he didn''t look like he wanted company or be disturbed by the way he stayed on his stool like a scared dog, looking pretty roughened up; after he swallowed his drinks, he paid all in live cash, and then he left without saying anything to anyone."


    Huh? Strange, if he was beaten up, he might have known what happened to his daughter, but why he got to the mill is another question itself; I just know that he did die not much after I got to the mill. Maybe the sedan that Alexandrina''s source saw belonged to the father; maybe he got there to go after the killer; it still will take some time to put it all together, so for now I''ll leave the thoughts for the evidence board and focus on another issue at hand, one that doesn''t regard so much the case.


    "Okay, that helps a bit; can you ask Lindsay about the girl for me, then? I want to make sure we don''t miss anything before I wrap things up for today."


    Brutus, already expecting me to ask this of him, gives me a thumbs up as he throws some ice cubes into Colette''s cup and pours the old-looking and smelling whiskey for her, who once the opportunity presents itself, starts to wrap her thirsty, lean fingers around the cup as if strangling it. "Sure, I''ll be back in a minute, and you, agent, please enjoy the drink, and if you need a refill, I''ll get you one once I get back."


    All sounds around me at the bar seem to die; as the only one that remains, the deafening sound of the agent beside me sipping her drink quietly echoes nauseatingly, enough to make my brain tick in anxiety.


    There isn''t really anything that I can think about to try to initiate a talk; I''m sure talking about the case would end up in more awkward silence, but there''s at least one thing that I can do, one that is enough to leave me with the relief of having tried to improve my situation with her.


    I sense the woman eyeing me for a single instance as I let out a click of my tongue, gathering some courage and energy to try braving her defenses; her eyes almost manage to make me stop¡ªalmost.


    "Look, I don''t really know what your deal is, but I would like to, really; you surely have your own good reasons to hate my existence, and that is fine; I''m not here to ask for you to be my friend, but it would be best if at least we could talk to each other without this ''air'' in between. You surely have your own reasoning for being in this line of work, and probably you have someone you do this for, like family, a friend, or a lover, because I do as well. My sister; she doesn''t deserve to see the horrible side of the world that I''m seeing now, and I..." As I mention my sister, I look at the woman''s hand on the cup, seeing it tightening more than before, almost threatening to break the glass on the spot; her face holds a deep, ugly frown, one that I can''t really read further than what is obvious, so, not wanting to push her further, I sigh and stop myself from talking more. "You know what? Forget that I said anything; I don''t know you, and you don''t know me; we just need to complete this job. I''m sorry for disturbing you; I''ll leave you to your drinking."


    With the remnants of my strength of will, I push myself off the stool and back to my feet; my hands fall to my pocket, where I use my cold fingers to secure my phone so I can start to pull it out; but before I can move away from the counter and lock my focus on the bright screen, the woman who stayed silent all this time gives out one last growl before extending her arm to tap the stool beside her.


    "Sit down," she orders, finally after all this time looking at me for a reason different than trying to intimidate me away; seeing no reason not to do as ordered, I comply, sitting down beside her; once she sees I''m doing as asked, she loses no time in returning her focus to finishing the drink resting in her hand in one last gulp. "You are not as incompetent as I expected from a small-town detective; I''ll give you that, so for it I''ll do as you asked."


    Okay, that is a good outcome; it is enough to make me less tense at the very least, so I''ll count that as a victory; my arms come to rest once more atop the counter as the silence doesn''t stop after we solved that, but instead becomes less discomforting. Not long after, Brutus returns from the kitchen with a face that tells me that what he brings is not good news.


    "I''m sorry, but Pumpkin had nothing much to add about the girl; apparently, the story is that she came here at a late time, talked with most of the regulars, finished a couple of drinks, and then left some minutes before closing time; besides that, there was nothing irregular or strange about her." With his arms crossed, a bitter frown forms on his face. "I really wish I could help more, but that is all I have."


    "Hey, that''s fine; what you had already helps enough." Crafting a smile on my lips, I rise to my feet and watch as the woman beside me does the same; my eyes stop at the time on my cellphone, seeing that it is almost time for Astero to call so he can inform me of his findings regarding the clues on the mill; that is enough to hurry me. "We will go on now, but I promise to come back here some other time, while not on duty; thank Lindsay for me, please."


    "I''ll tell her that; good luck to you, Olivia. I hope this storm goes away soon so we can go back to the calmness." He smiles calmly, but behind his lips, I can see the crack on the edge of it that makes me see how much all of these things mess with everyone, and not just me; for this small, reclusive city to suffer with these murders... many of the people don''t even know how to deal with all of this, so there''s a certain fog of fear that strikes everyone; for this reason I hope this can end soon.


    With these words encircling the air, Agent Colette and I start to leave the bar together to find the other two agents, who are taking a bit too long to report back.


    Meanwhile, outside of the bar.


    Agent Dalia walks out of the building after receiving yet another call from Yui, who desperately tries to reach her again and again. Once she closes in on the turn to the alley where they are supposed to be, she can instantly recognize the mumblings of the agent as they walk from side to side with their phone in hand¡ªnervous mumbles.


    "Come on, pick up the damn phone already; this can''t wait longer. Oh man, if the detective comes out here, what can I say that won''t sound suspicious?" Yui mumbles, already dialing once more Dalia''s contact in an attempt to get them to this place, but before that can happen, the woman in question steps closer.


    The agent''s focus on the problem at hand is so much that only when Dalia reaches their side and places her hand on their stiff shoulder do they get back to reality, jumping like a cat at the scare before forcing a quick recompose.


    "Are you okay, Yui? What happened? Is it something so bad for you to call me that much? Because if I hadn''t had a good excuse ready on the tip of my tongue, I would have risked placing suspicion on my sudden absence."


    "Oh, it is good you came fast; we might have a problem, and I need you to tell me what I should do; just look here." The agent talks in a rushed tone, seeking to answer the woman''s questions in one go; their hand falls on top of the metal box attached to the pole where the modified cable phone can be seen, connecting the hard drive safely kept inside and the outside device. Hurriedly taking the phone into their hand, Agent Yui hands it to Agent Dalia; the phone shines with life at the touch, showing a pause symbol on the screen that hints at the agent''s successful data extraction. "Just watch it first, and then tell me if we should delete it or not."


    "I''ll watch it; just calm yourself down. The detective is currently occupied asking questions to the bar''s owner, so we have some good minutes to think about whatever you found; there is no reason to worry yourself any more than that." Those words have the desirable effect, as hearing them makes the nervous agent take a deep breath and slow down their train of thought; while that happens, Agent Dalia plays the video.


    It starts at the very moment a young woman, presumably the victim, stumbles drunkenly out of the bar into the alley, where she doesn''t take much before all the alcohol she consumed is vomited near the trash bin at the other end; the quality of the video is less than desirable, so the little details like her facial expression or the ability to distinguish shadows are impossible.


    The video continues; after successfully throwing up, victoriously missing her own footwear, it appears that the woman regains partially her grip on the moment as she looks around with a hand traveling towards her boots, but she never manages to reach it, as once she bends down and away from her own contents, a second figure appears on the screen, surprising her with a blow to the head with their hand, their form distorted and blurry but still recognizable as the gangly, newly transformed vampire; the gangly man''s figure, even if not being all captured by the camera fully, leaves lots to be unpacked.


    One of those things is how he appears out of nowhere in the middle of the alley and then proceeds to disappear with the now unconscious victim in his arms in a single instant; now Yui''s nervousness can be made sense to the agent; in any other situation, this could be shrugged away as a camera problem, even if it has very suspicious timing, but not to someone like the detective, who, even if fleeting, had a contact with the supernatural the moment she saw them act on the old mill.


    "Okay, your nervousness now is more understandable; but this isn''t something to fret over." The agent hands the phone back to Agent Yui before stopping to ponder the idea she has; once satisfied with it, she crosses her arms and gestures with her hand as she talks. "You''ll do this; download the file to your phone and send a copy to Julia, then attempt to delete a week''s worth of content from the recordings so no looks can be cast upon us; make it look like a technical problem from before we even set foot in this city. In the worst-case scenario, if you can''t manage to delete them, corrupt the hard drive, but only as a last resort."


    Agent Yui opens their mouth in surprise for a moment before grinning amusedly; their hands, with a supernatural speed, start to work on the order. "I see; when did that side of you bloom? I like this ''bad girl'' you a little more than the boring usual; keep it up." The request, which for some would take a little more than five minutes, is finished in two; the old hard drive makes sure to take up a minute and a half to work itself until all traces of the recordings are gone, like smoke on the wind. "Okay, done; no one can trace what I did here to us, as you asked." They disconnect the cable from the hard drive and phone, placing them in the pockets of their flannel shirt before closing the metal box of the pole and putting the lock back in place, the same one they appeared to have picked locked to gain access. "But seriously, about not telling the detective of this; it doesn''t feel a little wrong to you? And I know you''re going to say it''s about ''protecting our identities and the agency''s'', but... I don''t know; it just feels counterintuitive; I mean, she is working with us, right? So maybe we should work with her as well."


    "I understand your point, and I do really wish I could share it with you, but the safety of the agency and ours is first priority; trust me when I say humans can react very badly to things they don''t understand." Dalia talks with a straight face, thinking deeply about her own words as to reply in the most thoughtful way; suddenly, a smile blooms upon her lips. "Nonetheless, we will keep assisting her throughout this case; the fact we know means we can keep her safe as well."


    "Oh, I''m starting to get your logic; well, I guess it''s fine then." Letting out a yawn they seemed to have kept hold of since this morning, Yui shoves their small hands on the pockets of their jeans and starts to droll over a thought. "I really just want to leave soon so I can eat; my stomach is craving some blood and sweets, and after that, I want to hibernate a little."


    "We will; soon enough you will have the opportunity to do so. We are going back to headquarters soon; just let''s get Colette inside so we can see if everything''s fine before leaving."


    "At this point, I bet that Colie has eaten the detective out of anger; doesn''t she notice how she''s growling like a dog since she left her bed? It is actually funny to watch."


    As the laugh starts to leave Yui''s mouth, the detective and Agent Colette leave the building together.


    Outside of the bar, leaning against the somewhat sturdy door of my car, I go through with Agent Dalia about all that Agent Colette and I were able to get with Brutus, which wasn''t much, but even so, it was something at the end of the day; learning that the man came around to drink and the way he was acting weird, all beaten up and sad before sailing to his death out of nowhere, starts to paint a picture in my head that the more it receives the gentle strokes of evidence, the more it blurs out of view. It all happened a little too fast, with not nearly enough time given to allow anyone a moment to do anything else, or think for that matter; in only some hours we discovered the body and then got here.


    Now, I''m back to where I was at the beginning: deeply confused and desiring a good and calm lunch at Blue Wave Diner.


    Agent Dalia stops the silence that involves us after I''m done talking to tell me that their boss, the woman I saw on the station, has called them back to make a report and rest for the day, as the well we were drinking from has gone dry; the bar was the last piece we had to assemble before really reaching the inevitableness that is waiting for the lab''s result.


    She does nothing but wave at me, telling me that if anything happens, I can call Yui before disappearing into her own path; she only forgets to give me the agent''s number so I''m able to do it.


    It is kind of sad to watch them go to their respective vehicles and drive away; they are not so bad to deal with, even if it appears as such; I worked with worse people on the station before, and remembering about them makes me linger for the next opportunity to meet once more.


    At last, I''m given the chance to get my mind through what they said about the cameras, which stuck with me for a good reason.


    The city is suffering from a real strike of bad luck; I mean, two murders in two nights, and the only camera that could have any information has its files corrupted a week prior; add that to the shadows on the mill, and I think I can make a good drink, the kind that would make me pass out in a bathroom stall somewhere and vomit all over myself. It is hard to believe this is all but bad luck though; something shadows the back of my mind, a feeling that screams at me: ''We are being played; not all is what it looks like.''; the problem is that the more I learn, the more I start to lean towards agreeing.


    The thoughts are enough to put me in my auto-pilot mode, forcing me to dance around this thick mist that forms behind my eyes before allowing me the chance to grapple control back, to return fully to my senses¡ªsomething that, once done, makes me find myself already inside the car with the engine revving weakly, vibrating against the tip of my fingers as I pull away from the key, pleading for mercy from all it had to go through today: the dirt road to the mill, the streets to the bar, and the way back and forth to the station.


    My hands fall atop the wheel as I turn it, aiming the car''s front towards the exit of the bar''s parking lot; the street stares back at me as I look; I welcome the sight of the movement in it before it starts to flood with cars and people moving around; the city has now fully awakened, and I just wish I could rest.


    <hr>

 Day 2: -Advesperascit-

    Day 2


    <hr>


    Once the car is where it should be, I leave it to rest as I push the doors of the station open and mindlessly work my way inside until reaching the stairs down to Astero''s lab; on the way, I can see the other officers talking among themselves about the body we found in the mill. As most of the officers on the station are old farts nearing their so-waited retirement, the fear they have is clearly palpable in their frightened, perturbed expressions, showing itself without a shadow anywhere to hide in; hands shaking, legs can''t stay still, and their eyes, fast as a bolt, watch me excruciatingly as I step away.


    Their pity, comforts and disgusts me at the same time; most of those in this room never acknowledged my existence before, not even a word spoken while making coffee, nothing, but now I''m the target of their thoughts; I''m sure that in their heads, they are thankful that all has fallen on my fragile hands instead of theirs.


    Forgetting about them, I descend the stairs slowly, feeling their gazes ungluing from me¡ªno more stabbing my back with its force, no more strangling me with the unspoken words they carry. I pause in front of the lab''s door and let it open at its own speed before quickly entering the room and hitting the button on the wall beside it to close right behind me, keeping me safely away from the outside world as I lean against its cold, glass surface.


    Taking in a deep breath, I notice how shaky my lips became, and too, how my hands instinctively curled into a fist. When I raise my eyes to look for Astero in the lab, I see him in the middle of sighing tiredly as he pulls one metal chair from the other side of the room to near his desk, dragging it painfully against the carefully placed, spotlessly clean tiles that I dirt with remains of my travels.


    "I... was expecting to see you making that face... that is-" He speaks in turns as he multitasks, dragging the chair and talking to me, but once he finally manages to reallocate the chair to where he wishes, the ability to speak plainly returns to him. "That is why I got you some coffee as a thank you for yesterday." I watch as he takes in the breaths necessary to regain his energy as he sits back down, gesturing for me to do the same; it doesn''t take me much more than the invitation to gladly do so, gravitating first towards the chair before dropping myself on it with a groan. "I apologize I didn''t manage to warn you beforehand about the situation; my phone is out of battery, and I only stopped to notice an hour ago when I returned; I tried to get a charger with someone upstairs, but no one had a spare."


    "Don''t worry, that''s fine; it was just a shock to see everyone in the office; by the way, why is everyone here? Shouldn''t they be on patrol instead of Mel?" My questions crawl out of me as my hands, out of practice, fall atop the warm coffee cup, expertly twisting the top open as I bring it to my lips for a sip so I''m able to start working the knot in my stomach.


    Astero adjusts his browline glasses and rests his back further into his ergonomic chair, crossing his arms underneath his chest as he closes his eyes.


    "The Sergeant called them here for a meeting; I mean, this was expected, no? After what we discovered in the mill, we pretty much can''t go on without changing tactics. I heard that he plans to increase the number of officers on patrol, especially at night; and to why is Melissa on the streets now; she asked to take the day patrol schedule for today so the meeting could happen. In truth, I have no doubt that she was thinking of going out tonight and therefore so willingly took the chance."


    "That is something she would definitively do, alright." His words drag a lighthearted laugh out of me, and a rare scene happens; he laughs as well; it is somewhat rare to see this man laugh or smile; usually, he is a very closed person; that is why when we became friends, it was such a surprise to, well, everyone. The love he carries for his work is on another level; he breathes science and drinks from its tears; there isn''t anyone more trustworthy than him when it comes to this world we live in, of solving crimes and drinking coffee.


    I remember it was hard to get him and Mel to work together as they are polar opposites when it comes to personalities, but a little incentive was all I needed to use for it to work. Now, it is difficult to imagine any of us three separated. I wouldn''t wish anything more than to keep these fleeting seconds of peace, but sadly, the moment I catch the lack of a dismembered body on the metal table in the lab, the words leave before I can do anything about it.


    "Where is the body? Did you finish analyzing it already, cause if you did, that will be record time, I think."


    "Oh, yes; the moment caught me and almost managed to make me forget about it." Pushing himself on the chair, I watch as he slides with it to the metal table, grabs a file, and gets back to me; he hands me the file as soon as he does, leaving me to read it as he talks. "I''ll talk first about the things you might find useful that I managed to extract from the gathered evidence. To begin, I''ll follow what we got from the first victim to the last; with Melinda Kolesov, I was able to extract two pieces of information: The first is related to the dirt underneath her fingernails; on a quick look at the sample under the microscope, I was able to find traces of those small white flowers that grow around the less visited areas of the city."


    Small white flowers? I think I know what kind he is speaking of; that is one more thing I find amusing about him: he knows so much about so many things related to the job, but when it comes to more basic things, he can''t bring himself to care enough to learn; in particular, he knows nothing about flowers or anything related to space. He knows not one name of a constellation, nor even the most common name of flowers.


    "You mean poppies? You know, the small white flowers that grow near the tracks and the junkyard."


    "Precisely. From what I could tell, the victim most probably, while trying to fight against the killer, scratched some dirt and managed to accidentally gather pieces of a petal from it among the soil; that brings me to an interesting fact: these flowers, as I came to learn today, not only grow on the locations you mentioned but as well on the vegetation around the mill, hidden by the bushes; when my phone is charged, I can show you the picture I took of it."


    "Wait? You''re saying that because you think the location is not a coincidence, isn''t it?" I question as I fail to catch how that can be assumed with only that piece of evidence.


    "Yes, and there isn''t just that piece of evidence that tells us this same story; just look at the file, the third page."


    I do as asked, browsing the few pages of the file before stopping on the one he asked me to check; on it is a detailed description of what the body of the first victim tells us: the dirt, the petal he mentioned, and, to my surprise, the lingering presence of gunpowder.


    Seeing that, the picture becomes clearer; the bullets we found probably belonged to Melinda. I didn''t look much, but the lack of bullet holes anywhere on the stairs, walls, or ceiling is worrisome; no one would carry empty shells in their pocket, and connecting the gunpowder to the little I learned about how she behaved, I can say almost certainly that she tried to defend herself.


    "There was no sign of a gun anywhere on the mill¡ªno bullet holes decorating the wood¡ªbut there is gunpowder in her fingers and empty cases on the ground clearly indicating she shot the killer, or at least something. How does this make any sense?"


    Involuntarily, I do something that is common for me; I freeze my time and enter a state of deep thinking, that is, until Astero keeps going, pulling me out of it.


    "Aside from that, there was nothing much that I could gather from her; I could talk about the elevated alcohol in her blood, but I believe that you knew about that already." He waits for a reaction from me, and seeing that I don''t contest his claim, he takes it as confirmation and continues onward. "Now to the second one, Sergey Kolesov; I wanted to see how much alcohol he had in his blood, but there is where I have strange bad news for you; his body was dried of blood, and I mean that he didn''t bleed it all out. Page seven."


    Catching up to his words, my fingers dance around and lead the pages to be turned until my eyes can see the one in question; on it, pictures from the arms of the victim were taken and placed, not only from the first victim, as I spot that some of them have the broken nails of the first victim. On the wrists of both, a hole can be seen, small enough to resemble a needle mark, but on a more thorough look, I can see that it isn''t as small as it appears.


    So this was the cause of the lack of blood on the man? He was dried out by the killer, but for what reason? Blood is useless, especially if we''re talking about practical uses. His cause of death is marked as blood loss. "Wait, you''re saying that the first victim had the same marks as her father, but she wasn''t dried."


    "That is another thing I think you will find interesting; her blood was taken away, but not fully; it was mixed with blood from a different someone, a... dead someone; I contacted the hospital and sent them a sample so they can run in their database."


    A dead person''s blood transfused inside a living person¡ªwhat kind of monster would do that? Hearing that makes me sick to my stomach, making that sandwich I craved before stops sounding so delicious after all.


    Flipping through the pages on the file, I reach the first victim''s page, and at the bottom, just like the other, is the probable cause of death: ''Through a meticulous analysis, I can say the most probable cause is that the victim''s body didn''t fair well with the strange intrusion on her bloodstream, and on the fight, the mind didn''t manage to win against the intruder and didn''t resist the procedure.''


    A shaky breath leaves me as the quantity of information I received finally gets to me; my legs spring me back up to my feet and, in the process, leave the file to slide out of my lap onto the ground, away from me. "I... God, I''ll need some time to gulp that down. I''ll go to my office and start the report for Ed; I believe he wants one as soon as he can today with everything that has happened."


    Not stopping to chat some more, my body moves across the room to the heavy sliding door; except that before I can reach my escape route, Astero speaks. "I''m sorry to ask now, but do you have a charger I can borrow? It will be hard to get back home if I can''t call Lenvela to pick me up after I''m done."


    "Uhm, I think I have one in my office; but would you mind if I finished things up first? I promise I''ll let you borrow it before the sun sets; you just need to knock on my door in some time."


    "Thank you, I''m not in a hurry; like you, I have some stuff that I need to get back to, so when I''m done, I''ll go upstairs to your office." Grateful, the man turns on his chair to get up so he can grab the file in the ground. "And Olivia, I''m not that best when it comes to this, but stay well; if it all becomes too much, I''ll let you hide in the lab for an hour; we can even talk if you prefer."


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    "I''ll be fine, but thank you for the offer. I will hold you to that; best luck with work."


    After saying my goodbyes, I breathe deeply before rushing upstairs, dashing across the busy room until my hands push open with all it has the door to my office and close it shut; my fingers work to turn the coin slot lock on the round knob as my other hand closes the blinds of the window, giving me the little peace and privacy that I can get.


    Having a lot to digest and a report to start, I skip the part where I would nap on the sofa and go straight to my desk.


    Five hours go by and I have a door filled with sticky notes that, at this point, I lost count of how many truly fill every missing space it has. The words I wrote stare back at me like a past foe, mocking my every thought as my attempts to make sense of all fail to reach a singular conclusion.


    I look from the edge of my vision to the wall clock, noticing that in the midst of work, I lost almost a whole five hours; it is almost time to wrap up things for today and go home to have dinner; even my stomach grumbles furiously as I remember of eating as I didn''t the whole day; my hand instinctively goes to my belly as I sigh tiredly, but, as I lazily move to grab my hoodie from the ground, the door of my office is pushed open violently, managing to almost knock me off my chair with the scare.


    "Hehe, here I am, bringing you the best thing humanity''s ever created: food."


    Mel enters the office without regard for my poor heart, holding dearly in her hand a bag with Bella''s diner logo clearly stamped on it. She keeps a big grin on her face all the time, almost big enough to crack the soft skin of her cheek; beside her, holding a hand to his face like he was not on par with the idea of almost busting my office''s door, is none other than Astero.


    Mel is fast on her walk, aiming to reach my table, and once doing so, she drops the good-smelling bag atop my table before leaning against it in a cool pose, or so she thinks, but I won''t be the one to spoil her fun.


    For a single moment, her smile turns to a more preoccupied frown; she places her hand atop mine, which rests near the complete report. "I heard from the big mouth over there that you''re having a bad day, so I¡ª" Interrupting her is Astero, who coughs to grab her attention as she proudly talks, seemingly to remind her of something that she catches on quickly before returning her attention to continuing. "Okay, WE thought that it would be a good idea if we were to dine together, but mostly, it was my idea; so I accept cash or pats as a reward, preferably the second option."


    "Christ, this was supposed to be a nice surprise, not a test to see how Olivia''s heart can handle stress; that, I believe she has on excess right now, so let''s try not to add to the pile." Astero comments with a sigh, approaching my table as well; not so stealthy, he disappears with his hand inside the food bag like a magician before pulling out what I suppose is his meal, and to what I can see and smell, he got the same thing he always does: chicken salad with the side of fries, and to drink, a rather cute pink lemonade. "I''ll be taking the sofa if you don''t mind; my back could use something that doesn''t move around so much."


    "Sure, you can take it; and before I forget, the charger is plugged in the wall right there; you can use it now if you still need it." I point to the cable resting on the floor with its base occupying the outlet, just waiting to be used; the convenience that it is having it beside the sofa is something for which I''m very grateful considering that I''m one to forget to charge my phone with more frequency than I would like to admit.


    "I was about to ask you for it; thank you once more." He pulls the cable from the floor and up to the arm of the sofa, where he places his cell phone and lets it rest there, charging as he composedly takes the plastic fork and knife resting atop the bowl of food and starts to prepare himself for the meal.


    While my focus diverges from him and back, I see that Mel is the next one to secure her food and a place to sit, her choice being the chair in front of my table, in which she makes herself very comfortable, even placing her feet up on the edge of the table and using her thighs to hold the single, double meat cheeseburger with onion rings and extra cheese, and as for her drink of choice, she takes it out of the bag and places it away from the papers atop the table; a very cold beer can, to the point that there''s a thin layer of ice coating its body.


    Its rest lasts so little that when I blink, the beer is already on her hands and open; as for her mouth, it gets occupied with swallowing all the beer as she tilts the can almost fully upwards to gulp as much as possible of the content in one second; a satisfied breath leaves her chest as she makes a high pitch, happy sound, slapping her leg as her grin grows once more on her face.


    "Nothing like a cold one after driving all day; seriously, if Eddie asks me to do double time in my patrol, I''ll start to park the patrol car in the parking lot of Brutus''s."


    "You say that as if it isn''t a common practice of yours, Miss Officer." Astero comments in a monotone tone, but on the edge of his lips I can see a small, almost invisible smile; Mel seems to catch on to it as well by the way she proudly adjusts her posture.


    "Well, what can I say? It is a privileged spot for a serious and successful patrol." Mel laughs childishly, almost innocently if it weren''t for the clear intentions behind her decisions; when she gets back to herself, her eyes fall on me as I curiously move to grab the surprise that is what they bought for me. "I got you your favorite; just start eating, and you''ll feel better in no time; and I need you to, because I want to hear all, and I mean ALL, about those sweet, hot angels you walked with the whole day long. If you didn''t get it, I''m very jealous, by the way."


    "Of course, why didn''t I imagine that one coming?" I don''t manage to contain my smile as I grab the chicken sandwich and the iced tea from the back, with the tea really being the surprise, as the diner is not the place where she brought it, but instead, she must have driven to the bakery a street away from it; ''she got all the trouble to do so for me, huh?'', it passes on my mind, comforting me and lessening the crushing weight on my shoulders.


    To begin my feast, I place the tea on the table and open the wrapper around the sandwich with all intentions to devour it. "Thanks you two for stopping to do this for me; it means a lot, especially today, considering everything; and go ahead, ask away whatever is on your minds about them. The only thing I can''t promise is that I have anything interesting to share."


    "I want to know two things; one is how it was walking with them around town? Did anything interesting, like a conversation, a touch of hands, or whatever happen? And the second thing is, did any of them, by any chance, manage to catch your eye? I mean, as your sister, it is something I must know so I can help you, mainly because your dating experience is, well, let''s just say that when I compare yours to the rest, you are at the bottom of the list."


    "That wasn''t even a single bit subtle; good job," Astero says languidly, already adjusting his pose to correct the words from my sister. "What I believe she means is that she fears you can be dragged into circumstances where your feelings can be explored by someone with more knowledge on the matter than you, so she wishes to know beforehand so she can be of help, or maybe she just wishes to offend you greatly; that would be an option too."


    "Hey!" Mel, offended, crosses her arms tightly and almost manages to spill some of the cheese onto her clothes from the hamburger as she moves suddenly; with a puff, she turns her head to me and shakes her head. "He is right on the first thing he said; I just want you to know I''m here, and if anything, I can help set you up."


    "A terrible idea when we stop to think of your past dates, and that is talking only this month; like that long bearded guy you were talking to in the bar and almost managed to throw up on his-"


    "OKAY! Wow, we don''t need to remember that scene; I don''t need to remember, please. I''m still afraid to enter the bar and see him there."


    Both parts laugh, with one clearly a lot more happily as the other embarrassedly tries to put the story away from the mind; but there''s a moment where they stop in silence, turning their expectant eyes and waiting for me to answer the questions, and without an escape button nearby, I sigh and decide to talk.


    "Look, it is what I said, okay? They are... more normal than I thought they would be? Yeah, I guess. But when it comes to professionalism, they don''t have that morbid stare of someone from the corp, which is strange, but I feel relieved to see they are like us in a way. And, to satiate your curiosity, I''ll answer with this: you both know I''m not a date person; I don''t like to go out to eat, share my life, and then never hear from that person again. These things don''t come easily to me as they do to you, Mel, so I guess that all I have to say is to not worry your head; I''ll be fine, and if anything happens, I''ll consult the best wing woman in the city."


    "See, even she knows I''m the best; you really should be more grateful to have me around; I''m awesome." She makes sure to turn to Astero with all her pride tucked into a single, bright smile.


    In return, Astero only nods his head in defeat and focuses back on his food. "Yeah, sure; Olivia would say anything to make you feel like you are right now. Anyway, if you don''t mind, I''ll keep quiet and finish my salad."


    "Oh yeah, I''ll do the same; I don''t want to be around for much. I need to walk with Pirate, and then I''ll watch that series with the hot adventures fighting that family of vampires, you know, the one with that hot white-haired man that has a demonic pistol." She looks around from Astero to me in search of recognition, and once she doesn''t find it, she only nods her head in acceptance and shrugs. "You guys are losing a hell of a show; by the way, tomorrow''s your day to walk Pirate around while I''m occupied with patrolling. And to finish talking for now, I have only one more thing to ask: You can drive me home today, right?"


    Halfway through my sandwich, I nod my head, swallowing as fast as I can to respond properly. "Yes, I''ll drive us home; I''ll actually go after eating this."


    "Nice, then I''ll start preparing my stuff to leave; you can find it outside once you''re done." Her words come quick as she opens her mouth widely and bites deeply into her hamburger to secure it in her mouth, and then she rises to her feet and leaves the office, only stopping to wave her byes to Astero, who replies with the same gesture.


    It is a nice moment; Astero eats quietly and so do I, spending what must have been three minutes or so before he rushedly left the office to take a call from Lenvela, his wife, who the moment his phone comes to life, starts to call desperately.


    I finish my food, put the wrapper and the empty tea cup in the trash can beside my table, and put on my hoodie, ready and willing to go home, finally finishing this day once and for all.


    <hr>

 Midnight: -Liar Liar, Pants on Fire-

    Midnight


    <hr>


    At a certain agency''s headquarters, Unit 0 forgets the tiredness of the day and sits together in a circle around a small, housey coffee table, a piece of furniture that, like the long leather sofa and cushioned armchairs, makes the metal walls around them, hidden behind a not so subtle wooden panel, look less like a facility and more like something one could call home.


    Yui stretches their small body on the comfortable sofa''s surface like a cat, taking as much space as they can as a yawn escapes them sluggishly; their hands reach for the phone resting atop their chest, flipping it up so the screen is turned to their eyes before clicking their tongue to show how bored they are.


    "Ugh! I swear I''m about to bash my head against the wall if you two stay dead silent for more what? Four hours?" Groaning, the agent talks in hopes of reaching the two others in the room, but when their actions don''t bring any reaction, they pout only to stop as a plan starts to form in their head¡ªa way to get at least one of the two to entertain them out of the boredom that crosses their mind.


    While they start to formulate the next words that will come out of their mouth, Dalia and Colette stay lost in their own little world; the first connects herself deeply with the old, dusty pages of a book that long lost the words that stamped the animal skin cover, her fingers dance a familiar tune, expertly moving the pages as her eyes steal all the words it possesses and transmits it to feed her hungry mind, efficiently losing not a single, precious second of her time before basking into the uncharted knowledge that the next one holds, a guarantee surprise in each turn; as per Colette, she doesn''t distract her mind with an item, but instead, lingers her eyes at the ''window'' in the room, which in itself is just a television with a real-time feed of the night sky outside, but what takes the stage is the bright, third-quarter moon at the center of the screen; her eyes lock on it, not like a predator looking at its prey, but instead, like an old, bittersweet relationship.


    She could be perceived as anxious, perhaps even a little stressed; one could assume almost anything from the troubled look on her face, but as none dare to pry further than a look, it remains as a secret for her to keep; unfortunately to the woman, the moment of peace is interrupted by the last attempt to grab her attention from the frustrated agent.


    "If no one is willing to talk about today, I guess I''ll need to be the one to start the talk. Colie, so, can you enlighten us on what happened between you and the detective while we were outside? Because, strangely, it was just Lia leaving you two alone for some minutes, and you suddenly stopped complaining as you were before about the human. So, what was it? You had a sudden change of heart? Or maybe she said something you liked, something that made you all tamed-"


    The agent''s mocking words are interrupted as the woman, displaying her superior strength, unleashes without any restraint her sharp claws and sinks them deeply into the soft material of the armchair, clawing its way violently enough to make the job of whoever is going to sew it up be harder than necessary; a toothy grin grows on the agent''s lips as finally, a reaction worth their time is pulled from the growling woman.


    Yet, amidst the sounds of someone ready to blow in rage, something else happens¡ªan unexpected thing that makes the grin slowly die down from them as they watch the woman take in a long, deep breath, filling her lungs with clear, fresh air before exhaling it out of her mouth in a cloudy smoke that seem to carry her angry away.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    "My reasons are my own; if I decided to follow the words from Dalia and give the human a chance to prove herself useful, then that is something for me to deal with." Colette''s words come out with a calmness¡ªthe most she can muster considering her nature¡ªthat manages to silence Yui''s provocations as they spend a good moment in shock.


    "And I thank you for it profoundly; even so, I don''t appreciate you tearing our only furniture, you know?." Ungluing her eyes from the yellowed pages, Dalia smiles sincerely at the woman, sharing a good second of silence as she watches how Colette turns her eyes away from hers and to her claws as they retreat from the depths of the armchair and back to her chest as she crosses those arms tightly against her chest, so much so that the sound of her heavy coat being wrinkled is audible to anyone''s ear in the room. "I need you two to trust me; based on what I saw today, the detective doesn''t have anything bad in her nature. She is but just a scared girl. We can''t blame her for that, so let''s focus on catching our target and bringing some peace to her and the good people in this city."


    Well intended as it is, Dalia''s speech is interrupted by a message alert on Yui''s phone, and using the replenished energies of the many sweets they had before provided, they inhumanly quickly grab the phone and check the contents of the message; after a moment of reading, the agent lets out a sigh as they throw the phone at the coffee table, letting it slide to Dalia''s reach as they slump back into the softness of the sofa.


    "It looks like we are not the only ones with our little detective in mind. This is new; we are being praised for once by JB''s bosses instead of receiving a warning about our performance."


    Raising an eyebrow, confused at the agent''s words, Dalia takes the unlocked phone and reads the text from their handler; it is clear that it is from Julia by the many dog stickers decorating the text.


    "''Just got out of a meeting with the higher-ups. They are not happy with the new body being founded, but they are happy with the recordings not falling into the human''s hands; they send their praises and said to remind you all of the importance of the mission. The decision you three made today was the right one. PS: The bar of the city is not half bad; the drinks are to die for.''"


    As Dalia reads it out loud, another alert of a message comes, this one being the photo of a fancy drink atop the bar counter as the owner of the establishment smiles widely at the camera, displaying his biceps as he poses for the photo.


    Seeing all that there was to see, Dalia carefully places the phone back on the table and lingers a finger atop the book she was reading before sighing and deciding to get to her feet, pushing herself up; the other two agents look at her waitingly. "I must retire to my chambers; the night is soon to end, and I wish to catch some shut-eye before we go meet the detective again. Please remember to wake up early tomorrow; we want to catch the detective at the earliest hour."


    Colette only answers with a prompt nod of her head before copying the woman''s movements and getting to her two feet before disappearing into the long hall with the doors leading to their respective rooms; Yui stays on the sofa; only this time they decide to play on their phone to pass the time.


    As the tiredness grows behind Dalia''s eyes, she retires inside her room and meets her bed, finishing this day only to prepare herself for what will come on the next one.


    <hr>

 Day 3: -Ancora Imparo-

    Day 3


    Time: 6:15


    <hr>


    Rays of sunlight reflect from my window to the most inconvenient spot in the whole room; it could land itself on the wooden floor, shining light on the scratch marks of Pirate''s paws, or even better, it could go in the opposite direction and fall on the door, but no, the little things make sure to fall upon my closed eyelids, shining through them brightly and forcing me to decide between either turning around and allowing myself a nap of more five minutes¡ªor maybe even twenty¡ªor brave my laziness and get ready to work with the chance of maybe getting in the station a little earlier¡ªbut for what reason, I don''t know; there aren''t many things to do there this early.


    As I ponder my decision, opening one blurry eye to look for my alarm clock, a warm, wet tongue catches me by surprise as it travels its way from my cheek to my closed right eye, jolting me to full awakeness instantly; swinging my arms to push the perpetrator away for a moment, the covers slip off me and reveal how cold today seems to be, despite the bright sun outside; nothing worse than the day before yesterday, but still discouraging enough on its own merit.


    Looking around, I half expect to find Mel somewhere in the room, putting on her shoes awkwardly fast so she can wake me up to get a ride to the station; my ears premeditate a laugh that never comes, and so, seeing that she doesn''t seem to be around, I turn to the clearly happy furball and see the sneaky bastard breathing rapidly as it wags its tail, seemingly waiting for me to wake up and give him some attention.


    Noticing that it is best to tend to his needs before I get attacked again, I reach a tired hand up and let gravity place it atop his head as I use the least energy possible so I can pet the fluffy head of Pirate and still focus on gathering some courage to get up; he, in return, lolls his tongue out and growls happily.


    At this time he should be comfortably sleeping with Mel in her room, and my door should be closed shut to avoid this same situation; usually, when something like this happens, it means Mel most likely got out earlier than me because of Ed; to confirm my suspicion, I guide my gaze to the door knob and find Pirate''s leash hanging there, which instantly reminds me of what I was asked to do the day prior.


    Of course, right now won''t be the time I''ll walk him around; I still have to get to the station, work a bit, and if today''s movement is slow enough, I can use my lunch time to do that.


    Having rekindled some of the last spurts of energy I needed, my body is pushed up by my now firm hands, positioning me on the edge of the bed, sitting down and staring at my boots on the ground, as well as my clothes from yesterday, only missing my underwear and my shirt, both that I used as nightwear in my rush to sleep.


    Pirate, noticing my motions and understanding that they indicate I''m about to prepare to go out, gets up as well and jumps down the bed, dashing to the corridor and stopping there, like a guard, waiting for me to follow as he barks once to grab my attention and let clear his intentions¡ªthe intention of having his food bowl filled at once.


    With my feet well positioned on the floor so I won''t step on the dirty clothes, and with the tasks of today in mind, I leave my room and start descending the stairs to feed the hungry dog, take a good bath to scrub the filthy of yesterday''s away from my body¡ªand with some luck, from my mind too¡ªand get some adequate clothes to work, preferably ones that don''t smell like something from after a workout. I spend about ten minutes doing the tasks before driving to work, and assuring to Pirate that I''ll come to pick him up later.


    On the parking lot of the station, there''s a certain ghostliness as I find a place that should be crawling with old, motionless patrol cars in serious need of a good scrub, but instead, what I see is none of that; my car is the only one who takes one of the empty spaces to rest its tires.


    The wind, without any regard for anything, passes by me like it has somewhere to be as I crawl out of inside my car, reminding me that, unfortunately, the winter still has some sort of pleasure in making me shiver.


    With a sneeze escaping my nose suddenly, I instinctively shove my hands as deep as they can nestle inside the pockets of my cozy overcoat, and I keep my head down as I move forward, searching for any sign of a cool motorcycle or a black SUV that truly seems to be nowhere around as well. When I find myself a meter away from the wooden entrance, I open my palm and push the door open hurriedly, entering the station.


    A comfortable warmth, challenging the outside''s sharp coldness, permeates the building dearly and reaches me with an embrace akin to that of a longing family member at a cousin''s birthday party. I spend a blissful minute soaking in the feeling before the hint of a pair of eyes locked on my face pulls my strings, bringing me back to reality.


    I''m forced to begin searching for the owner of the gaze, and of course, I find it belongs to none other than Anja. The girl, sipping a mug of something clearly warm with the station''s logo stamped on it, opens her mouth to address me.


    "Oh, good morning, detective." Nonchalantly, the young girl sips the drink swirling around the mug and closes her eyes briefly, nodding her head once in a welcoming gesture.


    From the look on her face, it is easy to notice that she isn''t a bit happy to be awake at this hour, and by the smell, I can tell that the tea she seems to be drinking won''t help much in that department, as it is easy to tell that what she''s drinking is chamomile tea; the smell is not one unfamiliar to me.


    "Morning, Anja; have you maybe seen Officer Melissa around? She left home early today and didn''t leave any messages."


    The girl, opening her heavy eyes, thinks for a brief moment to fully process my question before leaning heavier on her office chair, almost laying on it by how it bends to accommodate her needs.


    "There were a lot of people here about thirty minutes ago, mostly officers; they are gone by now. I caught one of them saying something about places to park and the commercial hub. I think it has to do with the orders from the old man¡ªthe captain, sergeant, or whatever¡ªI''m almost sure I saw your sister''s hair peaking from her desk at some point, but I don''t know where she went in the city if that''s what you want to know."


    "Thank you, that helps; I just wanted to be sure she came by the station." As I finish talking and prepare to move to the office area, I notice that there isn''t just tiredness on the girl''s face but also a certain disgust, which seems to happen every time she brings the mug to her lips and forcefully gulps down the tea. "I can tell by your face that you''re not really a tea fan, huh? So why are you forcing yourself to drink it? If it is to be awake, I''m afraid to tell you that the type you''re drinking will do the opposite thing to you."


    Anja, placing the mug back down on her table, shakes her head once; her arms cross themselves in an unthought movement, helping to accommodate her tired body.


    "I know that, but with the coffee machine broken again, there was nothing to drink but this, and thanks to my real mom, this tea is the only thing I know how to make that doesn''t taste like vomit. I still don''t get how she can drink this horrible, diabolic thing every day without making a face; this thing, it''s straight up gross."


    As the warmth of the station starts to set in my body, adjusting my temperature the longer I stay here, the need for me to keep the overcoat on goes away, so as I talk, my hands focus on taking it off.


    "These things grow on you with time; for example, I didn''t like coffee growing up; actually, I hated it, but when I started working on the station, the need for caffeine made me start to enjoy a cup or two. What I''m saying is that maybe you''ll start to like it with time, but you need to choose the right ones for the job."


    "I prefer if I didn''t; tea is just not for me. Believe me, I tried many flavors many times before, and every time it was the same. It is just drinking grass with hot water, and sometimes that grass can be colored." Her answer is a good one, and by it I find myself opening a small smile on my lips.


    Soon enough, a silence falls between us that tells me it is time to move forward, yet something pushes me to solve one last thing.


    "Before I go to my office and forget, can you do me a favor and call the repair girl here tomorrow morning? I think that with everyone on the edge, they''ll need to, at least, have some coffee when they need it; you included."


    The girl nods her head, uncrosses her arms, and reaches for the phone tucked in her jeans pocket before pulling it out and unlocking the screen. "I''ll send her a message now, and when she messages back, who do I talk to? You or the boss?"


    "The boss; Ed will need to know so he can use the emergency fund to cover the repair." Every day I remember about the emergency funds, I pray; if it wasn''t for it, it would probably be my salary going to fix the thing.


    As someone who spends too little time on my phone, it is impressive to see how fast she messages the repair girl and puts it back down on the table; however, with that taken care of, I get my focus back to work and start to talk while walking to my office.


    "Thank you; if anything happens, you can knock on my office."


    The girl gives me a thumbs up in response before eagerly returning her eyes to the state they were before, closed and relaxed; with that done, I walk past the empty office area, one step at a time.


    As I reach for my office door, I stop for a moment, contemplating the option to check if Astero is hiding somewhere in his lab and maybe discussing the case some more with him, but remembering how much we are milking his mind lately, I decide to instead work on taking the sticky notes off my door and reorganizing them in the wall.


    The time that goes by as I move carefully across my office room is not registered by my mind; instead, it focuses exclusively on getting the original order of the sticky notes right¡ªso I don''t misplace any information on the wall¡ªavoiding losing any time on having to create a timeline again and again in a full circle. Even so, the wall clock that ticks without end atop the wall doesn''t lose its grip on that concept, so it serves its purpose, telling me with its hands that the seventh hour approaches.


    A new understanding of the time I have left down on me, pressing me into putting the last of the sticky notes in their places.


    I take a step back to look at the wall from afar, seeing all the pieces of information well displayed in their right places, not only that, but when I guide my eyes a little to the left, three shadows decorate the blinds in the window, all easy to recognize by their shapes, and one of them stops in front of the door and extends their hand, ready to knock on it, but before they can, I step further back until I''m sitting at my table and I talk.


    "Come in; the door isn''t locked."


    The yell leaves me, as I use the few seconds I have to organize the wrappers of yesterday''s food in a big, compressed ball that I''m quick to throw into the trashcan beside my table, only to miss completely on the attempt.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    With the permission granted, Agent Dalia pushes the door open and focuses, of all places in the room, her eyes on me, casting on her lips a simple, benign smile; being the first one to get inside, she walks composedly towards the chair near me and pulls it back.


    "Good morning, Detective; I''m sorry if we caught you in an early hour." The woman sits on the chair, crossing her legs and resting her hands on her lap, one atop the other¡ªclassy.


    Coming right after her, Agent Yui steps inside the room with minimal presence, unlike yesterday; they nestle their hands in their flannel shirt pockets, hidden away from view. Clearly carrying around a sleepy expression on their face that does not for long.


    First, they bring one hand out of their pockets and wave at me, and then, out of nowhere, they brighten up at the sight of something on the edge of the office, and when I look curiously to see what it is that got that reaction out of them, I only find my sofa.


    They seem to prepare to spring forward and throw themselves at the cozy furniture by how they position their legs, except that one single gloved hand grabbing them by the collar¡ªlike how one grabs a cat¡ªstops the action mid-way through, leaving the agent with a sour face and with their feet off the floor; the owner of the gloved hand, Agent Colette, without ceremony, gets inside and closes the door right behind her with her free hand.


    "Don''t." She orders, knowing the agent''s intentions even before they show more than one sign; by the face she makes, this isn''t uncommon to happen, or at least that is what I get.


    "Hey, the sofa is not yours, so let go of me; besides, the detective doesn''t mind me using it, right?" They look at me with puppy eyes, the same eyes that they hardly manage to keep while trying to push the other agent off, but the wall of a woman stays, unmoving, even with the relentless struggle against her. "Look, I really need more five to operate properly; don''t everyone want me to do my job at all my capacity? Because if the answer is yes, this is the way."


    "You seem awoken enough to formulate such lies." Agent Colette points out promptly, and everyone seems to know she got a point; by the way that Agent Yui fights off her grip, they seem to be pooling with energy and not lacking it.


    I look at Dalia without knowing what to say, and I notice how she ignores the scene for as much as she can before turning around on the chair and giving both agents a stern look. "Colette, please put Yui down; don''t you two forget that a display like this will give the wrong idea about our professionalism to the detective." The woman, ashamed, looks at me with an abashed smile. "I''m sorry you had to see this side of ours, Detective; unfortunately, this is something that challenges my control."


    Her words seem to get through the woman, who lowers the agent to the ground, yet there''s a moment where she shoots her eyes at me, awaiting something; assuming that she wants me to speak as well, I open my mouth to do just that.


    Adjusting my posture and placing a smile on my lips, I nod my head to Agent Colette. "I don''t mind if they take the sofa; I mean, it is pretty comfortable, and as they said, we need to all work on our one hundred percent if we want to get anywhere."


    As I finish my words, a vibration from my pocket steals my attention from them for a moment, urging me to check the phone that rests on it; meanwhile, Agent Yui, savoring the freedom granted by the final loose on the grip keeping them in place, turns around and sticks their tongue out to Agent Colette before rushing to the sofa and falling onto it; a moan leaves their pale lips as, like a cat, they stretch up their body as much as possible before letting go of all tension and relaxing.


    "Thank you, detective; it will... only be... a minute..."


    In record time, they fall asleep, skipping all the normal rituals of pretending to be asleep so the body does so; a snort soon escapes their slightly parted lips, indicating they are out for real.


    The screen of my phone shines, indicating that I got a new message, and atop the notification, a name stands out, one that brings a certain feeling of both fear for where it got me last time and a sort of excitement, as Alexandrina wouldn''t reach me for an invitation to drink something; no, she would instead tell me something that relates to the case in hand.


    Unlocking it and getting into the messaging app, I am able to read the text: ''I hope I''m not waking you up like last time, Detective, but I got a feeling you would appreciate being the first to know about this. A friend of mine who works at the warehouse on the harbor, one of the security guards, called in just now to tell me an interesting story, something I think you would prefer to hear from his mouth; just go there and find a man named Pete; call him Skinny, and he will now you''re a friend. He might just have found the car you''re looking for.''


    I go quiet for a long moment, losing myself in my own head; questions bubble from the depths of my mind.


    One more missing piece was found to join the board, and for some reason, I don''t feel so good about it; I guess having to rely on others is something that I don''t like much, even more when I think that it is my job to figure out this type of stuff. The worst part is that there''s nothing I can do but continue doing this, waiting for more information to arrive on the surface so I can paint a clear picture of the events.


    My memories of how Detective Reele operated are foggy; he wasn''t one to talk about his cases with, well, anyone, so if he had help from Alexandrina or someone else in the investigations he conducted, that is a mystery I don''t think I''ll be able to solve. This matters not; if I think anymore, I''ll deviate from the thing on which I should be focusing right now.


    Abruptly¡ªsnapping me away from the thinking cycle¡ªa soft, tender touch on my knee sends an alert up my body, almost making me jump if not for my quick recognition from whom it belongs. Agent Dalia, with concern pouring from her eyes as well as a hint of curiosity, studies my face.


    "Detective, are you feeling well? You were gone, far away, for a moment after you checked your phone; by your face, I assume the contents you received are concerning news." Keeping a silkiness to her tone, she withdraws her hand from my knee and only awaits an explanation.


    I gather some air in my lungs, feeling exactly as she described; amidst my thoughts, an expression crawled from the ocean waters to the sands; the muscles in my face form a deep frown, one that isn''t uncommon to happen when I enter this mode of mine. Many times before I received this same reaction from people, so with the knowledge of how to deal with it, I turn my frown upside down before talking.


    "Yes and no; to your first questions, I am fine; I just¡ªsometimes¡ªlose myself in my own head too much; please pay no attention to it. And to the other one; the news I received is good, a... well, not exactly a friend more than an informant of sorts¡ªthe trustworthy contact I mentioned yesterday¡ªreached out to me; she has a contact with one of the security guards from the warehouses on the harbor, and it seems someone has information on the car we are looking for."


    Agent Colette this time steps forward, closer to my table; her eyes analyze me for what feels like an eternity before nodding her head reluctantly.


    "What are your orders?"


    "Excuse me?" To her question, I can only blink to not lose my composure; instead of ordering me around like yesterday, she is asking for me to give the orders; this seems more uncanny than the empty parking lot of the station did this morning. "I think I didn''t get what you said, agent, truly."


    The woman crosses her arms, and after the silence stretches enough, I get that she is refusing to repeat her words; the worst part is that I can''t tell if I''ll piss her off if I try to order her or if she wants me to do it. Luckily, Agent Dalia comes to my rescue before I make a decision.


    "Detective, we were sent here to help you on your investigation, not to command it; I conclude that Agent Colette has finally come to this understanding. We move as you order; if you want to investigate the story from your source, we will gladly join you."


    I take one last look at the woman''s face, seeing that even if the other agent''s words anger her slightly, they seem to be coated in the truth; that helps me calm down. Seeing that the conversation with Agent Colette yesterday is already bearing fruit is reassuring for sure.


    Being in charge is a new feeling to me, an exhilarating one, and yet it brings a weight to my shoulders that for now feels fine, but I''m sure soon will grow enough to bring me to my knees; I can only hope that it will not happen soon.


    "Okay, I understand now. The hard reality of our situation is that this case''s pieces are all scattered around the city instead of being in one place; some have flown away from the board. One thing I learned from being an officer for some time is that tough situations require us to be more open to new methods. Checking this source can be a loss of time, sure, but too, it is our only lead, so in the worst-case scenario we will lose an hour driving; I say we check it out just to be sure."


    "If you believe this can be of interest to us, detective, then I do as well." Agent Dalia, pushing herself away from the chair and to her feet, adjusts her trousers and her vest; she turns to Agent Colette and nods her head. "Please wake up Yui calmly this time; I''m sure they would appreciate some gentleness instead of aggression."


    "That was my gentleness."


    The woman responds before walking to her meeting with the other agent''s sleeping body; their face is so peaceful and childlike in their sleep that I think anyone would have a hard time finding the strength to interrupt their rest, but apparently, that is not true to Agent Colette, who, without mercy, grabs their flannel shirt and pulls them away swiftly from the sofa and to their feet; she does it so easily in fact that for a moment I start believing that she must have some serious muscles under that overcoat.


    "Ugh, what the fuck do you want, huh?" Sleepy, the agent forces one eye open, not even managing to fully do it before massaging their own face to awaken the still sleeping muscles; little by little they manage to push sleepiness away, but not without a clear expression of anger to the woman. "I asked for a five; what the hell happened with what we talked about?"


    "Your minutes are over; we are going out." Using one of her gloved hands, the woman pushes the agent in front of us and out of the door; the empty office area, which for some hours has been devoid of life, is filled with groans and swears as they both walk to the exit.


    I, to not stay behind, get up and unwrinkle my coat before noticing the remaining agent''s eyes on me; when she sees I caught her stare, she only smiles and gestures towards the door.


    "Shall we go? I can give you a ride if you wish to not waste gas; besides, I believe that it is best for everyone if the unit stays all together."


    "I..." Stopping to think about her request, I see not one good reason to refuse; I spare the money to fill my car''s tank and can get closer to the unit at the same time. I''m sure this would be better for everyone, not only me. "I''ll take you up on your offer, yes; thank you."


    "Please, there is no need to thank me, detective." It is so strange how she can smile so much¡ªbe this gentle; if it is a mask, it is a hell of a good one. "Now, shall we?"


    As she gestures for the door, I nod my head and exit my office with the woman following right beside me. As I get a look at the door of the station, my mind can only think of the next step: checking this new lead.


    <hr>

 Day 3: -Donum Mortuorum-

    Day 3


    <hr>


    It is a little more strange than I thought to be in the same car as both agents; the fact that Agent Yui¡ªthe one who seems to have some difficulty holding their instincts of making a joke every minute or so¡ªisn''t here to turn this situation all a little less awkward; even with that, I focus myself on other things in my mind, avoiding to up the level of it.


    Different from when I drive my car, the radio in this one stays untouched¡ªgrounded¡ªand so the only sound that runs across the car is the wind that comes from the open window of Agent Colette as she sits on the passenger seat comfortably, focusing her eyes so dearly on the road that she seems unreachable at this moment, on a world of her own¡ªsomething I can relate to.


    Beside her, driving the car, Agent Dalia carefully conducts the SUV on the gentle streets of the city, not yielding her eyes from the road, or so I think, as for a moment, a not long moment, her eyes dive up to the rearview mirror, meeting mine in the process. I am quick to drive my eyes away from hers, or so I think, because in reality, the moment where we both looked at each other lasted some more than I registered¡ªat least five seconds; her response to me turning away is but a simple smile on her soft lips, then she adjusts the mirror''s angle to be able to see the few cars behind us.


    Fifteen minutes go by, and before I know it, as I choose to focus on my hands for the rest of the way, we reach the entrance to the warehouse area; it is a good thing that the station and the harbor are not so far apart, with the only thing that takes some of the time to get there being the poorly made dirt road that goes over the train rails.


    By opening the window and looking out, I''m granted the view of the many warehouses, side to side, having only a thin alley in between each for people to get by; directly in front of us, the guardhouse blocks our path forward with its sliding gate.


    One thing that stands out about it is that the gate seems to have been run down by something¡ªmost likely a car¡ªand then placed back where it was supposed to be. It is easy to tell by the way the gate bends at the top half. With the SUV not being recognizable to them, one of the guards, clearly on high alert because of the incident that seems to have happened¡ªa tall black man with a bald head, adorned with a nicely kept beard¡ªapproaches us, adjusting his uniform and the bulletproof vest, keeping one hand near the radio resting in one of the pockets.


    At first, I don''t manage to recognize him, but once he gets to the side of the car and taps the window to coerce the driver to roll them down, I recognize the scar across his palm.


    Agent Dalia lowers the window, looks at the man with a friendly expression, and begins to explain the situation before he even manages to pose his question.


    "Hello, good morning. I''m sorry to interrupt your work, gentleman. We are here to investigate the incident that I believe your team had to deal with yesterday; we are working alongside the local police force."


    She takes her federal badge from her pocket and hands it to the security guard, who in return glances at it for a moment before looking at Agent Colette, who rests quietly on her seat; at one point she notices that the man is waiting, and so she grabs the badge from her heavy coat and shows it to him, earning only a nod from his head as he returns Dalia''s.


    Before moving to me, I finally manage to shake my memory enough to remember who he is; he used to work as a night guard for the old red brick factory when the city still wanted to rebuild it ten years ago or so. I bumped into him sometimes since I joined the station, generally when he got hold of some teen''s drug stash when he moved on to the Mountain View Academy. It is good to know he is away from that place¡ªbad memories.


    If I remember correctly, his name is Robson.


    When I come to, the man stops at my window with a clear expression of surprise taking over his face; it doesn''t last for much, as not long after he allows a small smile to take over his chapped lips, betraying his image from before.


    "Hey, Robson, it is good to see you again; I''m glad you are still around," I comment as my hands fall on the badge clipped to my jeans, taking it out to show him. "Is the harbor treating you any better than the academy?"


    "In ways, yes; the pay is not bad, and the guys around here are a lot easier to deal with than those damn, entitled teenagers, something that''s good; after all, escaping this city is no easy task." Robson''s eyes fall on the badge, spotting almost immediately the difference from my old one; that alone makes him cross his arm and look proud¡ªdammit, he is almost making me smile here. "Wow, who would have thought that little Officer Rivers, the same scared girl from a little back, would become Detective Rivers? Good job, kid; I hope the station is treating you well too."


    "Say, Robson, do you know someone named Pete who works around here? I was told he is the guy to go to if I want to know about what happened here."


    "Oh, Rowe''s boy? Yeah, he works the night shifts from time to time, but, if I''m not wrong, I saw him checking in not long ago; if you want to catch him, just go to Warehouse 6, he should be working some equipment there. A friendly warning though: the boy likes to ''indulge'' in some, less than legal substances, so take all he says with a spoon of salt."


    "I''ll keep that in mind; it was good seeing you around. If anything happens, just remember that I''m one call away, or you can find me around the station." I extend my hand to him, and he takes it and shakes it strongly, not shying away or hiding his strength of grip; a cool-looking smile, the kind that makes you feel cool too, adorns his face.


    "Of course, if anything like this happens again, you''ll be the first one that I will call; best luck with your case, Rivers. Hope you catch the son of a bitch that is bugging this city soon."


    Robson, as he finishes his words, brings two fingers to his mouth and whistles loudly, doing so with his head turned to the guardhouse, where I can spot one of his co-workers giving a thumbs up and opening the gates for us promptly.


    To signal that we can go, he gives the car two good knocks and takes a step away.


    I watch from my window as Robson gets back to the guardhouse, his figure slowly getting further and further away as Agent Dalia drives and starts to look for an empty spot to park the SUV.


    Around us, the big open area of the harbor blooms with workers, a lot more than you see around the city, and that is to do with this business of harboring stuff and sending on the train to other cities being so lucrative, so, unlike the rest of the city, this place has a top-notch quality to it, from illumination to tools. The most important one is, without a doubt, the very good surveillance system this place has, one that, I''m sure, unlike the old one back in the bar, won''t be magically corrupted.


    To our left, I spot some stacked red and dark blue containers, one atop the other so neatly that it looks like someone''s attempt at modern, urban art.


    The important part to the driving agent lies to our right, where we can all spot the Harbor''s parking lot that we need; where many of the worker''s personal vehicles and a load of different types of trucks, ranging from simple pickup trucks to semi-trailers, wait patiently to be of use. Agent Dalia quickly secures an empty space in the first row for the car, careful not to hit any of the trucks in the process as the space proves to be quite thin for the robust SUV, but she finds a way to make it work without any damages.


    The first second the car''s engine quiets down, Agent Colette forces the car''s door open and gets out of the car, slamming the door close as she exits, leaving Agent Dalia and I to accompany her so we don''t separate¡ªthis is one of the rare situations that I think discussing how to approach the problem would be good, especially as we are missing Agent Yui, who set off in front of us in the road and disappeared, and keeping in mind the kind warning from Robson.


    I''m sure that a drug user might not be so happy when he finds three federal agents and a detective approaching them; even so, the best I can do right now is keep calm and be ready to defuse any situation that might occur.


    Stepping out, my eyes automatically search around for a very characteristic motorcycle resting somewhere in the parking lot, and to my fortune, it doesn''t take long before I spot my target. From its side, the agent in question becomes easy to spot, and even more so when they spot me back. Promptly, they craft a smile on their lips and begin running towards us without thinking.


    When they are close enough, the agent, not minding the speed they set off, has a hard time coming to a stop and entering the collision route with the car''s side; instinctively, I get in front of them and put my hands on their shoulder, helping them stabilize.


    The agent places their strangely cold hands atop mine; the temperature difference is enough to make me shiver in response¡ªtheir touch feels like the one of a corpse.


    "Oh, that was close; breaking my nose like this would have been very, very awkward." Agent Yui comments as they laugh awkwardly, but not short after they manage to stabilize themselves on their feet, they grin; their eyes shine, differently from before now that I look close to them, almost like they have a light of their own, and their teeth seem sharper somehow, but I blame the light reflecting on them for that. "Hey, you just earn some points with me; keep that up, and you can claim a special prize. Rest assured that there will be a lot of opportunities to earn more points. I fall a lot more than the average person." They add, forcing a tone to try mimicking a carny. "I think you''ll like what I can do for you, or, if you are more into being the one on top, I''m sure you can do a lot of things to me."


    Embarrassingly, it takes me more than a little while before the true meaning behind those words, laced with kittenish and lust, hits me with full force, managing to grab some heat from out of nowhere and drag it to the center stage¡ªmy face¡ªexposing my reaction loudly to anyone''s curious eyes.


    "I..."


    In my mind, millions of ways to respond to the agent''s flirt surface, but with the ample amount and the fact I was not expecting something like this to happen, I end up red-faced and without a single word to say.


    Agent Yui grins wider at my reaction and plants their hand on my shoulder before mapping with their fingers a path towards my collarbone, one that ends up shortly as they come to a stop on the vein in my neck, lingering there.


    "That''s a very nice reaction, Detective; I''m glad to see you''re not one of those boring people who play only for one team." Those words from them just worsen my situation; fortunately, they give me enough time to regain my composure, but even that seemed to already be on their plans as the moment I open my mouth to, finally, talk back, they seize their touch and step away, teasingly. "Come on, Detective, even if I would love to pull you away from the others for a moment to have some alone time, we have a job to do, no?"


    As I''m left there to push down my throat all of this anomalous situation by the smug, walking agent, in my mind the question ''What just happened?'' resounds until I''m compelled to follow right behind the moment I notice none of them stop to check if I''m near.


    One towering warehouse after another¡ªa never-ending sight that just keeps on going. We walk all at different speeds and pass by them on the cement path leading to the end of the harbor; the yellow lines on the road, the various marks of tires, and the smell of car smoke are all too overwhelming to the senses, especially my nose. I find it hard to believe that someone could just get used to this, but then I recall the smell of Sergeant Eddie''s office room, and everything suddenly becomes a bit more bearable.


    I can see the part where the road ends and meets the cold, unforgiving waters of the ocean; gazing at it, I see the nothingness that waits, where the waters continue on but my eyes can''t see past the earth''s curvature, leaving me to feel strangely calm at the scene.


    To all sides, life goes on very tumultuously: workers drive around with copious amounts of crates on their cars, getting them to the other side of the harbor; people talk, laugh, and argue, all without fear of being heard, using the tumult to keep their conversations anonymous.


    Warehouse six, the one we were told the man named Pete would be, stares right back at us with its imposing height; the metal walls, somewhat rusted, with parts being hidden with a new coat of silver paint, stain the air with the smell of salt from years of being embraced by the winds coming from the waters.


    On the wall, the number six can be seen, painted in old, black, almost all gone paint; not only that but resting its back against the same wall is a very skinny man, wearing a harbor security uniform, missing only the vest. The figure''s cheeks are almost hollow, devoid of any filling; the beginning of a beard is visible on his face, almost completely shaved off. A band-aid hides what I assume are scars from trying to manage a razor while not being able to control the shakes in his hands.


    Clearly, the figure is, as told before, our drug addict, and remembering the words from the station''s rules: ''Drug addicts are one of the most complicated types to deal with; if your badge is visible, they will see it before you approach them and will proceed to run away, so to avoid this scenario, approach the individual when alone and with one partner only.''


    Before the agents go for the man, I step forward and hold one hand up to stop them.


    "Wait, just one second. If I can make a suggestion, I believe it is better if only one of you goes with me to talk to the guy."


    Agent Dalia is the first to nod her head. "Sure thing, detective; who do you want to accompany you?"


    Hum, that is a difficult decision to make. Of the three agents, Dalia is the best choice if I don''t want things to escalate; her calmness and softness surely will subdue the man if he feels threatened. Agent Colette is probably the most trustworthy when it comes to stopping the man from doing something dumb, like running away in fear; she surely can hold him while I attempt to calm him down. And there''s Yui, who with their relaxed posture should be able to coerce the man to be more open; I''m sure that of the three, they would be the best choice, but only if I knew more about the man.


    "Colette, come with me; be prepared to stop the man if he tries to run. Just try to be a little less aggressive if you can; I don''t want him scared." When she looks back at me without any kind of response, I take it only as her way of accepting my words, so I look at the other two agents to let them ready. "You two, just wait here a moment; if you see things are okay on our side, then you can join us."


    "Yes, Captain, as you wish." Yui, still holding that grin from before, pulls out their phone, connects a black earphone to it, and occupies themselves with, from what I can tell, watching videos on it.


    Agent Dalia, on the other hand, has a newfound seriousness to her expression; she looks at the man before gazing back at me. "I''ll keep an eye and join you shortly; please be careful."


    "I''ll be, don''t you worry; we will just talk with the guy," I answer with a serious face, mimicking hers, and that seems to swipe away some of the tension forming on her shoulders, but even if I would love to just stay around doing nothing, with the task at hand, I nod at Colette, and we both start approaching Alexandrina''s informant.


    As we do, I look side to side to make sure that if anything happens and things escalate, there won''t be a crowd ready to start filming the incident and get me a not-very-pleasant warning from the mayor; the many sounds and moving people, fortunately, create the perfect scenario, one that gives us the chance to avoid unwanted eyes.


    The moment the sound of my boots hitting the cement floor reaches the man''s ears, they twitch in response, and his eyes shoot in our direction like a scared rabbit; he gazes for a moment before lingering his eyes lower and meeting the reflecting beam of sunlight against my metal badge. His face turns from chilling and disconnected to immediate fear and anxiety; his hands move to his side, where he grabs a cigarette pack from atop a crate and hides it in his clothes, shoving it down his pants.


    Once close enough to him, the man opens his mouth to talk¡ªsmiling awkwardly¡ªbut before he can produce words, Colette''s voice rings¡ªstern, powerful, and disarming.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    "Don''t even think of it." She warns with a growl as the man''s feet move away from the ground, ready to spring away to safety.


    "I''m not thinking of anything, ma''am, haha... just working; yeah, I''m working, so what do the two cops want, huh? Bothering a working man on his... working hour." He doesn''t lose a single second before activating defensive mode, where he takes a step back, and adjusts his posture to look more imposing, which ends up making the rise and fall of his chest more visible, showing how nervous he is, and attempts to copycat Agent''s Colette expression, failing miserably to do so. That is enough to tell me that this isn''t his first rodeo.


    I step forward with my hands raised to my chest, showing that we are not here for trouble, or attempting, as the growls from Colette do a good job of leaving the man scared for his life.


    "Relax, just take it easy; we just have some questions, that''s all. You answer them, and we go away to let you enjoy your work."


    The man reaches his breaking point pretty fast; sweat pours from his face down to his eyes, forcing him to blink a lot, his hands tremble with adrenaline, and before I know it, he decides that a stupid move is better than not doing anything. For a junkie, the man is pretty fast; he dashes backward and turns around to run away; in that same moment, the agent who was beside me, just watching him, leaps in the man''s direction incredibly fast, reacting instantly to his movement and gaining the upper hand.


    She grabs the man by the shoulder and pulls him backward strongly to the point that he is left to spin nauseatingly before having his neck grabbed and body lifted from the ground a centimeter or so.


    For a moment I stay immobile, stunned by the woman''s fast reflexes and attitude; her grip on the man is not light, but I can see that she holds herself from being more aggressive like I ask, especially when I remember how easy she lifted Agent Yui before and how much more aggressive she was. Her eyes fall on mine as the man struggles to fight her grip, but not needing to fight for air.


    He ends up losing all his energy in the process and, in the end, decides to stop and stay like a puppet in her grasp, defeated. I can''t read her expression, but I sure can tell that she wants me to do something that isn''t staying around, looking, so not to disappoint, I get to her side and clear my throat.


    "Look, Skinny; Alexandrina sent me a message saying you had some information for me about what happened last night." Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I show the man the messages exchanged between me and the journalist; his eyes widen before softening, and from his lips, a relieved sigh escapes. "I told you that we are here just to ask some questions."


    "So you''re the friend Alex talked about? Geez, man, why didn''t you say so before? It would have saved me some sweat." Skinny''s personality changes like so, going from deeply afraid to super chill; he taps Colette''s arms in surrender and looks at me pleadingly. "Can you please ask the barbarian in your party to let go of me already? I like to be strangled by strong women from time to time, but I''m working right now, you know? Kinda unprofessional."


    With a disgusted expression, the agent promptly lets go of the man, like someone who touched something nasty on the sink, and instinctively retreats away, leaving him to stumble for balance before finding it by hitting his back against the warehouse''s wall. A dry laugh escapes him before he uses the back of his hand to clear the saliva from his lips after being strangled.


    "Okay, Skinny, you''re free like you asked; now tell us what you saw," I order, getting in front of the agent as I notice her discomfort; I don''t manage to look at her expression to confirm if I''m right, because instead I gesture for the other two agents to join us.


    Once everyone is within ear reach, the man''s smile dies down and turns more serious, like he''s about to tell us something that should be a secret or that sounds like complete bullshit.


    "Right, imagine me sitting super chill in the guardhouse, hearing some AC/DC while keeping my eyes on the cameras; just one more regular night, nothing strange around, only one team working on double-checking some of the crates to ship by train to the big city. Then, out of nowhere, some headlights shine in my direction so bright that I raise my hands to shield my eyes from it. Some anger boils in me, and I step out of the guardhouse to talk with the dumbass when the car speeds out of nowhere; it hits the gate loud as fuck and keeps on driving, almost falling apart because of that. Then, when it gets to the end of the road, it just falls into the waters; I rush to see if it is some drunk teen who decided to be dumb for a night, but when I get to the sinking car, there isn''t a single body in there. Well, that was what I was able to see before it had fully sunk to the rocks."


    "So you didn''t manage to see anyone driving the car, but you said that they speeded out of nowhere, so there must have been someone, no?" My question is met with the man''s widest smile as he nods his head frenetically.


    "That was my thought too, so get this: when I got back to the guardhouse to call my supervisor, I had to satisfy my curiosity or I would go crazy over it, so I checked the cameras to see if they got something, and then I saw that they managed to catch a figure inside the car; actually, let me grab the tablet in my truck so I can show you the recordings; just wait here a moment."


    My eyes linger on Skinny''s figure as he runs as fast as his lean legs can manage towards a forklift with two crates stacked on its forks; my gaze doesn''t stay for long on him, as from the edge of my view I can notice a certain shift in feeling coming especially from Agent Yui, who rocks their body while avoiding looking anywhere near me. The time I have to question this strange behavior goes by as, in impressive time, the thin man returns breathless to our view.


    "Found it; I just need to ask you a small, tiny favor if you want to see the recordings. You see, downloading the camera content is not exactly something someone like me can do, legally speaking, but if anything comes up, I need a good excuse to avoid any problems. And what better excuse if I did to help the police, huh?"


    "Sure, if anyone asks, just say that I requested of you the recordings; now, the tablet, please." I extend my hand, reminding him that we are on the clock here and that what he has is important; gladly, after getting what he wants, the man hands me the table with the recording paused on the screen.


    The first thing I can see is Skinny, as he stated before, sitting in the guardhouse without a worry on his mind; he holds what looks like a hand-made cigarette, which, looking at him and catching the strong ''herbal'' scent coming from his clothes, I can tell is no cigarette.


    Touching the play button, the device recognizes the request and starts playing the video for me and the agents who gather around me, not needing to fight for space because of their different heights; their interest is unusual, but again, this is an important clue to the investigation; maybe we will finally get the face of our killer.


    Continuing the video, all goes fine for about thirty seconds before, from the depths of the darkness that is the road leading to the harbor''s entrance, everything becomes illuminated by the bright headlight of a car; it stays there for a moment before the car accelerates as told and hits the gate, bringing it down and breaking some of the car''s front body part before it manages to go past the blockage and into the road of the harbor. It only accelerates more and more, and then the camera changes, showing the dark waters that I saw before, calm and untouched in the night, but not for long, as the car, driven sideways in some fast frames, hits one of the small, metal street poles connected by chains and loses momentum before falling into the water.


    The face of the person does not appear on the video, but before I can ask Skinny about it, he touches the screen and slows it down before repeating the scene where the car falls into the water. Now one interesting thing is noticeable: in one single frame, a gangly man can be seen leaving the car and simply disappearing in the next.


    "You see now, attempt to explain that to me." The man smiles as he points out his findings; one thing he doesn''t notice is that he is the only one smiling. "I knew for sure I was not high enough to see this type of shit."


    With some difficulty, I manage to get back the frames of the video and find the exact point the figure appears, stopping at it. The doubts in my mind disappear as recognition strikes me: ''He is the man from the mill.'' I think to myself, frowning deeply as a headache threatens to take me over, ''It is the same type of gangly body.''


    I notice some features of his that sure will come in hand, like the fact he wears his hair in a low ponytail, that he seems tall, and his face, even if not in all best resolution, still manages to creep me out.


    "Skinny, I¡ª"


    "Wait, there''s more; as you are already here, I think it is the perfect moment to add that some equipment was stolen from us. Not the ''everyday'' type of equipment; just come with me; I''ll show you what I mean."


    Without any options, I follow the man as he guides me and the agents towards the entrance of warehouse six; meanwhile, I pull out my phone and take a photo of the figure on the video, just to have it with me. I can''t risk that this evidence gets corrupted as well.


    Skinny guides us to the warehouse''s big, imposing metal doors and loses no time in putting his hand on the small space in between them and trying to open it for us. When I notice him clearly showing some difficulty doing it alone, I get to his side and assist him on the task that turns out to be not as easy as I thought. The door is really heavy to open, and the lack of anything to hold on to that can help us turn it into an even harder task¡ªthere''s no way someone alone could open this.


    The smell of rust and old oil on the rails creates a real assault on my nose¡ªsomeone should clean this door soon; nonetheless, forcing a bit more, the door opens and we are granted a look inside the place.


    Crates take the tall shelves to left and right, not enough in quantity to fill all of them, but still impressive on its own. All of the crates seem to be marked with something that I''ll need to get closer to properly check out. The air inside is cold, as the temperature inside is kept to a certain degree, probably to not let certain items expire.


    Regaining his breath, the man walks to the inside wall near us and grabs a clipboard that rests in a holder, soon returning to me with the item in hand.


    "I''ll explain the situation before you can read it¡ªbetter for you to have some context; some days ago I noticed that one or two crates that were supposed to be on the top shelf to the right were missing. Well, it wasn''t really me who noticed but the workers. Anyway, yesterday, after the incident, I had a bad feeling that something was wrong; I think I caught a glimpse of the warehouse door half open while running back, and that stuck with me. Then I came here and noticed that more crates were missing¡ªlucky for me the door was still half open; it is all in the clipboard." After telling the story, he finally hands me the thing so I can read the paper in it. "This shit will not fly well with my boss if he thinks the workers did it."


    No words leave me; instead, like in his story, a bad feeling overshadows me, growing down my stomach and up my lips where I frown because of it. My eyes focus on the paper, and reading the name of who owns this warehouse, the bad feeling becomes explainable. "Temporary Owner: Andrey Kolesov," I mutter loud enough for the agents around me to listen, and instantly, Agent Dalia joins me in reading the document; her hand falls to my shoulder as she tries to not make me uncomfortable while still having space enough to read.


    "This is the same name of the second victim, is it not?" She asks, to which I nod my head, not ungluing my focus from the paper.


    Reading the list of equipment, I can see that all of them were to be shipped on two different dates, half of them in two days to the big city, where they should be delivered to Galileo Biotech, and next year to the same place. On the list, the names are too complex and strange for me to recognize, so instead of trying to figure them out myself, I pass the clipboard to the agent beside me.


    "I don''t know what any of this equipment is; because it is for Galileo Biotech, I have a clue of what it might be, but if we can know exactly what it is, my sergeant would appreciate having it in the report. Got any clue?"


    "Most of what I can remember by name tells me that on these crates lies equipment for blood research of all kinds, enough to supply at least two hospitals for a considerable amount of time. That and the other most basic materials like gloves, needles, tube holders, blood tubes, and gauze; there are loads of those here¡ªindustrial quantity." Dalia responds with a puzzled face as she sees the same things as me; some of the materials, the ones with the most complicated names, are marked in red, presumably the ones that went missing yesterday and the days prior.


    Suddenly, Agent Yui, who was quiet until now, leans by the agent''s side and gives a quick look at the paper, like they are making sure of something, before turning to me with a proud grin and their phone in hand.


    "I just researched the name of the missing stuff; all of them are for dealing with blood¡ªat least that''s what the internet tells me. One is for extracting blood and processing; the other is for counting blood cells; stuff, not your average Joe would know how to handle."


    Their words remind me of the conversation I had with Astero yesterday and what he told me about the first victim, something that I didn''t have the chance to tell the agents until now.


    "It is a good thing that I remembered something important; yesterday our lab tech was making his report on the body of the girl, the first victim, and he managed to find that her blood was somewhat mixed with someone else''s blood¡ªhe told me that it seemed like the blood came from a corpse. Now, this thing doesn''t prove that¡ªonly the hospital will when they send the results back about the sample¡ªbut it sure connects the murders to the lab, or at least someone who worked there. How else would they know about the warehouse if the documents were private? Why go after one of the researchers from the lab and one of the big investors? And too, how would they drain Andrey''s body and toy with his daughter''s blood?" Nodding my head in affirmation to my own questions, I start walking from side to side while thinking about it, and seeing that the more I think, the more sense it makes. "It fits the questions; we just got concrete evidence to start a manhunt for our killer; we just need a name and permission from my superior."


    I feel a familiar touch on my shoulder as someone stops me from walking around. Agent Dalia looks deep into my eyes and breathes deeply, prompting me to do the same. "Detective, don''t forget that we need to check the car too; the evidence can be connected later when we have all of them."


    "Yeah, you''re right; sorry. It is just that this is big; for once in three days we have a face and some good pieces on the board. The prospect that the city can, maybe, soon breathe calmly again just got to me." I calm myself from the excitement and steel myself once more, preparing myself for the work ahead. "Alright, let''s see where the car fell into the waters¡ªmaybe we can find something." Turning around, I look at Pete and see him standing awkwardly as he waits for us to either finish or talk to him. "Skinny, can you call the station for me? Tell them that Detective Rivers is requesting a team to help get a car off the waters."


    "Sure thing, ma''am; I''ll be at the entrance if you need me." He answers with a salute before walking out of the warehouse, holding his phone in one hand as he dials the station''s number.


    Agent Dalia hands me back the clipboard, and once she does, a letter falls from between the papers to the ground; intrigued, I squat down and take it. The item seems handcrafted, especially when seeing the hints of glue that seeped from the edges of it and solidified. With nothing else to do but open it, I pry open the letter and get the paper inside.


    The most noticeable thing when I get a hold of the paper is the name of the father, inked outside with a drawing of some balloons and a cake; the ink didn''t fair well with the paper and blurred the lines.


    Inside the paper, a message reads, ''Happy birthday, my sweet angel; I know I have been distant lately, but work must be done. I got you some of the best equipment I could find with the help of a colleague, and I am sure you''ll appreciate them in your future and current research. Know that even if I''m far, I can always feel you near me, and I hope you can as well. Love, Father.''


    Some sadness entangles me as I read the letter; this was all a present to his daughter, one that she will never receive... Feeling bad, like this was not something I should have seen, I put the paper back in the letter and together in the clipboard before placing it back where it was on the wall.


    With that out of the way, I focus on the agents; there is a moment of silence in which no words are needed, only the simple exchange of looks before we all start walking out of the warehouse in shared sympathy.


    <hr>

 Day 3: -Fire Escape in The Sea-

    Day 3


    <hr>


    We all follow the harbor''s road until reaching its end, the same area the cameras showed the car falling into the waters; tire marks, more predominant than the others made by the worker''s vehicles, stand out to my eyes; it is clear that the person turned the car on purpose so they could escape. Broken chain''s pieces and the small metal pole only avoid the same fate as the car, being swallowed by the darkness of the waters, because of the other poles that stay intact and connected to it, which creates a sound every time a gasp of wind makes it hit the walls of the harbor.


    Stepping forward to the edge of the road''s end, a smile comes to me, as even in the darkness that might fool one or two people into believing the depths are unreachable, the rocks that are glued to this road, their formation, hold the car on its side, which I can only tell by the hint of its metal door open and sticking upwards from the dark.


    I am glad that today isn''t as cold as yesterday and so on, because my smile doesn''t come from the fact that the tow truck can easily manage to retrieve it, but actually from the fact that it is within breathing distance; my thoughts are that if the killer had all the trouble to try disappearing with the car, then they were desperately trying to hide some important piece of evidence from us.


    While I take off my boots and socks, putting them to the side, I make sure that the agent''s focus is on the waters and not on me. "It is good that the killer really doesn''t know anything about the city; the car won''t take more than two hours to be retrieved, I think."


    Properly folding my coat, I place it atop the boot, secure from any possible splash. To end my precautions, I put my gun, taser, phone, and wallet on the pile as well; it would be terrible to lose all of my things because of my next action. The cement against my soles is not one of the best feelings, especially considering that it is very rough, like walking on a box grater.


    "Yes, indeed; I just hope for whatever might be in there to be recovered without any unrepairable damages." Agent Dalia comments before turning to me, already noticing the lack of my coat, and not after, my boots¡ªmy naked feet serve as enough warning for her to formulate what I''m planning on doing.


    To her discontentment, I don''t allow her room to speak; quickly, I turn to Agent Yui, who doesn''t catch anything different and just looks at me with a grin. "Agent, what I''m about to ask you is very important, so listen closely. I have something to ask of you that I need you not to question; just do, okay?"


    "Bad girl, I like it; just shoot it." The words leave the agent with an intrigued purr.


    "I need you to push me into the water¡ª"


    Whoosh


    ...


    Everything happens too fast, giving me only a brief glimpse of the agent''s faces as it happens. Dalia widens her eyes and attempts to catch my hand without success; Colette stands there, immobile; even so, I manage to catch her stopping herself from doing anything by the way her hands untie from crossing against her chest before returning to where they were; and Yui just grins, amused by what I asked of them.


    One thing I have to give the agent is their reflex time, and I guess their lack of common sense; if not for it, I''m sure they would not have done what I asked. My body fights the air as my weight brings me down into the cold, wet embrace of the water''s bosom that once gets a hold of me, giving me all but a moment to suck up all the air I can before pulling me down.


    Splash


    There is a certain moment where it all becomes so peaceful; where my worries are washed away like sins as I float, where I stop thinking and all I can feel is a strange sense of peace¡ªof belonging to the ocean¡ªthe feeling feels like it lasts an eternity, soothing me like a mother''s embrace, but in reality, it is just a fleeting moment¡ªa lie, one that I would love to believe, to grasp close to my heart even if for a moment more¡ªthat is clear the moment my body is hit fully by what situation I find myself in.


    From outside, I imagine that it would be cold and that the waters would get to me before giving me the chance to adapt, but this is on another level; I can only compare it to getting into an ice bath in the winter.


    My body finally is struck by the shock from the sudden immersion, making me almost involuntarily gasp and swallow a bunch of water, but biting my tongue I manage to hold the instinct at bay; next comes the very hard work of my heart to adjust my temperature, all in vain, as there isn''t a way that it can keep all of me warm, and so I feel my extremities get tingly and cold.


    The first few seconds are of pure agony, which to my luck lessen as I shift myself to the right position and get my eyes on my prize, which, as I saw from the edge of the road, really isn''t lodged that deep. Using my feet and hands, I swim downwards, fighting the waters to move.


    Different from a pool, the difficulty to move is at least two times harder. My hands get a hold of the car''s door and keep me from floating up as the quantity of air in my chest is still greater than the water''s pressure.


    I first look inside at the front seats, trying really hard to find something¡ªburger wrappers, a bottle of whisky¡ªbut nothing that really helps me. On the back seats, too, there is not a single item, neither floating nor resting.


    For a moment I start to think that this was a very bad idea and that I allowed the heat of the moment to get to me, a heat that would be very appreciated right now. Now wanting to get to the surface empty-handed, I check the compartments of the car, first the cup holder, which is empty, then the visor for any documents, and lastly, I check the glove box.


    The make the damn thing open is a pain, not because it is locked, that''s for sure, but still, something must have jammed the thing on the fall; in the end, using my feet against the closed door, the compartment opens suddenly, and I''m let to float backward, hitting my head against the ceiling and losing some of my air in an exhale before I have the chance to redirect my body to the right angle so I can see what I got.


    A flip phone, very similar to the one the daughter had, shows itself to me.


    Time runs short, my air supply starts to run out, and a throbbing starts to grow in my head; the pressure makes me feel like my head will explode the more I stay, so instinctively I grab my finding and kick the closed door so I''m pushed out of the car.


    Staring up, the sunlight reflexes on the water, its beams diverging in all directions, but its source staying in one place, like it is waiting for me, guiding me; of course, to not disappoint my favorite medium-sized star, I swim up against the clock as parts of my vision darken, as my muscles weaken, and as my life slips away.


    Tick, tack, the clock goes on, and with it all my time; slipping away like grains of sand in an hourglass.


    The three agents stare down at the waters as the detective swims downward, out of view into the shadowed embrace of the cold mirror, where the light finds trouble illuminating far.


    Agent Dalia, who tried to catch Olivia''s hand before she fell, kneels down and gazes at the water, trying to find more of her, any sign, yet, in the end, she finds only her own gray irises starting back.


    Colette, growling in anger, turns in the direction of the other agent, who still holds a grin on their lips as the woman disappears.


    "Hey, before anyone says anything, she asked me not to think, so I didn''t; how could I imagine she would be crazy enough to go after the car?" Yui comments, holding their end to defend themselves. "Still, kinda cool of her; goes to show that she does have balls."


    Except, the anger from the agent is not focused on them but instead on a scent of blood that reaches her sensitive nose, still hot, from a small animal, likely a rat; her eyes dart to the direction it comes from, prompting the apologizing agent to, with a curious face, do the same.


    There, atop the same warehouse they were a moment ago, a gangly figure, wearing a cloak to protect its skin from its arch nemesis, the sun, stares down at the agents; on its face is an expression not easy to spot, so the agents are only able to see what they imagine is a smile because of the exposed, sharp fangs that stand proudly, waiting to get stuck in someone''s neck, that someone being clear as day, as the fact that the figure was spot doesn''t sink in their mind for a long moment.


    Once it notices that their cover is blown, the figure jumps away incredibly fast to the forest and runs away.


    "He was watching us; his scent is becoming harder to detect." Colette, spitting on the cement floor, holds herself from going after the man and only returning with his head in hand, as she knows not to underestimate a target, especially after the punch he managed to land on her jaw.


    "Shit, the guy doesn''t know what no means; I''ll have to teach him later, with my fists." Laughing, Yui turns to Colette, who focuses past the words from the agent, ignoring the unnecessary comments¡ªsomething that makes them sigh and get somewhat serious. "He is surely growing courageous; I mean, he isn''t afraid of us one bit, and that says much after what we did with his face. That means he probably will try his luck again."


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "Yes, even so, we can''t take that to heart yet." Agent Dalia stops looking for a sign of life from the detective and gets back to her feet. "For good measure, we need to stay beside the detective for as long as we can manage today; at night we can come up with a plan to deal with the threat. We need Julia to find the detective''s address; we can''t risk him capturing her."


    "Okay, whatever you think is best, boss; I''ll message JB after we are in an area with a better signal."


    As their conversation comes to an end, the loud sound of someone gasping for air as they leave the waters makes them all turn to the source.


    At last, succeeding in my ascent out of the depths, I find myself being able to open my mouth and not drinking half of the ocean''s worth of water with my lungs; coughing, my throat hurts somewhat, but still, the flip phone in my hand makes it all so much worth.


    For the first time since I started working on this case, I can say that I''m genuinely happy about the result of the investigation.


    My eyes flicker from the rock wall of the road and the distance of a fall from it to where I am; there''s no way to climb back up the walls, not without a rope; that is why they put a ladder on the side of the road, so if anyone was dumb enough to fall in, they could easily climb back up.


    Swimming in the direction of the ladder that lies on the side of the road, I grip my hand around the metal rods that connect it and feel the wet, seaweed, and other sea life forms that are very slimy to the touch, something that makes it hard not to slip on it, so I reinforce my grip and start to climb up carefully.


    When I peek my head up with a relieved exhale, leaving my relaxing body, I see the eyes of the three agents lingering on me.


    "Are you alright, Detective? Did you swallow any water?" Dalia offers me her hand and pulls me up to my feet, away from the ladder; her hands touch me before inching away as she feels the coldness of my body at this moment. "Detective, you''re freezing! Please put your coat back on." The woman bends down and grabs my coat, unfolding it and getting to my side so she can put it around my shoulder.


    I smile at the woman, finding her worried face warming. "I''m fine; please don''t worry so much; I didn''t mean to scare anyone, so I''m really sorry for that."


    "You don''t need to apologize, Detective. I just hope that your actions harvested something good and that next time, you exercise patience; these waters could have swallowed you to the point we would not be able to do anything to help."


    "I gotta say, Lia is right; don''t you worry about apologizing; the view is doing enough of that." With a smug on their face, Yui crosses her arms and poses like a person at an art gallery, looking at something very nice and expensive; following their gaze, I see that my shirt is, at this moment, because of the water, leaving nothing to imagine as it glues to my skin. "I painted you as a sports bra girl; you know, because of you having to move around town and all, but I am a fan of the classic types as well."


    "Yui, can you please try not to embarrass the detective; imagine yourself in her shoes for a moment." In an attempt to defend me, Dalia places her arm on her hips and scolds the agent, who in return only smiles and shrugs.


    "Hey, if I were in her shoes, I would be very proud; just saying."


    Sensing that if I just let these two continue, I''ll stay here all day, I step forward, and instead of touching the woman''s shoulder as I don''t want to get her vest wet, I tap it lightly. "It''s okay, I don''t mind; I''m not sixteen anymore, so this type of stuff doesn''t affect me."


    I see the woman sighing and giving me a nod of her head. "Then I am glad, but please don''t hold yourself back from telling us if anything bothers you."


    "Sure, I will. Now, let''s get to the important part. Look at this little baby I rescue from the car." Wriggling my hand, I put in full view my finding; it doesn''t look so impressive now, especially as water seeps from the thing, but still, it remains important. "It seems our killer wanted this gone, or maybe it was just luck that this was in the car; in any case, I''m no expert, but I sure can dry this and put in a new battery to see if I manage to save it, and if not, I''ll take it to an expert tomorrow."


    "Nice work; I knew you were going to be a nice addition to the unit. Aces high." Approaching me with a hand held up, Yui prompts me to grin back as we slap hands; their slap is strong, to the point my palm reddens afterward.


    "Let us not get ahead of ourselves; we will have the time to commemorate after the threat is no more; still, I don''t mind indulging a little in the moment as well." The woman, mimicking my action, taps my shoulder friendly. "Good work."


    "And no words from Colie, how unexpected." Mockingly, the agent approaches Colette, who slaps their hand away as they make their way to wrap around her shoulder. "Still no fun, as always."


    "''Fun'' is not needed; the only important thought is the one involving completing the task at hand."


    "Ugh, party killer."


    Feeling a sneeze claw its way up my nose painfully, I shiver and hug my coat closer to my body; the sweet release from it doesn''t come, only the itch that makes me frown.


    "This was good; we advanced the investigation a lot today; I have to remember to thank Alexandrina for the info. I think I need a change of clothes, to ones that aren''t dripping, so I''ll stop by my house; I''ll just wait for Mel to come pick me up if you guys need to go somewhere."


    "Oh, please, don''t you worry; I can give you a ride to your house without a problem. It is the least I can do, considering I offered to bring you here." Dalia offers without losing a heartbeat.


    "If that is the reason you don''t need to worry, I mean, using your logic, you brought me here, and it would be a disrespect to get the seat of your car wet; I know the pain that is waiting for it to dry off the leather. Besides, I don''t plan on going back to the station soon; I promised my sister to walk our dog as she has her hands full with the new patrol schedule."


    The woman readies herself with a smile to, if I have to guess, say something along the lines of, ''Nonsense, a wet seat is no problem at all.'' Except that, before she has a chance, Yui spawns from behind her like a shadow with the sincerest and widest grin I have ever seen on their face¡ªsure a record even to themselves.


    "You have a dog!?" They ask a little too loud like they are announcing to the whole harbor the fact. Suddenly, the agent turns to Dalia with what looks like the best puppy eyes they can make, pleading even before getting through the question part. "Boss, we can go with her, right? Think about it, we get to spend more time with our beloved detective, get to know her a little better¡ªand her dog, of course, can''t forget the dog¡ªmeanwhile, we use our free time, as sure, we have absolutely nothing else to do¡ªif you say paperwork, I''ll punch you¡ªand yeah, it''s a win-win situation; can''t go wrong."


    "Well, that is true. But this isn''t our choice to make; if the detective would like to spend her free time in peace, then that is her right."


    There''s a moment where sadness befalls on Yui''s face, something that reminds me of when Melissa used to be sad when we first joined the station, and she wanted to party and celebrate all the time, as I focused one hundred percent on the job¡ªno such thing as free time for me; that was when she didn''t make that face; she knew exactly how to push me into making some bad decisions. To my luck, those decisions were the best ones; they connected me with the city like never before¡ªperhaps this is what I need to do¡ªconnect myself some more with the agents; it can''t hurt to try.


    "No, no; I think Yui is right." I let the words leave me, surprising both agents, but nothing from Colette, as she remains with an unreadable expression.


    "You do?" Yui asks with the revival of the beam.


    "Yeah, I don''t see why not if you are all free; I don''t hate spending time with you guys, and who knows how much time we have until the investigation is finished and we never see each other again. I''ll bite this chance."


    A rare scene, or so I suppose, is when I see Dalia laugh¡ªshe smiles a lot, but laughing, that is new; when she notices my puzzled expression, she simply turns to me and politely excuses herself.


    "I apologize, it was out of my control; seeing Yui act this childish is, sometimes, too much to handle. And I couldn''t help but notice you dropping the honorifics; I''m pleased to see we are becoming more of friends to you; feel free to correct me if I''m mistaken though."


    Today is really an off day for me; something is just not right; first, Yui''s flirts got me to blush so easily, and now I''m doing it again; the genuineness behind her words just strikes me right. I don''t know; the only thing I know is that my gaze travels elsewhere as I rush the words out of me so no one notices.


    "Then, what are we waiting for? If it isn''t a problem to go now, of course." I say shyly, even though I make sure to try to sound less affected.


    "All right, this is happening!" Jumping to my side, Yui pushes me forward as a way to make everyone hurry up. "One thing, do you mind if I park my bike in front of your place or in your garage? I don''t want to go all the way back to park it on your station."


    "Yes, it isn''t a problem at all."


    "Nice."


    Just like that, we all get to the SUV, less Yui, who rushes to their bike and, instead of rushing away, waits to follow us; Colette, without a word, takes the backseat instead of the front one now, telling me that we will change seats without actually saying anything, so once I open the passenger door, I use my coat to sit on so I can avoid getting the seat wet and sit comfortably.


    Soon enough, when everyone is ready, Dalia starts the car, and I''m facing the dirt road again, only this time, instead of looking at my hands, I look to her as I direct us on the right path. Through the side mirror, I manage to catch Robson waving me goodbye as he leans against the guardhouse, so I wave to him back before the harbor totally disappears from view.


    <hr>

 Day 3: -44 Coneflower Avenue-

    Day 3


    <hr>


    44 Coneflower Avenue, the street where flowers grow from underneath the old pavement of roads in the summer and bloom in the spring, beautifully so, to the point some people around here drive very carefully not to run over them¡ªme included; at this season, they go back to hide themselves from the cold, hell, I would too.


    When was the last time I stopped in front of my house and looked at it? I mean, really look at it.


    Since I started working, forcing my frazzled feet to help me stumble my way up the small stairs that lead to the door without paying any attention to anything has become routine; not this time though, this time I pay attention to the white and blue walls of the house¡ªblue on the up half and white in the lower one¡ªstill hanging up even when some of it clearly needs to be repainted; the garage door, with its white design marked in black paint on the sides by Pirate''s paw¡ªan idea that Mel had to decorate the ''boring design'', as per her words, that ended up adding to the house aesthetic¡ªthe same garage that Yui so rapidly get to with their motorcycle; and lastly, the overgrown bushes near the door in serious need of trimming to shape it into something less wild.


    Dalia stops the car beside the sidewalk and looks at the house as well; we both spend a bit of time on that before I turn my face to talk with her and find her eyes already moving to mine timely. She rests one hand on the wheel, tilting her body in the seat''s direction as she rests on her side.


    "You have a beautiful house, Detective; I can see a lot of care and love permeating its walls."


    "Thank you; most of the ''love and care'' you see was from some wild idea my sister had that she gave up last hour and I had to finish, but I guess that adds to the general ''housey'' look of it." I tap my seat to indicate that I''m getting out and place my hand on the door. At the same time, Yui returns from the garage¡ªwhere I can see they put the bike in front of it nicely¡ªand opens the door to my right so they can get to the back seat. But they stop to wait for something as I step out; meanwhile, Dalia and Colette have an exchange of looks in the rearview mirror. "I''ll be back soon; I''ll try not to take long to change; about my dog, if you want, I can put him on the front seat and I go on the back."


    "Don''t mind that; just tell me this: You want some help to get change? Cause I''ll tell ya, I''m very good at this technique¡ªUgh!" Interrupting their words, Colette pulls their flannel shirt and makes them fall back on the seat before her other hand ends on the door''s handle and pulls it close.


    Now I see why they exchanged gazes.


    Dalia, satisfied with Colette''s work, turns to me with a kind smile and shakes her head.


    "Don''t worry, if you find it reasonable, your dog can go on the back seat; I''m sure Yui will like to pet it on the way." As an answer to these words, Yui extends a hand up with their thumb sticking up in confirmation. "So please, change in your own time; we will be here waiting."


    To her I nod my head, grab my coat from the seat I was sitting on, and the rest of my stuff that I make sure to carry all in one hug before closing the car door with my elbow and sticking my free hand into the still wet pocket of my jeans to grab my keys; one of the only things that I forgot that was with me before jumping on the waters, how cool.


    I stick the key on the keyhole and twist it until I hear the lock turning. Once that happens, I use my shoulder to push the door open as I tiptoe my way inside to avoid accidentally tripping on Pirate as he comes to greet me, something that I''m glad I did, as the moment I use my feet to kick the door close, the golden retriever comes at full speed in my direction from the kitchen area before trying to stop himself, only to fail that and drift until he is flipped on his back near my feet with a happy smile plastered on his face as he breathes loudly.


    "Hey buddy, you good?" A lighthearted laugh escapes me; the scene of Pirate struggling to flip back to his paws is a good one; it''s just sad that I can''t help with all the stuff in my hands. "Come on, you can do it; put more strength on those paws."


    My words of encouragement seem to do the deed though, as the tone I use to talk to him gets him all happy and excited¡ªvisible by the way he wags his tail¡ªgranting him enough energy so he finds out that he can simply roll over to fix the situation. He does it with an enviable pride.


    "Okay, Pirate; Mama is going to change upstairs, and then you and I are going on a walk with some new friends, so you better be on your best behavior, or else you''ll get no biscuit."


    All I say is ignored, but the two trigger words that he chooses to focus on¡ªwords that put him in another level of excitement¡ªseeing him wagging his tail so much like he is trying to fly with it, I smile and reach down to pet his fluffy head.


    "Stay; I''ll be right back." While I give the order, I point for him to go to the sofa he likes so much to sleep on with Mel in the open-plan living room.


    The moment I turn my eyes to the stairs and lean my body to walk in its direction, Pirate springs off the floor and sprites up the stairs before I can do anything about it; more and more I see that leaving Melissa to educate him was not a good idea after all. Shaking my head tiredly, I ignore that and follow right behind Pirate as we both make our way to my room.


    Once in front of the door, he sits on his hindfoot and waits patiently for me to put my hand on the handle, and once I give it a little tug, he loses no time in pushing it open with his head and running to my bed; it still manages to impressive how good he can jump. Ultimately, I think the weekly walks are doing him better than I thought.


    Once he finds a comfortable spot, warmed by the sun coming from the window, he lays his head on my covers and relaxes, leaving me to do my thing as he waits like a good boy.


    I place all my things on the table near my bed so I can forget about them for now and focus to my right, where the wardrobe doors rest beside a standing mirror, the same one I look at myself out of practice, noticing how Yui''s words are truthful; next time I jump into the ocean, I''ll be using something fitter to the task, preferably a swimsuit.


    Undressing from the wet clothes, they cling to my skin possessively all the way until I finally manage to pull them off me; the shirt falls to the wood plank of the floor with a wet splash sound, then the pants join in, followed by my socks, and so a pile of things to care about later forms.


    I stay in my underwear as I open the wardrobe, gazing at all clothing options for this walk; all the places I could choose for it, like the park or the train tracks, will have to wait. For this time, the beach is a better option, as I''m sure it will be quiet and empty, just like I prefer. The fact that there''s sun in the sky instead of the gray mass we call clouds means that at least the breeze will be nice, and the general temperature will only get better as we grow closer to midday.


    Normally, I would just throw on anything that looks good enough while giving me a professional look, but now, for some reason, I feel something inside of me whisper in my ear, telling me that I should try for once to dress up casually as this is a non-work-related occasion; no reason comes to mind to go against this feeling, as it gives me an excuse to wear the clothes I own that have never seen the light of day.


    From all of the possible combinations, I can see two that stand out; they look interesting enough while still managing to feel like something I would wear, rather than something someone told me to.


    The first one I never used before, a white sundress, wide leg shorts, and a floral sandal pair that I can steal from my sister; or I could go with something I''m more used to, a high waist, black shorts, the white shirt I got with a pirate skull from when I was ''volunteered'' by my Sergeant to clean the beach last year, and I could still use the sandals from Melissa in this one as well.


    Grabbing the options and putting them against my body as I look at the mirror to check how I stay with them on without actually putting on them, I ponder the options for a good moment or two before finally giving up on trying so hard and, in the end, I choose the one I''m more used to.


    With that out of the way, the only thing that remains is my hair; fortunately, that one is easy to deal with.


    Five minutes pass like the wind; along that time, I manage to dress myself nicely, get my hair under control, to the point it looks actually decent for once, something that will avoid the sad fate of my curls being used by a bird to make a nest, and to complete the fit, I take the blue flower hair clip that rests in my desk and put it on, which, in the end, adds some confidence to my being.


    Kicking the wardrobe door half-close, carefully enough not to use too much strength, I bend down and grab the wet clothes pile, folding it neatly and resting it on the space of my window, so at least until I get back home to put it on the washing machine, it has already had the chance to dry up and not create mold.


    Spinning around, I snap my finger and grab Pirate''s attention with the sound as I walk to the door and pick up his leash; he raises his head and tilts it curiously.


    "You ready, buddy?" I ask, kneeling down to wait for him to come to me, something he does quickly by jumping straight down and almost head-butting me in the process; he then sits politely as I get the collar around his neck and hook the leash, adjusting just enough that he can breathe nicely. "Good boy; a shame you only do what I say when you can get what you want. A thing you have in common with your other Mama."


    A happy bark leaves him, almost sounding mockingly, or at least, that''s what I like to assume, as picturing him as the reincarnation of a real pirate is a lot cooler; that thought alone gives me an idea.


    With a mischievous grin, I pet his head and get to my feet, grasping from my table the skull eyepatch that I bought for him some time ago, and so I place it nicely on his missing eye; now he can live up to his name.


    Pirate doesn''t even care about the accessory as he finally becomes impatient to leave, standing ready and willing to accompany me downstairs¡ªor race me¡ªby the way he sprints without waiting any longer as soon as he figures out he can open my bedroom door with his paw as I left it half open.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    My gun, taser, and the rest of the things I was carrying¡ªall that isn''t my wallet and phone¡ªstay atop the table in my room so I can pick them up when I get back.


    A couple of stair flights later we stand in front of the door; the last thing I do before going out is that I take some money from my wallet and place it on the savings jar near the coat rack, making sure to let the lid open so my sister knows that she can use it if she needs to order some food after she gets home.


    Outside, as I occupy my head with closing the door, the clear sound of the car''s door being pushed open grabs both Pirate''s and my attention. Looking around in its direction, I catch Yui, with a big grin, staring at the dog with loving eyes; they tap the car''s seat and talk softly in encouragement, and once that happens, without a care in the world, he forgets about the leash, and me, apparently, as he starts to run to get inside the car as soon as possible, forcing the leash on my hold to pull me in with him.


    "Pirate¡ª" Calling his name does nothing, so, thinking fast, I''m quick to react and let go of the leash so he doesn''t strangle himself on the careless attempt; it doesn''t even manage to meet the floor as the speeding dog drags it. "There he goes..."


    Just as expected, he stumbles on the leash on his way, gets his paw caught by it, then rolls over, acting like nothing happened, and when close enough to the car, easily manages to jump to his meeting with the seat, being caught by Yui''s embrace soon after; the content sounds of his breathing mix with Yui''s as both start to share one untroubled brain cell.


    All I can do as this happens is suspire and shove the keys in my pocket, giving one tug to the door to make sure it is locked; seeing that, in fact, it is, I start making my way to the car.


    For some reason, walking without a coat or hoodie on is strange, especially for someone who is used to dressing in many layers, so the lack of something covering my shirt is bothersome, to say the least.


    I go around the car and reach the passenger door; opening it, I touch the seat to make sure I can sit down without getting my shorts wet. The good news is that the seat seemed to have absorbed most of the water, so there is no chance that I''ll feel uncomfortable immediately as I place myself on it with the surprise.


    The door closes as I pull on it; soon, my hands grasp the belt so I can put it on, and as I do it, from the edge of my vision, I catch Dalia''s gaze lingering on me complimentarily, traveling from my choice of clothes to the hairpin adorning my hair.


    "You can say it; you too think this is a bit too much, right?" A dry laugh escapes me as I lean the back of my head against the headrest.


    "In no way is it, as you put it, too much, Detective; it just comes as a nice surprise to see you in more casual clothes, that is all. I believe you would feel the same way to see, for example, Colette out of her more, let''s say, unshaped clothes." The woman comments as she twists the key on the ignition, bringing the car back from its slumber. "The flower is a nice touch; it complements you well."


    "I''ll take your word for it then; thank you," I say with a small smile taking over my lips; as for my hands, they instinctively move to tuck a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. It takes me a moment for me to notice what I''m doing and get a hold of myself.


    "Hey, Lia; stop flirting with the detective for a moment and look here; look how cute he..." Yui taps Dalia''s shoulder to get her attention; meanwhile, they wait until I nod my head, confirming that Pirate is a he before they continue. "He has a freaking eye patch! We need to get him as part of the unit; we can''t miss this rare talent."


    Feeling all eyes on him, Pirate barks happily and lolls his tongue out proudly; this causes Yui to hug him again and pet behind his fluffy ears. "What did you name this angel?"


    I try answering, but Dalia, touching my shoulder stops me. "I''m sorry, before you two start talking more, where should we go for this walk?"


    "Oh, right; so, you take the main road and get us to near the train tracks; from there, just go forward until a beach becomes visible. To avoid people stopping us to ask about the case, I thought the beach was the better option; surely it will be empty today." I watch Dalia shake her head and start driving the car out of the sidewalk''s side. "Now to your question, his name is Pirate." Finally, I answer Yui, who seems overjoyed with the revelation.


    The sun comes over Dalia''s window and falls on me, shining its dappled light from the distant path on the horizon, where it slowly climbs its way up the sky from the trees near the train tracks. It''s warm to the touch, so gentle that it serves to tell me that I was right about today being less cold than the week''s beginning; the end of winter is so close, only one week away.


    I look at the car''s display screen, seeing the time exhibited on the far right: five to eleven; that comes as surprising considering I didn''t think we had taken so much time on the harbor, but I guess when you''re constantly thinking about something, time goes by without waiting for you to catch up.


    Well, in any way, that is good news; I can probably grab something to eat after the walk before getting Pirate back home; that alone is another victory, as facing a day''s work with an empty stomach is hell.


    To get to the beach proves to be a difficult task. My memories failed to remind me why I do walks on Fridays like today without taking the car from the station''s parking lot; the main road is flooded with people, driving their cars hurriedly from the big city below us on the map to the one atop, people who want to spend their weekend with their families, away from their jobs for a little while before returning to their normal lives.


    Looking at the road, I see the sign standing on the sidewalk, signaling that we are near ''Pirate Bay'', the beach where half the year stays untouched by a single soul, and in the other half¡ªthe summer half¡ªbecomes the most visited place to escape the heat. Interestingly, I''m not the only one whose eyes fall on the sign; those same eyes turn to me seconds later with curiosity shining on the gray irises.


    "My knowledge on the matter regarding naming a beach is not advanced; yet, I know that they are normally named after an important figure or an event that marked history; Pirate Bay is a new one to me, I have to admit." She rests her hand on the wheel weakly as she turns to face me completely, using the time we are stuck in traffic, which, by the look of the road, seems to be a minimum of ten minutes until we get to where we want to. "Do you know the story behind it, Detective?"


    If this is an attempt to rid the car of the constant sound of Yui playing with Pirate in the backseat, clearly leaving the poor woman stuck with them to deal with it against her own choice, or if this comes from her really wanting to know about the city, nonetheless, I nod my head and look at my hands, which stay placed on my lap.


    "Yeah, everyone in this city knows the story behind it; you can say it was something that truly marked our history books. A warning, though: the story is not a happy one, so I''ll ask, are you sure you want to know?"


    "I would, yes; unless it is something hard for you to talk about, so don''t feel pressured to tell me if you don''t want to."


    I shake my head and look at her with a smile, one that I have to force upon my lips to push the disgust it brings away from my head.


    "Well, a long, long time ago, when pirates lived their days of glory on the sea¡ªthe golden age of piracy¡ªsailing away from home to steal treasure and live adventures, most of the places worked on laws to stop them, for once tagging them as criminals for the havoc they created in every location they stopped by; but like I said, most cities, not all. Our city¡ªHavenport, or whatever name it was back then¡ªwas a very famous harbor to those same pirates who sought cities to hide their treasures from other pirates and the law, and too, it was famous for being a good place for them to lay low after a heist. The pirates drank all day, and by night, they rapped any woman who was unlucky enough to walk the streets while they were around; because of that, many women were impregnated and left by the pirates alone as they sailed away after a while; that led to the creation of the oldest orphanage in the city, one that used to be functional until some years ago: The Red Roses Garden. It is said that the orphans back then used to sit on the beach to wait, watching the waves come and go, dreaming awake of one day seeing the pirates return so they could meet their fathers; the name was actually given by those same kids and adopted as official a while after."


    Telling the story, I even forget to hold that same smile I was trying to use as a mask; the expression on my face I can''t see or feel, but by the woman''s face looking at me, attentively listening, I can tell it isn''t a good one.


    "That is, indeed, a sad story; I''m sorry for letting my curiosity get the best of me, detective."


    "Oh, no, please don''t say that; it''s fine, really; it is just something hard to swallow sometimes. Everyone in the city shares the same sentiment of wanting to forget it; even so, it is part of our story; it''s sad to say, but if it wasn''t for that, the orphanage would have never come to be, and they did more than enough good to compensate for a wrongdoing that wasn''t even theirs to begin with. "


    "Did you..." On Dalia''s face, she keeps an expression that tells me she is fighting herself not to ask more; even so, the part of her who wants to ask something seems to win by the way her hands come to strengthen their hold on the wheel. "Did you know the orphanage well before it was closed? Once more, please don''t feel obliged to answer my question."


    Of all the things I could do to answer it, ranging from staying quiet, sharing some more with her, or smiling and nodding my head to divert her attention from it, my instinct to be truthful, like with her to ask, takes the better hand.


    "Yes, you can say I do." Even with an honest answer, I make sure to present myself as less open to diving deeper into this topic.


    Out of nowhere, a kick on Dalia''s seat steals both our attention, and when I look at Yui, the person who kicked it, I notice they start gesturing something for Dalia that I can''t quite grasp; I assume they ask for them to stop or control herself before they just go back to petting the golden.


    To our luck¡ªbut mostly mine¡ªthe road ahead starts to come to life again, and soon enough we can move forward again; the conversation is forgotten like a cigarette butt thrown out of the window.


    <hr>

 Day 3: -Pirate Bay-

    Day 3


    <hr>


    Out of the main road and past the train tracks, there''s a small hill that grants us a hell of a view of the sand that extends for a little while, showing that the beach isn''t very long but, comfortably so, ending on the edge of the tall mountain that holds the famous lighthouse atop, the same one that generally brings most tourists to Havenport in the first place; something relatable considering the view of the ocean and the sunset there is great to relax and perfect for asking someone''s hand.


    To the end of the small hill, the beach stairs connected to it grant us easy access to the sand, one that we don''t have to slide down. There, a path made of wood planks allows people to walk around without burning their naked feet on the hot summer sand, the same path is separated by some big rocks stacked atop one another; rocks that long have fallen from the mountain''s side and used for something new. All are kept in place carefully by some wood posts that stay there to make sure no kid can manage to, accidentally, dislocate one of the heavy rocks¡ªeven if I don''t know how they would¡ªand hurt themselves.


    "Hey, earth to Detective, are you with us still?" Yui snaps their finger in front of my face to grab my attention, joined by Pirate''s anxious barks that manage to break me away from my own head; without even noticing, I leaned against the car and dozed off. "Come on, we don''t have any time to lose; the beach awaits us."


    Before answering, I take a look around and notice Dalia and Colette both taking off their extra layers and getting themselves more comfortable for the walk; Dalia takes off her long coat, calmly folds it so it doesn''t wrinkle, and leaves it at her seat to use later, leaving the unbuttoned vest and white tunic she wears at full display.


    At the same time, Colette yanks off her heavy black coat and throws it onto the passenger seat before focusing all of her mind on connecting the sleeves with their respective buttons.


    That only leaves Yui, who, when I look at them, stares back at me with a big grin and a pair of cool sunglasses hiding their eyes; one of the layers that stayed atop the black shirt of the agent is gone, which in turn makes them more prepared for this walk.


    "Is it normal for you to walk around with a pair of sunglasses in your pocket at all times?" Crossing my arms against my chest, I ask Yui while tilting my head curiously, making sure to let a smile take my lips, as when I stop to look more closely at them, it becomes easy to notice how much of a matrix character they resemble right now.


    "What can I say? I look good as fuck with them; they are very comfortable, and, most importantly, they fit well in my pockets and my face. Now that you pointed it out, I''ll share with you the best idea ever in the history of ideas, one fresh out of my head: you need to buy your dog a pair; oh, and when you do, I want the pictures sent to me asap. Treat it as an emergency."


    Meanwhile, as we both lose ourselves in our casual talk, Dalia and Colette finish locking up the car and start walking to the stairs in silence, one without looking back and the other turning to address us. Before they can though, Yui notices that everyone is prepared to go down and mostly on their way, and so loses no time in running with Pirate to get there first, starting a race of their own volition.


    "See you down there, slow legs, Detective; my new friend and I have an appointment with a fun time." They run down the stairs, managing to do the expected and miss one step and almost fall, only to act like nothing happened and move on even when clearly they freeze in place for half a second, while the dog behind them almost slides the steps down in his unthinking hurry.


    The scene prompts me to let out a single, quiet chuckle as one of my hands finds comfort inside my shorts'' pockets, and the other I use to cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing more. "It impresses me how they can be so clumsy and lucky at the same time; care to share with me the secret to their ways?"


    Surprise befalls Dalia for a moment as the question leaves me and reaches her before the expression on her face matches mine. "Oh, believe me, Detective, I too wished to know the secrets to such an imprudent lifestyle and how it manages to disentangle itself from the check people like you and I normally pay. Woefully, I reached long ago the belief that those secrets were lost to time. Yet, I believe that we are not missing anything of great importance by not knowing those ways."


    "If you say so, then I''ll believe it; still, I have to say: how much easier would this case be if we had all their luck." My feet guide me forward towards the stairs, then right behind me, Dalia follows; the view below shows me that it is better to catch up with the others, especially with Yui, who runs to the far end of the beach.


    A salty breeze passes us by the moment we reach the end of the stairs, one that insists for a moment, turning from soft to strong briskly; by it, I''m forced to manage the curls of my hair that are manipulated by it, pushing them away from my face when they fight me; usually, this type of wind means a change; it can be rain, snow¡ªeven if unlikely this far into the winter¡ªor gray skies, and what bothers me is not seeing a sign of any of those in the distance.


    Stepping on the sand, the sandals prove to be a good decision; even if the sun isn''t at full heat, the sand absorbs all it can and creates a pleasant warmness to the touch, and because of its dryness, every time I pull my feet away from it to step forward, a bunch of sand comes with and gets underneath my soles¡ªI sure appreciate not getting a bunch of it on my boots.


    Gazing at Colette in the distance, I see something that I almost forgot was here; when I was forced to work on cleaning the beach, they placed a set of three benches on it for us to sit and rest for a bit; even after the project ended, I''m glad to see the benches still lingered around.


    The woman in question doesn''t even walk much on the sand before sitting tiredly on the bench and losing her eyes on the waves; her shoulders seem less tense now that I look at them; like she dropped the heavy, invisible weights she carries around beside her to be left out of mind for this time. She entwines her fingers together, bends her back further on the rest, and stays there like a statue¡ªone with deep, vivid black eyes that reflect the sun, as well as the scar underneath the left one that, for a moment, makes me feel the pain it emanates ever so close.


    Something inside of me tells me to talk to the woman, maybe because of how her expression feels human¡ªfragile¡ªor maybe the unusualness of this situation just creates a sense that I have to help somehow, but it all serves for nothing because the moment I move in her direction instinctively, a hand stops me gently, pulling me back enough that the person can stop in front of me.


    "I''m sorry, Detective, but would you mind entertaining and keeping an eye on Yui so they don''t hurt themselves or get lost? I wish to speak alone with Colette if I can." Her request just makes sense; better for a person she knows to go there than I, someone she met two days ago¡ªthis thing in me that pulses with a will to try to solve everything and help all the time sometimes needs to be chained down, or else I might find myself doing something that I shouldn''t.


    "Oh, sure; I''ll go after them. Good luck with your conversation with her." My free hand that extended away from my pocket inches its way back when I''m stopped, so I step back and let Dalia walk to the bench as I close my eyes and breathe in the salty air before walking away to where I last saw Yui.


    The detective walks into the distance without any more words, and Dalia finds herself watching this with a beholden expression, on her head passing the thoughts of how easy to deal with is the small town woman; the detective listens when she asks for something without clicking her tongue aggrievedly or complaining loudly and insistently; she''s mindful of people''s skills and thinks before choosing someone to accompany her, doing things by the book, and too, she is willing to try getting closer to them even if there are a million reasons to the contrary, one of them being how she caught them on the mill; even if she doesn''t connected the points yet, the doubts on her head don''t impede her from approaching the agents on the slightest¡ªnow that is something irregular for the woman.


    From her experience on similar cases, even if there aren''t that many, standing maybe at two or three similar works, law enforcement is a pain to deal with; most like to play lone wolf and end up forgetting they are even there, and the others who don''t, most of the time, are too proud to accept a helping hand, meaning more work on politics falling onto their handler''s shoulders.


    Now, Dalia''s eyes don''t just stay in one place; in fact, they wander on the clear path the woman''s shirt leaves of her shoulder blades, the curve of her neck, and how her curls sway gorgeously with every step. To the agent, this is the most unusual of them all; for her to find herself this lost in someone''s appearance is akin to the feeling of encountering a book with a missing cover in your room that you don''t remember buying; somewhat unnerving and somewhat fascinating, especially to a curious being like her, who feeds on knowledge and the unknown.


    Nonetheless, the agent forces herself to unglue her gaze from the detective''s distant figure and back to the other object of her curiosity¡ªthe woman who sits on the bench with a troubling expression, one that screams that something is gnawing on her mind, something that, as usual, she might not talk about in full, but trying never grows tiring.


    There isn''t a single reaction from Colette when she sees Dalia getting closer to her; instead, she moves to the side like this is routine, granting the woman space to sit down beside her without protest¡ªthe same space which the agent loses no time in taking as she sits down sedately with a thankful silence.


    "I don''t like this." Losing no time, without ceremony, Colette announces part of what is troubling her mind.


    "I believe this was to be expected." A soft laugh escapes Dalia as she places one hand atop the other on her thighs, resting her back comfortably against the bench''s rest as her gaze is lost on the coming waves as they meet the shore. "Your dissatisfaction with this outcome was clear from the start; however, you have to admit this isn''t an inopportune outcome; we can be at ease knowing that¡ª"


    "''Knowing that the target will come even if we don''t seek it.''" The woman completes the other''s words, re-assembling the weights back to her shoulder as a displeased growl leaves her lips. "This is what I dislike."


    Only two reasons could prompt a woman like Colette to say that, one being the uneasiness that comes with the lack of effort to achieve something, the easiness of it being a bad sign, and the other is less likely; being friends for a while, Dalia can see that.


    "We will stop the vampire before he can terrorize this city anymore, then we will be able to leave and go back to our normal lives; of course, that doesn''t mean we will let our guards falter in the crucial moment, that I''m sure knowing you. Your worry about the unit''s safety would never let us do something like that."


    "Temporary as it might be, the woman you brought into this is our responsibility now. We use her as bait, then she dies, and that''ll be on us."


    "My plan is not to throw her to the man''s fangs if that is what you''re insinuating¡ª"


    "Then what is?"


    "I am thinking of that; you can''t expect me to come up with something in such a short amount of¡ª"


    "You plan to tell her?"


    "What? No! She might be unlike the other humans we''ve met; she even may be able to handle the truth and not be scared or hate us, but this would be¡ª"


    "So you considered it?"


    No answer leaves Dalia''s mouth for a good moment; she breathes in deeply, calming her itching fingers, regaining control as she is expected to do; a leader who loses their cool is not reliable at all, and that is the weight she carries¡ªresponsibility.


    "I did; still do." She admits in a low tone, finally letting down the mask she keeps of control faced by her friend. "Yui believes that hiding evidence from the detective is counterintuitive, and part of me believes that what we are doing here is wrong. You''re right though, the detective is our responsibility; she gets hurt, and that is on...me. Still, let me ask you something in return: when was the last time you saw Yui talk as much as they are doing now with someone who isn''t us? When last did you see them laugh, smile, and flirt so carelessly? It might be hard to admit, but being near this human is doing good for us¡ªa good we sure needed."


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Now the one in silence is Colette, who frowns and hardens the entwine of her fingers until a cracking sound can be heard from the bubbles that pop in the stressed joints; inevitably, the woman sighs and shakes her head in defeat.


    "You''re the leader; I''ll be beside you whatever you choose to do; just remember: Our selfishness can steal the normal aspect of her life forever; that is something you won''t want on your head."


    With those last words, the conversation ends, and both stay in silence as they digest each other''s opinions and points; time passes, and the waves come and go like thoughts that are cursed to the same fate.


    Walking and walking ever so close to the mountain in slow steps, eyes locked on the far end of the beach, where the sand meets the rocks as siblings, where the small entrance to a cave system leads to a hidden pool that in some parts of the year is touched dearly by the moonlight is visible to anyone''s prying eyes, a hidden secret of those who live in the city, keeping it just for ourselves.


    There, near the entrance of the cave, a few meters away from it, I gaze at a scene I didn''t expect from someone so energetic as Yui; they sit on the ground, not caring if they are gathering the sand on their clothes as Pirate lays beside them lazily. One of Yui''s hands stays unmoving on the dog''s head, keeping him company as he dozes away.


    They look at the waves with a mix of deep calmness and unflavoured remanence.


    I''m sure they notice me approaching and choose not to say anything; instead, Yui just closes both eyes and allows a grin to take over their lips; the moment I get to their side, I sigh and let gravity bring me down to the sand until I''m sitting down side to side with them.


    Pirate raises his head to the sound, looks at me, yawns, and proceeds to return to his princess sleep; not the best guard dog there is, but he covers this fact with his charm.


    "Seriously, I can''t deal with this anymore; ever since you guys appeared, the times and quantity of clothes I have to wash just keep increasing and increasing; maybe I''ll bill your agency about my water costs." My comment comes laced with a bad act of seriousness, even when I put a lot of effort into the disappointed shake of my head. I laugh with a smile, and they laugh quietly, but no words leave their mouth, unlike what I was expecting¡ªthat being a sassy or funny comment, so I keep my expression but change my tone to a more serious one. "Care to share what is plaguing your head? I might not be the best person for this, but I can hear you."


    "Oh, you asking because of my face, right?" They point to their face and shake their head with a carefree expression before leaning back and placing their hands behind them on the sand so they are in a more comfortable position. "Nah, I''m fine; it is just uncommon of us to stop in places like this, so I''m letting the sensations sink in my memory so I don''t forget this place any time soon."


    "I talked to Dalia yesterday about something like that; she told me you guys don''t leave the city too much. I''m happy you''re enjoying the city while you guys are still around."


    Appreciatively, the person looks at me before their expression bitters ever so slightly; a dry laugh escapes their lips as they munch over a thought. "You just reminded me about that; I''m not going to lie; if I could choose to linger around, I would. It is a bitch to remember that once this case is over, we are gone. Ugh!" Yui groans and rubs their face with the back of their hand, mindful of the sand on their palms. "All other units suck dry our bosses so they can get to stay wherever they want to, but us, no, we can''t because we are not, quote on quote, "Ready for the responsibility it comes with a decision like that," so we get to be pushed around for laughs. Fuck, all I wanted was to stay around; maybe work more cases with you."


    Their reaction is somewhat cute, I have to admit; yes, there exists a certain seriousness and stress lingering in each sentence, but regardless of that, it is nice to hear them say they appreciate me to the point they would like to stay around.


    "Look, being adults means not getting what we want and having to deal with that." My comment is met with a sigh from them, one that tells me they heard that before at least a million times; there is even some disappointment cleverly hidden in it¡ªbut I''m not done yet. "Nonetheless, you guys are going to be out there, doing awesome work, knowing that all you did here helped a small-town detective to become a little better¡ªsomething she will never forget." I guide one hand to my hair and take off the blue flower hairpin from between my curls before placing my free hand on their shoulder and moving them ever so slightly so I have access to their front. "Besides, whenever you guys can get a vacation, I''ll be sure to talk to some friends to get you some discounts; at least till then, you''ll have something so you don''t forget neither about the beach nor about me."


    Gently, I place the flower pin on the chest pocket of their jacket, adjusting it nicely and carefully, all while their eyes lock on my face as I focus on the placement of the accessory.


    Some free strands of their hair float with the wind, and their eyes shine like in the harbor, only this time almost allowing me to see what''s about that strange glow before they notice it and look away, that on its own grants me a closer look to another thing I''ve been curious about, the small scars embellishing their face, closed yet still vividly hurt; that view for some reasons saddens me, not because of sympathy alone, but more like I can feel what they felt once, or maybe what they still hold down, hidden on the depths so it doesn''t resurface.


    This is the most vulnerable I think they can get, which is exemplified by the lack of a flirt or any words at all; they take a moment but then open their mouth, still avoiding my gaze. I''m sure when I see their expression in full they want to tell me something important.


    "Detective..." They moan softly, just above a whisper not to be considered a wisp of wind.


    The chance for them to talk is ceased as the phone resting in my pocket rings, warning me someone is calling, and because I don''t have many contacts added, whoever it is sure has to do with work.


    "I''m sorry, Yui; I have to take this one. Would you mind if I¡ª"


    "Yeah, yeah, sure; you can take it, no problem. I''ll actually take the opportunity to join the others, so... you know where to find me and your dog." They smile awkwardly and sign for me to take my call.


    "Perfect, I promise this won''t be long, so try not to forget what you wanted to say. Again, sorry."


    In a hurry, I pull the phone out of my pocket as a knight pulls a sword, seeing the name of the caller stamped atop; for Astero to be calling me, means something important. In quick steps, I distance myself from Yui as they walk away.


    Picking up the call, I place the phone to my ear and start walking in a perfect, continuous circle, leaving a trail in the sand.


    "Hey Astero, something happened? Tell me someone managed to get the car out of the waters already."


    "Yes, nothing of great importance; the car you found in the waters of the harbor was already retrieved by Hanna and her tow truck. I''m staying at her workshop alone to work some clues out of it, as I can''t take the car downstairs to my lab at the station without breaking the front door. I just wanted to tell you in case you need me for something that I won''t be back so soon."


    "Nice work, I''ll be getting back to the station in at least half an hour; I''m just finishing some stuff; about the car: the killer was driving it before it fell; you think there is anything you can find in it to help me out?"


    "I wouldn''t advise getting your hopes up; water is the number one enemy of evidence after time; but if I find something, I''ll message you immediately. Like I said, I just called to keep you updated; unfortunately, if we have a chance to get anything from it, I must get back to work now."


    "Okay, good luck to you; just one more thing, tell Hanna I''m thankful for her help today. I can''t imagine how we would have been able to get the car out of the waters if it wasn''t for her."


    "Leave it to me; I''ll inform her of your gratitude as soon as she returns; until later, Olivia, and if we don''t get to see each other today, pass by my lab tomorrow."


    Astero hangs up the call, and I''m left back to the silence of the beach, where only the sound of the wind and waves can be heard¡ªalmost eerie, almost calming.


    I put the phone back in my pocket and am quick to turn around and walk back to join the agents; the problem? The moment I reach the bench where Colette was sitting, there is not a sign of any of the agents around, and when I look in the distance, where their SUV was, atop the hill, there is not even a shadow of it.


    A frown takes over my expression until I hear a familiar bark to my right, and stopping to look at it, I find Pirate, with his leash carefully placed on a big stick lodged on the sand; he sits there, wagging his tail as he waits for me to approach.


    Of course, I lose no time in approaching him and taking his leash off the stick, which instantly gives him the freedom to bite the thing and get it off the sand; because of that, I notice that two steps of distance from it lie what looks like words written on the sand.


    Focusing on the words, it reads: "Our boss called, so we needed to bail. Sorry about that. Here''s my number if you need some company later." There is a smiley face at the end of the words and a sequence of numbers; hurriedly, I add the contact before Pirate runs over the words and makes them unreadable.


    "Come, boy; let''s get you back home. Mama needs to go back to work." The dog tilts his head and doesn''t look too excited to go back; the reason is pretty obvious; letting him take everything he finds out on the walk to the house is not good, so we reprehend him when he does, but this time I''ll allow it. "You can take the stick with you."


    I gesture as I sigh defeated, and he seems to understand, springing up back to full energy as I grab his leash and start leading us to the road where we can endure the long walk back home; the moment I do that and turn away from the waves fully, it feels like my sandals catch something, almost making me fall in the process, having to jump on one leg two times before opening my arms to balance myself.


    On the sand, the item that almost made me eat a handful of sand awkwardly is revealed to be a simple necklace, made of what looks to be old shoelaces in good condition that hold a pendant made of copper.


    My curiosity beats me to it, and when I notice I''m already with the item in hand and crouched down after freeing it from a hard-to-lift rock buried in the sand, it manages to make me groan from the effort to pull it out.


    Looking at it closely, the copper pendant is circular and clearly not the work of a machine by how some hammer marks can be seen on the edges, imperfectly perfect; on the center, almost as if someone used a knife to carve on it, the symbol of what looks to be a flower with part of the centerpiece broken stares back at me, and because it is missing a piece, I can''t tell exactly what type of flower it is supposed to be; I just know it looks familiar for some reason I can''t point out.


    Maybe it is some show on a streaming platform or whatever that I might have seen late at night at some point.


    Thinking someone, a tourist perhaps, must have dropped it here, I take it, and instead of placing it in my pocket with the chance of forgetting about it, I give it a little clean and wrap it around my wrist so I don''t forget to put it on the station''s lost and found; when I get back to my feet, a sudden feeling of coldness, like the sensation from when I was under the water earlier, surrounds me, stealing my senses momentarily as I feel like I''m drowning; that until it all goes away as it came and I realize I''m sweating cold and breathing raggedly.


    Pirate''s leash on my hand is pulled as he continues walking and forces me to snap out of it to follow, not caring if I need a moment, and with a confused mind and no other option, I follow on autopilot until what happened is forgotten by my mind.


    <hr>

 Day 3: -Oscen-

    Day 3


    <hr>


    There aren''t many moments that beat that second where you finish a very long and detailed report after spending most of your day seated on a very uncomfortable office chair, to the point you''re sure the format of it changed forever to accommodate you better; words written and displayed on the old, square and yellowed monitor in front of me, where every line and pixel of the screen can be seen shifting up and down; words that represent a victory not only for me in a professional sense, but to this town''s good folks, who never asked to be afraid of a nameless and faceless man, that now will have a face to blame of the one who''s been terrorizing their days and nights.


    Soon, the hope is that even the name will be plastered on every single TV screen around the big cities; hell, maybe even the whole country will know. If he wanted to escape, to move and kill again, this will make sure to create in him¡ªeven when trying to buy a cereal bar at a gas station¡ªa sense of fear of being caught, a fraction of the fear people had to feel because of his horrendous action.


    Now, all that is missing to end this file is the information I can gather from the phone I found on the second victim''s car, the same that now lies surely fully dry in my bedroom, just waiting to have the battery swapped to maybe¡ªwith a silver line of hope¡ªreveal to me some last piece I need to start this manhunt for good. If I succeed, I''ll prove that Reele was right to trust me, and too, it will be a major middle finger to the mayor.


    Turning on the chair, my gaze falls on my evidence board across the office, a picture is painted almost clearly, not all finished yet, but enough to make some assumptions almost fully confirmed; first, a connection between the killer and Galileo Biotech¡ªprobably someone who was close to Andrey Kolesov or a worker there¡ªis solid; this explains why they stole the equipment and how they knew about it being on the warehouse. The killer used the stolen equipment from the harbor to kill both victims in a gruesome and disgusting way, proving once more he knew how to operate them.


    Why was Melinda in the city? I say she was on vacation, out to drink away from the city and from her job; I find it hard to believe she knew what was going to happen, and the flip phone on her boot can be because her father was a cautious person and so he passed that habit down to her.


    The reason behind the death of Melinda Kolesov is unknown; revenge can be a good assumption though; maybe the killer and Andrey had a fight, maybe a business discordance, and that led to all of this.


    Now, Andrey''s death is a little easier to point to as vengeance for how much more effort was put into butchering his corpse to pieces and putting him together with wires, and the flower on his hand is probably a symbol, something he either planned to use as identification for the killings he would soon commit or have already committed.


    In any way, he first killed Melinda and left her body on the streets to be found on purpose, not for us but for the news to reach the father. Then, Andrey spent his drinking at the bar after hearing the news, something confirmed by Brutus; he then got out in the evening with his car and drove all the way to find the killer in the mill; there he was killed and probably the body was hidden.


    I got to the scene soon after and saw the shadowed figures fighting, something I don''t mention in the report, and probably after the fight that he ran away, he ended up returning later on to prepare Andrey''s body. After that, he waited a whole day to dump the car in the harbor because he may have thought Andrey had something on the car that could connect them both, and that was probably the phone¡ªthe same one I think they talked of meeting in the mill on the day Andrey died.


    This moment of piecing together things ends, and I return my focus to the pen drive connected to the computer; a copy of the file is transferred to it, so later, after either fixing the flip phone or breaking it for good, I''m able to finish the report and in the same moment send it to the sergeant''s email.


    The notification on the screen tells me the transfer is complete, so I yank it off the computer and place it carefully in the same pocket my phone is in. Hitting the on/off button of the PC, the almost jet''s turbine sound its old, tired fans create slowly dies down, granting my ears the peaceful silence they deserve.


    Today I earned the right to enjoy a couple of drinks, that is for sure; I would be more content if I could go accompanied by Mel and Astero, the devil and angel on my shoulders, but one is on patrol right now so she doesn''t answer her phone, and the other is still in Hanna''s workshop, probably soon to be kicked off by her so she can close shop.


    To keep my high spirit, I don''t allow it to put me down, especially as Brutus is a good company as well; well, more when he isn''t advising the drunk me that one last drink never killed anyone; the problem is that he always manages to make me chug down one more, only to have a killer headache in the morning.


    This time, though, I have a good plan to avoid that outcome.


    Rising from the office chair, it is like a piece of my soul stays behind as my back cracks uncomfortably and loudly, reverberating in the room; the smell of microwaved food hits me, not all disgusting yet still not pleasing; when I look at the small trashcan with the lid open, I see the plastic container that held the food, and on top of the thing a brand name I can''t even bother myself to care enough to read, so with my feet, I lazily kick the lid close and give one last look around to make sure everything is fine before leaving the room and turning off the lights.


    One thing I''ll never be able to not notice from now on is how creepy the station becomes when no one is around.


    I mean, it has all the things you expect from a police station: the office area, the many boxes and coffee cups on top of various tables just waiting to be thrown away, and the smell of cigarettes when nearing the windows.


    Even so, at this moment, with everyone so occupied, having only about three people walking around at different times makes me notice the emptiness created by the lack of the usual loud chattering of the officers, which is replaced by the creaking of the old wooden floors that cries on the night, never being one hundred percent repaired, reminding me once more that this place used to be a mansion and was never built to be anything else.


    I guess that I should be happy that once I leave the office area, holding my hoodie closer to my body, I spot a familiar face, ready to leave the station exactly as I am; the mundane sound of the dangling keys on her hands tells me she probably was about to either call me out to lock the building or hand me the keys so I could do it on my own time.


    "Oh, hey Anja; was everything okay around here today?" The question leaves me with a casual smile to accompany it.


    I consciously stop on the heavy wooden door and watch as she gathers a leather traveler''s backpack from behind her work table and pulls it out of hiding. Once that happens, I can see the clear sewn marks from many travels before she quickly wears it.


    "Yeah, I guess today was a slow day; the only person who came by was the guy who works in the lab, your strange friend that uses glasses; he stopped by his office to grab some equipment with the handywoman." She talks while adjusting the backpack on her back, and when she is done, she gestures towards the door, so we continue talking as we leave. "That reminds me; she took advantage she had to come around anyway to have a look at the coffee machine for you; she said something about the outlet burning a pin from the power cord; I didn''t get much; I just know she got a box from her car and managed to fix it."


    "Okay, that''s good; maybe with that some of the officers will stop by more tomorrow. Thanks again." Watching her lock the station door reminds me of a certain fact that has me tilting my head with worry. "Wait, isn''t the sergeant in his office right now? If you lock the station, how will he manage to go home?"


    "He told me to do this because he has a spare copy of the key; good for me that I don''t have to wait for him to leave his office; that guy stays there all day and just leaves to use the bathroom or eat, and that is when he does." Once the key creates a clicking sound from the door, indicating that it is locked, Anja gives it one pull just to be sure as her free hand places the key in the side pocket of her backpack. "The mayor says he is an example of a good working man; I''m sure the man in question isn''t even half-alive to begin with."


    "Eddie had some troubles in paradise a few years back; the detective before me, Detective Reele, told me about it once. I don''t remember much, just some vague words about a fight between the sergeant and his second ex-wife; I can be wrong, but if my memory doesn''t fail me, it was something to do with Ed once being a painter, a good one, but things never clicked right to him, and so that didn''t fly well, or at all. His ex-wife apparently wanted to leave the city with him to start over, but he didn''t want to."


    Telling this story makes the air around us a bit sad, so I''m quick to change the subject.


    "If you''re going to the mayor''s house, I can give you a lift there."


    "Thanks, but I''m fine; I don''t plan to sleep at the mayor''s house; I''m going to my mom''s apartment tonight, and because it is a fifteen-minute walk away from here, I''ll walk. I''ll keep her company this weekend; help her unpack the rest of her things."


    "Enjoy your walk then; just please, Anja, be careful on the way there. If possible, go through the residential area; take the coneflower avenue; more people are walking there at this hour."


    "Sure, I was planning to go through the commercial hub street, but if you say to take this other avenue, then yeah, I''ll go through there." The girl nods her head appreciatively of my suggestion and looks at the time on her phone; on her face is the frown of someone who is on the clock. "I''ll be going now; night detective."


    I nod my head to the girl as she starts to disappear on the lowly illuminated street that extends to the residential area; her form takes a while, but soon I''m not able to see her anymore. Instead of standing around in the coldness of the night, I take my cue and move to the parking lot, ready to grab my car and go to the bar to warm myself up with some good conversation and booze.


    The moment I arrive at the Two Horned Betsy''s parking lot, I slide swiftly out of my car and step backward so my back can close the door, choosing to keep my focus solely on my phone¡ªmostly on an idea I had on the way here while I passed down the few light poles still working around the main street, one that may be interesting to explore: now that I have the agent''s number, I could ask if they want to meet in the bar, I guess; ultimately though, I stare at the screen with a sigh, leaving my locked lips like the wind out of a bottle, mind torn painfully between pressing the send button or not as my feet still carry me forward despite me not thinking of walking.


    A single droplet of water falls from the skies, splattering itself softly on top of my phone''s screen, bringing my attention back to my surroundings: the wild wind on the beach, I see now; it was a warning to the black clouds, filled to the brim with a copious amount of cold water, bringing a promise of rain that may last all night, even still being there on the morning by the way it roars with thunder; a screaming god, its rage trembling the cement beneath my feet, loud enough to make the nocturnal birds fly away from the park one street down towards the forest.


    Passing by a stranger''s smelly car with my nose held between my fingers, a bright yellow, expensive Ferrari, one that I remember belonging to the agent''s boss, Julia Blue, surprises me; talking about her, from the open window of the driver''s seat, I can see a hand thrown out, belonging to none other than the woman, securing a lit cigarette dearly in between fingers as she talks to someone, apparently on her phone.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    It isn''t my choice to hear her conversation, even if a part of me is drawn to sticking my nose where I don''t need to be, yet it happens anyway¡ªnot because I want to, driven by my curiosity, no, in truth it happens because I need it.


    "Yes, I am very aware of that without you reminding me constantly, okay, dear? I already told you that the situation is under control. The mayor guy was the easiest to deal with; he''s just an old man with political ties, too anxious to make more friends from outside, so I just made a few promises and we got full clearance to operate."


    These drunken-imbued words from hers seep deep into my mind like a parasite, clawing and chewing on all my memories of what has happened until this very moment where I freeze; questions ferment like alcohol from around my mind, so many that I fear blowing a blood vessel.


    The woman appears to not have any intention to drive away; it looks more like she stooped to have some privacy¡ªone that I interfere with.


    Opening the car''s door, she puts one foot outside and takes a deep, filling drag from her dying cigarette, blowing the smoke out in one uniform exhale that dissipates away in the night as she hears the person on the other side of the line attentively.


    "The police department? There is nothing too impressive about it worth talking about. Of all the workers there, only their tech specialist, the one I sent you the file earlier, and their detective are people to keep an eye on. All of their evidence that could be bad for us was already dealt with¡ªlike our werewolf''s blood they got hold of¡ªthanks to your quick investigation into what lab they sent problematic samples to. I can''t begin to imagine what would have happened if we didn''t do anything; a leak like this and I would be screwed with the elders."


    The woman, Julia, steps out of the car, losing her balance for a moment, missing her footing on the ground, and slamming her back against the car as a result.


    That is a wake-up call for my body, which just stayed there until now. Rain starts to pour from the skies, building slowly into something major; the coldness of the drops seeping through my clothes, wetting my hair and shoulders, has me wanting to cry alongside the clouds.


    I dodge away from view until I''m behind the smelly car and stick my head just enough to see where the woman stands in the rain, seeing that she still leans against the yellow vehicle as she shows some difficulty focusing on the call and walking at the same time.


    "Why do you want to know about their detective? I... okay, I understand, ma''am. The woman has some decent instincts, still unrefined though; to our luck, she seems careful enough to not jump the gun at anything without full proof, so I think once this is over the mill incident will be forgotten by her; if not, we will deal with that shortly. I heard my puppies were able to make some good progress with her; do you believe they all got out to walk with her on a beach around here? Yeah, and they say I''m the one enjoying this city a little too much because I stopped to indulge myself with the locals..."


    Her voice fades the more she walks in meeting with the distance, stumbling her way out of the rain, seeking refuge from it on the bar, as I, incredulously, look at a fixed point on the ground, right where the water pouring from the sky is sucked by an old manhole cover that clearly can''t keep up with the sheer volume, mirroring very well my state of mind.


    My feelings fluctuate between the pain from this betrayal, from people that I was beginning to willingly fight my instincts so I could put my trust in; the deep, burning anger that has me closing my fists so tight that my nails sink into the frail skin of my palm, drawing blood that is quickly wiped by the falling rain; and lastly, the fear that eats away at me from the revelation, the final nail in the coffin, a dread that has me accepting that what I saw on the mill was true, like, ''true'' true: the supernatural may exist.


    Wait, can I trust the woman''s words? She can be a nut job after all.


    No, that is unlikely; sure, they might have lied about why they are here, but they are from a branch of the federal agency system; unless they aren''t, but that... what would that even mean to my investigation? Closed door, open windows? I would have rethought all that I have uncovered to this point¡ªall the conclusions¡ªeverything.


    No, there is no need for that; the man I saw on the camera is the killer, one hundred percent; that hasn''t changed; after all, the evidence doesn''t lie, that I can trust in, but this agency connection to him is something to look further into.


    My stomach twists and turns, my face feels hot, and my blood boils despite the coldness of my wet clothes; what do I even do now? I can only manage to think logically for some more seconds before a fuse blows up.


    To pull me out of my feelings, the nagging alert of a pair of eyes locked on my form has me jumping away from the car, hands falling to my side, meeting the unforgiving safety of the metal grip of a gun, my gun.


    My eyes travel all over the place, scanning every part of the parking lot, looking for someone peering from a hiding spot behind or underneath the cars to the rooftop of the buildings around¡ªa worthless loss of sanity and time as I find nothing anywhere; yet, the feeling just doesn''t go away.


    A raven cries in the distance, sounding creepily like a laugh, an omen that I''m quick to act upon as I turn around on my feet and rush back to my car''s direction, opening the door on the exact second I get to it only to jump onto the driver''s seat and fiddle my way into bringing it to life before stepping my feet on the gas, planning to go anywhere but here.


    I''ll need some time to think and a good, hot coffee to help me out.


    Arriving in front of my house, the cry from the skies becomes more and more insistent¡ªone of the worst rains of the year, for sure. Because the house is somewhat old and it doesn''t have those fancy systems to open doors, I''m forced to brave the storm and open the garage door manually to hide my car from the falling water.


    With that done, I anxiously rush to the door leading to the corridor between the living room and the kitchen; heavy breathing accompanies me through and through with each step; my head heavies, my eyes feel weak and tired, and my strength seems to have been drained away almost completely due to the energy it costs to keep my million thoughts at bay; I guess a girl like me can''t dream of controlling the whole ocean as it comes crashing by.


    Moving to the living room, I expected to find it empty; that is why I didn''t even think of controlling the steps I take, allowing each to echo thunderously and listlessly, but I''m proven wrong to have assumed that when my eyes fall on the sofa adorning its middle and notice a figure laid there, hands hanging from the edge of the pillows while soft snoring sounds escape their half-open mouth, where a river of droll meets the sofa''s material.


    A red mark can be seen forming on Melissa''s face from how sluggishly she lays there; it is easy to notice how tired she is, not only by how she doesn''t care about what sleeping position she''s in¡ªinstead just spreading herself there in any way she can manage to feel less uncomfortable¡ªbut more because of the two dark circles once hidden by some makeup that can be seen at full when the low light of the floor lamp that stands at her side reveals that to me.


    A fluffy ball of golden hair habits a spot on the floor beside the sofa''s legs, resting with his back just high enough to cause a finger of Mel''s to be entwined with Pirate''s hair; approaching them both, the golden raises one ear and yawns, opening his mouth as wide as he is capable after spotting me.


    Even as he sees me, it is clear he does not want to get up; his sleepy expression tells me that much, so as a way to ask him to go back to sleep, I kneel and pet his head with one hand, lingering my fingers on the soft hairs of his and whispering words of comfort as my other one grasps the cover hidden beneath the furniture, bringing it out of the shadows.


    My attempt to make him relax once again works, which causes him to lay his head down like before and close those tired eyes; with that out of the way, I raise the cover, slapping it a bit to rid the material of any dust that might have gotten stuck to it before gently placing it atop my sister''s body, keeping her safe and cozy from the coldness that starts to form on the house, caused by the sudden weather.


    A soft groan escapes her lips as she moves slightly at the sudden comfort; I think that is the most she can do to thank me, so with a smile, I do the best thing possible and leave her to rest while I walk to the kitchen, ready to work on that coffee I want.


    Tip-toeing my way to the kitchen consumes most of the energy I had left in me, but once there, my hands move to the coffee machine like a devotee to their sanctity; only in this case, my saint offers me energy with the drawback of walking similar to a zombie for the rest of the day until my system can have a replenishment of the sweet caffeine.


    I follow the basic steps to make a coffee: Putting a filter on the machine''s basket, throwing whatever amount of coffee I think is right, pouring the water, and just then turning the thing on after checking if it is connected to the outlet in the wall.


    This is the closest to listening to an ASMR I ever got to; the sound of the sweet nectar dripping into the coffee carafe like a fountain in constant movement is soothing, to say the least; the mundane aspect of it calms me down on a significant level.


    The effect of the sound entering my ears, captured by my eardrums, as well as the smell of the brewing beans finding its way into my nasal path, is instant, more so when I move without thinking around, sitting to rest my tired body on the counter''s edge with my phone tightly clasped in hand.


    If there is a right time to do this, it is right now, so without wasting a second, I start to search on the internet for the name Julia Blue; the few results there all originate and circle around a movie from two thousand and eighteen, then I add the word agent, which ends up with no results whatsoever.


    Agent Colette, Agent Dalia, and even Agent Yui all result in either nothing or Wiki fandom sites for game characters.


    Okay, indeed, searching random federal agents'' names on the internet will usually end up with nothing, or else it would be too easy for anyone to stalk one, but there isn''t even a newspaper about a case they worked on or anything; the only way to confirm my theory would be calling their agency, and even to do that I would need Sergeant Ed; but in this rain everything I can expect is the worst call signal in history, something similar to a phone from the seventies.


    "That ended well."


    I sigh, rubbing my brows as I put my phone away, only to hear the coffee machine beep, telling me that my so-needed coffee is done.


    While my hand is occupied with filling my police station logo mug, the pen drive I brought with me shifts alongside my own movement, reminding me of its existence.


    What do I even do with it now? If anything said is true, this report will either never reach my boss or it will, and then the manhunt starts, potentially hurting many people in the process; provoking a thing that I can''t even be sure is a human anymore is not a smart move, but again, is there even one to begin with?


    Reele always said that if you feel like something is wrong, you should wait, revisit what you have, and only if things clear up should you take an important decision. This is the moment when I think these words will have to be used.


    That''s it then; tomorrow I''ll search hell and earth to try to find this man on my own, and if things go south, or if nothing happens, then the report will have to go in, no matter what the consequences end up being. Tonight, I''ll investigate more about this ''agency''; I''m already noticing that I''ll have a long night ahead of me.


    <hr>

 Midnight: -Dead Mans Blood-

    Midnight


    <hr>


    Rain falls from the skies like an attack on those who walk the earth¡ªa heavy storm brews closer to the city¡ªeach and every drop making the roads empty of life, and to those who still wished to try their luck, all after the other, consumed by the forming puddles¡ªa different type of life.


    Small insects drown in them while seeking shelter; bee wings get struck by the heavy liquid, stealing their ability to fly, rendering them to a terrible fate; and the bigger ones are washed away by the current to never be seen again.


    The three agents, safely tucked away from the new enemy in the skies, sit inside the car quietly, bathing in the fickle warmth the SUV running engine provides to their cold bodies; Dalia holds a book in hand as usual, consciousness lost and captured by the words as her eyes scan them methodically, chronically, foraging through the many cracks that form the book''s old leather body, something she gravely needs; peace of mind, away from the hard choices that befall upon her weary mind and the pain they generate.


    On the backseat, Yui shuts off the world as far away as they can with their earphone lodged deeply in their ear canal, trading the natural sound ringing outside the car infuriatingly for music, and on the screen of their phone, they play a popular mobile game in which the main character jumps over trains and police barricades to escape an inspector and his dog¡ªthe light it produces rivals the one from the thunder that crosses clouds casually.


    There''s only one of them whose eyes aren''t lost on something of little importance: Agent Colette hunts through the rain-slick window for every shadow visible on the street with her sharp eyes, her own reflection hunting the view, revealing to herself how tense she is.


    She scouts every rooftop for any sign of movement¡ªespecially since she can''t count on her sensitive scent on account of the reeking smell of wet dirt lingering all around the air¡ªand spies on the light coming from the detective''s room, a light that at this late at night should be dead and gone, but instead, it continues to boom with life. From left to right, the detective walks inside her room, unaware she is being watched by the attentive agent; on her hand is the clear outline of a flip phone being opened and closed in a constant cycle.


    A brief moment of the detective''s face and wear choice is given to Colette as, out of nowhere, the woman comes to a full stop, gaze locked on the phone in hand the moment it comes to life; something she sees catches her attention so profoundly that she can''t help but freeze while her fingers rest on the navigating buttons of the device.


    It is clear that the detective didn''t dress herself knowing someone would see her; after all, she is in the quiet solitude of her bedroom, and with the rain, no one would be crazy enough to stand out there to look at house windows, so it doesn''t come as a surprise that she would be wearing something less thought out and more casual.


    Her hair is tied up in a messy ponytail of curls and lose strands; her two brown eyes resemble strongly the mud forming on the dirt around the sidewalk, monotonously common yet vividly unique; bright even in the darkest night that is the circles underneath them, evocative despite the clear hints of stress on her expression.


    A simple white tank top with a skull wearing a crown of red prickly roses beautifies her body; the black bra she uses underneath is visible from the open area the shirt leaves on the side; easy to notice it is not something she commonly wears; even so, she does with such a familiarity that assuming that to be her most used nightwear choice becomes effortless.


    "Damn Colie, you should have told me something interesting was happening; even if I''m not the type to spy on people through their windows, I''m a fan of happy accidents." Expeditiously putting the phone and earphones away, laying them on the empty space on the backseat beside them, Yui, in a flash, moves to the window giving a view of the detective''s house, and grins widely, mischievously. "Oh, wow; who would have thought our detective had such a punk rock side to her style? And those shorts? They do bring out her legs nicely. If only I could rip them off her."


    A sigh escapes Dalia''s lips as she is forced to hear those words, which compels her to put down the book she was reading and turn in her seat to talk the agent into stopping. "Yui, I understand you''re very ''enthusiastic'' with some people; nonetheless, I feel like I should remind you that spying on her is very unprofessional. We are not here to creep on the detective; we came to keep her safe from our target, knowing that he surely will try his luck to capture her, using this bad weather to his aid. That said, we can''t lose focus on our objective." On the last words of the woman, the shift in her tone to a certain, uncharacteristic seriousness; the words exchanged on the beach between Colette and her bring out of her a new resolve.


    "Just to be sure, our main objective is capturing the bad guy, right? Because by the way you''re acting, I''m starting to think saving our little detective is a little high on your priorities list; just saying."


    "I''ll remind you, our work here is to capture our target and ensure the detective doesn''t find out the truth; for that, she has to stay alive; she''s our responsibility until this is over." Dalia''s words are motivated, different from before; truth laced in each sentence; this is the reality as she sees it.


    "It is so cute seeing you trying to warp your words into something that sounds less like you care and more like this is just work for you; you could just say you want to say her nice ass¡ª"


    Smack


    One of Colette''s hands hits the car, almost smashing the space above the glove compartment with its strength, a real test of endurance to the material used; almost hard enough to activate the airbag function; the sound and force shake the car for a fleeting moment, capturing as intended the agent''s attention fully and acceleration their hearts to a different melody with the sudden scare.


    When both hurriedly look at her for any words or signs of why the sudden motion, expecting her to say something, they are met with a growl so deep and primal that could put even the most fearless man into a shaking frenzy; her eyes shine in a low yellow light induced by anger, not directed at the agents, as they manage to find out, noticing that Colette''s gaze doesn''t fall on them, but instead, it locks at the detective''s house direction.


    The light that was turned on before now is completely dead; only the darkness is visible through her bedroom window, and that darkness brings out a silhouette standing right above the rooftop, crouched menacingly, watching not the house but the agents.


    The figure''s form is night, accompanied by two shining red moons for eyes, hungry and deadly; an invitation¡ªa warning. Whatever it is, the figure standing atop the woman''s house appearing out of nowhere shows that they either were there the whole time, using the flashy light the bedroom was casting to be out of focus, or they have grown faster from the last time they fought; this is a clear threat, showing that at any time he can snap the woman out of her room and disappear, something the agents won''t let happen that easily.


    "So, boss, what exactly will be our plan now, huh? I can''t see a universe where any decision we take doesn''t lead to a fight, so... I don''t know what to say anymore; do we take the bait or not?"


    "Our target is not giving us any other choice; he is letting the fact be very clear to us." The woman spends a good time thinking before her face steels from any expression and her hands rest on the car wheel, ready to pursue and fight. "That said, I don''t see why not take such an arrogant invitation with an open mind. If he had to spend all this time gathering enough courage to ask us to dance again, we sure wouldn''t want to be rude and decline in respect for that."


    "Hehe, round two, baby; this time I''ll break every bone I can find on him so he can''t play us for fools like last time. Tonight will be one that he will wish to not have gotten out of bed, or whatever he sleeps on."


    Making a show of cracking all of their fingers at once, Yui grins maniacally as their eyes shine with bad intentions, only different from Colette''s as they grow a deep orange color; with their shoes, they kick the SUV door open and start motioning to leave, except that before they are fully able to, Dalia coughs to add one comment.


    "We want the target alive; keep that in mind when confronting him; that is more for you, Colette. I understand you want payback for the broken jaw he gave you, but let us be smart about this."


    "That thing will be alive enough when I''m done with it," Colette replies in between growls, pushing their door open with such rage that the rapidly growing, deadly claws on to replace her fingernails scratch the metal deeply, leaving a mark that won''t be fixed so soon and sure will earn them a mouthful with their handler once they are back to base.


    While the two agents are out of the car, eyes locked on the target, just waiting for the moment when the fight will start, Dalia keeps her grip tight on the wheel''s rubbery surface, making sure to keep the engine warm as it is the only means she can keep up with the chase if the necessity to go after all of them arises; no sweat builds in her palm, her breathing pattern stays the same, and why would any of that even happen? This isn''t something new to any of them; this is what they are used to doing.


    The man standing proudly atop the house smiles disgustingly, hands hidden threateningly in the pockets of his lab coat, any intentions behind his expression well masked as he stares at the agent''s bellow, acting in such a way that he seems imposing¡ªuntouchable.


    The moonlight reflecting on his sharp fangs is redirected to the agent''s faces precisely, almost as if to blind them, except it doesn''t do a very good job at that, serving more to anger them further. Speaking any words at this point would be futile; there isn''t a way they could communicate in the heavy rain, especially if they want the detective to be kept out of this, unlike last time; one who seems to be aware of that very well is the target, who raises one hand and gestures for the agents, a message very clear at first glance: "Come after me."


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    Colette and Yui exchange knowingly gaze; this is the most obvious trap, and just understanding that would be a clear sign to rethink the next steps they will take, only that now it doesn''t matter; while he stays close to the detective''s house, the chance the truth is exposed to her stays high; that isn''t an outcome they can accept. Readying their form for the chase, the two agents plus Dalia on the car all focus their attention solely on the shadowed figure of what was once a man¡ªnow a bogey¡ªwhile they are locked in this cowboy-ish standoff, only waiting for the moment he makes his move so they can act.


    The moment doesn''t take long to happen, triggered by a flash of lightning that scratches the sky, identical to a revolver shoot, tearing the clouds apart, falling so far away into the distance, yet roaring nauseatingly, as if it did very near; it takes only a third of a second for it to kick off.


    The two agents, showing they aren''t playing anymore, reach the maximum speed they are able in the split of a blink, jumping to the nearest rooftop to race the target into the night; as for Dalia, she watches this with a deep frown, phone tightly grasped in hand, on the screen a display of Yui''s position being tracked by a mutual app they set up beforehand.


    Driving away from the residential area, the agent keeps her attention split on the empty, late-night road, watching for any animal or person who can be attempting to cross as some of the light poles fail to work properly, blinking away, barely managing to bring light to the darkness of the streets, and her phone that shines a light of its own on her face, trying very hard to steal her concentration away; it comes as a surprise when she focuses on her phone and see that the chase has ended at a maximum of what feels like a minute, with the location displayed on her phone dragging a click of her tongue out of her¡ªknowing she has to get there as fast as possible, she ignores any laws that become inconvenient to this situation and speeds away.


    What once was the beginning of a storm now fully blooms to its maximum potential; the gasp of wind that moves around becomes strong enough to get people to lose their footing, the heavy rain falls so hard that it is bound to hurt someone''s back eventually, and lastly, the light that crosses the clouds becomes more insistent, falling on the mountains at the edge of the city, opposite to where the agents lie.


    A familiar air passed by the agents, carrying with it a scent heavily coated in salt and water, strong enough to shift the rain falling on them, wetting their clothes and hair as much as it is capable; one gaze around and they can see where they stand; stacked containers of different colors blurred in the distance; the tall warehouses that bring a sense of paranoia to their system with how foisted it stands, especially as no light illuminates around them; and the worst of all by far is the lack of a single human soul in the whole harbor that put both on their guard.


    "Three whole nights, it truly is respectable how your people can''t let go of a bone once you caught it, seriously; good little soldiers like you both are the kind I hate the most." The man wearing the lab coat screams to reach the agent who pays no attention to his words and attempts to move in so they can start the rematch they waited so long for, only that they are stopped suddenly when the man snaps his fingers with an undying smile. "Perhaps you would like to know that, this time, I bought some friends to play as well; please don''t let me down by losing so easily to lowly people."


    From the man''s shadows, hidden in the tight passage between warehouses, many people walk out of it like so¡ªat least ten. Many have their eyes turned around on their skulls, habiting a state of half awareness and half unconsciousness; to them, this may all be a dream, but to the agents, this is reality, pure and cruel. Something easy to notice as soon as they come to view fully is their clothes: harbor workers, as they saw earlier on the day, all going through the process of becoming ghouls, better known as undead servants of a vampire.


    "Really? Transforming the workers into your little playmates? That''s fucked, even for your ugly ass, bro." Yui shrugs and shakes their head in clear and exaggerated disappointment, trying very hard to attack the man''s ego. "What? Don''t you want to face us hand-to-hand because you''re afraid to lose like last time? Cause I''ll tell you, I wasn''t even in the fight that time, and you still lost pathetically."


    "Tcks! We''ll see who will be begging for their life in a moment, monster." The vampire clicks his tongue irritatedly and moves in between the ten transforming workers who march ever so close, ready to attack the agents; soon, he disappears from view, using the low light and mess to do so.


    "Okay, you''re kinda the boss right now, Colie; so, you mind sharing with me what the plan is, pretty please?" Stepping back, almost behind the other agent, Yui gives the middle finger to the disappearing vampire while keeping a wandering hand on Colette''s side, not even attempting to be subtle with it. "I really don''t dig the idea of having to kill all of these people, especially since they aren''t even monsters yet; you know, worse than that would be to explain that to JB."


    "Knock them out, leave the bodies to be dealt with by the medics; once we get the target, you call Julia." Conjuring the words out of her throat, the woman takes a step forward, away from Yui''s touch and closer to the fight; her expression becomes truly feral, managing to oppose her words of not killing, but what doesn''t do that is the retracting claws, restoring her normal, untransformed hands.


    "All right, solid shit, I guess; non-lethal mode it is then." Yui frantically looks around for something to help with that task, finding a wood plank. With a mischievous grin, they grasp the weapon and ready their form beside the feral woman. "It will be funny once Dalia gets here; you''ll be doing the explanation part, of course. I don''t want my ears pulled by her."


    The first line of workers come down to the ground with a fleshy thud, unconsciousness setting in; sweat builds in Colette''s forehead as each swing of her tightly closed fists has to be thought through so no extra effort can cause unnecessary death to the humans lining in front of her.


    As per Yui, they don''t mind the strength they possess that much, choosing instead to bathe in the chaos as one of its spawns, grinning like a devil as they swing the wooden plank like this is a baseball game.


    As all of that goes on for a minute, no more than that, the last of the workers, a strong man wide as a door, make its final approach to Yui''s area, dragging a devilish smile out of them as they ready the wooden plank to put the half-ghoul to sleep; yet, from the shadows of the large man, the gangly man shows a great deal of intelligence as he kicks the worker closer to the agent and closes in while they are left to deal with it.


    On their hand, a syringe reflects the moonlight spying from between the dark clouds above, filled with a shadowed liquid that is instantly caught by Colette''s scent, who tries¡ªto no success¡ªto stop the attack from happening.


    The metal, cold tip of the syringe penetrates Yui square in their chest like a knife, stabbing its way deeply before its contents are splashed inside with no care to what organ it might get in; a hand surges from their side, trying to grab the man''s head before he dashes back and uses the worker''s body to, once more, buy him time, pushing him to the woman''s direction as a laugh booms out of his sore throat.


    "Hahaha! It seems all that barking of yours was merely an act; you two might be stronger than me, but my research on our kind has paid well."


    His comments travel to both agent''s ears as he laughs at the scene playing out in front of his very eyes; Yui, who was booming with joy a moment ago, gets dangerously quiet as they vomit an inky, putrid liquid out of their system, weakening them to the point they fall to the ground motionless soon after.


    "This will be my last warning; stay away from my muse; cease this feeble attempt to stop what doesn''t mind you, and you''ll be satisfied to know only one of your friends had to die for your sins. Don''t forget I have more dead man''s blood to use on you if you''d like some yourself; so don''t dare to follow."


    Profaning those words, the gangly man is quick to disappear from view, dancing in between droplets of rain to reach the forest at the beginning of the harbor. Silence stretches as soon as the man leaves, only broken the moment Colette kneels down to grab Yui and lift them up, checking on their condition.


    No words or laughs leave their cold lips, their eyes closed as a casket; at this moment, Colette, after a long time, feels fear, one so deep and painful that the only thing she can do is punch the cement ground, breaking pieces of it with sheer rage, one that threatens to steal the driving seat and control her actions¡ªa rage that is interrupted before being able to fully flourish as, from the harbor''s entrance, a blinding light shines in her direction. Dalia, driving the car as fast as it can go, slides on the road until she reaches the kneeling woman, holding in her arms their friend''s body.


    "Get in; we don''t have much time; put Yui on the backseat so we can get them to the agency. There''s still time to get them help, but only if we hurry." Dalia moves in her seat to open the door for them, only to notice her words don''t seem to reach Colette, so with a punch to the wheel, she reinforces her order with a bark. "Colette, NOW!"


    That does the trick, silencing the whispers inside the woman''s head and bringing her out of the deep anger and back to right now, so without delay, she does as told and carefully places the unmoving Yui on the backseat, jumping soon after into the space beside them. Once the door closes, the car is pushed to its limit as Dalia''s feet smash the accelerator; with miles of road in front of them, there''s only silence and darkness permeating the car''s insides.


    <hr>

 Day 4: -Dç…¤vida Manancial-

    Day 4


    Time: 7:42


    <hr>


    Times, calm or chaotic¡ªthere sure must have been a time when things were easier to deal with; when accepting any truth the world decided to throw at me wasn''t such a headache¡ªsecond nature even¡ªbut, this time, I''m starting to think by myself before accepting whatever is presented to me, in particular what I considered once to be an undeniable truth about the world as I know it¡ªasking what more is there that I don''t know about.


    Of course, the privilege to go after those answers is not one I have at hand''s reach, doubly because I have to work the strange detective hours instead of the normal officer work hours that usually would allow me to choose what shifts I want for the month¡ªthe down part of the promotion for sure.


    Today, Melissa will stay at home while another officer takes her place in the extensive patrols of this week, giving her a chance to kick her feet up and indulge herself all day in ice cream and cheap beer; lucky her, unlucky me.


    I''m not saying she doesn''t deserve it; though, if I have to be honest, maybe I am feeling just a little bit envious of her at this moment.


    A sigh escapes my throat as my weak, tired eyes blink exceptionally slowly this morning.


    Considering I only managed to catch a few hours of sleep, due to the adrenaline of learning the name of the not-so-nameless-anymore killer and the exaggerated amount of caffeine I ingested from the two filled coffee mugs I gulped down mindlessly, I can say I''m not in my worst shape yet.


    Something to keep fresh in my head: never drink coffee before bed again, or else I''m fated to wake up in the middle of the night with a train of thoughts I didn''t ask for bugging me awake.


    Coming to work today wasn''t something I wanted to do since I need time to process everything that happened, but, even so, I think pushing forward is the best option at the moment; I can''t stop, not now that I learned so much.


    Looking through the tiniest space in between the lines of my office''s blinds¡ªthe only thing that grants me a view of the open area of the station without being seeing back¡ªI find myself anxiously playing with my nails, to the point they are almost no more¡ªchewed and short.


    It feels like watching the world in parts, all moving at different speeds; the ability to distinguish the forms of people is lost to me, creating a sense of paranoia that may have been deeply rooted in me all along, just needing a jump start to come to life fully.


    "What do I even do knowing what I do now?" I ask myself in a low, tired tone¡ªalmost a whisper¡ªone not meant to be heard by anyone but me. "Should I ignore them? Face them head-on with the truth?"


    Ignoring the agents when they show up would be undesirable for sure, but I guess it would be worse to ask any of the wrong questions only to satisfy my ever-growing curiosity in a feeble attempt to calm the waves in my head and the flames burning hot in my heart.


    I can''t be sure of how they will react to me looking too closely into their business, especially considering the length they''ve gone through to get their hands on this case¡ªto be a part of it¡ªso there are not many options left in my holster, as usual at this point.


    It is either pretending I don''t know anything, playing as dumb as I can, which shouldn''t be that hard apart from managing to keep my mouth shut, or gathering a hell load of determination and letting my mouth run wild.


    My accusations would need to be cleverly masked into questions about the things I''m not supposed to know, played off as mere curiosity, with full knowledge that, the moment I ask, I''m screwed for sure. I know that, by doing so, the only path onward will be the hard one to climb, so the real question is: ''How much am I willing to sacrifice to learn the truth?''


    Not wanting to push my mind further into this rabbit hole or choose anything¡ªfor now at least¡ªthat might worsen the agonizing, aching, drums of pain permeating behind my eyes, I settle on focusing my fatigued mind elsewhere¡ªpreferably somewhere that causes me less stress and allows me to work efficiently still.


    I need to specifically lock in on what truly matters for today¡ªmaybe the only thing that does.


    The name I discovered in the contacts of the phone after swamping its battery last night for one that wasn''t drenched in seawater, a number that was called multiple times through these last few days, and exactly half an hour before what I know was the death of Andrey Kolesov using the hours I learned from Brutus: Dr. James Verso.


    Building a psychological record can help me better guess the reason behind the killings and maybe predict the next one, and if not, it will at least help me make the task of locating him less demanding.


    Searching for the name on the old computer below my table takes a while due to the combination of bad internet and dated hardware, and in the end, it doesn''t reveal much more than a link directing me to the website of Galileo Biotech, cleverly hidden after a whole lot of nothing about the story behind the lab''s start and its goals.


    As expected, it has the bare minimum about the man in question, telling me that James Verso is¡ªwell¡ªwas a leader scientist on a small project that, publicly, there isn''t much revealed, but by the words they choose to describe it¡ªamong some others displayed for any interested investors¡ªleads me to believe I was right in my assumptions.


    Sure, it isn''t like they tried to be subtle, so that helps.


    "The next step into human evolution is hidden in the blood; a fighting chance against autoimmune diseases and much more."


    Besides his work, there isn''t anything to be found about him on the internet¡ªno social media, no known partner, no kids¡ªbasically saying that he is his work and nothing more; not unlikely to a scientist.


    One of the last things I''m able to find is a publication on the official account of his workplace saying they are accepting applications for new ''brilliant minds'', even mentioning there are two spots on their research teams needing filling.


    It is clear they didn''t want to wait that long before moving on; I can kind of find a logic for not commenting about Doctor Verso¡ªhe was no one, a face among faces¡ªbut that is cold when thinking one of the big investors of theirs and his daughter, who worked for them, are dead, murdered, and even so, there isn''t a single ''fake tear'', political style address of the situation.


    I become so lost in my research that I only notice a person entering my office out of nowhere¡ªnot caring to warn me with a knock at the door or a shout¡ªwhen the sound of the door slamming shut right behind them ends up reaching my ear, forcing me to look up in their direction fast.


    I end up forcing myself to blink¡ªmore times than I like to admit¡ªso I can manage to focus my vision correctly to make out a face.


    The sweat that threatens to build in my forehead, propelled by the hasty race of my heart at the nervousness brought by the single chance that the scenario I want to avoid so fondly is happening, suddenly ceases the moment I take notice that it isn''t one of the agents that approach, but a more familiar figure.


    Just locking my gaze on Astero''s geek shirt makes my heart calm down slightly.


    Looking at the man in front of me attentively starts to help me get a story about how his night went; from the simple way he exhaustedly stumbles towards the chair in front of my table like a dying man to his hair, which stands as wild as a bush as his face rivals mine in tiredness.


    It serves to bring me a strange sense of deep understanding because it is very evident that apparently, we aren''t that far apart when it comes to our state of mind.


    "You seem like you had a rough night, let me guess; not much luck on your side too, right?"


    The question leaves me with a sympathetic smile, trying to bring some easiness to his expression; it is easy to say it doesn''t work superbly, but it seems to push away some tiredness from his brows.


    "This week sure doesn''t feel like it is ours." The words escape slip off me¡ªsomething I''ve been thinking about for some days now.


    "Yes, my only comfort is in the fact that I did all I could, but there was nothing to be found in that filthy car that was more than a couple safe hazards¡ªsome empty bottles of whiskey, burger wrappers, I even found a fish that snuck its way into the ventilation system¡ªthe usual from a traveling person, well, minus the fish."


    The man in front of me is half of what he usually is, looking to be, at this moment, a lot older than he should be.


    The two dark voids under his once bright eyes make me avoid looking at them for too long, afraid I''ll be sucked in if I attempt to, and paired with it, his hand coordination seems to be significantly affected by drowsiness, as I can tell seeing the effort it takes for him to bring one hand up to do something as simple as scratching his nose.


    To let me know that he has more things to add to the conversation, mid-way through a very long yawn that threatens to dislocate his jaw, he reaches the inside of his coat and brings to view a small diary, which he opens and checks something before resuming his talk.


    "There was a paper as well, tucked in the flooded compartment of the cup holder, mushy and coming apart. When I brought it with me home last night, I managed to piece it together with some help from two troublemakers, but it turned out to be just an ordinary rental paper dated from the beginning of this week; of course, it was signed by Mister Kolesov. I told the sergeant, and he saved us both the headache by contacting the dealership to inform them of the finding of their property; they are coming to retrieve the parts from Hanna''s workshop today."


    "Thank you, Astero; I don''t know what would be of me without you and Mel. This week feels like a sadistic test from someone who is enjoying themselves a little too much, and I''m not kidding when I say I''m tired of all of these problems weighing on my shoulders. Maybe after this case is over, I''ll cash in a well-deserved week''s vacation."


    Dizziness downs on my system the moment all the scenes from this week replay in my mind, pushing me to feel uncomfortable while sitting down; not that standing up will do me any better, yet, with no better alternative, I use both my hands to push me away from my chair and up to my feet as an idea bubbles in my mind.


    "You heard about the coffee machine?" I ask, assuming he didn''t notice in his focused mode while working yesterday. "The thing is finally fixed; I don''t know if Hanna told you that. You accompany me for a mug, or you prefer I bring you some? Don''t feel pressured to get up if you''re tired."


    "Don''t you worry, I''ll be just behind you; it wouldn''t be good to incentivize my body to act like this whenever I can''t manage a good night''s sleep. Just give me a moment to get my legs in pair with that."


    Astero takes a deep, filling breath and slaps his knees about two times before mimicking my motion to stand, only with more crunchy sounds leaving his joints; his back and legs crack loud enough to make me shiver in response.


    Once the horror show is over, he turns to me with the face of someone with a question, and he, not being shy, just shoots it out.


    "One thing you said stuck to me; you compared my lack of luck to yours, so I''m going to do as you and take a guess assuming the investigation isn''t proceeding as you''d like."


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    "Well, yeah; that obvious, huh?" Clicking my tongue tiredly, I hide my hands from view to the safety of my warm pockets and move the conversation forward, not keeping us standing around in my office any longer.


    "I mean, I''ve managed to get some good information and all¡ªthe name of our killer, his face in a video, and some concrete evidence that my suspect is, in fact, responsible for both deaths. It is just that I''m having some problems finding the safest way of putting it all together; some things just don''t exactly fit, and let''s say, I came to learn some important information that pushed back some of my progress."


    "Wait, I''m sorry; you know the name of the killer and have their face on a recording; even so, there is something on the way of you arresting them?"


    The question leaving his mouth comes laced with disbelief, and I can''t find it in me to blame him; this situation normally would be like having the cheese and knife in hand and choosing not to do anything with that.


    If only things were that simple.


    Luckily, he catches on that there''s something more to the story and sighs apologetically, changing his expression to a more casual one.


    "Look, if it is a problem you need help with, I''ll advise you not to try playing the hero; I''m sure Melissa would not mind being your backup just like she was before your promotion. Follow protocol; don''t do as Reele used to, please. I can''t handle taking the cape of counselor again and having to explain why you shouldn''t do something idiotic like I did for that man."


    Instinctively, because I want him to understand why I''m acting like this, my mind goes in the direction of telling him the truth, something that makes sense; he is my friend after all, and I need people to trust now more than ever.


    These thoughts make the words start climbing my throat so roughly that they claw my flesh, leaving only doubt planted on the scars, stealing me of the confidence my face once had.


    That alone is a sign I need to stop and think further about the possible consequences of doing so before actually saying anything stupid.


    "Relax, you won''t need to; I''m not about to do something stupid." I comfort him, placing a friendly hand on his saggy shoulders. "All that I have isn''t enough to help me actually find the guy, so the only choice I have would be to send the information I got to Eddie and let him decide if it is worth sending an alert to the big cities in case he tries moving to a new location or not."


    ''Am I doing the right thing here, keeping it all to myself?'' That question goes through my head before setting in painfully, heavily; the only answer I can muster to give my consciousness a moment of peace is that ''this is for the better''.


    Yeah, there is no way I can just tell him that we might be dealing with the supernatural kind of monsters; he would think I''m crazy... Hell, even I can''t tell if I am not anymore.


    "I''ll deal with things in due time; I just need to try my way once more to be as sure as I can that my decision will be the best one. Sure, it isn''t as easy as I make it sound like, looking for a needle in a pile of hay¡ªin a speeding truck¡ªbut I''ll find a way. It isn''t as if I have a choice here."


    As we talk and walk, time goes by, and it doesn''t take long until we both reach the kitchen area past the office, soon having a clear vision of the infamous, super old coffee machine.


    The thing is almost as old as me, and I got to say, it looks exactly the same old piece of junk from before, smelling of burning beans and collective despair.


    I don''t even think before I move my hands in a practiced dance, gathering all the right tools to make some decent coffee for both of us, as Astero, not so enthusiastically, drags a metal chair from nearby to my side and gladly sits down once more to rest his tired legs the most he can manage.


    "I understand and will support you on whatever decision you make; just make sure that you make one soon, or else you''ll be left with the sour taste that you didn''t do anything. To be clear, I''ll keep my mouth shut about that; it is better if the sergeant doesn''t hear about it anyway, or else I''m sure he''ll take matters into his own hands, and we both know how this ends."


    "Yeah, that would be bad; I don''t want him to bicker with me on how I should do my job. Thanks again for the support; it means a lot."


    After shooting a small, thankful smile to the tired pathologist, I turn to the coffee machine and watch as the little tears of the dark-brown liquid fall one by one into the carafe, similar to the rain from yesterday, just a lot calmer.


    The quiet moment that extends between us, created by the numerous thoughts in my head and Astero''s lack of energy to even exist at this moment, makes me unable not to break it; he might be in battery save mode, but I think he can help me out a little more.


    "Can I share with you something that is nagging in my head? I think a second opinion will help me get a better idea of how to proceed."


    Raising his head just enough to present me with a frown, Astero waves my preoccupations with his hand and nods once, just enough for me to notice.


    "Is that even a question? Please don''t restrain yourself next time; to reinforce that in that thick head you got, keep fresh that you can count on me if you need help."


    "Okay, the thing is: there''s a piece of evidence that keeps hammering on my head, pointing me towards a place that we know has nothing. The flower petal you found under Melinda''s fingernail has everything to be solid evidence, but we searched the old mill up and down, and there was definitively nothing there but thick dust and the smell of death. If the killer is carrying the same equipment I saw on the big boxes at the warehouse from Mister Kolesov, he would need someplace around the city to store that, and there was definitively none in the mill."


    My eyes lose focus and lock on an invisible point on the table; as for my head, it loops around this line of thought in search of an answer that never seems to come.


    "I am almost one hundred percent sure both murders happened in the mill, but then the killer abandoned the place; he knew he couldn''t stay in one place. I know there aren''t many places in the city to hide or carry around equipment like that without being spotted, so where would he move them? It is not like he carried it up to one of the apartments, and I don''t think he used his salary to get himself a house in his name around."


    Astero knows I''m not looking for a straight answer, so he doesn''t say anything to add at first, allowing me to try reaching an answer myself; but a moment passes, and to my surprise, he nods his head to himself after some seconds of deep thinking¡ªan idea clearly forming in his head, and by how he seems somewhat proud of himself, I think it is a good one.


    "Maybe someone did spot something; they just didn''t contact the station about it; with the number of people who walk around the city, there must be someone who caught an unfamiliar vehicle loaded with equipment. I suggest you check the park and talk with the runners there; I''m sure they can be of help seeing they run around pretty often, even when it rains."


    "Wait, what you said reminded me of something. Alexandrina said the same thing about people not contacting us about things they are unsure about, but her instead; maybe she heard something. So instead of talking with each runner, I could just go to where the information would end up." As the epiphany hits me, I move away from the coffee machine and start to walk around, circling the kitchen area. "Astero, you''re an A-grade genius; I''ll message her about it right now."


    The man notices rather quickly that I''m not staying anymore after settling this path in my head, my feet moving towards my office as¡ªresting on my hands¡ªmy phone becomes my lone focus, leaving Astero with only one last question.


    "Wait a moment, Olivia; tell me this: what do I do about the coffee you just made? I see you have poured enough water for both of us, and it seems you won''t need it so soon. So, do you want me to put it on a mug and take it to you or leave it here so you can reheat it later?"


    His question is accompanied by the sigh of someone who was almost expecting this to happen.


    "Oh, yeah; I almost forgot about it. You can leave it there. Tell Anja that if she wants she can have it; I''m not sure I''ll stay around for long, so it''s fine,"


    I answer as quickly as I''m able to before entering my office and closing the door right behind me; fingers busy sending the text to Alexandrina''s number, just a simple and direct: ''Are you busy? I need some help finding out some important information, and I think you''re the only one who I can trust; if it''s good for you, we can meet at the diner.''


    Now, all that remains is waiting for her response, which shouldn''t take very long; this allows me to kick back a little and do a quick research on how to deal with supernatural creatures, just in case something ends up happening.


    The insistent, never-ending clicking of the clock plastered on the wall drives me slowly insane, to the point that the few moments my eyes end up falling on it, time seems to move slower than before as if to mock me.


    My focus, however little, stays largely on the research, ending up mostly wasted on fan wiki pages to popular TV series and dark, occult sites that I have no doubt were written by a teenager in their twilight era.


    They must have thought themselves very cool for being different, begging on online forums to be bitten by a hot vampire as soon as possible just to live their fantasies¡ªcan''t completely blame them; I was a dumb teenager once.


    One of the only good things that comes out of the research is the passage of time, which leads me to waste a few hours and finally get a response from Alexandrina; this time I''ve beaten her to it, catching her probably as she was enjoying sleep.


    I might not know much about the woman, but I don''t see her as someone who would sleep until late, considering her job¡ªeven if today is a Saturday.


    In regards to my message, she responds with the same underlining urgency: ''Your message couldn''t have been at a better time, Rivers. I have my hands full right now with a problem you can very well help me with in return for whatever information you need; come to my house when you get this. The door will be unlocked for you.


    "Alexandrina needs my help with something?" I utter the question curiously out to the air, trying to guess¡ªto no avail¡ªwhat could be that she needs my help with; I imagined there weren''t many things she would need, but what would I know about her? "I can tell already this won''t be something easy."


    Even as a sigh escapes me, I am not about to write off all the effort she must have put through to help me these past days; she made things a lot easier for me.


    If she needs help with something, the least I can do is drive fast and do as asked without complaining, and that is exactly what I plan on doing.


    I kick the power button in the front part of the yellowed PC case underneath my desk, watching as the thing slowly turns off, killing the loud, jet engine-like sound of the fans.


    Meanwhile, I stretch myself up to my feet, feeling my stomach grumble with a hunger that I almost hadn''t noticed I was feeling.


    Trying to bully me, the hunger strengthens, making my stomach contract in itself, urging me to eat something soon¡ªsomething that is just not possible today.


    "No time for lunch, not today; later though."


    Leaving everything where they should be, my hands pull from the depths of my jeans pocket the keys to my car; next stop: the rich residential area, one of the few places in the city I would like to avoid if possible.


    <hr>

 Day 4: -House of Cats-

    Day 4


    <hr>


    While driving through the rich residential area, I allow myself to truly enjoy the moment of utter quietness from the street and my own mind.


    The moment is only saved from being taken over by white noise because of the wind that passes by as gently as a summer breeze, brushing against the arm I rest outside of my window¡ªalmost like it wants to welcome me.


    The reason why I call it the rich residential area is because, compared to the simple area I live in, this one is where the money was heavily directed, obvious at first glance.


    Beautiful¡ªthat is the only word that I can use to describe Havenport''s most thought-out section: The Summer Breeze Avenue.


    To left and right, restored wooden houses from when the city was still growing to be what it is now, no taller than two stories extend to the end of the street, some leaving the ground floor reserved for the best stores around town.


    The Needle, a record store that only sells old music, all stored in the way they were thought out too, like in a vinyl or a cassette; Flower Friends, owned by a woman whose life is dedicated to her obsession with flowers, and someone who sure had a hand on decorating the street; and lastly, there is the Old Lantern, the restaurant that competes with Bella''s since they set up shop some years ago.


    But what truly brings the place to life is the colorful, seasonal flowers growing in their designated areas, on the side of the wooden benches strategically placed facing the stores that bring the most revenue, hanging from the light poles, and the ones growing on the side of some houses.


    Surely one of the smartest things the mayor did, but that''s it¡ªthe one good thing I can say about the guy.


    This place has everything for me to fall in love with, but so it''s true to everyone else in this city, and that creates the perfect circumstance to test the limits of my second big fear: people.


    Not people per se, but more the daunting quantity that steals the air off my chest and makes me feel heavily pressured, as if an elevator is trying to squash me down at all moments.


    Since I was a kid, I had this thing inside of me that messes with my head when I find myself surrounded; this thing was at its worst when I was still at the Mountain View Academy, and because of it, I kind of learned how to control it.


    Even so, it still leaves me out of breath and light-headed when I''m pushed past a certain breaking point.


    With a shake of my head, I put myself back to what matters, leaving any thoughts for later.


    I search for Alexandrina''s house while I drive down the road; I''ve never been at her doorstep and never needed to ask where she lives.


    That makes things a little bit harder, so I gamble that maybe there''s an address sign on its walls or something; if there isn''t one, well, then I will most likely lose a lot of unnecessary time, and that would, for sure, not be that good considering I''m on a race against the sun.


    Gladly, the first lucky bit of the day shows that it still lives inside of me, countering my belief that it had surely run dry since the events from yesterday night and today''s morning.


    On the far end of the street, nearest to the park, I find a cozy-looking house with a car parked right in front of a closed garage, one that strikes a chord in my memory.


    A red, vintage car that is so different from everything else around, that it convinces me instantly that I''ve seen it before when Reele was still the detective; if I am right, it belongs to Alexandrina''s mom, Mrs. Carvalho, or something.


    She used to park in front of the station and rush in with a never-ending stream of questions about the cases he was working on; I always assumed they were a thing, but never got a definitive answer.


    Huh? Strange; I don''t remember the last time I saw her around the city.


    Ignoring that, I go past the low-height wooden fence that separates the house from the street, using the small stone path to the little parking space, and take over the empty spot beside the old car.


    Once done, I take my keys and climb out of it, careful enough to avoid hitting my door on anything expensive and end up having to pay to fix a dent in it.


    Comparing the whole front yard of Alexandrina''s house to the two tall bushes beside my home''s door is not fair game, especially as I see that, different from Melissa and me, the journalist seems to spend some good money, or time, to keep the lawn and pretty flowers hidden in between grass blades at a certain degree, never taking over more space than they need.


    In the distance, I notice that the fence feels almost forgotten about because of the dissonance between it and the well-kept lawn: the paint it has dried long ago and now is peeling off, disappearing little by little with the washed-out brown, giving off the real color behind the wood used, a honey maple pigment.


    Filling up my vision, a two-story house, very normal and with the immediate feeling that a grandma lives in it, becomes my new focal point.


    It is held up by four solid walls, made of orange-tone bricks, fitting very well the same aesthetic as the other ones, only more secure-looking; surely a wolf would need to blow very hard to bring it down, a different story from the ones made of wood.


    I don''t allow myself to be nervous now; this is just a professional visit to her house; certainly, there is nothing to make me apprehensive.


    So, telling myself that in repeat in hopes I''ll believe it, I casually approach the front door, only adjusting the clothes on my body to smooth out any visible wrinkles.


    When facing it, a shadow casts upon me from the small front porch roof, making it slightly easier to notice the blue flowers arranged attentively on three clay pots surrounding an empty-looking wooden barrel, decorating the part right beside me.


    Raising my right hand to knock on the door, the words from Alexandrina''s message come back to me, the one saying the door would be open as she''s expecting me already.


    ''Does that mean she wants me to just come in? Would that even be okay?'' The question arises in the back of my head; nonetheless, I ultimately decide to give it a knock just to be sure while I turn the knob and push it open slowly.


    I step inside once the door is fully open, keeping one hand on the knob at the inner side so I can close it right behind me while still managing to get a look around.


    The first thing that hits me is the aroma of recently cooked food; it enters my nose and washes away the car fumes that I didn''t notice were impregnated on my nasal path.


    Then, traveling my eyes around, I study the big space belonging to a living room, with many wooden furniture thrown near the walls, a good-looking couch in the middle, roughly surrounding a coffee table, and some barrel chairs near it too.


    My plan to explore a bit more with my eyes is rudely interrupted by the feeling of something hairy bumping against the top half of my ankle, forcing me to act on instinct and jump away, landing with my back pressed against the door, completely breathless, and with a promised heart attack meant only for the old version of me settling in my core.


    "Jesus, what the he¡ª"


    One of my hands ends up on my chest defensively, feeling my heart beating loudly and strongly against it¡ªso strong in fact that I fear it will rip its way out soon.


    A swear starts to formulate on the tip of my tongue as the anxiety dies down and leaves the front stage to a wave of premature anger.


    Looking down at the thing that almost managed to get me in a coffin a lot sooner than expected, the anger boiling inside of me goes away as I find myself being stared at by nature''s second cutest creation after Pirate, a cute, black cat, looking no older than a month.


    Thanks to my sudden, explosive motion, the tiny cat gazes with its wide, scared green eyes, studying my reaction and probably analyzing if it should approach me again or not.


    The sight is enough to put my brain back in place and calm my heart rate down to acceptable levels.


    "Oh, I''m so sorry, Kitty; you gave me a scare." I squat down to the young cat''s level, keeping eye contact as my lips are taken over by a calm smile¡ªan attempt to befriend it. "To be fair, I think I managed to scare you a little too, right? But it''s fine, come here; I won''t hurt you¡ªI promise."


    My words of encouragement paired with my vague knowledge of cats allow me to create a comfortable scenario for the creature, and soon enough, it approaches me with its twitching nose, exploring my smell with the intent to learn what the strange thing that entered its territory is.


    "Olivia, is that you? Are you fine down there?" A voice originating from the top of the stairs at the end of the entrance''s corridor rings down until it reaches my ears; by her tone, I can make out a fraction of what I believe is worry. "I heard a loud noise; did something happen? You didn''t get yourself hurt, right?"


    "I''m fine, I''m fine," I answer, adjusting my tone so it is loud enough that it manages to reach her without scaring the curious cat. "Your cat just gave me a scare, that''s all; by the way, I didn''t paint you for a cat person. I mean, your phone case has cats on it, but I didn''t think you would actually have one."


    "Yeah, I actually have three; in any case, I just got out of the shower. I''ll dress myself right now, so stay down there; I''ll be down in a moment. You can wait for me on the couch if you want, or just stand where you are; your choice."


    "Okay, I''ll stay here waiting with your cat then; no need to rush yourself."


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    My response seems to fall on deaf ears because, as I say that out loud, I''m able to listen to the sound of the woman walking rather fast on the upper floor, almost as if rushing herself.


    The good thing is that, because I''ll have to wait anyway, that gives me time to look around a little, appreciate the house, and all.


    Well, to be truthful here, I''m starting to notice I don''t know the ''true'' Alexandrina, and I want to learn more about her now that I know she isn''t the asshole I thought her to be for the past three years¡ªwhich was a lot of time to form some bad preconceptions of her character that, if I can, I would like to change in my mind.


    Of course, in the end, she can turn out to be the asshole I thought her to be, but, even so, I''ll take my chances.


    The moment I start walking the corridor while keeping an attentive eye on my surroundings, the young cat chiefly tails behind, acting as a small version of a security guard, keeping close. Hence, the creature gets what it wants¡ªthe feeling of being in control over my actions¡ªadorable.


    Sadly, to my disappointment, there doesn''t appear to exist much to be found.


    I expected to encounter a photo from when she was a kid, maybe on a family trip with her mother or enjoying a moment together.


    Yet there are instead a lot of pictures of her mom and what I assume are some old friends of hers¡ªplenty of antique memories dated to either before Alexandrina was born or soon after by how time-worn it resides, lying behind a cold photo frame.


    Perhaps¡ªfor the fact I spotted it¡ªmy eyes become sharper towards other frames similar to this one, catching a few thrown atop some furniture around the living room.


    In particular, three frames carefully hung on the wall leading to the staircase, pluck my attention the most: first for the position, away from the living room where it could be easily spotted by anyone, and secondly, by what it looks to hold.


    It steals me from the choice, unplugging me of my good sense, and proceeds to pull on my curiosity so strongly that I don''t even think before I approach it, wanting to get a better look.


    Getting closer to it, the more the items chosen to be held behind the security of the glass, and why it isn''t on the open area of the living room intrigues me. The frames seem to have the same thing but from different years: one front page belonging to old newspapers.


    I stop my eyes on the first one from left to right and start reading in a low tone, starting with the title: "The unforeseen end to the mining operation; the mayor refuses to give any comments about the reason behind the decision."


    "This morning, nine of June, nineteen forty-five, all residents of the small city of Havenport wake up to the unexpected news about the closure of the important mines that brought the small city an impressive increase of a hundred forty-five percent in revenue. The assumptions as to the reason behind such an important decision being taken without an official announcement from the mayor are speculated to be directly tied to the end of the war, yet, when questioned about it, the mayor chose not to answer, reinforcing that indeed, there was a scheme behind it, as suspected. It is to be believed that the mayor pocketed public money to use on himself and his family in an attempt to keep his fancy lifestyle. While the miners fled the city in hopes of continuing their work elsewhere, the mayor closed the caves indefinitely. A trustful citizen has informed me that the plan of using the destructive power of TNT to rid the city of the cave mouths is for the sole purpose of hiding the truth in it, a story that the police still keep from investigating even at this moment."


    Reading the newspaper entirely, I reach the very bottom of it, where the name belonging to the one who covered the news is displayed proudly: Sharon Moore Carvalho.


    "Is that¡ª"


    "Yes; it is exactly who you think it is." The second scare of the day happens the moment Alexandrina gets to the end of the stairs; her eyes, for god knows how long, watch me focused on the hung newspaper. She walks closer to me, like a ghost, her red hair swaying¡ªstill somewhat wet¡ªfrom side to side, leaving some drops on the wood beneath her feet. "That was my grandma''s best story; she always bragged at dinner time about how she was able to back the man against the wall and make a name for herself. In the end, the mayor was indeed stealing money from the operation; she discovered and gave the police the evidence, and then the mayor was arrested."


    "I see. Your grandma, your mother, and then you; being a journalist runs in your family then." To be polite, I take a step away from the frames and turn to face her. "I''m sorry for snooping around, but can I ask why the last frame is empty? It is quite hard not to notice."


    The question leaves me, but there is no expectancy in me that she will answer, but, almost if to contradict my mind, Alexandrina looks at the empty frame with a strange expression¡ªpained.


    "Each one is reserved for the best work of our family''s journalist career¡ªmy mother, grandma, and mine. There was a time when mine wasn''t empty, but the news I covered up turned out to be no good. It was my biggest failure." Her eyes avoid mine for a moment before they change, shielding from any emotion she had prior, returning to her usual hard-to-read expression, letting clear she wants to discuss something else. "In any way, come with me upstairs so I can show you the problem; the sooner we solve this thing, the earlier you can go back to your investigation and me to my podcast."


    I nod in response to her request, readying myself to help solve the problem she has, whatever it might turn out to be.


    She then turns around, and walks to the stairs, expecting me to follow, something I do without any more words; as a good surprise, following us both, the small cat does its best to climb one step at a time, not wanting to miss out on what is happening.


    We soon reach the second floor; while I stay behind to pick up the small cat as it soon runs out of energy to climb safely, Alexandrina keeps her way forward, passing by other three doors that I assume lead to some other rooms and entering the fourth, on the far left.


    Atop her, I notice an attic hatch on the ceiling due to a set of string lights hanging from it¡ªthe purpose behind them is a mystery to me. Aesthetic, maybe?


    Before she moves totally out of view, I can''t stop but notice how, even at her own home, she dresses very professionally: dark blue jeans hug her legs tightly, and a shirt stays hidden beneath a car coat that provides her protection against the cold while not impairing her freedom of movement¡ªall stylish and practical.


    I secure the cat in my arms and watch as it tiredly meows and comes to accept that it has no choice but to trust me; that comes after a good attempt to free itself from my hold. Still, even after that, it continues digging the sharp claws on its paws on my overcoat sleeves in search of further safety.


    Finally, I''m free to go right after and get to Alexandrina''s room; I make sure to enter it leisurely, giving my wandering eyes time to look around out of instinct.


    A bunch of recording equipment stands around what I notice is her work table: cameras, an expensive-looking microphone, some professional sound-absorbing panels on the walls, and lastly, a nice-looking computer residing on top of the furniture.


    I can tell she is serious about what she does by looking at everything the room has and how it is all organized, seemingly ready at all moments to be used in case she needs it.


    Besides her work-related stuff, her room doesn''t have much more; nothing that tells me she has a hobby or any other interests¡ªthough her bed looks nice, and I end up catching sight of a white, long feline, sprawled comfortably on the covers¡ªsleeping.


    The moment I put the small cat on the ground, it meows and begins to play around with the first thing it finds¡ªthe item in question is a waterproof pair of shoes, thrown around on the feet of her bed.


    "You can sit on the bed if you want; I''ll just turn on the computer; give me a quick second." She says with a focused voice as her hands find the button to turn it on; meanwhile, she knowingly looks at the floor and shakes her head. "Stop that, Shoe; you can''t simply destroy another of my shoes when you feel like it."


    Noticing that the words go past the young cat''s standing ears, I choose to lend a hand. "Let me help you."


    Bending down on her side, I grab both shoes out of the ground and out of the cat''s grasp; then, I look around and find a cardboard box¡ªtall enough so the little beast can''t get to it.


    After placing the footwear atop the box, I do as asked and sit down at the edge of the bed; composedly, perhaps slightly nervous, I rest my hands atop my thighs, quietly waiting.


    "Thank you for that; the little thing is a devil sometimes; just this month there was one destroyed sandal and a pair of boots, and she chewed the front part of one of my shoes as well."


    "Don''t worry about it; but, that''s the reason why you named your cat Shoe? Because it destroyed some of your shoes?"


    "Pretty much, yeah; I never was good at naming things, so I just picked up one based on her worst trait and then named her after that."


    "Well, it isn''t the worst; Mel and I named our dog Pirate because he has only one eye. Not the pinnacle of creativity." I let out a simple laugh at the memory, and then I feel a weight climbing onto my lap and settling on it. Maybe because I disturbed the resting white cat, it resolved to use me as a pillow in return. "Does this one is named after a specific trait?"


    "Yes. That is Snowy, and the one by the window is Anakin¡ªthat one my mother named after her favorite movie character."


    Her words bring my eyes to the window, where I spot an old, gray cat sunbathing silently, eyes closed, apparently sleeping snuggly. I don''t plan to disturb it soon; I can even sympathize; if I could, I would sunbathe in my room and sleep all day.


    Once I look back at Alexandrina, the computer is fully turned on and displaying its wallpaper, remarkably analogous to the drawing on her phone case.


    "Okay, let me fill you in on what happened."


    Turning on her chair, she looks at my face and adjusts her posture to tell me the story. "Last night, I was streaming my podcast as usual; I was covering the story from Pete; even if it wasn''t especially catchy, it was what I had for the day. Halfway onto the podcast, I get an email from the platform I stream on saying that there was one unauthorized access to my account and a link for me to click on to solve it."


    "And you clicked on it, I assume."


    "I did; if I hadn''t, I would have not called you here. I wanted to solve the problem to continue working; I wasn''t thinking straight. The person hacked my computer, and now I can''t access anything."


    To show me what she is talking about, she attempts to open a browser, and a GIF of a cat wearing a cowboy hat shaking its head pops takes over her monitor''s screen.


    There''s a text above that says, ''No. Keep your paws away, pawtner.''


    "Is it just it? Have you checked to see if the hacker only blocked your access to your things or if they did something else? Like, harvesting your data or anything?"


    "That''s the strange part; they just blocked my access. Everything else was left untouched. I thought they were attempting to get my bank account, so I blocked all credit cards as soon as I found out."


    "Look, Alex, I don''t know how much help I can offer; I mean, I''m not an IT technician. I can''t do much. And there is the email: it must have been sent from out of the city."


    "No, I''m positively sure it didn''t. I don''t transmit the podcast outside the city because of a contract I signed with the mayor¡ªand the GIF you see; I was the one who created it. Every Saturday I open a stream to chat with the city¡ªhear stories, exchange information¡ªthat is how I get to know most problems around; the people who use my chat are the only ones who know about it."


    "Okay, so, how many people are we talking about here? A hundred? Two hundred?"


    "Three hundred and fifty; that is the average number I get of people watching the stream." Hearing that, I do the math in my head, and yeah, this will be almost impossible to figure out; except that, Alexandrina seems to have a plan already formulated in her mind. "You asked how you can help me, and the answer is simple. Your friend, Officer Lee, I did my research; he is very good with this kind of stuff; you ask him to lend a hand, we find the hacker, get my computer back to normal, and then I can help you back."


    Fascinating; the fact that she had a plan to deal with it and to cash in the help I owe her; all makes me question if she''s telling me the whole story here.


    "I can definitively ask him; not a problem. I''ll just need to call the station and have Anja pull his home address for us¡ªtoday is his day off."


    "There is no need for that; I so happen to know where he is. That saves you the trouble and my time."


    I raise a brow, looking at her with a bit of suspicion plastered on my face; seeing that, she stares back at me with a cold frown.


    "Don''t look at me with that face. I know you use your socials about never, but other people do; they post about their lives all the time. Your sister does that regularly, even posting selfies at crime scenes; probably a crime in itself, don''t you agree?"


    Accompanying her argument, she brings her phone out and shows me a selfie of Mel drinking coffee while in the apartment parking lot, the first crime scene. Dammit Mel, I''ll have to talk with her seriously about this later.


    "Officer Lee isn''t much different; he posted ten minutes ago about the taste of the vegan meal at the Old Lantern. I don''t know about you, but I am willing to bet he is still around there."


    "I get it; it isn''t a bad plan. I''ll help, or at least I''ll try to; just tell me when you want to go there and we go."


    "Right now is about good; like I said, I want this resolved as soon as possible."


    Alexandrina rises from her chair and looks towards the door, stopping for me to rise to my feet and accompany her.


    I check on my phone, seeing that the clock approaches the fifteenth hour; that drags a click of my tongue out of me. Walking down to the restaurant and talking to Lee, I only hope I''ll have time to do something about the case before midnight.


    Once on my feet, we both direct ourselves to the stairs with our next destination in mind.


    <hr>

 Day 4: -Good Cop, Better Cop-

    Day 4


    <hr>


    It is hard to part ways from my car, leaving it in front of Alexandrina''s house; the security of having it in case anything goes wrong, especially after yesterday, leaves me feeling stripped of a good chunk of my defenses.


    I take it bittersweetly, but, regardless of my feelings, I do my best not to let it transpire; something I notice is a complete dissimilarity to the person striding beside me, loudly clicking her boots against the rocky ground.


    Silently, Alexandrina and I walk up the road I came; her eyes locked on the path ahead with no intention to change her focus to anywhere else, unaware or unbothered by my study of how she''s acting.


    Her shoulders stiffen with each step she takes; at one point I think she might be uncomfortable regarding how strange it must feel to be working with me, but, on a second look, a detail comes to light; the irises of her eyes burn with annoyance.


    That is the only thing clear about her; even if she tries to play it off, this hacker managed to get under her skin.


    The feeling of wanting to ask more about it leaves me once I remember why I''m here¡ªnot to give my opinion; no, I''m here to solve this.


    Timely, as the resolutions down on my system, we reach the entrance of the Old Lantern; a big wooden wall stares us down, and a beaten door welcomes us half open, allowing the smell of food inside to flow out, attacking my hungry stomach.


    To play with the name, instead of light bulbs, they hang electric lanterns on top of the entrance, and, at this moment of the day, they stay there only for decoration purposes, turned off.


    The opportunity to analyze more is gone once Alexandrina pushes the creaking door open and holds it for me; I just can''t be sure if she''s being polite or wanting to hurry me. In the end, not wanting to be impolite, I nod gratefully with my head and get inside.


    "We just need to find him; do you have any idea what table he took or if it is on the first or second floor? This place isn''t exactly small, and that makes things more complicated." My question leaves me as I look back and see her closing the squealing door behind us.


    Upon turning my face to get a look around, my mind eats a punch; an uncomfortable itch surges on the back of my neck.


    Imagine a place booming with people, then multiply by three, and you''ll get approximately what I''m seeing. It takes me back to the first crime scene; most of the city appears to have come around. Just my luck.


    Sometimes it becomes easy to forget how establishments around tend to become full on weekends, awfully more so when the job takes the opportunity to do so for long periods.


    "Your friend wasn''t a lot discrete, but knowing exactly where he is asking a little too much, don''t you think?" Fairly, she points it out, taking the lead and walking past the boots, purposely leaving a space beside her for me to fill. "You surely will have an easier time recognizing him once we start walking around, so keep your eyes peeled if you can."


    This time I don''t provide an answer, mostly spending brain power to look at easily one hundred faces and trying to find the one we are looking for.


    About one minute goes by of looking around carefully¡ªleft and right, up and down¡ªand when I start to think of going to check the second floor, a uniformed person makes me stop and blink to see if I''m seeing correctly.


    "Found him; the table at the very back. There, near the restroom." I point in Lee''s direction, right past a corridor of people walking in and out; it drags Alexandrina out of her search, bringing some relaxation to her expression, even if not for long. "Strange that he is in uniform on his day off; I expected a more casual look."


    "We have no time to lose now that we found him; come on. You can ask him why about his clothing choice after we sit with him." Rushing me, the woman hurries her way between tables in an awkward dance. Copying her motion, I try not to stay far behind.


    Expectedly, we wind up with some difficulty, inevitably bumping into people as their focus stays unchanged on the conversations they are having while walking; Alexandrina doesn''t even turn to apologize when that happens; in her hurry, she leaves that job for me.


    Because of the small commotion created, Officer Lee ends up shifting his gaze toward us in hopes of understanding what is happening. His action of pulling a notebook out of the backpack that lies on a chair beside him slows down as he moves to fix the glasses on his face, squinting his eyes to see better.


    "Detective Rivers?" The man asks, and the moment he can get a good look at my face, seeing that it is indeed me, he expeditiously gets up to his feet and promptly extends his hand for a handshake. "I-I didn''t expect to see you around here today; how are you doing? Is everything okay?"


    "Hey, Lee. Well, things could be better, that''s for sure. Actually, that is why we are here." Taking his hand into mind, I make sure to give it a gentle handshake and peek at his table, almost inviting myself. "Would you mind us sitting with you? I''ll come clean and say it. We would like to ask a favor if that isn''t a problem."


    "We? I mean, it isn''t a problem; please take a chair; but, who is the ''we'' you''re talking about?" He asks, confused; his brows don''t have time enough to raise prior to his eyes catching sight of Alexandrina. "Oh, it is you, Miss Journalist! I''m sorry, I didn''t catch your name from last time."


    The woman waves his apologetic nod away with a shake of her head, extending her hand to the man before he gets the possibility to do it first. "You can call me Alex. I''m sorry for coming here without notifying you beforehand; now, if you don''t mind, I''ll take a chair."


    Differently from when I talked to her in her house, there is something that becomes relatively easy to notice. She altered her way of speaking to address him. Her voice takes a lower pitch, considerably more serious and executive-like, losing most of her own characteristics; is this something she does frequently?


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Now that I''m thinking, she spoke to me in this same way back when we exchanged numbers¡ªdifferent from some minutes ago when I was at her house. Does that mean she is slowly talking to me more relaxed than with others? That is something strange to think about.


    In the midst of her circling the round table to pull a chair for her to sit on, I shoo away my thoughts and prepare to do the same, only to be interrupted by the man''s hand falling on my shoulder. As soon as it gets my attention, he retrieves it to the side of his body and puts a thankful smile on his face.


    "I''m sorry, I just wanted to thank you once again for the help you gave me back on the crime scene; the other officers sort of ignored me¡ªnot that I''m complaining¡ªI''m just reinforcing the reason why I''m grateful and all. Your advice helped me a lot, detective."


    "Hey, it''s fine. Most officers in the station believe we need to fall to be a better cop; I just so happen to believe a helping hand can speed up the process."


    Nodding twice, the man focuses on each word that escapes my lips, like he is trying to learn, leaving me to feel like a kindergarten teacher; in the end, his expression turns deadpan¡ªvery dedicated.


    "That is very nice of you." Smiling, he points to the last remaining chair. "Please, don''t let me keep you on your feet, detective; you can take that seat."


    Sitting down on the chair, I adjust my posture to start talking.


    "Lee, the thing is, Alex here got her computer hacked by someone within the city, and I would be very grateful if you could help us out. We need to get her access back; nothing major. I know that may be a little much to ask on your free day, but I wouldn''t bother you if it wasn''t important. Believe me."


    Shaking her head, Alexandrina lets out a click of her tongue. "I don''t just want my access back. I want to know who did this so I can have a chat with them. I can''t risk this happening again and messing up my work; I need to make sure this ought to be a separate incident that won''t happen again in the future."


    "Uhm, okay; I can help with that, I think. With some luck, it may not even take that long to resolve. For starters, I need you two to keep in mind that finding the person''s location may be out of my reach for me now. I would need my main computer to even try something like that." He says, dragging a sigh from Alex as he opens the notebook atop the table. "How about you start by telling me what happened exactly? I need all the information you can lend about the situation so I can formulate a plan of action here."


    "There isn''t much to say; believe it or not, the person who hacked Alex, by what she knows, doesn''t seem to have used her account for anything until this moment. Strangely, they just locked her from using the browser on her computer."


    "Strange indeed, going through all that headache to simply lock her access to her accounts and not use them? Typically hackers take your information and sell it for cash, or even use the access to your accounts to commit illegal actions that otherwise would fall on them, redirecting to your name. Are you absolutely sure this isn''t one person you have beef with, Miss Alex? This doesn''t look random."


    "I''m sure. The people from this city who hate me are forty-up and wouldn''t be able to use a computer if their lives depended on it. I doubt one of the local store owners woke up today and decided to study to become a hacker only to mess with me."


    "So it isn''t personal, then? All right. I may have a plan to help you out; I''ll need to use your email. Do you mind if I use your phone, Miss Alex?" Lee extends his hand to Alexandrina, waiting for the device.


    "Sure, knock yourself up. Just don''t you get my phone hacked as well if you can manage." She says, handing the phone with little reluctance to her action.


    "Rest assured, I won''t do anything too complicated. I''ll explain in a minute." The split second he gets his fingers on the phone, he begins working on something in his notebook. The clicks and clacks of his keyboard create an atmosphere of its own, a cacophony of switches. "The plan I have is nothing too complicated. If the person has access to your account, it means that they might be monitoring anything that happens to it; after all, they won''t risk you messing with their craft and regaining the access they are gatekeeping. So, with that in mind, I''ll do this."


    The ''this'' he comments about stays a mystery to me and Alex for a good minute or so before he manages to finish whatever he is cooking. He lays the phone on the table, and immediately Alex extends her hand to retrieve it, stuffing it in her pocket.


    "Well, what did you do? And, did it work?" I ask, in hopes he explains the rest of the story.


    "Excuse me, I lost my train of thought. What was I talking about?" He, looking at me with a confused face, blinks until he ends up remembering. "Oh, yeah, the plan. I tried to log in to her account from my computer so an email would be sent to her about the attempt. When they did send their email with a link to solve the problem, the exact moment she received it, I replied with a copy and paste of the message, but with a homemade tracking link I just brewed snuck into it. With some luck, the hacker will hurry to stop the retrieval and will end up clicking the link."


    "And what is the result of that little trick of yours?" With her arms crossed, Alex leans closer to his notebook and waits for an answer.


    "Will know in a second. While we wait, let''s talk about your computer problem." Lee starts going through his backpack until he finds a pen drive, bringing it into view. "Before coming back to Havenport from my father''s, I used to work in an IT department; only for a year though. There they taught me to always walk with a quick fix in case the company''s computer or servers ever got attacked. Stick this to your machine and run the program on it. That should do the trick and rid it of the hacker''s presence."


    "Is that so? Well, thanks." Taking the pen drive onto her palm, Alex loses no time storing it safely in her coat''s pocket. "I''ll give it back to you tomorrow if you want, or I could leave it on with Olivia for her to give it back to you."


    "Don''t worry about it; I have at least three more of those, so you can keep it if you want." His answer comes while his eyes freeze on the notebook''s screen; then, breaking the expectation iceberg, a single beep sound emanates from his machine. His eyes widen before it turns to us. "Wow, it really worked! I got it. The hacker''s location. I can''t believe they really fell for that."


    This time I''m the one leaning from my chair to get a look at it, and like he said, the screen displays a map very recognizable to me.


    "Is this thing accurate? Is the location of our hacker on the north side apartments?" Squinting my eyes, I see that yes, from all that I know it seems to be.


    "Yes, the same one me and my family live in...wait a second, could it be?" As if struck by a revelation, the man stops to think deeply about something. "Yeah, it fits perfectly. She might be the one who did this."


    "Who is this ''she'' you''re talking about, Lee? Is it someone you know?" Curiously, I tilt my head.


    "No, I don''t know her; but I saw this woman carrying some tech equipment to her apartment two weeks ago. I didn''t catch much, but it looked to be some server parts. The location and that can''t be a mere coincidence. As you two are going there anyway, try checking her apartment: fourth floor, apartment four hundred six."


    "Okay, that''s all then. Come on, Olivia; let us go." Without letting me say anything more, the woman rises from her chair impatiently. "Thanks for the help, Officer. Enjoy the rest of your day off."


    Before she can wholly disappear from the restaurant without me, I get to my feet and share my last words with Lee. "Thank you for helping out. If you end up in need of any help, you can knock on my office door. Maybe I won''t be able to do much this week, but once this case is closed, I''ll owe you a solid."


    Poor man, he doesn''t even get the chance to say his goodbyes back as I hurriedly follow after Alex, but if I had to guess what he''s thinking, it would be something along the lines of, ''What just happened?''


    <hr>

 Day 4: -??U? ?U?N-

    Day 4


    <hr>


    The apartment complex¡ªhow strange it is to set feet on it again. Today''s wintry air passes me by differently from before, carrying the true winter feeling with it: depressing and tiring.


    Even if this isn''t the one where the body of Melinda Kolesov was found, a sense of melancholy embraces me unhurriedly due to the combination of the mental image engraved in me and the freezing temperature all of a sudden.


    One look across the street is enough to see the alleyway leading to the south apartment complex, where I had to fight my way through people to move forward, where her body was left to rot¡ªlaid across the cement parking lot like a broken doll.


    Alexandrina, who''s been walking beside me from the now far-away Old Lantern to here, focuses her eyes on the staircase on the side of the building, the one we will inevitably take to go up. I notice her closing and opening her fists in an attempt to keep the warm blood flowing to her extremities.


    "We should get this over with; preferably before we end up freezing out here." She says, turning to find me looking at her.


    "Yes, just try keeping your calm once we get to her. We first need to be sure she was the one who hacked you; then, and only then, we can do anything about it. I don''t want things to escalate, so let me do the questioning."


    "Sure. Like I said before, I only want my access back to make sure this won''t happen again; not here looking for a fight anyway. If I was, I wouldn''t have called you."


    "And that was the right decision, I assure you. Because you called, I''ll help you get your podcast up and running again before night falls." I mutter the promise out of me in hopes that these words are going to turn true for both of her and me.


    If there is one thing I dislike most about this city''s management is the lack of protocol being applied to some places.


    For example, the moment Alex and I step into the building, there isn''t a single person to direct us to the stairs or ask if we came to visit someone; that creates a safety problem as anyone could take the stairs up and do something evil. Well, not that this happens much; still, it is better to care for something that won''t happen than to not care and watch as it happens under your nose.


    At least the lack of a working elevator makes most that would want to do something like that give up on the first flight. Hell, the sight of it almost makes me give up.


    Exhaustedly, we finish climbing up to the fourth floor; even though I am in good shape, the lack of food in my stomach makes me weak relatively fast.


    To take a breather, I stare at a long corridor where to our left are the apartments with the number plaque on the door, and to our right, an open view of the city.


    It sure is an amazing view to wake up and bathe in taking into consideration that none of the other buildings around even manage to reach this height, leaving whoever wishes to throw their gazes away to see how the city''s heart beats and how its lungs breathe to see it without a problem.


    Reaching the end of the corridor, I can''t help but draw my eyes to the door in question¡ªthe infamous apartment four hundred and six. Alex and I exchange a brief look before I raise my hand to knock on the door.


    KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK


    "Havenport''s Police Department; is anyone home?" Silence is the only answer we have from the other side, something that forces me to knock again on the door. "It''s the police; open up. I''m here to talk."


    This time, knocking on the door gets us something¡ªnot from inside the apartment, but from the one beside it.


    A figure opens the door to apartment four hundred and five and steps outside timidly, first sticking her head outside and only then stepping out.


    An old woman, dressed in a floral dress topped with a kitchen apron, quizzically looks in my direction; her white hair is kept in a tight bun; even so, some strands escape and sway beside her face.


    "I''m sorry, dear; my ears are not what they used to be, but, have I heard it right? Are you from the police?" She talks in a shaky and weak voice, leaving me to notice how she seems to put some good effort into speaking alone, masked by a neighborly smile.


    "Yes, ma''am; I''m Detective Rivers, and the one beside me is a friend." I step away from the door and take a step towards the old woman with an apologetic smile to start. "I''m sorry if we ended up disturbing you; we are trying to reach the woman who lives in this apartment. Would you know her by any chance?"


    "If I know her? Oh, not much. I''ve seen her around a few times but never exchanged words; the girl doesn''t leave her apartment for long. Concerning, to say the least. Someone at her age needs some sun from time to time." The old grandma points to the stairs we just came from with shaky fingers. "I think I heard her go out about twenty minutes ago, right when I started to cock some stew for my nephew. She shouldn''t take long to come back; she never does."


    To someone who doesn''t know our woman that much, she seems to keep a very keen eye out for most things she does. I''m starting to get a picture now: she''s the type to spy on her neighbors. Good for us, I guess.


    "That helps a lot. Thank you for talking to us, ma''am." My reply comes with a business-standard smile.


    "Oh, don''t worry, dear. I have to get back to my stew soon; good luck to you and your quiet friend."


    With those last words, the old woman gets back inside the apartment, locking the door right behind her.


    Then, I look at Alexandrina, seeing her restlessly backing off to the wall nearby and resting her weight against it until she slides down, her butt meeting the ground.


    Seeing that I can''t help but do the same, only on the wall opposite to hers.


    The moment I sit down, I feel the cold of the ground seeping through my jeans and parasite off my warmth.


    Concentrating my eyes on my hands as I rub them together, I don''t notice Alexandrina''s eyes on my face, looking attentively.


    "You know, detective; for someone in your line of work, your poker face isn''t that good. I can tell since we left my house that there''s a question stuck to your throat. So ask whatever it is you want; at least that is bound to help pass some time."


    Her words aren''t entirely wrong; she is right in saying I want to ask her something. I do, especially after going to her house; more questions got into my head than answers, which makes me want to get to the truth.


    "If that''s so, I won''t hold myself; I have two things I wanted to clear up with you."


    Sliding one knee down until my leg is fully extended and one up so I have a surface, I bend my face down and rest my chin atop it. "Let''s start with the simpler one. It sure isn''t hard to notice your mother isn''t around town; her car is parked in front of your house, and she sure isn''t there. You don''t need to answer if it is too complicated, but, where has she gone?"


    "Don''t know, she didn''t tell me where; the only thing she left before disappearing at this week''s beginning was a letter telling me she had ''things to take care of'' and that she would not be back for a while. She also told me not to call her phone and that if I needed anything, I would need to send a message and wait."


    In a way, I can feel the heaviness attached to her words. It can''t be easy for her, to have her mother gone without notice; I know she lived her whole life with her, so being alone must hurt.


    "Before you say something; yes, it is strange of her to do something like this. My theory is that she is either having a mid-life crisis or has found someone to hook up with." Her last words make me think about what she just said, leaving me to connect a dot with another.


    "Now that you said that, do you think this someone may be Reele? The detective before me. The dates are too close to be a coincidence, and I don''t think that is a far stretch considering what the fights I witnessed from both."


    "Can''t say; she never talks about her personal life to me. No, to be clear, she doesn''t talk about her personal life to anyone, period." Alex locks her fingers together and gazes at the ground. "There is a possibility that she did run with Reele to a motel somewhere to spend a week together; I just don''t have anything to back it up to confidently say."


    "Okay, thanks for answering that. I think now''s the time I ask the complicated one."


    There''s a moment I pause before continuing, re-evaluating if I should ask or not, even if I do end up asking anyway against my better judgment. "Back at your house, there was something that made me think. Actually, it was more that one of the things you said bothered me. The three frames¡ªit isn''t that hard to assume what the big failure you talked about was. I want to know and would appreciate it if you were to be honest: is that why you''ve been helping me so much?"


    "..."


    No words leave her mouth, so I continue. "Are you trying to compensate for what happened to me after that?"


    "...You like to assume too much."


    She points out and shakes her head tiredly before locking her gaze on mine. "Well, no point in hiding it anymore. Let me correct you on something; I''m not helping you just because of that; I genuinely think you can do a whole lot of good for this city. My grandma fought for that, to free this city from the greedy people who run it, like our mayor."


    There''s a small, almost unnoticeable smile on her face as she talks about her grandma, one that stays on her lips until they lose the feeling they had before, becoming bittersweet. "You know, I was twenty-two when I wrote about the Parker''s case¡ªjust a dumb girl trying desperately to rush her way to success. Impressing my mother was all I wanted, and in my rush, I did the opposite. She was angry at me to the point we fought badly; that was the first time I saw my grandma and mother agree on something."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "Alex, you don''t need to¡ª"


    "No, let me finish. It took me a whole week to accept that what I had done was wrong; my pride was just too strong, you know? A week that I can only imagine was hell for you. That was when I did an investigation of my own and found out who had lied to me; I needed to know so I could confront them. The rest you know."


    "Why didn''t you come to talk to me? You could have told me what had happened. You didn''t need to hold that for so long."


    "Ha... You really think that, don''t you? I suppose I can''t blame you for forgetting, but I tried. You were so angry that you avoided me, and then again and again until I stopped trying. Not saying you were in the wrong, by the way; I can''t say I wouldn''t do the same if our roles were inverted. So yeah, your assumption is right, in a way; I''m helping you for my own peace of mind."


    "..."


    This time, we both stay silent; that creates an uncomfortable atmosphere around us, taking the whole corridor.


    There isn''t much I could do in this situation, yet I know one thing I could.


    I get up to my feet, forcing my hands against the cold ground until I''m standing upright. Alex''s eyes avoid mine until I''m at her side; then, I sit down beside her quietly.


    "What do you think we forget about it, huh? You and I start from scratch, here and now. We can leave all this shit behind us. I know for a fact it wouldn''t be of any good for us to leave this unsettled for any longer."


    It is strangely easy how I throw the anger I once had in me away. Maybe it is because I know the truth now, or perhaps it was never meant to be that way.


    I see now that she was never an asshole, but instead, the asshole was me. She''s right when she says I assume too much; that is something I need to stop if I want to be happy for once.


    At the end of my words, I extend my hand to her in a friendly gesture.


    "You seriously think that¡ª" The look she gives me is of deep incredulity, and she spends a good minute looking at me with that plastered on her face.


    Then, a scoff leaves her lips as she seems I''m nothing but serious, and again she shakes her head in disbelief. "Oh, you do. I see. You know what? This day has been all but strange through and through, so if this is the way you want to solve this, then I can''t say anything against it."


    The loneliness of my extended hand lasts not for a lengthy period as she inevitably raises her hand towards mine and shakes it in this peace treaty of ours.


    A small smile comes over my lips as an invisible, consuming weight at last drops from my shoulder, and even if Alex doesn''t show anything, I believe she is relieved of her own weight as well.


    "You know, if you ever feel alone or don''t want to spend a Saturday night tucked inside your house, I wouldn''t mind if you joined Astero, Mel, and I; we could all drink together, play Monopoly at my house, or both. A fair warning though, Mel always cheats."


    "Maybe I will; maybe I won''t. For now, let''s focus on the problems at hand." She responds with a neutral expression, quickly putting her head back on the game. "Thank you for offering anyway; that is nice of you, even if a little scary."


    A soft laugh bubbles from my chest and is quickly swallowed upon noticing something on the edge of my vision¡ªmovement near the stairs puts me on high alert.


    A woman, seemingly our age, if not a bit younger, turns in our direction while carrying in her arms a bunch of plastic bags filled to the brim with stuff. Said stuff peaks from the top, almost overboard enough to fall on the ground, leaving me to read the label ''noodles'' on one of them.


    She sways around in hopes of keeping everything from pouring over the ground, forcing her to pick it all up again; that is all the clue I need to get up and go help her.


    Even if she ends up not being the one we are after, it is still good to help someone, especially since I''ve been in similar situations before and know how badly it can be to end up losing money because you dropped a glass jar of pickles you were planning to decorate burgers with.


    Getting up and walking closer to the woman, Alex does the same, only choosing to lean against the wall and stand ready if our suspicion comes true.


    "Hi, do you want some help with that¡ª"


    I''m not allowed to finish my words before the woman nods her head and pushes onto my chest two full plastic bags, weighing a little more than I expected, making me question if I''m weaker now or if there are really so many things packed in the bag.


    "Phew! Yeah, thanks; that helps a lot. You''re a lifesaver for real." Promptly, the woman walks to my side and taps my shoulder thankfully. "I feared breaking once I started to feel it on my lower back."


    It takes a good moment, but a few grunts are enough to make her notice the difficulty I''m having as well, rushing her to point me in a direction. "Oh, sorry. Follow me. I''ll just get these ones inside, so hold on a moment; I''ll be back in a blink."


    I watch as the figure walks towards the apartment door beside Alex and stumbles to unlock it, confirming our suspicions, and then she disappears behind the door, which leaves me to wait for her to be back to take the bags with me.


    Opportunistically, the journalist reaches my side and stares at the door, using one of her hands to push one of the bags that almost escapes my arms to stability. "Tell me, what is your plan to deal with her?"


    "We''ll just wait for her to get back; then, I''ll flash my badge and ask to talk to her inside; that will allow us to talk privately."


    Moving my head with an effortful grunt, I make sure none of the neighbors are spying before completing my sentence. "I don''t want people speculating anything wrong in case she isn''t the one we are looking for here."


    At the end of my words, the woman returns breathlessly from inside the apartment. "Uff! Sorry for the wait; let me help you now." To my relief, I''m freed from the chains that are the plastic grocery bags, and I''m allowed a view of the person we are about to question.


    I see that if there is a better moment to ambush the woman, it would be here and now, so, without waiting, I produce the unclipped badge from the waistband of my jeans and lift it to guide her gaze to it.


    "Miss, I''m Detective Rivers, and the one beside me is a friend of mine; would you mind if I ask you some questions?"


    Standard procedure tells me to ask her this, but any doubt I had of this woman being the one we are looking for is washed away when her reaction to my badge, instead of being the usual surprise, is just non-existent, nonchalant, almost as if this was something she...expected to happen?


    Without the plastic bags hiding her features, I''m able to study the way she casually adjusts her blue overalls with one hand, which I am quick to notice is secured only by a singular strap as the other hangs limply over her shoulder, further reinforcing this feeling that this isn''t a surprise for her.


    "Strange. Oh well, I see he was right about you coming by today after all. That makes the whole thing another level of creepy, but it is fine." Hearing her words, I can''t help but tilt my head slightly. She signals with her head towards her apartment''s open door, causing strands of black and white hair to fall over her big round glasses.


    To my unfortunate, that impedes me from asking anything. "If we are going to talk, then come inside you two; there are too many listeners in the apartments around. Old people never seem to have better things to do."


    The woman enters the apartment, leaving us no other option but to follow behind her.


    In doing so, I keep my instinct to look at every piece of furniture at bay, choosing to prioritize dealing with the problem first.


    We reach an open living room where the woman strides towards a puff chair, leaving the plastic bags to rest atop a glass table as she falls onto the soft puff surface.


    When she is settled up, I nod my head to Alex and decide to pull a chair for me so I can properly start questioning her. "Miss, could you start up by introducing yourself, please?"


    "Sure. My name is Nam, and I work as the IT specialist at the Mountain View Academy." Nam clasps her hands together and looks at them. "Basically, it means I fix their computer and rid them of viruses when a student searches for porn on one of their machines."


    "Okay; next question. I need to confirm this before we go any further, but you''re the one we are looking for, aren''t you?" Taking into consideration the way she reacted to us in the corridor is enough to confirm, yet it is always good to hear from the suspect. "Remember that lying to me will only worsen your situation."


    "That''s right, but I would like to say that I didn''t do it for fun or because I have something against you or your podcast," Nam says, directing her words to the journalist beside me, standing up with her arms crossed, silently starting. "I just wanted to keep my neck in place, that''s all."


    "You were threatened; is that what you''re saying?" Skeptically, I look at her face more attentively, trying to find anything that tells me she is lying or not. "And this threat came from the same person who warned you we would eventually come around, yes?" I take my phone from my pocket and find the photo of my suspect, showing it to her. "This man, I mean."


    "Yeah, that''s the dude. He came around this morning when I was working on some computers, and pretty early; I don''t even know how he managed to, considering I keep a low profile, but he did nonetheless. He had this creepy way of talking, mumbling about how he had been watching and could use the abilities of someone like me. He didn''t only threaten me, but offered payment, saying that he would pay me big money to do something for him."


    I notice how she gesticulates a lot, strangely so; that detail makes me focus more on her voice, catching a few desperate notes here and there. Maybe she is telling the truth.


    She continues. "By the way, he didn''t care much for the actual hack. That''s why he asked me to wait around for you after doing the deed."


    Her words are directed at me, which causes me to raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "Me? You''re saying that he wanted me to come here?" That doesn''t sound good.


    "Uhum." She nods her head in affirmation. "He said that a detective would knock on my door, and when she did so¡ª" Leaning to her side, she grabs something from under the puff chair, bringing it into view. "I was supposed to deliver this."


    Extending her hand to me, she gives me a closed letter, smelling strongly of blood and rotten even if there aren''t any visible blood stains; holding it on my hand, knowing from whom it came, my body freezes.


    My mouth dries, my heart accelerates, and I feel like puking; this is it, a direct letter from our killer.


    While I occupy myself with opening the letter, Alex clicks on the voice recorder hanging from her neck, not to record the conversation but actually to stop it.


    I had noticed when we entered her hand lingering on it but had decided not to comment about it.


    Once with the open letter at hand, I reluctantly gaze at it, feeling wrong, almost as if I''m not supposed to.


    ''My Dear Muse. I hope you liked the little game I laid out for you. Regrettably, I had to come up with something in a hurry, so sure, it wasn''t as big as I wanted it to be; you can thank your friends for that. I grow tired of being apart from you any longer, so I propose you a deal you can''t refuse: come quietly back to your house when night falls, or else I''ll make sure your sister takes your place in our little promised dance. I''ll be waiting and watching.''


    When my eyes reach the last words from the letter, I notice Alex and Nam talking with each other; their voices are drowned out by the loud beating of my heart against my eardrums.


    I become deaf to all sounds, my palms sweat profusely, and my head hurts from thinking. The image of Mel being captured by this monster makes my heart sink.


    With a lot of effort, I unglue my eyes from the letter and get up to my feet, keeping my eyes on the ground. "Alex, could you wrap things up here by yourself? I need to go back to the station and get this evidence to Astero before he goes home."


    She nods her head; lucky for me, she doesn''t bother to look at my face, which now stands drained of color. "Go ahead. We can talk later about what you need from me." With her arms still crossed, she frowns at Nam. "I think you can help me improve my computer''s security, don''t you think?"


    Nam can only nod her head in the only answer she can muster as Alex makes sure to leave her voice recorder in view, showing that, right now, the woman is trapped on her web and has nowhere to escape.


    Using all of my remaining strength, which isn''t much, I force my feet to weakly stumble my body out of the apartment.


    Outside, the sun begins to set on the horizon, hurting my eyes when they lock on it, a cruel reminder that the time given to me is too little. I need to run as fast as I can, get my car in Alex''s house, and drive home before the moon settles on the sky.


    There''s a moment where, before I start running down the stairs, I''m forced to think about if what I''m doing is right¡ªwalking into the beast''s jaw so willingly.


    It doesn''t matter...right? I need to catch this monster and save Mel; the risk doesn''t matter.


    My fingers grasp the phone hidden in my jeans, as I remember one thing I could do to help me out, or so I hope strongly. Whether I should or not doesn''t come into question; there isn''t time enough to question that.


    So, taking a photo of the letter in my hand, I send it to Agent Yui. After all this agency did to me, messing up my week and my life, the least they could do is help me now, and I won''t let them have a choice, like they didn''t give me one.


    After the image, I send a, ''I know the truth'' just to show I''m serious before complementing it with my address, ordering them to meet me there in half an hour, more or less the time I have left.


    Then, I shove it in my pocket to be forgotten and start my marathon back home, pulling energy from god knows where just so I can start.


    <hr>

 Day 4: -So Close Yet So Far-

    Day 4


    <hr>


    ''When was the last time I felt like this?'' I ask myself in my mind as I dare a look at the vanity mirror. ''Deeply scared and so pumped up with adrenaline that all I can feel is the increasing difficulty to keep my lungs filled with air?''


    My face looks shadowed, devoid of any features; that''s because my vision darkens ever so strongly as time goes by, making me unable to focus for long periods on anything, even if I try my hardest.


    Blinking away intensely, I manage by a hair to postpone the darkness behind my eyes for later, if only by a minute more.


    I think I was supposed to feel the engine''s roar through the wheel; at least that would be the usual, but the thigh grip I keep on its leather body is so strong that the blood flow to my fingers is cut temporarily, turning them pure white and stealing my ability to feel through them.


    The intense, natural dance between the sun and moon ends abruptly, just to remind me of the time running out.


    Night starts to settle in, and the clock strikes true.


    Revving the engine of my beaten car, I push it and myself over our limit, the consequences of such a decision not even crossing my mind.


    All streets become static; cars cannot be seen over their extensions.


    Everyone that should be somewhere already is, and that''s perfect because that means there isn''t anyone to endanger with my reckless driving.


    ''Otherwise, I would have to arrest myself.'' The laugh that escapes me sounds desperate, cracked, and tired.


    A silver line of hope reflects on my stinging eyes; the silhouette of my house grows close to me, or better said, I grow closer to it.


    There must still be time; no, there needs to be time.


    When I manage to get in front of it, the force I use to kick the brakes down is inhumane, a product of the adrenaline, for sure; the stop is so sudden that the car threatens to flip over, but the rubber tires grip hard against the street, saving me from that fate.


    The whining of help from the same rubber tires against the ground hurts my ear, nauseating me. Worse yet, a sound escapes from the engine, one that I don''t recognize but can''t mean anything good.


    Extending one hand beneath the wheel, I turn the key off, killing the crying engine before it breaks beyond repair and guiding my free hand to the door''s handle.


    It all happens in seconds; I pull the handle on it and find the door opening before I manage to complete the action.


    An unknown hand yanks the door, soon reaching for me. I''m unable to react fast enough to the attack, and so the person succeeds in gripping my head.


    POW!


    Pain shoots up from my skull all over to my core before echoing back; my head is bashed against the wheel mightily.


    Warm blood flows down my nose instantly as the vessels burst, coating my lips as gravity pulls it down.


    Not satisfied, the person repeats the action; this time I''m able to turn my head just enough to avoid getting my nose broken.


    Thinking as fast as I can, I try to find a way to defend myself from the attacker. It takes a moment, but when an idea ends up surging in my pained head, I act quickly upon it, reaching for the passenger seat, or more exactly, for what is hidden beneath it.


    It takes some effort¡ªan effort that threatens to rip the muscles from my arm as their elasticity is tested like a rubber band.


    I grasp my hand around the cold handle of the emergency metal box, bringing it out of hiding and swinging it against the figure''s arm.


    The sound of breaking bones reverberates from the arm''s center, loud enough to be worrying.


    The moment they feel the pain, they instantly retreat their hand and, as if that wasn''t enough, courageously stick their head inside the car. Not wanting to give them any chance, I swing once more and manage to get a good hit to the side of their head.


    That seems to finally do the trick, as when I complete the motion I''m able to watch the figure stumble and start to fall backward, or so I think, before their hands grasp my leg and pull me out of the car with them.


    I gasp as I feel the world pull me down, and for a moment, it feels like flying, only downwards.


    Hitting the back of my head against the car, my body vibrates and hits the ground painfully; my back instinctively bends as a pained groan claws out of my throat.


    "Motherfuc-" Summoning some strength through my anger, I raise my head to get a look at who''s attacking me, expecting to find the killer I''m after, but the face I see drains all color from my face, crafting a cold feeling to surge in my stomach. "Robson? What are you¡ª"


    My mind hurts, and this time I can''t tell if it is because of the fall or if it is caused by what I''m seeing.


    The man in front of me looks like a monster; his dark skin, once healthy and strong, looks rotten and dirty, and his eyes that always harbored kindness appear off, colorless¡ªdead.


    "You''re not him, you''re not!" Screaming seems to do nothing but make the creature in front of me gaze at me, using his hands to push against the ground and prepare to pounce on me. "Don''t you do it; stay where you are. I''m warning you, stop or I''ll be forced to shoot."


    Reaching my hand inside my coat, I whip my trusty pistol out, brushing my thumb against the safety lever¡ªsomething that should bring a feeling of safety but actually does the opposite.


    Sweat builds in my palm and forehead, forcing me to get a better grip on the gun and shake my head to throw the tears of sweat away from reaching my eyes.


    It is like the gun means nothing to him; even when I aim it straight at his chest, he doesn''t react as expected from a normal person. No fear crosses those dead eyes; only a dark, empty void stares back at me, consuming any courage I try to find in me.


    "Please...Don''t make me do this; not to you." I try freeing my leg to kick him away, but he dodges closer, using his body weight to stop me from using my legs. "He did this to you, didn''t he? Even when I came here as he asked...Fuck, FUCK! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? HUH?"


    From the edge of my vision, I notice shadows moving, closing in on me; some are familiar faces, people who live near me; others I don''t recognize but am sure I saw them around the city.


    Different from Robson, they look mostly normal, but their eyes are turned into their skulls, exposing the scary white of their eyeballs. Seeing them not blinking transforms this scenario more uncanny with each passing moment.


    Doing a quick count, I see maybe six or seven; if there are more, I can''t see them as the ones around me block the view on purpose.


    They form a circle around me and stand like statues, seizing any path I could take to run, ending any chance I might have had to escape. By how they are focused on the scene, I start thinking they are waiting for what I''ll do, expecting what will come next.


    In the end, I''m forced to focus back on ''Robson'', who ignores my words and leaps towards me anyway. A rock that I didn''t even notice he got emerges, securely grasped at his hand, and ultimately aimed to bash my head.


    My finger that stays in contact with the trigger tries desperately pulling it all the way back, but the face in front of me isn''t just from anyone; it belongs to one of the few good people around the city¡ªit belongs to someone I respect¡ªa friend.


    I tremble so hard that my teeth clash together; memories replaying in my head push me to the edge of my sanity.


    All but painful reminders that take me back to a similar scenario that I once lived and promised myself that I wouldn''t let it happen again.


    This feels like an inescapable joke from God¡ªto be forced to relieve my worst trauma.


    "..."


    I hate this cruel world; all that it ever does is eat away at me.


    BANG


    The pistol in my hand recoils as a projectile escapes its barrel, creating a flash of light that could blind me and a deafening sound that kills any sounds coming from the man.


    A cold, grotesque liquid splashes on my face, something that instinctively makes me recoil away and close my eyes tightly. A plain thud sound makes me whimper, holding back the reflex to vomit while swallowing my tears.


    I hate myself.


    -Fifteen Minutes Before-


    The police station''s bright lights bring to life a street that, otherwise, would be engulfed by darkness; inside, the windows reveal very little movement, not uncommon at his hour.


    After searching inside for the detective, going as far as asking the front desk worker to try calling her personal phone, the agents fail to locate any sign of the detective.


    The only information they get is that she was seen working around the city not long ago.


    The hope that once was to find her in her office and craft a good excuse for their absence through the day on the spot now crumbles, so Agent Dalia and Agent Yui are forced to exit from the front door empty-handed, no closer to find the detective than they were minutes ago.


    "You know, this doesn''t come as a surprise. A real surprise would be if the detective had put her work aside to wait for us; even if that would be something very sweet of her to do." Pushing their healing body past their limit, Yui attempts a lighthearted laugh, only to end up bringing a pained cough and a sharp breath from their lungs. "That bitch vamp; I''ll tell you, next time I see that fucker, I won''t even need to inject him with DMB; I''ll straight up break his little fangs."


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    "If that''s what you wish, then fine. I only ask you to allow sufficient time for your body to heal properly first; the amount he injected you with wasn''t light." Dalia places her hand on Yui''s shoulder to stop them, making sure they hear and process her words. "We can''t risk the same scenario as last night happening again."


    "You worry too much; remember, I never screw up twice. At least not in a roll." Seeing that their attempt to wave away the woman''s worries only causes her to frown, Yui decides to bring their shared worry to the table. "In any way, we should be more concerned about the detective. Our vampire sure won''t put his efforts from last night to waste. That if he didn''t do anything yet."


    A rare expression takes over Dalia''s face as the agent''s words cross her ears; her muscles contort in a mix of disquietness and frustration.


    In an attempt to keep her feelings at bay not to lose her ability to think critically, she crosses her arms and focuses her irises on the pale moon above.


    "I would like to believe that we didn''t arrive late enough for him to hurt the detective; this way, we are at least allowed hopping to prevent this scenario from ever happening."


    Yui, noticing the tone and expression of her leader, decides to help ease her mind the best they can. "What do you say we get back to Colette and drive around some more, huh? Maybe we can catch her around town or on her way home."


    To the offered idea, Dalia nods her head, seeing that doing so is better than waiting around for the world to do the hard work.


    Smiling, Yui pats Dalia''s shoulder and walks a little faster in front of her, hands soon reaching for the phone nestled in their flannel shirt. "All right, let''s get back to the car then. I''ll try to make an optimized route on the GPS so we can cover the most ground in one lap."


    The two agents walk down the end of the street intending to reach the SUV parked there, close to one of the branches born from the main road. Colette can be seen inside with her head turned away, eyes focused on any sign of the detective''s car coming to the station.


    Her ears twitch as Yui opens the door and throws their body on the backseat, lazily laying down and sticking their phone up while they unlock the screen, as Dalia gets to the driver seat composedly and pulls the door closed.


    Both agent''s eyes meet, and without needing any words, Colette frowns and raises one brow, silently letting her question be read.


    "No luck on our side either." Sighing tiredly, Dalia''s hand falls on the wheel, finding comfort on the leather, still warm from when she was holding it not long back. "There was only one worker there, and they informed us that the detective was spotted working around the city. I asked, but she didn''t inform us about a specific place."


    Expecting a comment, Dalia looks at the woman.


    Seconds go by, and the silence extends far as the agent doesn''t say anything, choosing instead to look back at the road and keep her eyes peeled on the occasional moving cars that pass them by.


    Unfortunately for the two, the silence that comes vanishes suddenly, like smoke in the wind.


    "Wait, wait, wait; what? How the actual FUCK didn''t I see this before?" On the back seat, Yui raises their head in such a hurry that they almost fall on the chasm, separating the front seat from the one they are in. "Uhm...guys? There''s a chance I might have screwed us over."


    "What did you do?"


    Dalia and Colette ask, timing it so perfectly that even if the tone is different, the sound of their voices ends up mixing and becoming one whole new voice.


    Moving their hands, the desperate agent grips Dalia''s arm so rapidly that they don''t mind the strength they possess.


    Yui''s phone ends up on the woman''s hand, displaying a message from an unknown number sent almost half an hour ago that, all the agents know, can only belong to one person, more so taking into account they only have JB and their own numbers added to each other''s phones.


    The photo of a letter meant only for the detective, a clear threat to her life, paired with the worst possible four words: ''I know the truth''.


    "There''s still time, right? The sun has set only some minutes ago; that means we can still get there in time." Yui asks with an awkward smile, guilt glistering in their eyes. "I should have seen the message before; I''m so stupid, literally failing to do my only job."


    Dalia''s throat grows dry, which stops her from saying anything in return; her reflexes, on the other hand, stand as sharp as ever.


    She throws the phone back at Yui¡ªleaving them to groan as it hits their knee in its fall¡ªthen she revs the engine until it roars thunderously, flooring the accelerator with no time to waste.


    A little over five minutes¡ªthat is all the time it takes for the agents to reach 44 Coneflower Avenue, and when they do, they are greeted by a nightmarish sight.


    Seven half-turned humans form a tight circle around an easily recognizable car. The worn-out features turn the job of remembering who it belongs to non-existing, and with one careful look, it becomes even easier to notice a woman with her back pressed against it.


    Then, ripping the night like lightning, a gunshot echoes through the empty street, completing a lap on the whole block before dissipating; nocturnal birds fly away from their resting place atop the street wires.


    By the angle they have, telling if the detective was the one responsible for the sound is impossible, creating a sense that time is of the essence if they want to have a chance to save her.


    "You two, go together and knock the targets out; be careful not to hurt them beyond what we can help with." Shutting down the engine, Dalia opens her door and barks orders without moving her gaze from where the detective is.


    "But what do we do about the detective?" Yui asks worriedly, using the little time granted to them. "Shouldn''t we get her out of there before she sees us in action? I mean, wouldn''t that be the play if we don''t want her to know what we are?"


    "It''s far too late for us to worry about that." Biting her lips angsty, Dalia admits with some effort. "At this point, we can''t keep the truth from her, so we do our job; we move now and deal with the possible outcomes when we are all in a safer place."


    One nod of the agent''s head and the three of them begin to move fast to intercept the situation before the worst happens; Dalia closes in on the detective''s unmoving body, and simultaneously, Yui and Colette move in almost perfect sync, fists ready to bash some heads into the concrete, mostly in a non-lethal way.


    Colette''s eyes dart from target to target, devising in her head a plan to deal with the bodies that will be left after they are done.


    "You''ll drag them away once they are out; hide the bodies." The woman adjusts her speed to the other agent, catching up and making sure they listen.


    "Ay ay, Captain." Like a good soldier, Yui nods and sighs, doing a good job of hiding their frown from being thrown order after order. Their lips then curl into a confident grin once they think of something. "I just so happen to know the best place to put them; don''t you worry about it. No one will find them soon; no one but us, of course."


    A dance of opposites¡ªColette''s claws don''t put in an appearance, even when three of the half-turned humans turn in her direction and rush with rocks and kitchen utensils in hand.


    Instead of giving in to her bare-bones instincts, she takes in a deep breath and focuses on adjusting her form.


    Calmly, she raises her hand to her chest and, box style, starts ducking and eluding the attackers, waiting until she gets an opening to strike, targeting jaws and the side of the head to maximize knocking them unconscious.


    As per Yui, they grin widely as they bathe in the wind rushing against their face¡ªfinding fun at the moment¡ªspeeding up like a bullet once the other four targets attempt to turn their heads to the sound of the speedy footsteps.


    "Sorry, you guys will have to wait your turn." With a taunt, they seize the chance for them to react with a cool double-flying kick to one of the targets, a middle-aged man''s chest, lining it up beforehand to smartly create a domino effect where each ends up on the ground as a result. "Jackpot. I should be rewarded with a gold medal for this."


    Differently from the harbor, where the monsters were workers who spent their whole day carrying heavy boxes and so were very strong people, these ones are completely different; just innocent housewives and tired suit and tie workers, no stronger than the average Joe.


    Because of that, the fight doesn''t manage to last long, and soon enough all of the half-turned humans are either on the ground or being taken away by the fading figure of Yui, who uses their supernatural, vampiric speed to cross long distances on the city, carrying the bodies into the night, to a place only they know.


    Dalia, who stayed on the sidelines until now¡ªhiding behind the detective''s car, patiently waiting for the right moment to act¡ªfinally gains ground to act.


    Approaching the detective, the understanding of what happened hits the agents like a sledgehammer; a corpse lies motionless on the ground in front of the detective, black, putrid blood pooling from a hole in their forehead.


    Her near-perfect memory wouldn''t fail her now, guaranteeing the quick recognition of where she saw the dead man before.


    Expecting to see a crying face or the woman frozen in shock, Dalia decides to delicately touch her shoulder in hopes of providing any type of comfort, even if a little.


    Betraying her expectation, she finds the detective''s eyes locked on the gun she holds, her face stained with the blood belonging to the dead, almost enough to distract any curious onlooker about the emptiness that takes over her eyes.


    Mud eyes, lacking the wetness provided by tears; stolen of the reflection of the moon in them.


    "Poor soul, I can''t imagine how''s your head at this moment." Taking pity at the hurt human in front of her eyes, the agent moves to grab the gun out of the woman''s hand only to be interrupted by the sudden barking coming from inside the detective''s house. "I only wish we had gotten here in time before you were fated to do such a terrible thing."


    Joining her side quietly, Colette ignores the body lying lifeless on the ground and studies Olivia; the expression on her face brings nothing to her, so she is quick to switch her gaze to her leader.


    "Someone is coming from inside the house." While talking, she grabs the dead man and lifts him off the ground. "We move now; before we are caught."


    "Hey guys, all the bodies are secured in a nice place; no need for thanks, though I would¡ª" The agent is interrupted by Colette throwing the corpse to their arms, pointing with her head for them to move.


    They sigh and nod, only stopping to look at the detective and her state; they open their mouth to talk but ultimately decide not to and disappear to hide the last one.


    "Detective, are you able to walk on your own?"


    A gentle voice asks, distorted by my ringing ears; the woman in front of me rests one hand on my slumped shoulder, ready to lift me in any given second.


    Blinking once, I raise my eyes to meet hers; Agent Dalia''s eyes lighten when she sees me moving, more so when I open my mouth to talk.


    My throat closes; the words are sent by my mind and lost on their way, resulting in a weak grunt escaping my lips instead of a sentence.


    I give up instantly on talking, choosing instead to try getting up on my own, and the moment I show some difficulty due to the strange numbness taking over my legs, both agents start pulling me up.


    "Let''s get her to the car; we can think of where we will land after we are out of here," Dalia says, receiving a nod from Colette as an answer and so initiating their walk to the SUV, keeping the stumbling me in the middle of them.


    My eyes wander around, flashes of what just happened constantly taking my mind over and over; the image of the bullet entering Robson''s skull is forever engraved in my eyes, even when I close them.


    I try looking back at my house, using every bit of strength I have left to find comfort in its sight, only to end up with the contrary.


    Atop my house, a human shadow moves; their back bends as they watch me intently with a corrupted smile reflecting the moonlight.


    In a flash, they move their focus away from me and bend their back, assuming a throwing pose, like a pitcher in a baseball game. The target? The person walking directly in front of me: Agent Colette.


    WHOOSH


    Successfully jumping forward, my shoulder painfully connects with the wall of a woman as she inhumanly reacts to my action, managing to almost fully turn around before I reach halfway to her, which is no more than a meter.


    Maybe because of the adrenaline I don''t feel any pain, but the sound and motion leads me to believe my shoulder has dislocated. No matter, the important thing is that I push her out of the way before the inevitable happens, and it does.


    Time seems to slow down, making me capable of seeing her expression going from animalistic anger to deep surprise as her eyes catch the shadow of a moving object en route to where she stood.


    Then, a sharp, nauseating pain originates on the side of my head as something hits it with such force that it tests how far my neck can bend and if my mind can take anymore.


    Blood crosses my face the moment I meet the cold ground, entering my eyes and stealing my vision before the darkness can; for a moment, I see a world burning red.


    Shadows of what I deduce are the two agents moving near me, coming into contact before one shoves the other in the opposite direction, seemingly discussing before one approaches me in time with the light going out in my brain.


    ...


    I don''t see anything anymore.


    A drunk woman kicks the door of her house open, her face marked by a pattern belonging clearly to a sofa, as a dog bravely takes the lead, growling at the wind. Her gaze wanders outside as she points with a TV controller, trying to aim with it, thinking it to be her weapon.


    Disappointingly, the warning from the dog led her to find nothing at first glance outside; not that she tries too hard to find anything.


    "Pirate, baby; you woke me up for this? I told you, there''s no raccoon outside stealing from our trashcan...at least not tonight."


    Her blurred eyes wouldn''t allow her to be sure of that, but still, she dismissively waves her hand and yawns as drowsiness takes her over. "I''m going back to sleep; maybe I''ll heat some hot pockets before that."


    Timely with the woman talking, the one-eyed dog explores the street, making sure no threats are nearby. It reaches an area where a black liquid polls, near a familiar car.


    Curiously, he smells the substance. When the rotten and acidic smell enters his lungs, he whimpers away and dashes away back to the house and his owner.


    The scene is watched by a man standing across the street, cloaked by the shadow of a broken street pole, smiling widely while keeping his arms open, embracing the moonlight.


    It would be easy for the man to just snatch the drunk woman away, seeing the current state she''s in, but that would not do; she''s not the one he wants anyway.


    Bathing in today''s victory, the figure looks at the dog as it stops at the door and finds him. Lifting a finger to his pale lips, he smiles and disappears, leaving the dog to bark at nothing, soon being taken back inside for that reason.


    <hr>

 Midnight: -L?th膿-

    Midnight


    -Somewhere Dark-


    <hr>


    I run and run through a dark forest, my barefoot digging the dirt beneath my soles with each desperate step, twigs snapping and prying open my skin, bleeding me like a pig; rocks break the nails of my toes, exposing the pulsating, sensitive meat once protected underneath to the cold, suffocating air.


    Only the sound from me reverberates in the woods: my heavy breathing, paired with the insanity-inducing white noise and the noisy beating of my heart against my ear.


    Silence¡ªI have a little time left.


    Every scream that leaves me is swallowed by the wind as the wicked winter howls.


    Having eyes lose purpose in the dark as I''m stripped of my sight almost completely, now serving only to confuse my already insane mind when they catch a tree moving; questions arise if I''m alone or not in this limbo.


    Then, the waves break; a simple house shines in the distance¡ªone of the few things that I''m allowed to see clearly¡ªturning me into a drawn moth towards the fire.


    Swallowing the fear down my chest, I grow closer to the house''s back door, passing by a garden with a homemade swing, kid toys, and a doll whose eyes follow my every movement.


    Placing a cold hand on the even colder handle, it''s easy to twist it open; in my rush, I''m unable to avoid tripping down and end up hitting my shoulder on the door, pain echoing back and forth in my core as I fall.


    Finally, I''m inside; the moment I''m granted my complete sight back, I look around while finding my balance again.


    Unfortunately, even as I stop running, there isn''t a feeling of safety to be felt¡ªonly a nagging on the back of my head.


    Figures distorted of what should be furniture, voices echoing¡ªtoo many at the same time for my mind to process.


    Bending and placing my hand on my knees, deep, moldy air takes over the lungs, accompanied by a sharp headache; images flash in my mind: Keys, a radio, a ski mask, and a gun¡ªsomething I dreamed of? What does it mean?


    It is all too familiar; even so, I can''t seem to remember.


    It feels claustrophobic, like the walls are closing in, and something is out, hunting for me.


    Doors start squeaking without being open, floors creaking devoid of steps, and something dares to breathe against my ear hoarsely.


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    The time to rest ends abruptly; a fire burns; the house seems to have woken. Something inside of me stirs, telling me to run; I might just have walked into the beast''s jaw.


    I look around for an exit, but before I can find one, a sharp pain hits me, engulfing me so strongly that the feeling is that I''m going to pass out soon.


    Something shining on the ground underneath a rotten wooden board steals my attention.


    As I''m brought to my knees by the pain, I decide to investigate so I don''t succumb, feeling that if I do give up, I die.


    Raising my fist feels hard, like lifting a body, and bringing it down feels wrong¡ªsmashing the rotten wood in pieces in order to reveal what should be kept buried forever.


    Not even giving myself time to process the image, I wrap my fingers around it and bring it out; doing so, I blink.


    Something changes; the air feels a bit easier to breathe¡ªless putrid.


    "It''s best if we wait; if it is just the two of us, we won''t be able to do anything." A voice warns me, shaky and anxious; holding my arm, the person the voice belongs to holds me¡ªa chain, freezing me in place. "Backup will be here soon. Let''s wait for them."


    I remember this scene; it was hell even before it started.


    Melissa and I had just arrived at the scene after we got the occurrence by the radio; back then, she was too scared to do anything; we just had joined the force.


    Her fear...I should have resonated with it; perhaps if I had, I wouldn''t be haunted to this day by what followed.


    Instead, when I heard the screams, I didn''t think twice before I jumped out of the vehicle; the car key dangled in my hand, the same as the flashing images and the item I just found; how hadn''t I recognized it until now?


    Some bandits, escaping the police from the big city after a failed heist, decided to find a spot to lay low until the smoke was gone. The perfect place for that was our city, of course; we are all blessed.


    They had chosen a random house they thought to be empty due to the reforming material pooled on the veranda; they were wrong. The house wasn''t empty; on the contrary, a happy family had just moved in and was renovating it.


    Their faces, I could never forget. When I saw the two bandits pulling an angry father, a protective mother, and their terrified daughter out of the house to use as hostages, how the kid cried, hugging a doll in her arms, and how the men, wearing ski masks, were surprised to see a lone officer in front of them.


    They pointed their gun at me, barking orders that never reached my ears, and I aimed mine right back at them; at that moment, there was no turning back. The pieces were already in place.


    At that moment, I was one hundred percent taken by adrenaline, so when a gunshot suddenly ripped the air and a bullet passed centimeters from my ear, I reacted mindlessly.


    Shot after shot, one after the other, the gun screamed in my hand; my fingers felt glued to it, and my eyes blurred until all I could see were distorted figures and red painting the walls.


    Luckily, before I''m forced to relieve any more of this haunting scene, I blink and am taken back to the woods.


    The forest is revealed to me; all the trees that moved before showing their true form: people, stripped of any human features, composed of a black liquid, all looking at me with void eyes. Even without distinguishable faces, they are all familiar to me; I could never forget, even if I tried.


    This time, too tired of running, I instead fall to the ground, hitting my knees on the sharp, cutting grass below, waiting for my punishment.


    The dark liquid starts to hug me as soon as it gets close to my frail body, pulling me under the corrupted soil, where I deserve to be.


    ...


    Of course, it is never that easy. This isn''t the end; the nightmare has just begun.


    <hr>

 Day 5: -Epanè°©lipsi-

    Day 5


    <hr>


    White, blinding, infinite.


    Opening my worn, upset eyes, I''m greeted with a monotone square ceiling light above me, shining a blindingly pale light¡ªhurting. This is unfamiliar to me; in fact, everything around me is.


    The sound of birds chirping happily and wind striking the trees and stealing their leaves fills the space¡ªit is almost good enough for me to believe that it isn''t fake.


    The magic is sadly broken when my ears catch the source of the sound, coming from two spots in the room¡ªfrom inside the wall.


    A tall, extending window resides on the left, light unmindfully shining from it, no different than the one from the ceiling; artificial, lifeless¡ªdepressing. It is unjust to call it a window when it doesn''t do its only job; there is no outside view.


    Reaching for any memories feels like walking on thick mist, every attempt leaving me with the feeling there isn''t a solid ground to walk on, no definitive path to reach them; afraid to miss a step and fall to oblivion, I seize the attempt. In the end, all that is left is a blank space from where should be the memories belonging to yesterday''s night.


    Unable to do anything else, I sigh; being this chained down, stolen from any demanding action tires me out.


    In an attempt to sit down, a sharp pain, almost unnoticeable, grows from my right arm; looking at it, I spot an IV line connected to my arm, which limits my motion to a certain, short range. I tilt my head, curious to know where I am¡ªa hospital, maybe? I don''t remember checking in.


    More careful now; I''m successful in sitting up on the bed.


    The sheets feel cold, and the mattress is slender and uncomfortable, stealing me of any possible comfort.


    One singular strand of hair falls by the motion and blocks my vision, or so I think, seeing it isn''t my hair; the lack of the curls tells me that.


    Grasping it between my fingers carefully, attentively to the feeling, I lift it up and notice what it truly is: a white fabric, spongy in texture. Following it up with my fingers to where it originates, I find it wrapped securely around my head.


    This time, using any brain cell is unnecessary to deduce what the thing is; I''m far too used to its texture. The only question is why my head is wrapped in gauze.


    Unable to hold the curiosity at bay, I end up touching what it hides; a warning is sent the moment my fingertip grazes at the covered area, pain urging me to leave that particular area alone.


    Because of the intense, not subtle feeling, I quickly obey, retreating my hand to my chest.


    Dried blood glues to my fingers, gifting me with a good hint¡ªthe image of a rock comes to me, a single frame before it hits its target.


    A nauseating headache thrashes me hard, memories starting to shake up, but something inside of me holds them captive, like a dam, keeping the stream uniform so I won''t drown.


    The groan that parts my lips is uncontrolled in volume, stripping me of my courage to dare peek through the crack again so soon.


    Seconds ago, when I first opened my eyes, I thought I was alone; the lights didn''t make it easy to see the surroundings very well, but now that I had time to get used to it, a detail reflects on the edge of my vision.


    The room I thought would only host me actually has two more people, both of whom are nearly unnoticeable.


    Colette is the first one I notice since she stands up, back resting against the far-end wall; her eyes watch me sharply, coldly, reacting to every move of mine. For some reason, her gaze makes me shiver; is she angry at me? It is slightly hard to notice through her tense movement, but I catch her hand re-hooking a phone to the wall.


    The other one, unlike her, stays unmoving¡ªdeep asleep.


    Half of their body touching a chair, and the other half, their head and chest more specifically, laying on the empty space of the bed where my feet don''t reach. Their easily recognizable shaggy short hair freed from the ponytail they use most of the time; the silence in the room helps me notice a purr leaving Yui with each breath.


    Breathe in, breathe out; doing that, I gather enough courage to look back at the rain of knives to ask a question, seeing that if I don''t, I might not go anywhere for the next hour.


    "Uhm, can I ask where I am? I don''t recognize these walls; is this one of the hospitals from outside the city?"


    No response leaves the woman as she turns her face away from mine, unbothered to assimilate the words further; she starts focusing solely on something lying beside me, and when I turn to see what it is, I notice the room''s door.


    Timely, it slides open to reveal a figure entering the room, their low heels clicking against the floor, the sound filling most of the empty space.


    Familiar long blond hair dances like it has a life of its own as the figure moves inside confidently and closes the door behind her, impeding me from getting a look at the corridor outside.


    Blue eyes seize everyone in the room, starting with the woman next to the wall phone, the same person she nods her head to in a thankful gesture before roaming closer to me.


    Julia''s eyes fall on me, bearing softness in them; for some reason, the pity I catch on the reflex of her iris taxes my mind even more than my injury.


    This exact scene has happened once before: me lying in a hospital bed, stared at with pity and worry, followed by attempts to lift my spirit up; I guess this is just normal for people to do. Even so, I can''t help but feel exhausted as the memory strikes me.


    I think she catches that, or at least that is what I read from how she stops when catching my expression.


    It doesn''t last that long, fleeting in seconds as I''m sure she is here to interrogate me; she has the same look on her face I was taught to wear when in these types of situations. Good cop and silent cop, Colette and her.


    Circling the bed, she stops on my left side to leave Yui to their rest on my right and slowly rests her hand on a lone chair.


    "Hello, Olivia." Straightening her black skirt, the woman adapts a formal tone and sits down composedly. "I''m happy to see you awaken so soon; your recovery seems to be going well. How''s your head? Do you feel any residual pain, or maybe some headache?"


    "No, I''m fine." I lie, simply, because saying anything else would mean delaying this conversation. "Can I know where I am and why?"


    "Currently you''re in a private hospital owned by the agency I''m contracted by; the location specifically I can''t tell you at the moment; to ease your mind, I''ll just say that you''re not too far from home, so don''t worry." She smiles¡ªif genuinely or not, I can''t tell. "Now, for the reason why, I think it would be best if you answered that yourself. What do you remember about the events of yesterday''s night?"


    To her question, I look at my hands, evaluating if I should really answer that sincerely, but what reason do I have not to?


    This seems like one of those situations where lying or telling the truth is irrelevant; after all, she sure knows already.


    All that she needs is to know how much I do.


    "I remember checking the apartment complex with a friend to help them with a problem; there I found a letter belonging to the killer, telling me that I should go home before nightfall or else..." My eyes feel like being pulled down, the skin stretchy and stingy. "He said there would be consequences, so I did as ordered, but not without sending it to Agent Yui so I could have some backup in case things turned out bad for me."


    Julia raises her hand, stopping me from continuing momentarily. "And would you remember what you sent them? Beside the letter, I mean."


    I nod my head. "Yes, I didn''t know at the time if the letter alone would be enough motivation, so I decided to play my cards. I sent them a text saying, ''I know the truth''; that was my only hope to get them to do something in time with my arrival home."


    "Good, that''s good; do you remember why you thought those words would trigger that to happen?"


    "Because they are true, and from what I learned, you guys seemed very keen to keep me from finding it out." It isn''t easy to admit, but that makes sense; too, it is the only truth I can find. The strange things I saw this week¡ªthis way I can find logic in them; they were here to keep me from finding out. "I know your agents are the shadows I saw on the mill; I know that they can do some things that are beyond human, and I know that what you said about your agency wanting to help Havenport is just a lie to cover up your true intentions."


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    The woman seems hurt by my words, quickly trying to respond to them. "Olivia, I do understand why you would arrive at that conclusion, but I need you to understand that there are good reasons why such decisions needed to be made; there are more at stake than you¡ª"


    Before she can continue, something takes over me; even if I would prefer to stay quiet, something bubbles inside of me, making me bark my words over hers, drowning her voice with mine.


    "No, save it; we are far past that point. I would like to thank you because if it wasn''t for your phone call Friday, in the parking lot of the Two Horned Betsy, I would have never gotten the final piece I needed to tell myself I wasn''t going crazy." That drags a reaction out of her as her composed form crumbles before my eyes; out of instinct, I scoff a short laugh. "Ha, I''m sure you didn''t expect anyone to be nearby back then, right? You talked about the mayor, about how easy it was to get what you wanted from him, and about how you intercepted one of our important pieces of evidence from reaching the lab¡ªthe blood Astero collected. Well, it actually was werewolf blood, right?"


    I bring my knees close to my chest, feeling the pain being washed away by my anger; it comforts me a bit.


    "Do you know how it feels to look at a friend''s face and..." My hands tremble as the reverberate of the shoots still courses through me, the taste of iron on my tongue, and the blood still present on my face, even if it has been wiped clean. "I had to kill an innocent man, and, worse yet, I can''t even tell if the monster took my sister in my place; so, for all I''ve done until this point, I only ask you to be straight with me."


    The air hangs heavy inside the room¡ªso much so that one could taste it if they tried.


    Colette, who has been in silence until now, moves away, reaching for the door and disappearing behind it; as per Julia, she finally seems to get serious, her lips becoming a thin line.


    "If that is what you want, then I''ll grant you that; you did more than enough to deserve so." Taking in a deep breath, the woman locks her gaze on mine. "There are many things I can''t tell you now; my work requires that, but I''ll answer three questions I believe you might find useful. What is the agency? What is the real identity of the agents under my care? And what comes next?"


    True to her words, she starts answering.


    "The agency is an organization, not bounded by politics, born from the purpose of keeping the humans from learning about the supernatural as a whole, since if the existence of, ''monsters'', as they see it, would surely cause chaos on the world. Too, we are responsible for dealing with any supernatural who causes any problems or threatens to expose the truth."


    "The agents you worked with are all supernatural beings, as you probably know at this point. Colette is a werewolf, Dalia''s a witch, and Yui''s a vampire. Before you ask, I''m human, and the one pointed as their handler, a title given to those in command and who have a spot at the fun table, where all of the big decisions are discussed and voted. If you want to know more about any of the agents, I suggest you ask them yourself."


    "Lastly, because you know about the truth now, normally I would be asked to present you with two choices. You would be able to either have your memory about us wiped so you can go back to your normal life, forgetting the supernatural exists, or join us, becoming an agent yourself. Unfortunately, with the situation as it is, I am unable to; my superiors value your position at the police station and want you to keep going until this case is over, then you can make your choice."


    As the words finish leaving her mouth, a phone in her pocket rings once, forcing her to bring it out and check the notification. A sigh leaves her mouth before she turns to me with an apologetic shake of her head.


    "My time is up; I have to go back to my paperwork and attend a meeting in half an hour."


    She then gets up to her feet, adjusting her clothes to look presentable, yet her eyes stay on mine; like when she entered the room, she returns to that same gentle expression, only this time I can tell it is not fake. "Olivia, I understand you need some time to process it all, and that''s completely fine. Just, due to your injuries, you won''t be going anywhere, at least for today, so why don''t you explore a little? You can talk with my puppies, ask them questions, or you can just rest here; it''s your choice. When you feel better, come talk to me in my office."


    Then, just like that, she''s gone out of the door; questions are left planted in my head, all blooming over each other at the same time and competing over center stage so hard that it hurts my brain.


    I don''t know how to feel now.


    It would be so easy to throw all the blame at her, at the agency she works for, but that wouldn''t be right; there isn''t a world where I''m able to convince myself that the blame is one hundred percent from anyone else but me.


    Would I do the same in her place? I don''t know...maybe.


    I need time to think and to rest, but I''m too plagued to try going back to sleep, and I''m not in the mood to stare motionless at the ceiling while dissecting my own mind just to go insane in the end.


    Being alone with my thoughts is always unpleasant; my head never seems to stop swirling, wasting all my energy only to get nowhere.


    To my luck, I''m not alone.


    Something I almost forgot, or rather, someone is still in the room with me.


    I see Yui''s eyes open, the deep slumber they were before gone in a heartbeat; they were never asleep, were they?


    Their focus lies on me, studying the expression I involuntarily make while thinking, and then, when I remember about them and catch their gaze, Yui moves their eyes away nervously.


    Strange how their face looks so contorted by something¡ªbrows slightly slanted down and lips devoid of any form but a simple line¡ªon them, the expression is uncomfortable to watch. If I didn''t know best, I would say they are as plagued as I am with something.


    Blowing the bad stuff out of my system, I shake all thoughts away and conjure a smile on my broken lips¡ªa cut I hadn''t noticed before in them opening up and causing mild discomfort, yet I hold it.


    "You don''t need to do that for me, you know? Not when..." They beat me to it, their low-toned voice flowing before I can say anything; turning to me, they look in my general direction, not meeting my eyes anymore, but rather focusing on the space beside my head. "I''m sorry, detective; I guess I''m not as good at my job as I would like to imagine."


    A laugh parts their lips as they attempt to smile, dry and weak. "I guess that means no gold medal for me, ha..."


    "Yui, are you..."


    I stop myself before asking; even if I don''t know them very well, I can see that the moment I ask, they''ll just laugh it off or say it isn''t anything.


    So, I sit up properly to assume a more comfortable position, crossing my legs and resting my hands on them; doing so, I willingly open some more space for them to sit where they were laying their head.


    "Come on, sit with me; I want to know what''s on your head, and in the process, maybe you can help me avoid going insane. So, how about it? Let''s talk a bit."


    Their eyes lighten up, more literally than I expected, going from monotone, downcast dark brown to shining low orangish.


    Nodding their head exaggeratedly, they rise up from the chair, push it away with their feet, and sit down on the empty space; this time, they don''t shy away from looking me in the eyes, curiosity overshadowing any resistance they had before.


    "Okay, this is definitively not weird at all; sorry, but I gotta ask...Weren''t you supposed to be mad at me? Well, mad at everyone, I guess. We just screwed you over big time." They ask, their tone not low anymore, assuming in its place the pitch I recognize them for. "I mean, we hid the truth from you, messed up evidence¡ªnot because I wanted to, I like to add¡ªand that kind of resulted in you getting hurt and all. No one would blame you if you lashed out at us; at least I wouldn''t."


    Intertwining my fingers together, I nod my head, finding a lot of sense in what they are saying¡ªif only it was that easy. "Yeah, I could; but what good would that do to me anyway? In the end, if it weren''t for you guys, I probably would have been taken away and killed, so I am in no position to get mad beyond a few scolds here and there."


    "But if I had seen your message when you sent it to me, we would have gotten there in time and kicked those fuckers asses before they had done anything. If anything, this shitshow just happened because¡ª"


    I, with a relaxed move of my hand, disarm them from saying anymore; gently, my fingers fall onto their shoulders, surprising them momentarily. "Yui, look, I might be just a normal human girl, dumb to this new world opening up in front of me, but I''m no kid; I can recognize my own screwups. One that I can easily remember out of the bat is that I fell right in that trap out of my own choice; I could have been more patient, and then maybe things would have been different."


    Each word that escapes me is eaten up by Yui as they look deeply into my eyes, deeply focused; that motivates me to continue. "We could spend the whole day doing just this, reminiscing about what could have been different and accusing ourselves of blame, but I want to know more about these new things so I can catch the killer once and for all. For that, I need you; so, I''ll ask, can you get me off this stupid IV line and teach me?"


    In just a frame, Yui prompts themselves closer to me, their hands pushing on my crossed legs to find some balance, which isn''t so easy due to how hard they nod their head, but they make it work.


    "I''m not good at teaching stuff; Dalia is the one who likes to do that, but I can show you around until you can talk to her. Let me just free you from this stupid thing." Like ripping a bandage, they get the needle out of my arm so fast that I don''t feel anything, and then they look back at me, eyes burning true orange, mirroring a furnace. "I promise you, we will get this fucker and make sure he can''t eat without a straw for the rest of his pathetic life."


    Grinning, a laugh escapes their throat; truly looking like a devil. Because of their movements, their hand, which still hasn''t left my legs, moves a little further up, enough for them to finally notice.


    "You know I can''t walk if you keep pressing me down, right?" I ask, pointing out the fact with an acted frown on my brows; unfortunately, I''m unable to have a laugh as they instantly note that I''m not really mad, changing their grin to a flirtatious smug as a response.


    "Well, JB said you had to stay here for the rest of the day, and I don''t see why we can''t waste an hour or two together; and if you don''t want to be pressed down, I''m fine with that¡ªI know I said it before, but I''m a very open-minded person."


    This time, a little more used to this side of them, I manage to control myself and let out a simple laugh instead of turning as red as a tomato.


    "One thing at a time, what about that? Wasn''t you who said something about winning points? You can start by helping me get up."


    Now, this is the same Yui I saw on the harbor; they smile widely, acting as if they won the lottery before doing what I asked and jumping off the bed, helping me soon after to get up.


    I start putting some weight on my feet to test out if I''m able to walk, and while doing that, I notice I''m wearing one of those hospital gowns, the type that is open in the back.


    "Oh, I almost forgot; here''s your washed and cleaned coat." It impresses me how quick they move, disappearing to the other side of the room, grabbing the coat from one of the chairs, and appearing in front of me. I''ll definitely need some time to get used to that. "It sure would be very bad if someone filed a complaint about you walking naked around the agency''s corridors, even if that''s a nice idea for the next time I play truth or dare in a hospital."


    "And that happens a lot in your life?" Laughing at their words, I put on the coat, feeling the breeze on my back disappear.


    "I don''t know, is two times considered a lot? Because if it is, then you can say I''m guilty as charged."


    The smile on their face is so proud that I decide to not shine any of my thoughts about it, and with them back to normal and I a little less plagued, we leave the room.


    For now, I split from the nightmares and pains impregnated on the sheets for later, when I have more of a stable head to deal with them¡ªall I can hope for.


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