《Conticent: Far Worse》


 Chapter 1: Loop

    I lit my cigarette. Again, another victim. Another lost soul.


    The glow illuminated the dark alleyway, rain pouring down like there was no tomorrow. Police sirens blared in the distance as officers secured the scene, stringing crime scene tape across both entrances. This was the third murder in the same alleyway. We were officially dealing with a serial killer¡ªa disturbed one, at that. Just my luck.


    A man¡¯s body was nailed to the wall by his arms and legs, his chest carved open and his head severed. His heart rested grotesquely where his head should have been. The head itself was missing. Either the killer had taken it as some kind of sick trophy or discarded it elsewhere.


    Reporters clustered behind the crime scene tape, their camera flashes going off every few seconds. Some of them were trying to bait the officers into commenting on the murder. Of course, no one said a word. This wasn¡¯t just any crime. This had all the signs of a vampire¡¯s handiwork. That¡¯s why we were called in instead of the regular police. Things had gotten serious.


    ¡°C,¡± someone called from behind me. ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late. West Antapolis traffic¡ªyou know how it is.¡±


    I turned and saw Jane Howard approaching. I dropped my cigarette, crushing it under my heel. I could see a reporter with a bright yellow hood recording the crime scene while talking to the camera he had set up. They were everywhere¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I said.


    Jane¡¯s newly dyed crimson hair swayed as she walked, her hands stuffed into her coat pockets. She was the same age as me, and we worked together in the same department: Preternatural Affairs.


    ¡°Ugh,¡± she muttered, glancing at the scene. ¡°What a sight.¡±


    ¡°Right?¡±


    ¡°What do we know about him?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Waiting on forensics to finish up,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯re not too happy we¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Who, the forensics?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Well, you get paid double their salary and only show up for vampire-related murders,¡± she quipped. ¡°Meanwhile, they have to deal with everything. I¡¯d hate us too.¡±


    Just four days earlier, we¡¯d wrapped up a case involving a paranoid woman who killed her best friend for having an affair and threatening to tell her husband. Now, we were looking at a massacre. Life in West Antapolis had a way of kicking you when you were down. I hated this city with every fiber of my being. But, like the stink of its alleys, it clung to me. Even if I leave the city, the city wouldn¡¯t leave me.


    One of the forensic techs raised his hand and gestured for me to come over. I obeyed, weaving my way to the body. With each step, the scene became more gruesome. Blood still dripped from the corpse, and his skin wasn¡¯t as pale as I¡¯d expected. He hadn¡¯t been dead long.


    ¡°Definitely a vampire attack,¡± the tech said, pulling off his gloves. ¡°We found fang marks on his left arm, and all signs point to him being turned before he was killed.¡±


    ¡°How do you know he was turned?¡± I asked.


    ¡°He had late-stage cancer,¡± the tech explained. ¡°Didn¡¯t want to die, so he paid a vampire to turn him. But instead of keeping his end of the bargain, the vampire killed him¡­ probably.¡±


    Jane folded her arms. ¡°Some people are just idiots,¡± she muttered. ¡°How do you know he had cancer?¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°His girlfriend¡¯s here,¡± the tech said, nodding toward the opposite end of the alley.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go talk to her, C,¡± Jane said, already moving.


    ¡°You go,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll examine the body some more.¡±


    ¡°Suit yourself. Don¡¯t take too long.¡±


    I grabbed a pair of gloves and slipped them on before walking up to the body. A small ladder, borrowed from a nearby store, had been placed next to the wall to allow the forensic team to examine the victim without taking him down prematurely. They wouldn¡¯t remove the body until the cause of death and the details of how he was pinned to the wall were thoroughly documented.


    Climbing the ladder, I turned on my phone¡¯s flashlight and began examining the corpse. The skin had an unnatural quality¡ªpatchy, with areas that seemed darker or lighter than others. Something felt wrong.


    There was a fang mark on his left arm, clear as day. It practically screamed vampire attack. I crouched slightly, checking his pockets, only to find them empty. I knew the forensic team hadn¡¯t taken anything¡ªI¡¯d been watching the entire time. One button on his pants was undone, which struck me as odd. Either he hadn¡¯t noticed it or he¡¯d been in a hurry.


    ¡°Hmm.¡±


    Raising the flashlight, I leaned closer to the heart resting grotesquely where his head should have been. The blood had a faint pinkish hue, further evidence that he¡¯d been turned into a vampire before death.


    Stepping down a couple of rungs, I grabbed the victim¡¯s hand to examine his fingernails. Or rather, where his fingernails should have been¡ªthey¡¯d been completely yanked off. My guess? He¡¯d fought back, scratched his attacker, and the killer had removed the DNA evidence by ripping out his nails. This guy hadn¡¯t gone down without a fight.


    I sniffed the air. Something strong and chemical lingered. Lifting his hand closer to my face, I took another whiff.


    Glue. And¡­ wine. I could also detect something faint and unfamiliar, but I couldn¡¯t quite place it.


    ¡°Glue and wine,¡± I muttered. ¡°Huh.¡±


    ¡°Oi, leave the body,¡± one of the forensic techs barked. ¡°You can screw him after the autopsy.¡±


    ¡°Good. Can¡¯t wait,¡± I replied dryly, stepping off the ladder.


    ¡°Damn weirdo.¡±


    I ignored the remark and began walking toward the end of the alley. Over my shoulder, I saw two officers and three members of the forensic team struggling to remove the nails pinning the victim to the wall. Whoever had done this either wanted to send a message or was completely unhinged. In West Antapolis, it was hard to tell the difference between too.


    Removing my gloves, I ducked under the crime scene tape and approached Jane, who was talking to a woman seated on the open trunk of a police cruiser. The woman held a bottle of water, sipping between shaky words. She looked pale and on the verge of breaking down.


    ¡°¡­and then,¡± the woman stammered, ¡°they told me they found him here. Oh my god. Who did this? Who? Vampires?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know yet,¡± Jane said calmly. ¡°Did your boyfriend have any enemies? Problems with bad people?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the woman replied defensively. ¡°He was an angel.¡±


    ¡°Where was he working?¡± I asked.


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t,¡± she said, wiping her tears. ¡°He was a translator for some couple online. They were shooting porn, and he was translating it into English.¡±


    ¡°That alone was enough to pay for his rent?¡± Jane asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°He was living with me,¡± the woman replied. ¡°The house is mine. No rent. God, is he really gone? Fuck¡­ fuck. I want to see him. Please.¡±


    ¡°Did he drink?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Drink? Only water,¡± she said, her voice sharpening. ¡°He didn¡¯t like alcohol. Hated it.¡±


    ¡°Wine? Did he drink that?¡± I pressed.


    ¡°No!¡± she snapped, glaring at me. ¡°What are you trying to imply, you fuckface?¡±


    ¡°No need to get aggressive,¡± Jane interjected, offering a strained smile. ¡°We¡¯re just trying to piece things together.¡±


    I hummed thoughtfully, stepping back. ¡°Do we have a search warrant for the house, Jane?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she replied. ¡°Helion just called me. We¡¯re good to go, C.¡±


    Helion was the district captain of Kiruha, the area where this murder had taken place. Before we could investigate anything further, we needed his approval, naturally.


    ¡°You got your car?¡± I asked. ¡°I took the bus here.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Jane said. ¡°Leo and James are already headed to the house. We¡¯ll meet them there.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s go, then.¡±

 Chapter 2: Roundabout

    Leaving the other officers to handle the woman, we made our way to Jane¡¯s car, parked in front of an apartment building. Two more vehicles were stationed near the sidewalk, their headlights dimly illuminating the rain-slick street. A few reporters, quick to spot us, rushed over with questions about the murder. We ignored them, keeping our heads low as we pushed through the crowd.


    The rain intensified with every passing minute. Dark clouds churned overhead, blotting out the moon and stars. It was a typical night in West Antapolis¡ªcold, chaotic, and unrelenting. The city mirrored its people, unpredictable and unforgiving. Morning might bring rain, night a sudden snowstorm. I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I¡¯d seen this godforsaken city under a clear, sunny sky.


    Sliding into the passenger seat, I leaned back as Jane climbed behind the wheel. She buckled her seatbelt, pressed the ignition button, and brought the engine to life. I pulled a cigarette from my coat pocket, lit it, and cracked the window slightly to let the smoke escape.


    ¡°What was the victim¡¯s name?¡± I asked after a long exhale.


    ¡°Jacob Dun. Twenty-eight,¡± she replied, reversing the car smoothly. ¡°His girlfriend¡¯s name is Mire Opra. Twenty.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± I muttered, taking another drag.


    Jane glanced at me as she pulled onto the road. ¡°What did you find while examining the body? I saw you sniffing his hand. Romantic.¡±


    ¡°I caught the scent of wine and glue,¡± I explained.


    Her eyebrows rose slightly. ¡°Wine and glue? That¡¯s¡­ strange.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. And we still don¡¯t know how he was killed.¡±


    She smirked faintly. ¡°His head was chopped off, C.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know if it was post-mortem.¡±


    ¡°Fair point,¡± she admitted. ¡°We¡¯ll have to wait for the autopsy. They¡¯ll figure out if the heart came out first or the head¡­ or, I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s like that chicken and egg thing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed.


    The crackle of my walkie-talkie interrupted our conversation. A calm, artificial voice announced, ¡°Officer Cratehala?a Vann, you are in close proximity to a report received fifty seconds ago. Please proceed to the scene immediately. Location: Kiruha, Honey Street, Offroad Apartments, inside the roundabout garden. Victim: deceased male. Age and name unknown. Other officers are already en route.¡±


    ¡°Another one,¡± I muttered, grinding my cigarette against the ashtray that was below the window.  ¡°You know the place?¡±


    Jane turned on the sirens and made a sharp U-turn. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s about two minutes from here.¡±


    I checked my sidearm, pulling out the pistol to ensure the magazine was full. Silver bullets, locked and loaded. Sliding it back into the holster, I leaned against the window and sighed. Two murders in such a short span¡ªthis wasn¡¯t just a coincidence. And the report had come straight to Preternatural Affairs, bypassing the regular police. Something wasn¡¯t adding up.


    I glanced at Jane. She was biting her lip, her face pale and tired. The sleepless nights were catching up to both of us. Preternatural Affairs didn¡¯t deal with the volume of cases the regular police did, but our workload came with higher stakes and more gruesome fatalities. Maniac vampires ensured that.


    ¡°You think it¡¯s the same killer?¡± Jane asked, breaking the silence. ¡°The guy likes pinning his victims to walls.¡±


    ¡°The report¡¯s from a roundabout,¡± I replied, my tone measured. ¡°Not much wall space there.¡±


    Jane yawned and rubbed her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re right. Ugh, I¡¯m so tired.¡±


    ¡°Join the club,¡± I muttered. ¡°Damn this city.¡±


    ¡°Worst place in the world,¡± she grumbled. ¡°Wish I¡¯d been born in England or something.¡±


    ¡°More rain?¡± I teased.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Less shitty people,¡± she quipped with a faint smirk.


    I chuckled softly. ¡°You might have a point.¡±


    I gazed through the windshield, watching the rain streak upward due to the wind. The city¡¯s neon lights flashed incessantly, their vibrant pinks, blues, and reds as headache-inducing as ever. West Antapolis was a place best suited for tourists, not long-term residents.


    Jane honked the siren twice, urging the car in front to move aside. Instead of complying, the driver rolled down his window, stuck his head out, and flipped us off. He was crawling at 20 in a 50-speed zone. To make things worse, his girlfriend was clearly giving him a blowjob.


    Jane groaned, rolling down her window. ¡°Get a room, ya fucking dorks! Move out of the way!¡±


    ¡°Suck my dick!¡± the man hollered back, grinning. ¡°But wait your turn! Ha!¡±


    Jane clenched her jaw and exhaled sharply. ¡°I swear, sometimes I¡¯m glad I¡¯m not a regular cop. Dealing with jerks like him all day? No, thanks.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, pros and cons,¡± I muttered. ¡°Though the cons sure as hell outweigh the pros.¡±


    The idiot finally sped off, and we turned left, heading toward the Offroad Apartments. As we neared the scene, a sense of unease settled over me.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Jane started, her eyes fixed on the road. ¡°I¡­ eh, never mind.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    She shifted uncomfortably. ¡°What would you do if you weren¡¯t a cop?¡±


    I thought for a moment. ¡°Open a ramen shop.¡±


    ¡°A ramen shop?¡± she repeated, raising an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re as dull as your face, C. Really.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough. What about you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be a pimp, probably.¡±


    I chuckled softly. ¡°A pimp, huh? Classy.¡±


    ¡°Damn right,¡± she replied with a smirk, slowing the car. ¡°We¡¯re here. That¡¯s the roundabout.¡±


    Jane parked next to two cop cars, both awkwardly stationed on the sidewalk due to the lack of space.


    Stepping out, I scanned the roundabout. Two officers were lying on the ground, motionless. The streetlights around the area were out, shrouding everything in darkness. Uneasy, Jane and I exchanged glances and drew our weapons.


    Out of nowhere, a figure lunged at me from the right, landing a punch square on my face. My gun slipped from my grip and skidded under the car. The attacker slammed me against the vehicle, then followed up with a brutal kick that sent me sprawling into the passenger seat, shattering the window as my back crashed through it.


    Instinctively, I kicked the door open with enough force to smack him in the face. He stumbled back, giving Jane a clear shot. She fired twice, hitting him once in the shoulder.


    Scrambling out of the car, I dodged another swing and tackled him to the ground. Straddling him, I struggled to pin him down. But he reached for a dagger in his boot and drove it toward my stomach. I caught his wrist just in time, the blade barely piercing my skin.


    ¡°Shit!¡±


    Jane¡¯s boot collided with the attacker¡¯s head, knocking him out cold. She extended a hand to help me up, then quickly inspected my wound.


    ¡°You¡¯re fine,¡± she assured, brushing the dirt off my coat.


    ¡°Was he¡­¡± I paused, retrieving my gun from under the car. ¡°A vampire? He¡¯s wearing a mask.¡±


    ¡°No clue,¡± she replied, catching her breath. ¡°Go check on the officers. I¡¯ll keep an eye on this idiot.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    I cocked my gun and scanned the area, ensuring no one else was lurking nearby. The street was eerily silent, the only light coming from a few apartment windows and the traffic signals at the roundabout.


    Crossing the road, I crouched beside the first officer. He was alive and unbitten, breathing steadily. Relief washed over me. And the other one too. They were safe.


    The roundabout¡¯s garden, surrounded by knee-high fences, caught my attention. Gun in hand, I stepped over the barrier and made my way through the overgrown grass. A sign in the center read, ¡°To the fallen. To our brothers and sisters.¡± Beside it¡­ lay a severed head.


    I grimaced, shining my phone¡¯s flashlight on the grisly find. ¡°I assume you¡¯re Jacob Dun¡­¡±


    A gunshot echoed behind me.


    ¡°Jane!¡± I shouted, darting back across the street. A bus narrowly missed me as I sprinted toward her.


    She was lying on the ground, her phone shattered beside her. Thankfully, she was alive. I helped her to her feet, frantically checking for bite marks.


    ¡°Were you bitten?¡± I demanded.


    ¡°No,¡± she groaned. ¡°It was dark, so I turned on my flashlight to get a better look at his face. Next thing I know, he¡¯s on me¡­ shit, he escaped!¡±


    ¡°A vampire,¡± I muttered. ¡°Lucky we weren¡¯t bitten.¡±


    ¡°How about the officers?¡± she asked, brushing dirt off her jacket.


    ¡°They¡¯re alive. No bites,¡± I replied grimly. ¡°I found Jacob¡¯s head in the roundabout.¡±


    ¡°Damn,¡± she muttered. ¡°That complicates things. Fuck me. Shit.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed, holstering my weapon. ¡°It does¡­¡±


    ¡ª

 Chapter 3: Dead man talking

    This was far worse than we¡¯d thought.


    As the forensic team swept our clothes for possible DNA samples, a large police van pulled up, effectively blocking off this section of the roundabout. We were instructed to head over, one by one, for a mandatory bite-check. Since I had made first contact with the suspect, I was up first.


    An officer opened the rear doors of the van and gestured for me to step inside. The interior was tight, stripped down to essentials: a small laptop on a fold-out table, a single overhead light, and sleek panels embedded with sensors lining the walls.


    ¡°Undress,¡± the officer said curtly, shutting the rear door.


    Stripping down to my boxers, I shivered slightly as the van¡¯s cold metal floor pressed against my feet. The overhead light dimmed, and the sensor panels activated, emitting a soft blue glow that washed over the space.


    ¡°Stand still,¡± came a disembodied voice from the walls, smooth and mechanical.


    The glow swept over me like a scanner, stopping briefly at my arms, neck, and chest before continuing downward. A soft chime followed, and the panels blinked green.


    ¡°Clear,¡± the voice confirmed.


    The rear door opened, and the officer gave a nod. ¡°You¡¯re good to go, Officer C.¡±


    I dressed quickly, feeling the eyes of the forensic team on me. Getting bitten was no joke¡ªit meant carrying a special vial of anti-turning pills at all times. The pills could stave off the infection if taken immediately, but if you missed the window¡­ well, there wasn¡¯t much the doctors could do.


    Stepping out of the van, I adjusted my coat and looked around. Jane was waiting nearby, her arms crossed.


    ¡°Leo and James are here,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ll go with them. I¡¯ll stay and see what the lab techs find with the head.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± I replied, nodding. ¡°Be careful.¡±


    ¡°You too,¡± she added, offering a faint smile.


    As I approached the two officers leaning against a squad car, the sharp tang of cigarette smoke filled the air. Leo, the self-proclaimed Casanova of the force, flicked his cigarette. His tailored uniform and perfectly styled curls made him look more like a movie star than a cop.


    ¡°C!¡± he called out, his voice as smooth as ever. ¡°My favorite officer with the unpronounceable name!¡±


    ¡°Leo,¡± I replied dryly, ¡°my least favorite officer I haven¡¯t yet strangled.¡±


    James chuckled, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. His rugged face, marked by a crooked nose and a perpetual five o¡¯clock shadow, contrasted sharply with Leo¡¯s polished appearance. ¡°So, it¡¯s true? They found a head in the roundabout?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, exhaling. ¡°I was the lucky one who found it.¡±


    James frowned, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the scene in the distance. ¡°I miss the old days¡ªsome vampire loses it, kills a bunch of people, and we track ¡®em down before they finish dessert. None of this cloak-and-dagger crap.¡±


    ¡°Guess they¡¯re getting smarter,¡± Leo quipped, flashing a grin as he tossed his cigarette. ¡°Hop in, boys. I¡¯m driving.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Joy,¡± I muttered, climbing into the backseat. ¡°You know where Jacob¡¯s place is?¡±


    ¡°Sure do,¡± Leo said, sliding into the driver¡¯s seat.


    ¡°Good. Let¡¯s move.¡±


    As the car roared to life, I leaned back, watching the rain blur the city¡¯s neon lights into a kaleidoscope of color. My gut told me this night was far from over.


    ¡ª


    It looked like the forensics team had already finished most of their work. The door was still ajar, but a few members lingered inside, meticulously gathering any overlooked evidence. Leo, James, and I ducked under the crime tape and stepped into the small apartment.


    The layout was cramped. A narrow corridor stretched straight ahead, leading to a modest kitchen. To the right of the kitchen was a door, which opened into a bedroom. Directly to our left, beside the entrance, was the bathroom cordoned off with crime scene tape. There didn¡¯t seem to be a living room.


    ¡°These guys always miss something,¡± James grumbled, glancing at the forensics crew. ¡°It¡¯s a Preternatural Affairs case. They get lazy when we¡¯re involved. Keep your eyes open.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± Leo replied, adjusting his gloves. ¡°I¡¯ll check the kitchen.¡±


    ¡°Bathroom¡¯s mine,¡± James said, rolling his shoulders. ¡°C, you¡¯ve got the bedroom.¡±


    ¡°On it,¡± I muttered.


    I entered the bedroom and slipped on a pair of gloves. The room was simple¡ªa double bed pressed against the far wall, a small table beneath the window cluttered with books and a lone laptop, and a wardrobe spanning the entire left wall. The wardrobe''s center panel featured a mirror, and an empty, grime-coated aquarium sat on top. Bits of uneaten fish food dotted the bottom.


    Moving to the laptop, I lifted the lid. A burst of moaning filled the room, and the screen flickered to life. My face instantly heated as I found myself staring at an explicit pornographic video, complete with half-finished subtitles. I scrambled to mute the sound and closed the tab.


    ¡°Guess his girlfriend wasn¡¯t lying,¡± I muttered under my breath. ¡°Translating porn for a living. Job of the year.¡±


    I sifted through his files but came up empty. His internet history was scrubbed, his notes folder barren. The only recently used program was a video editing suite.


    Disappointed, I shut the laptop halfway and turned my attention to the wardrobe. Sliding it open, I found rows of clothes neatly hung¡ªhis on the right, his girlfriend¡¯s on the left. I began checking the pockets carefully, tossing each item onto the bed.


    ¡°Nothing¡­¡± I murmured. ¡°Cigarettes and lighters.¡±


    Just as I was about to move on, a notification popped up on the laptop screen. Frowning, I reopened it.


    A text box appeared:


    ¡°Looks like you¡¯re not me. Or is it me, but the camera didn¡¯t quite catch my face? Enter my name in the box.¡±


    A second box appeared below. Warily, I typed Jacob Dun and hit enter.


    ¡°Nope. The correct answer is ¡®Dun Jacob.¡¯¡±


    Another message followed:


    ¡°How did you get my laptop? Is it still at home?¡±


    I hesitated before typing ¡®still home¡¯ and pressing enter.


    ¡°So¡­ you¡¯re not my girlfriend. You¡¯re not me. Who are you?¡±


    I typed ¡®cop¡¯ and hit enter.


    ¡°Shit¡­ am I dead?¡±


    I crossed my arms, my brows furrowing. The prompts weren¡¯t from some advanced AI; this was clearly a preprogrammed series of messages. Jacob must¡¯ve set it up, but whether it was paranoia or sheer eccentricity, I couldn¡¯t tell.


    I typed ¡®yes¡¯ and watched the next box appear.


    ¡°Was I¡­ hanged from a wall? Like the others? So the plan failed, huh¡­ poor kid.¡±


    My stomach turned as I sat in the chair. Slowly, I typed ¡®yes¡¯ and pressed enter.


    ¡°So they got to me¡­¡± Another box appeared. ¡°Would you like me to tell you a tale?¡±


    Again, I typed ¡®yes¡¯ and hit enter.


    But nothing happened.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± I mumbled. ¡°I should let the others know about this¡­¡±

 Chapter 4: Glue and regret

    I placed my hands on the keyboard, mulling over what to write next. James was right¡ªthe team either skipped this room entirely or didn¡¯t bother checking the laptop. They loved half-assing their work, leaving us to clean up the mess. What a bunch of jerks.


    Jacob clearly anticipated this scenario, setting up these messages as a safeguard in case someone¡ªor something¡ªgot to him. The laptop might hold critical clues, but we¡¯d need to analyze it further to know for sure.


    ¡°James! Leo!¡± I called, raising my voice. ¡°Come here.¡±


    Leo was the first to stride in, followed closely by James. I recounted everything about the laptop, from the bizarre messages to the strange interactions. Both men listened in silence, exchanging thoughtful glances as I finished.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s... something,¡± Leo said, scratching his head. ¡°So, we¡¯re chatting with a dead guy now?¡±


    ¡°Did the messages mention who ¡®they¡¯ are?¡± James asked, crossing his arms.


    ¡°No,¡± I replied, shaking my head. ¡°He didn¡¯t. I think we can send this¡ª¡±


    A loud boom erupted to my right. Instinctively, I ducked toward the doorway. The damned laptop was on fire, sparks flying from the outlet connected to its battery port. Smoke billowed upward, and four or five seconds later, the sprinkler system activated. Water poured down from every corner of the apartment, drenching everything in sight.


    ¡°Shit!¡± I swore under my breath, darting into the corridor. Running a hand through my now-soaked hair, I cursed the bad luck.


    James, Leo, and the remaining forensic team rushed out as well. Unlike James and Leo, the forensics crew shot me accusing glares, probably blaming me for setting off the sprinklers. I couldn''t blame them; I wouldn¡¯t want to go home in this state either. Especially when the hour was this late.


    ¡°Perfect,¡± I muttered with a dull voice. ¡°Just perfect.¡±


    ¡°Nice going, C,¡± Leo quipped, peeling off his drenched coat. ¡°Hey, looks like Jacob wanted to take his porn stash to the grave. Respect, honestly.¡±


    ¡°Have either of you found anything related to glue or wine?¡± I asked, ignoring his jab.


    James frowned. ¡°Glue and wine? Not me. You, Leo?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Leo replied, shrugging. ¡°Why do you ask? Those don¡¯t exactly go together, though.¡±


    ¡°The victim¡¯s hands smelled like glue and wine,¡± I explained. ¡°There was another faint scent, but I couldn¡¯t place it.¡±


    Leo¡¯s expression shifted as he raised his hand to his nose, sniffing it once, then twice. James and I watched him with puzzled looks. He seemed to be thinking of something.


    ¡°Uh¡­ guys,¡± Leo muttered, his tone hesitant. ¡°My hand smells like glue.¡±


    ¡°Glue?¡± I grabbed his hand and took a sniff. ¡°Yeah, it does.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Whoa!¡± Leo yanked his hand back, mock outrage on his face. ¡°At least buy me dinner first, you creep.¡±


    James rolled his eyes. ¡°You searched the kitchen, right? C had the bedroom, and I took the bathroom.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Leo confirmed. ¡°I checked the containers and drawers, but I don¡¯t know where the smell came from.¡±


    ¡°We need to get back inside,¡± I said, peering into the apartment. The sprinklers were still going strong. ¡°Damn. Hope the water hasn¡¯t ruined any evidence.¡±


    ¡°Here¡¯s hoping,¡± James muttered, running a hand through his damp hair. ¡°This Jacob guy... what a disaster. Shit.¡±


    As the sprinkler system finally ceased, we ventured back inside, heading straight to the kitchen. Everything was soaked. Frying pans and plates were scattered across the floor, and the small wooden table by the balcony door seemed untouched, save for the water dripping off its edges. On the table was a photo of Jacob and Mire, his girlfriend, smiling together at that very spot.


    To the right of the balcony door stood the fridge, its doors wide open¡ªlikely from Leo¡¯s earlier search. The counters were mostly cleared, though a few forks and spoons lay here and there, along with a toaster that had probably shorted out from the water. Beneath the counters, cabinet doors were ajar, revealing pans, plates, and containers of ingredients.


    ¡°We need to find the source of that glue smell,¡± James said, scanning the room. ¡°Any idea where you last searched, Leo? Try to remember.¡±


    Leo frowned, scratching his head. ¡°I started there,¡± he said, pointing to one corner, ¡°then checked that side, moved here¡­ then C called me. Oh, right. The last place I looked was under the table.¡±


    I crouched by the table and shone my phone¡¯s flashlight underneath. At first glance, everything appeared normal¡ªdark wood, textured surfaces. But something felt off. One of the table legs had a slightly different finish, and when I touched it, it felt looser than the others.


    James nudged me and held out his phone. On the screen was a search result for the table model, its name etched into one of the legs. The photos confirmed what I suspected: this table was supposed to have only three legs, not four. Additionally, the photo of Jacob with his girlfriend further supported my theory; the table in the photo also had three legs.


    ¡°That leg¡¯s an add-on,¡± I said, gripping it. ¡°Looks like it was glued in place.¡±


    Before I could yank it, Jane entered the kitchen, glancing around at the drenched chaos. ¡°What the hell happened in here?¡±


    Leo turned to her with an exasperated grin. ¡°Oh, you wouldn¡¯t believe it. Jacob¡¯s laptop exploded, the sprinklers went off, and now we¡¯re¡ª.¡±


    ¡°Slow down,¡± Jane said, crossing her arms. ¡°Tell me what happened here. Slowly.¡±


    As they filled her in, I refocused on the leg. Gripping it with both hands, I pulled hard. It resisted at first, but with a final burst of effort, it snapped free, sending me sprawling backward. My head smacked against the counter with a dull thud.


    ¡°Damn it,¡± I muttered, rubbing the sore spot.


    Leo moved forward as something small clinked against the floor. ¡°A key,¡± he said, picking up and holding it up to the light. ¡°Hidden inside a damn table leg. Creative, eh.¡±


    Jane leaned closer, her eyebrows furrowed. ¡°What does it open? Did you see any chests or locked boxes?¡±


    ¡°Chests? Seriously?¡± Leo scoffed. ¡°It¡¯s 2097, Jane. Nobody uses chests anymore.¡±


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s a fair question,¡± she shot back. ¡°The key looks old-fashioned.¡±


    I sniffed my hands, grimacing at the lingering scent. ¡°The leg was glued shut. Really strong glue.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t go getting high on it,¡± Leo joked. ¡°I¡¯ll send the key for analysis. Let¡¯s see if it leads anywhere.¡±


    Jane nodded, glancing around. ¡°If that¡¯s all, I think we¡¯re done here. Golden Cats?¡±


    ¡°Sounds good to me,¡± Leo said, slipping the key into a bag.


    ¡°Finally,¡± James muttered. ¡°This place smells like moldy glue and regret.¡±


    ¡ª

 Chapter 5: Wine factory

    Golden Cats.


    One of the most popular bars in the city. It was our go-to spot to unwind, with a mix of alcohol and nearly naked women¡ªthough that part didn¡¯t exactly appeal to Jane. She was more about the drinks. I¡¯d heard she had a rough past, but now she was doing better, keeping it to just a couple of beers a week. On the other hand, James was a different story¡ªhalf a dozen whiskeys couldn¡¯t even faze him.


    The bar was a neon spectacle. At the far end was a cylindrical platform encased in glass, projecting a hologram of a woman dancing on a pole. The Golden Cats didn¡¯t have windows or even traditional light bulbs; the only illumination came from a massive holographic tree in the center of the room. Its glowing blue and pink branches shimmered with startling realism, swaying with the faintest breeze caused by passing patrons. Leaves would occasionally drift down, dissolving before they hit the floor. That tree always stirred something in me¡ªa strange, unplaceable nostalgia.


    ¡°Dead man talking,¡± James muttered, swirling his beer. ¡°Crazy world.¡±


    ¡°Right?¡± Jane exhaled a puff of smoke, nodding. ¡°What a weirdo that Jacob is¡­ was.¡±


    We were seated at a table near the hologram tree, close enough to feel its faint hum. James and Leo nursed glasses of West Antapolis Red, a bitter beer, while I sipped on cherry vodka. Jane had opted out of drinking, settling instead for her usual cigarette.


    The square table bore its fair share of history¡ªscratched messages like ¡®X was here!¡¯ or ¡®Suck a cock, cuck!¡¯ stood out among the scrawls. These were remnants of the bar¡¯s earlier days, before the current owner, a no-nonsense Frenchwoman, took over. Nowadays, even an accidental scratch could get you booted out¡­ or worse.


    ¡°Still can¡¯t get over that laptop exploding,¡± Leo said, shaking his head. ¡°What kind of paranoid lunatic rigs their laptop like that?¡±


    ¡°A desperate one,¡± Jane replied, taking another drag. ¡°But it¡¯s not just him. The forensics team barely touched the thing. That message wouldn¡¯t have triggered if they¡¯d actually done their jobs. Feels like sabotage.¡±


    ¡°What can we do?¡± I shrugged, leaning back in my chair. ¡°Not much.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± she muttered, blowing out smoke. ¡°Not much.¡±


    Behind me, the bar counters stretched along the wall in a reverse ¡®U¡¯ shape. They were made entirely of reinforced glass, styled like an aquarium. Inside, fish swam aimlessly, illuminated by soft blue lights that did little to brighten the room but made for a striking display. I¡¯d once seen those counters withstand a shotgun blast at point-blank range¡ªthis place didn¡¯t mess around.


    ¡°So,¡± James began, furrowing his brow, ¡°we figured out what the glue was for. But what about the wine?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Leo chimed in. ¡°You said his hand smelled like wine too, right?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°His girlfriend said he didn¡¯t drink, though.¡±


    ¡°The autopsy will tell us if he had alcohol in his system,¡± Jane added. ¡°We¡¯ll know by tomorrow.¡±


    My phone vibrated in my pocket, interrupting the conversation. I pulled it out to see my mom¡¯s name on the screen. She was probably wondering why I wasn¡¯t home yet¡ªI¡¯d forgotten to tell her about the new case. She was an ex-cop, though. I knew she¡¯d understand.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Hey, Mom,¡± I answered. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Cratehala?a! Why aren¡¯t you home yet?¡±


    ¡°New case,¡± I explained. ¡°It¡¯s that guy¡ªthe one ripping out hearts and heads.¡±


    ¡°God punish him,¡± she muttered. ¡°Where are you? I hear music.¡±


    ¡°Golden Cats,¡± I replied. ¡°Leo, James, and Jane are with me.¡±


    ¡°Say hi to them for me,¡± she said.


    ¡°Mom says hi, guys,¡± I relayed, taking a sip of my drink. ¡°You¡¯re okay, right? Taking your meds?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Cratehala?a. I¡¯m fine,¡± she assured me. ¡°When will you be home?¡±


    ¡°An hour, maybe. Not sure.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting. Let me know if anything happens, okay?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± I said. ¡°See you.¡±


    After hanging up, Jane flicked ash from her cigarette and leaned forward. ¡°Hey, weren¡¯t you talking about getting your mom an eye implant? Whatever happened with that?¡±


    ¡°The price went up,¡± I said, setting my phone down. ¡°I could afford one now, but it¡¯d be low-quality. I¡¯m saving for Jiruha implants¡ªthey¡¯re supposed to be the best.¡±


    My phone rang again. Thinking it was my mom, I grabbed it, but the name on the screen made my stomach drop¡ªHelion. He never called this late unless it was something important. James, Leo, and Jane perked up as they noticed the name, their expressions shifting to alert curiosity. I hesitated, already sensing bad news was one tap away.


    ¡°Cap?¡± I answered, putting the phone on speaker.


    ¡°C,¡± Helion¡¯s voice came through, tense and clipped. ¡°We¡¯ve got problems.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, leaning forward.


    ¡°Jacob¡¯s brother is refusing to allow the autopsy,¡± he said.


    ¡°Refusing? Why?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s for you to figure out,¡± Helion replied. ¡°I sent you his address. Look, I can¡¯t officially tell you to ¡®pressure¡¯ or ¡®force¡¯ him, but¡­¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± I interrupted, nodding. ¡°We¡¯ll handle it. I¡¯ll call you back when we know more.¡±


    ¡°Appreciate it. Good luck,¡± he said before the line disconnected.


    I stared at my half-finished cherry vodka, the weight of the situation settling in. We needed that autopsy. If Jacob¡¯s brother refused, it could only mean one of two things: he had something to hide, or he was caught up in some religious nonsense. Either way, we had to intervene. Without the autopsy, we¡¯d have no answers¡ªno way to confirm if the wine was in Jacob¡¯s system, or whether his heart and head were removed before or after death.


    James shook his head, muttering a curse under his breath. Leo leaned back, rubbing his eyes. Jane lit another cigarette, the glow briefly illuminating her exhausted expression.


    I caught myself fantasizing about going home¡ªeating a warm meal, taking a long bath, and collapsing into bed. But now, we were headed straight into more chaos.


    ¡°Fuck his brother,¡± James muttered darkly. ¡°Bet he¡¯s the murderer. Let¡¯s just bring him in.¡±


    Jane groaned, resting her head on the table. ¡°I was this close to passing out in bed. Now we have to deal with this asshole?¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s his house?¡± Leo asked, turning to me. ¡°Cap sent you the details, right?¡±


    I checked the message on my phone. ¡°Yeah¡­ he works as a security guard at a¡ªwait. A wine factory?¡±


    All three of them sat upright, their eyes widening.


    ¡°Wine factory?¡± Leo repeated, incredulous.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± I confirmed. ¡°The smell on Jacob¡¯s hand... it makes sense now. We might find more than just his brother there.¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s go,¡± James said, standing up and tossing some bills onto the table.


    Leo grabbed his coat, muttering, ¡°This better not be another dead end.¡±

 Chapter 6: Crystal-head

    Sighing, I finished my cherry vodka and trailed behind them as we headed outside. The rain drummed softly on the cars parked nearby, and the neon lights reflected off the wet asphalt, mingling with the smoke from cigarettes held by bar-goers huddled under canopies. Kenli, home to some of the city¡¯s most popular bars, was unusually calm tonight. It made sense¡ªsince this district was neutral ground. No gang dared to stir up trouble here.


    Kenli  was an odd place. This land had once been part of the ocean, traversed by ships. But twenty, maybe twenty-five years ago, an extraordinary event caused the waters to recede unnaturally fast, leaving the ships stranded, most were cargo vessels. Golden Cat was a ship too¡ªa big one. Its deck now served as the bar¡¯s third floor, while the second housed private rooms for the ¡°working¡± girls¡ªwhat locals called ¡°premiums.¡±


    When West Antapolis expanded its city limits to include Kenli as a district, the poor who had made homes in the stranded ships were pushed out, and the vessels were sold off. Now, Kenli¡¯s residents were mostly those with below-average incomes, scraping by however they could.


    ¡°You¡¯re driving, C.¡± Leo tossed me the keys as we walked. ¡°I think I¡¯m a little drunk.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± I grunted, catching them mid-air. ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a drive. The factory is pretty far.¡±


    ¡°Which district?¡± Jane asked.


    ¡°Close to Tidbit,¡± I replied, slipping the keys into my pocket.


    ¡°Tidy-bit? More like ¡®Caravan Hell,¡¯¡± Leo scoffed. ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not actually in Tidbit,¡± I clarified. ¡°Just near it.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± James said, stretching. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope we can convince this guy to greenlight the autopsy.¡±


    ¡°Here¡¯s hoping,¡± I agreed, stepping onto the slick road.


    Kenli¡¯s streets were quiet, with no homes and only a few ships scattered around. Most of the land was covered in greenery¡ªtall grasses and trees swaying in the rain. It was hard to believe one of the city¡¯s liveliest bars was here.


    I slid into the driver¡¯s seat of our cop car and started the engine. James took the passenger seat, while Jane and Leo settled into the back. Buckling up, I adjusted the rearview mirror, reversed out of the lot, and drove into the rain-soaked darkness.


    ¡°So,¡± Jane began, breaking the silence, ¡°why do you think the killer is hanging their victims?¡±


    ¡°Sending a message,¡± Leo suggested. ¡°But to whom? No idea.¡±


    ¡°Maybe God?¡± I offered. ¡°You know¡ªJesus was nailed to a cross.¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± James said, shaking his head. ¡°If it was religious, the bodies would¡¯ve been burned, not dismembered. This feels more¡­ deranged. Like something deeper.¡±


    ¡°Fucking psycho,¡± Leo muttered before turning to Jane. ¡°You¡¯re sure you didn¡¯t see the guy who attacked you?¡±


    ¡°He was wearing a mask,¡± she replied. ¡°And it was pitch dark. No lights, nothing.¡±


    ¡°It all happened so fast,¡± I said, flicking on the left turn signal. ¡°I¡¯m just glad none of us got hurt.¡±


    ¡°Who made the call, then?¡± James asked. ¡°The one who reported the head?¡±


    ¡°They traced it to a man in a nearby apartment building,¡± Leo explained. ¡°He said he saw someone acting suspicious near the scene. His daughter was outside, so he panicked and called the cops. Then he spotted the head. At first, he thought it was a person lying down, probably passed out. Turns out, there was no body¡ªjust the head.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll need to interrogate him,¡± I said.


    ¡°Already done,¡± Leo replied. ¡°Helion doesn¡¯t waste time. This case is all over the news. If we don¡¯t solve it soon, brace yourselves for a hell of a scolding.¡±


    ¡°All over the news?¡± Jane said. ¡°How? It¡¯s like¡ªwhat, it¡¯s been one hour at most since we got to the crime since.¡±


    ¡°The Internet is a scary place,¡± Leo quipped. ¡°So as Helion when he¡¯s angry.¡±


    Jane grimaced, taking out another cigarette. ¡°Ugh, the Captain¡¯s terrifying when he yells. He¡¯s so calm most of the time, but when he snaps¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s hope it doesn¡¯t come to that,¡± James added, reclining in his seat. ¡°We¡¯ve got enough problems as it is.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    ¡ª


    The dead¡ªtheir stories never fade away, carved into the places they left behind, whispered through bloodstains and bullet holes. And the worst part? Those tales don¡¯t end when they die. They fester, pulling the living into their chaos, forcing their pain onto us... and onto Preternatural Affairs, unfortunately.


    ¡°You good, C?¡± Jane asked me. ¡°You seem out of it.¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Nah, I¡¯m good.¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­ just thought I¡¯d¡ª¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±


    I stopped the car and stepped out, pulling my hood low to shield myself from the rain. Tidbit was just ahead, but we needed to head in the opposite direction, past the gas station. It¡¯d be a five-minute hike at most, though the weather wasn¡¯t making it any easier.


    Tidbit didn¡¯t have proper roads. Most people parked at the gas station nearby, paid a small fee, and walked the rest of the way. The station also served as a convenient supply stop, with a small market offering essentials¡ªa godsend since this area was far removed from the city.


    ¡°There,¡± I said, pointing toward a distant building. ¡°That¡¯s the factory.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s hurry,¡± Jane urged, her tone sharp. ¡°This rain is killing my mood.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± James muttered, glancing at the gloomy sky. ¡°What horrible weather.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s always rainy in West Antapolis,¡± Leo chimed in, half-singing a lyric from an old song.


    We started toward the factory, leaving the gas station behind. With no proper highway access, we had to scale the fences meant to keep wildlife out. In West Antapolis, domesticated animals like cats and dogs were rare, but the outskirts of Tidbit supposedly teemed with all kinds of wild creatures.


    We headed for a section of the fence where we knew there was a small hole. James went through first, crouching and crawling to the other side. I followed, squeezing through and brushing dirt off my clothes.


    ¡°Creepy,¡± Jane remarked as she crawled through, eyeing the surrounding forest. ¡°Hope we don¡¯t run into a bear or something.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Leo chuckled, stepping through the fence. ¡°Four idiots mauled by a bear while heading to a wine factory¡ªthat¡¯d make a hell of a headline.¡±


    ¡°Do people actually walk this far to get to work?¡± Jane grumbled, falling in step beside me. ¡°This is ridiculous. Why couldn¡¯t we just drive there?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s off-road,¡± I explained. ¡°Our car wouldn¡¯t make it.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± she groaned.


    I pushed aside some tall grass and hopped over a fallen log. Spotting a steep slope ahead, I crouched low, keeping one hand on the ground for balance as I descended. The others followed cautiously. At the bottom, I looked left and spotted the highway on the far side of the fence. Cars whizzed by, their headlights cutting through the rain.


    We pressed on, the path narrowing as the trees grew denser. The sounds of frogs croaking and small creatures rustling filled the air. Above us, crimson-eyed crows perched silently on the branches, their gazes unsettling.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Jane muttered, her voice low. ¡°Not creepy at all.¡±


    ¡°Scared already?¡± Leo teased, smirking.


    ¡°I¡¯ve lived in the city my whole life,¡± she shot back defensively. ¡°I¡¯m not exactly a fan of nature.¡±


    ¡°How much farther?¡± James asked, walking beside me.


    ¡°The factory¡¯s up ahead,¡± I said, pointing through the trees. ¡°But the path isn¡¯t straight. We¡¯ll need to zigzag a bit. Two or three minutes, tops.¡±


    James nodded thoughtfully. ¡°Why do you think Jacob¡¯s brother didn¡¯t come to the crime scene? He just doesn¡¯t care?¡±


    ¡°Maybe his boss wouldn¡¯t let him,¡± I suggested. ¡°People here only look out for themselves. Wouldn¡¯t surprise me if his boss is the same way.¡±


    ¡°Or,¡± James added, lowering his voice, ¡°he hated his brother. Maybe he¡¯s even glad he¡¯s dead. Hell, maybe he¡¯s involved. Don¡¯t forget¡ªJacob¡¯s hand had a faint smell of wine. That¡¯s not a coincidence.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll find out soon enough,¡± I said, picking up the pace.


    Seeing that our path was blocked by another section of fence, we veered right, walking along its length. Jane stuck close to the group, positioned in the middle. Though I kept a calm exterior, the truth was, I felt uneasy too. I¡¯d grown up in the city, a self-proclaimed city rat. The concrete jungle might¡¯ve been grimy and chaotic, but it was familiar. Out here, surrounded by towering trees and ominous silence, I couldn¡¯t shake the discomfort.


    ¡°I hate this,¡± Jane muttered, shaking her head. ¡°I swear, I¡¯m going to punch Jacob¡¯s brother right in the nose when I see him.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the guy¡¯s name, anyway?¡± Leo asked, his voice cutting through the patter of rain.


    ¡°Robert,¡± I replied. ¡°He¡¯s thirty-four. Has a bit of a history¡ªdrugs and such.¡±


    ¡°Red crystal?¡± James guessed.


    ¡°Yep,¡± I confirmed. ¡°Used to be a crystal-head. But, he¡¯s clean now.¡±


    ¡°Man,¡± Jane grumbled, kicking at a stray branch on the ground. ¡°I hope he¡¯s the killer. Then we could just close this case and move on.¡±


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± James said with a shake of his head. ¡°You¡¯re telling me he killed his brother and managed to drive all the way out here in record time? Doesn¡¯t add up.¡±


    ¡°But earlier, you said you thought he might be involved,¡± I pointed out.


    ¡°Yeah, involved,¡± James clarified. ¡°Not necessarily the one who did the killing. Could¡¯ve had a hand in it, though¡ªlike giving someone access or setting him up.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± I murmured, considering his theory.


    We rounded another corner, and the factory came into view, its silhouette looming against the murky sky. The rain had turned the ground into a muddy mess, and every step squelched unpleasantly underfoot.


    ¡°This is it,¡± I said, motioning toward the imposing building. ¡°Let¡¯s find him.¡±

 Chapter 7: Evil

    We climbed the fence one by one and stepped into the vineyard¡¯s factory grounds. To our left, a large truck was parked in a marked yellow square, and a handful of workers were unloading crates of wine. They hadn¡¯t noticed us yet, as the darkness cloaked our approach, the streetlights failing to illuminate where we stood.


    Nearby, a dog lay curled in a makeshift shelter¡ªa wooden crate with a ragged blanket thrown over it. He was old, his snoring loud enough to rival a man in a retirement home.


    We had entered through the back, facing the rear of the building and the company parking lot. A row of street lamps lined the area, each one hosting a security camera with a blinking green light, signaling they were active.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Jane whispered. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±


    ¡°Simple,¡± James said. ¡°Find Robert, convince him to approve the autopsy, and get out of here. Then, sleep like a log.¡±


    Jane grinned. ¡°I¡¯m liking this plan already.¡±


    ¡°Is that him?¡± Leo asked, nodding toward the front entrance where a fenced gate led to a security booth.


    ¡°Probably,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s check it out.¡±


    We started toward the gate, sticking to the shadows. The factory grounds were fully enclosed by fencing, likely to keep out wildlife. The only clear entrance was the one we were approaching. Nowadays, most places relied on automated security systems, but this factory still employed an old-fashioned guard.


    As we left our cover, the workers unloading the truck spotted us. Their reactions were immediate¡ªsome gasped, others froze in place.


    ¡°Hey!¡± one of them shouted, stepping forward. ¡°Who the hell are you? You¡¯re trespassing!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re just here to talk to Robert Dun,¡± Jane said, ¡°Then we¡¯ll be out of your way.¡±


    ¡°Wait... Preternatural Affairs?¡± another worker asked, squinting.


    We stopped. James raised an eyebrow. ¡°Yeah. How¡¯d you know?¡±


    ¡°I used to be with you guys,¡± the man replied, chuckling. ¡°Recognized that god-awful holster. What brings you here?¡±


    ¡°We need to speak with Robert,¡± Leo said. ¡°Do you know where he is?¡±


    ¡°In his booth,¡± the worker replied. ¡°Probably asleep, that lazy bastard.¡±


    ¡°Not exactly employee of the month, huh?¡± Jane asked, smirking.


    ¡°Not even close,¡± another worker chimed in. ¡°The guy wouldn¡¯t have this job if it weren¡¯t for his buddy¡ªthe boss. Half the time, he¡¯s either dozing off or drinking.¡±


    ¡°Has he been out tonight?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Out like a light, sure,¡± the first worker replied. ¡°But no, he hasn¡¯t left the grounds.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± James said, nodding as we resumed walking. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    As we approached the booth, the man inside startled awake. He stumbled to the door and opened it, his face pale and groggy. The booth was cramped¡ªa small heater buzzed above the door, a battered wooden chair sat in the corner, and under the table lay a half-empty wine bottle.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see you come in,¡± he muttered, rubbing his eyes. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°We came through the main entrance,¡± Jane replied. ¡°But you were busy¡­ napping.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re inspectors,¡± Leo said with a smirk. ¡°You¡¯re fired. Cause of termination: sleeping on the job.¡±


    ¡°What? Who the fu¡ª¡±


    Before Robert could finish, James lunged forward, grabbing him by the collar and slamming his head against the table. The sound echoed in the tight space. Startled, the rest of us instinctively turned to check if anyone outside had noticed. Seeing the coast was clear, we stayed outside, by the door, unable to fit inside the cramped booth.


    ¡°Admit it!¡± James barked, pushing Robert¡¯s head down again. ¡°You¡¯re trying to cover up your brother¡¯s murder. That¡¯s why you don¡¯t want the autopsy, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°I¡ª¡± Robert stammered, struggling to free himself. ¡°Let me go! I¡¯ll call the cops!¡±


    ¡°Tell us the reason,¡± Leo demanded, his tone sharpening. ¡°Or we¡¯ll have to use force. You know we can.¡±


    Jane leaned in slightly, her voice coiling like a serpent. ¡°We¡¯ll¡­ ¡®kidnap¡¯ you and make you drink vampire blood. Slowly, you¡¯ll turn. And when that happens¡­ we¡¯ll gun you down like the dog you are.¡±


    James sneered, still pinning Robert¡¯s head to the desk. ¡°Believe me, I¡¯ll be smiling the whole damn time while filling out the report.¡±


    ¡°You¡­¡± Robert stammered, his voice trembling. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­ Let me go!¡±


    ¡°Then tell us the reason,¡± Leo pressed. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you want your brother¡¯s autopsy conducted?¡±


    ¡°Because¡­¡± Robert strained against James¡¯s grip. ¡°He deserved it!¡±


    ¡°Deserved it how?¡± Jane shot back, not missing a beat.


    ¡°It is thanks to him that my son lived! But¡ªbut I wish he didn¡¯t¡­ I¡ªah fuck it! You won¡¯t get more from me,¡± Robert spat, shaking his head as much as James¡¯s hold allowed. ¡°Now let me go. I ain¡¯t green-lighting that. No way. You can kill me if you want.¡±


    Leo and James exchanged a glance before James finally released him, and deliberately kicked over the wine bottle. The red liquid spilled across the marble floor, pooling at Robert¡¯s feet. Without another word, James turned and stepped out of the booth, slamming the door shut behind him.


    We hadn¡¯t gotten much from him, but we had a lead¡ªa grim and cryptic one. According to Robert, Jacob¡¯s death was justified. But how?


    We started back toward the entrance we had used, walking in silence. Each of us was lost in thought, piecing together theories. It was James who finally broke the quiet.


    ¡°¡®Deserved it,¡¯ huh?¡± he murmured.


    ¡°So,¡± Jane said, her voice tired but laced with sarcasm, ¡°the other two murders were ¡®deserved¡¯ too?¡±


    ¡°What do we know about the other two victims?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Not much,¡± Jane admitted. ¡°Two of them were friends, killed at different times. But Jacob wasn¡¯t a friend of theirs.¡±


    ¡°There has to be a connection,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re missing something.¡±


    ¡°Maybe the key we found in Jacob¡¯s house will shed some light,¡± Leo suggested. ¡°We just have to wait for tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Damn, that Robert guy,¡± Jane muttered. ¡°Stubborn as hell. But I don¡¯t think he¡¯s involved in this.¡±


    ¡°Jacob¡¯s hand smelled like wine,¡± I reminded them. ¡°And his brother works as a night guard in a wine factory. We can¡¯t ignore the possibility of him being a suspect. We can¡¯t trust him.¡±


    ¡°I get it,¡± Jane said, rubbing her temples. ¡°But¡­ what if he¡¯s telling the truth? What if Jacob really did deserve to die? What if he was¡­ like, I don¡¯t know. Evil or something?¡±


    ¡°You need sleep,¡± James said bluntly. ¡°You¡¯re not making any sense, Jane. You¡¯re blurting nonesene.¡±


    ¡°Ugh¡­ yeah,¡± Jane admitted, yawning. ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m too tired to think straight at this point. I need a good night''s sleep.¡±


    ¡°Same,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s head home. We¡¯ll pick up where we left off tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°And pray a fourth murder doesn¡¯t happen,¡± Leo muttered bitterly. ¡°What a time to be alive, huh¡­¡±


    ¡ª

 Chapter 8: Landlord

    Sitting in front of me was Mire Opra, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. Her eyes were red from crying, her lips cracked from the cold weather. It was clear she hadn¡¯t slept the night before¡ªunderstandably so. She was nearly my age, and I could empathize with the pain of losing someone so dear. Still, like many things in life, time could heal even the deepest wounds.


    She wiped her nose with a tissue and leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as her hands covered her face. Tears dripped onto the surface in front of her. Jane sat next to me, legs crossed, her gaze steady but compassionate. Meanwhile, James and Leo were doing outside work, talking to the neighbors, trying to gather information about the night of the murder.


    ¡°Can you tell us what happened now?¡± Jane asked gently. ¡°Take your time, no rush.¡±


    Mire sniffled, drawing in a shaky breath. ¡°W-where should I start, ma¡¯am?¡±


    ¡°You can call me Jane,¡± she replied. ¡°May I call you Mire?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes.¡±


    The room we were in was plain and functional: white walls, a brown table in the center, and an air conditioner on the wall blowing warm air. Beside the table was a small coffee stand, on top of which sat a plant with pink leaves. Like many things in West Antapolis, it wasn¡¯t natural, but it added a charm to the otherwise dull room.


    ¡°Alright, Mire,¡± Jane said kindly. ¡°Let¡¯s start with yesterday morning. What happened after you woke up? Tell us everything you can, in as much detail as possible.¡±


    ¡°We¡­ we woke up early,¡± Mire began, her voice trembling. ¡°We ate breakfast around ten. Then¡ªhe used his laptop. He was translating¡­ uh, videos for a couple¡¯s page.¡±


    ¡°Porn videos?¡± Jane clarified. ¡°You can be open about it. It¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­¡± Mire¡¯s voice dropped, and she shifted uncomfortably. ¡°Sorry. It¡¯s just¡­ that kind of thing never sat right with me.¡±


    ¡°Where can we find this couple?¡± Jane asked.


    ¡°They¡¯re in Russia,¡± Mire replied. ¡°They¡¯re not here.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡± Jane nodded. ¡°Please, continue.¡±


    ¡°Uh, right¡­ We stayed home all day. We didn¡¯t go out. Everything seemed normal.¡±


    ¡°When did your boyfriend leave the house?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I can¡¯t remember exactly,¡± Mire said, her brow furrowing. ¡°It was nighttime, though. Maybe around eight? I thought he¡¯d gone to see his brother.¡±


    ¡°You lived together for how long?¡± I asked.


    ¡°We were living separately before, but he got kicked out of his place because he couldn¡¯t pay rent. He¡¯d been staying with me for the past few weeks. I tried to keep it hidden from the neighbors. They¡¯re the gossipy type. I didn¡¯t want my mom finding out¡­¡±


    ¡°Your mom didn¡¯t approve of him?¡± Jane asked.


    ¡°Because of the age difference, yeah,¡± Mire admitted. ¡°That¡¯s why I moved us to the other house¡ªit was my grandmother¡¯s. Not many people know me there. Once we settled in, I tried to keep a low profile.¡±


    ¡°So you were living with your mother before this?¡± Jane asked. ¡°I understood correctly, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Mire nodded. ¡°But when I found out about Jacob¡¯s situation, I lied to my mom. I told her that a close girlfriend of mine had been kicked out of her house and that I wanted to help her by moving into the other property with her. She agreed.¡±


    ¡°You said Jacob¡¯s landlord kicked him out,¡± Jane pressed. ¡°Where can we find this landlord?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s in Tidbit,¡± Mire answered. ¡°His name is Kilo Pud. Lives in the red caravan with no windows.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± I said, standing up. ¡°I¡¯ll head over there and see what I can find.¡±


    ¡°Okay, C,¡± Jane said, giving me a quick look. ¡°Be careful.¡±


    As their conversation continued, I stood up and left the interrogation room, stepping into the second-floor corridor. I made my way toward the elevator, which was just about to close. I slipped inside and leaned against the wall, catching a glimpse of my dull, lifeless reflection in the mirrored interior. With a sigh, I turned my back to it.


    The elevator chimed, and the doors opened to reveal the ground floor. The shift in atmosphere was immediately noticeable. The polished, metallic walls gleamed under the soft, ambient lighting, which adjusted its brightness to match the time of day. In the center of the area, the reception desk stood, where an officer welcomed guests. Around it, plush chairs and sofas were neatly arranged for those waiting. Holographic screens hovered above, displaying the latest news in silence, while the vending machines in the corner hummed softly, offering snacks and beverages.


    ¡°C!¡± Leo called out, striding into the building. ¡°We need to talk.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡± I asked, meeting him halfway.


    ¡°Something feels off,¡± he said, his expression serious. ¡°I talked to the neighbors. They claim they¡¯ve never seen Mire before.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied. ¡°Mire was living with her mother before this. Then she moved to another house with Jacob after learning about his situation. She kept a low profile, though.¡±


    ¡°Why move to another house?¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Her mom didn¡¯t like Jacob because of their age difference,¡± I explained.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Leo said, nodding. ¡°Makes sense. I¡¯ll talk to the mom, just to cover all bases.¡±


    ¡°You think her mom¡¯s involved?¡± I asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°No,¡± Leo replied. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t hurt to check.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡±


    ¡°Where are you headed?¡±


    ¡°Tidbit,¡± I said. ¡°Jacob¡¯s landlord might have some useful information. I need to see him.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Leo said with a small nod. ¡°Good luck.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. You too.¡±


    ¡°C!¡± a voice boomed as the elevator doors opened again. Helion.


    Helion¡¯s uniform was impeccably pressed, and his blond hair moved slightly in the breeze as he approached. At twenty-four, he was the youngest and most popular District Captain in the city. His good looks and charisma ensured the media always turned out in droves for his press conferences.


    ¡°Shit,¡± I muttered under my breath.


    ¡°C,¡± Helion said, walking toward me. ¡°I heard you couldn¡¯t convince Robert to change his mind.¡±


    ¡°He was persistent, Captain,¡± I said. ¡°We tried.¡±


    ¡°Damn,¡± he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ¡°Now we¡¯ll have to wait for a case to be opened to authorize the autopsy. Since this is part of a serial killing, it¡¯ll probably take two days at most. But in those two days, that maniac could strike again. We don¡¯t have time for this.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I said. ¡°But we¡¯ll catch the culprit, Cap.¡±


    ¡°We better, C.¡± His tone was heavy, frustration barely concealed. ¡°We better.¡±


    Helion took a deep breath, his sharp gaze lingering on Leo and me before he turned and walked outside. Once he was gone, Leo and I exchanged a glance.


    ¡°Could¡¯ve been worse,¡± Leo said.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied with a dry chuckle. ¡°Story of my life: could¡¯ve been worse¡­ fuck me.¡±


    Shaking my head, I stepped out of the building and inhaled the cold, sharp air. From where I stood, the city sprawled below, drenched in neon lights and glistening rain. Headlights cut through the drizzle, and distant thunder rumbled behind thick clouds, threatening a heavier downpour. The sun was hidden, leaving the time of day ambiguous¡ªthis city¡¯s weather was as unpredictable as its people.


    Descending the stairs, I turned left toward the parking lot and fished my keys out of my pocket. I had to head to Tidbit to speak with Jacob¡¯s landlord, then make it back to the station to discuss Jane¡¯s follow-up interrogations. A long day awaited me.


    ¡°Need to eat something,¡± I muttered.


    I stopped by a nearby vending machine, fed it twenty bucks, and selected my choices. After a short wait, the compartment below slid open, and I crouched to retrieve a cup, a can of beer, and a pair of chopsticks.


    Noodles and beer¡ªthe quintessential West Antapolis combo. I stirred the noodles with my chopsticks, steam curling upward in soft tendrils.


    ¡°So tired,¡± I muttered, unlocking my car and sliding in. ¡°Ugh.¡±


    I hit the start button, took a few bites of noodles, and washed them down with beer. Feeling the chill in the air, I cranked up the heater, letting the warmth thaw me as the steam from the noodles danced under the vent¡¯s gentle breeze.


    After a faint sigh, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, I shifted into reverse and pulled out of the lot.


    ¡°Wonder what they¡¯re talking about right now,¡± I said, flipping on the radio.


    The familiar static of West Radiopolis crackled through the speakers. It was the only station anyone cared to listen to in this city, though it operated illegally from an elusive spoofed location. They weren¡¯t shy about airing the gritty truths people were too afraid to discuss¡ªand they had a particular knack for calling out the Preternatural Affairs Department.


    ¡°The city of lost souls and losers,¡± the host began. ¡°I¡¯m your host, Ali, and today I¡¯ve got my friend here, Kara.¡±


    ¡°Of course, that¡¯s not our real names, pigs,¡± Kara chimed in sharply, clearly addressing law enforcement. ¡°So don¡¯t go knocking on the wrong doors, okay? Or should I talk in the only language you understand? Oink, oink, oink, you fascist pigs.¡±


    ¡°Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?¡± Ali teased.


    ¡°Or someone¡ªor someones¡ªare still sleeping, Ali,¡± she snapped. ¡°Because the pigs at Preternatural Affairs are snoozing while murders happen everywhere! People are being hanged by their arms and legs.¡±


    I stopped at a red light, taking the opportunity to sip my beer and slurp another mouthful of noodles. The combo was as satisfying as ever, though I knew my arteries probably hated me for it. If my mom saw me having beer and noodles for breakfast, she¡¯d have a fit.


    ¡°That is... strange,¡± Ali agreed. ¡°This killer just keeps offing people. And the cops? Just watching it happen.¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯re paying them,¡± Kara added bitterly. ¡°Now, I¡¯m not saying every pig is a bad pig. Some are decent. But these guys at Kiruha Station? Lazy as hell. And no one¡¯s doing anything.¡±


    ¡°We just stopped a wraith attack at the mall,¡± I muttered defensively with a dull voice. ¡°James nearly lost his damn head.¡±


    Wraiths were less dangerous than vampires¡ªa failed transformation of sorts¡ªbut still far more lethal than humans. A real menace, regardless.


    The light turned green, and I eased the car forward.


    ¡°I¡¯ll disagree with you there, Kara,¡± Ali countered. ¡°Thanks to Helion, we can walk the streets safely. He¡¯s been handling vampire problems efficiently.¡±


    ¡°Helion?¡± Kara scoffed. ¡°That idiot who thinks vampires, wraiths, and humans can live together in peace? We eat cows, sheep, fish. Those two eat humans.¡±


    ¡°Technically, they only drink our blood.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right¡ªwhile slicing you into pieces. Sure, just blood,¡± she retorted, dripping with sarcasm.


    My phone buzzed in my pocket. Balancing the beer can between my legs, I pulled it out. Leo was calling.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, wedging the phone between my ear and shoulder. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Uh, C,¡± he began, sounding unusually hesitant. ¡°It¡¯s about Jacob.¡±


    ¡°What about him?¡±


    ¡°Can we meet? How soon can you get back to the station?¡±


    ¡°Two or three hours,¡± I replied. ¡°I need to talk to Jacob¡¯s landlord first.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. ¡°Don¡¯t be late. It¡¯s about the key.¡±


    "Don''t create unnecessary suspense, Leo," I said. "Just tell me what you found."


    "We found a locked box that the key opened. It was in his car, hidden in the trunk," he replied. "The key also had a sample of that Miri plant. You know, the red-leafed one?"


    "Hmm," I muttered, taking a sip of my beer. "Have you opened the box yet?"


    "Nope," he said. "We''re worried it might be rigged to explode again, like that laptop. So we''re taking precautions."


    "Alright," I said. "Talk to you soon. Let me know when you guys open it."


    ¡ª

 Chapter 9: Alive

    I hopped out of my car and pulled my hood low, stepping onto the narrow muddy path that led to Tidbit. The sky was still overcast, heavy clouds threatening rain, casting everything in a dim, shadowy light.


    The path was tight, bordered by tall fences on either side, with a slight slope I had to climb. The air was filled with the occasional rustle of wildlife. Some of the sounds hinted at larger animals, maybe a bear or something just as big. Fortunately, there hadn¡¯t been any reported attacks in this area. The fences seemed to be doing their job¡ªif they weren¡¯t, places like Tidbit wouldn¡¯t even exist. I recalled a rumor about a photographer spotting a lion in these parts once. Weird place.


    Ahead, a small group approached, likely heading to the gas station market for supplies. I kept my head down; people in West Antapolis weren¡¯t exactly fans of cops, whether from Preternatural Affairs or the regular force. We were despised equally.


    ¡°...Yeah, I heard it,¡± one of them said, his voice low but uneasy. ¡°People are being hanged! Sheesh. Scary.¡±


    ¡°I know, right? Wish we¡¯d left the city with Dad. I¡¯m really regretting staying now.¡±


    ¡°Vampires and wraiths are everywhere,¡± the first one replied. ¡°West Antapolis or not.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ I guess you¡¯re right. This is¡­ like a loop. You can¡¯t just escape it.¡±


    As I neared two wooden posts spaced about twenty meters apart, I recognized the entrance to the Caravan Park.


    A large cloth banner stretched between the posts read, "Welcome to Tidbit!" in faded, cheerful letters. Holiday decorations¡ªover-the-top and garish¡ªwrapped around the posts, attempting to create a festive atmosphere. To me, the flashing lights and tacky trimmings made the place look more like a seedy carnival than a warm community.


    Tidbit seemed quiet this morning, surrounded by trees and tall grass. At its center stood a large, oval-shaped fountain, featuring a marble angel statue. Its right wing was broken, and water trickled from its mouth into the basin below, recirculated by a hidden mechanism.


    Around the fountain, a few people lounged outside their RVs, drinking and chatting, while others gazed idly at the sky. Children ran through the trees, their laughter ringing in the still air, shielded from the breeze by the thick foliage. They say Tidbit had at least over fifty RVs, and over 150 people.


    ¡°C!¡± a voice called out, breaking the stillness.


    I turned and saw a young woman about my age waving from a few meters away.


    ¡°Seku,¡± I greeted as I walked toward her. ¡°How¡¯ve you been?¡±


    ¡°Good, good. Managing,¡± she replied with a grin. ¡°But I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re not here to hang out with me?¡±


    ¡°Looking for someone,¡± I said bluntly. ¡°A landlord named Kilo Pud. Heard he lives in a windowless RV or something.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, I know him,¡± she said, pointing. ¡°Head that way, pass the blue RV, then turn left. It¡¯s about ten, maybe twenty meters ahead.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, already moving. ¡°Take care.¡±


    ¡°You too, C!¡±


    I followed Seku¡¯s directions and soon arrived at the windowless RV. The door was slightly ajar, and the muffled sound of a blaring TV spilled out. I pushed the door open a little farther and listened. A deep snore rumbled from inside.


    Taking a step back, I knocked firmly on the door. The snoring ceased, followed by a raspy cough. A moment later, an older man shuffled to the door and cracked it open.


    He was likely in his seventies, bald with a fringe of gray hair. His bathrobe was faded and looked like it hadn¡¯t been washed in weeks¡ªit smelled about the same. The man was reeking alcohol and something faul.


    ¡°Kilo Pud?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yah?¡± he grunted.


    ¡°Preternatural Affairs,¡± I replied, flashing my badge. ¡°I¡¯d like to ask you a few questions about Jacob Dun.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡± he said, scratching absentmindedly at his side. ¡°Oh, oh, that guy. Yeah, I remember him. Sorry, my memory ain¡¯t what it used to be.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± he said, stepping outside, ¡°ask away.¡±


    ¡°How long did you know him?¡±


    Kilo squinted at me, scratching his head as if trying to pull the memory from a fog. ¡°Four weeks? Maybe five. Can¡¯t remember exactly.¡±


    ¡°Where was he staying before he rented your place?¡±


    ¡°His brother¡¯s, from what I heard.¡± Kilo shifted his weight, glancing toward the fountain. ¡°Then they had a fight, and he left. Found himself a new home.¡±


    ¡°Did he ever tell you why they fought?¡±


    ¡°We weren¡¯t pals, kid.¡± Kilo snorted and gave me a look like I¡¯d asked something ridiculous. ¡°I¡¯m his landlord, not his nanny.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± I muttered, tapping my fingers lightly on the badge clipped to my belt. ¡°What about alcohol? Any history there?¡±


    Kilo chuckled dryly, his laugh rough like gravel. ¡°Nah, he was clean. No booze, no crystal. Straight as an arrow, at least from what I saw.¡±


    ¡°You kicked him out because he couldn¡¯t pay rent, right?¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± He folded his arms, his gaze hardening as if defending himself from blame. ¡°Gave him five warnings. Five. He didn¡¯t listen, so yeah, I kicked him out. Last I heard, he went to shack up with his girlfriend.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Did Mire ever talk to you?¡±


    ¡°Mire?¡± He frowned, genuinely puzzled. ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Jacob¡¯s girlfriend,¡± I clarified. ¡°You don¡¯t know her by name?¡±


    He shook his head, scratching the back of his neck. ¡°Nah. Didn¡¯t even know his last name ¡®til you said it. Dun, right? Poor kid, getting murdered like that.¡±


    ¡°Did Jacob have enemies?¡± I pressed, watching his expression for any flicker of insight.


    ¡°No.¡± Kilo said firmly, but then hesitated. ¡°But¡­ there was this one time. Heard him yelling inside his place. One of the neighbors busted in to check on him.¡±


    ¡°Yelling?¡± I leaned in slightly, curiosity piqued. ¡°Was he attacked?¡±


    Kilo waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Turns out, he was having a nightmare or something. Screaming about a school, I think.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°A school?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what the neighbor said. Other than that, I don¡¯t know much about him.¡±


    I sighed, running a hand through my hair. ¡°Okay. One last question: Was he acting strange before the murder? On edge? Agitated?¡±


    Kilo tilted his head, his brow furrowed in thought. ¡°He did say something weird. Wanted to ¡®try things¡¯ before he died.¡±


    I straightened. ¡°Try things?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He shrugged, his robe shifting slightly. ¡°Didn¡¯t say what. Just that he didn¡¯t want to go out without, you know, trying stuff. The kid had cancer. Guess he didn¡¯t want to go out quietly.¡±


    I let the information sink in, my mind racing to piece it together. ¡°May I check his RV?¡±


    Kilo sighed, rubbing his face. ¡°Sure, but I rented it out to a couple. Don¡¯t be tearing the place apart, alright? And bugger off before midnight. I don¡¯t want complaints.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t take long,¡± I said, trying to keep my tone even. ¡°Just need to check a few things.¡±


    He grunted, retreating inside the RV. Seconds later, he reappeared with a set of keys. ¡°It¡¯s the small one behind that tree.¡± He jabbed a finger in the general direction. ¡°The door¡¯s tricky. Hold it up when you unlock it, or it won¡¯t budge. Oh, and the place hasn¡¯t been cleaned up yet. Just so you know.¡±


    ¡°Got it. Thanks.¡±


    ¡°And don¡¯t break anything!¡± he barked as I turned to leave. ¡°You break it, you pay for it!¡±


    I waved a hand over my shoulder, not bothering to look back. ¡°Noted.¡±


    I slowly walked toward the RV, tossing the keys in the air before catching them. As I approached, nothing seemed particularly unusual about it¡ªnothing stood out. It was just smaller than the other RVs.


    I unlocked the door as the landlord had instructed and stepped inside. The space was cramped. To my left was a small kitchen with a single counter, but no sink. Across from it was a small space with a sink, and next to that was a door leading to a bathroom.


    Looking to my right, I saw a lone bed in the corner, positioned just beneath the RV window. Beyond that, the driver¡¯s and passenger seats had been turned into makeshift couches.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± I muttered. ¡°Let¡¯s see.¡±


    I began rummaging through the drawers, checking the counters, and even searching under the mattress. There wasn¡¯t much space to cover, so it didn¡¯t take long. Just shy of five minutes later, I was done. Unfortunately, I came up empty-handed. No clues. I wasn¡¯t sure how anyone could even live here. The place was smaller than my bathroom back home. Then, next to the bathroom door, I noticed two pink panties lying on the floor¡­ this place was¡ªweird.


    As I turned to leave, something caught my eye under the bed¡ªa piece of paper. I changed my mind about leaving, crouched down, and grabbed it. It was a photo of Jacob with a woman who had her back turned toward the camera. The woman didn¡¯t look like Mire¡ªher hair was blonde, while Mire¡¯s was brown. On the back of the photo, someone had written: "My life, my love, my everything. You gave me a second chance. I love you."


    ¡°Hmm,¡± I muttered, studying the picture. ¡°Who is she? And the photo... it looks off. Something¡¯s weird about it.¡±


    I rolled the picture up and tucked it into my coat pocket, then searched the RV one last time. But there was nothing else. With a sigh, I left the RV. Just as I stepped outside, my phone rang, and I answered.


    ¡°C,¡± Leo said, his voice steady. ¡°The box is clear. We¡¯re about to open it in fifteen minutes¡ªjust waiting on the last checks. When will you be at the station?¡±


    ¡°Half an hour,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll wait for you. Be quick.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡±


    ¡ª


    I parked my car and hopped out, the damp evening air clinging to my clothes. Mud caked my boots as I climbed the steps to the station, leaving smeared footprints behind me. Inside, the fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, and the faint aroma of stale coffee lingered.


    At the far end of the room, Jane and James were huddled over a laptop on a coffee table. They sat on the worn-out couches, their postures tense. The glow of the screen illuminated their faces in the dimly lit corner.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I called out as I approached, pulling back my wet hood. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±


    ¡°Come, sit.¡± Jane gestured, scooting over to make space for me.


    ¡°What¡¯s in the box?¡± I asked, settling beside her.


    ¡°Thumb drive,¡± she said, her tone clipped.


    ¡°What¡¯s on it?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re about to find out.¡± Jane clicked on a file labeled I¡¯m me.mp4, and the video began to load.


    The screen flickered to life, and there he was¡ªJacob Dun. He fumbled with a camera, adjusting its angle. The setting was grimly familiar: the same alley where his body had been found, suspended by his limbs.


    ¡°Jacob Dun, your favorite boyfriend here,¡± he said, his voice shaky. ¡°I¡¯m going to tell you a tale, Mire. I hope¡­ this video, uh¡ªwell. You know, I was¡­¡± He trailed off, visibly nervous.


    He scratched the back of his head, bit his lip, and shifted uneasily, casting furtive glances around. After a sharp exhale, he steadied himself in front of the camera.


    ¡°I did it for myself,¡± he admitted. ¡°At first, of course. I needed to help him. But then¡­ I liked it. I liked it. West Antapolis corrupted me. This city is¡­ this¡ªI just, I don¡¯t know¡­¡±


    His voice faltered, and he paused, staring off into the distance. The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.


    ¡°The school¡­ it was a¡­¡± He groaned and bit his lip again, frustration on his face. ¡°Ah, forget it. I¡¯m not gonna tell her. No way.¡±


    The video ended abruptly as Jacob¡¯s hand reached for the camera.


    ¡°What was that?¡± I asked, leaning back.


    ¡°The videos were deleted,¡± Jane said, frowning. ¡°But the tech team recovered them. There¡¯s another one. Maybe it¡¯ll shed more light.¡±


    She clicked on the next file, and Jacob appeared on screen again, still in the alley.


    ¡°If you want to be loved, think with your heart,¡± he said, his tone bitter. ¡°If you want to win, use your head.¡±


    He smiled faintly, but the expression didn¡¯t reach his eyes. Rain pattered against the camera lens, distorting the audio.


    ¡°Every night, I have the same nightmare,¡± he confessed. ¡°Is it because I used my head? Or my heart? Or¡­ am I just a bad guy?¡±


    He shook his head, his eyes widening as if he¡¯d stumbled on a painful truth.


    ¡°Of course I¡¯m a bad guy,¡± he said, answering himself. ¡°But at least I lived, Mire. You changed me. And I¡¯m going to atone for my sins.¡±


    The video cut off, static crackling as the rain overwhelmed the equipment.


    ¡°School?¡± James murmured, leaning forward. ¡°Atone for his sins?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s more,¡± Jane said, her voice tense. ¡°Our guy liked to tell stories, huh?¡±


    The next video played. The morning sun illuminated Jacob¡¯s face this time. He held a photograph, his expression soft yet haunted.


    ¡°I love you, Mire,¡± he said quietly, staring at the picture. ¡°I¡¯ll always love you. I can¡¯t stop looking at this. You look¡­ damn ridiculous. You¡¯re such a dork.¡±


    The screen glitched momentarily before returning. Now Jacob was holding the photograph up to the camera. My breath caught¡ªit wasn¡¯t Mire. The woman in the picture was blonde and didn¡¯t look like her one bit, her youthful face frozen in a carefree smile.


    My phone buzzed in my pocket. I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. ¡°Leo, what¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°God¡¯s massive balls, C,¡± Leo panted. ¡°Mire¡­ she¡¯s not who she says she is! I checked with her mom¡ªshe kidnapped a girl here. I found her.¡±


    ¡°The kidnapped girl¡ªshe¡¯s blonde?¡± I asked, dread pooling in my stomach.


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± Leo stammered. ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡±


    ¡°Ah, fuck.¡±


    Before I could process this revelation, the laptop screen flickered back to life, unprompted. A new video began to play.


    Jacob appeared again, setting up the camera. He wore a bright yellow hood, and I could see the stars glimmering above. At first, the video seemed like just one of his ramblings. But then, when he took a slight step to the left, my blood ran cold.


    His body¡ªlifeless, nailed to the wall by its limbs¡ªhung behind him. The forensics team was taking samples from the crime scene, reporters were crowding around, trying to ask questions to the cops... I could even see myself, smoking on the corner. Jacob¡ªwas dead?


    And yet, there he was, alive, standing right in front of the camera as if nothing had happened.


    I froze, my mind struggling to process it. Either I was high, or I was trapped in a nightmare.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re watching this,¡± Jacob said calmly, his eyes piercing through the screen. ¡°Please¡­ leave me alone. If you don¡¯t hurt me, I won¡¯t hurt you. Okay? Please. Believe in second chances. Please. I¡¯m sorry for hurting you and your brother. But please, stop.¡±


    The video ended, leaving the three of us in stunned silence. The screen went black, our reflections staring back at us.


    ¡°Jacob¡¯s alive¡­ but dead?¡± James finally broke the silence, his voice cracking.


    Jane exhaled sharply. ¡°I think I need a drink.¡±


    ¡ª

 Chapter 10: Headache

    Dead men tell the best tales. I used to think it was just an old saying, something the barflies muttered between gulps of beer. But after years of living in this city, I understood the truth of it.


    They didn¡¯t speak in words, of course. Their tales were in the way their bodies fell, the blood pooling in patterns on cold stone, the torn seams of their pockets, and the treasures they clung to even in death. A corpse doesn¡¯t lie. It doesn¡¯t cover its tracks or twist the truth. All it does is wait, quietly, to tell its story to the right listener.


    But¡­ Jacob¡¯s situation was different. And we had to do something about it.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡±


    James stopped the car, and we all stepped out. Bonali Orphanage School stood on the outskirts of Kenli, a big, towering building surrounded by eerie stillness. Apparently, the victim¡ªor rather, the man we assumed was the victim, considering we¡¯d seen him alive in that baffling video¡ªhad worked here for some time. He¡¯d been fired, though we didn¡¯t know why. If we could uncover details about his time here, maybe, just maybe, we¡¯d stumble upon something that could help us solve this tangled mess of a case once and for all.


    ¡°Man, I¡¯ve got a headache,¡± James muttered, rubbing his temples. ¡°This is getting too much.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± Jane said, stepping out of the passenger seat. ¡°The dead coming back to life? Spilling stories? What even is this?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out soon enough,¡± I said, shutting the door behind me. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope we can dig up something useful about Jacob.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± James agreed, slamming his door. ¡°Let¡¯s get to it.¡±


    The school loomed before us, a four-story building surrounded by a meticulously maintained garden. Benches dotted the area, their shade provided by artificial trees¡ªcommonplace in West Antapolis. A zigzagging marble path stretched from the gates to the building''s double doors, lined on either side by vibrant flowers. The flowers, like the trees, were fake, but their fragrance was surprisingly pleasant.


    As we approached the gates, two cameras mounted on either side whirred to life, their bright green indicator lights flashing yellow as they swiveled toward us.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± an artificial voice emanated from one of the cameras.


    ¡°Police,¡± Jane said, holding up her badge. ¡°We need access to the premises.¡±


    The cameras went silent, their indicator lights blinking off. About twenty seconds later, the gates creaked open, and we stepped inside. Two security guards approached us. Unlike Robert, these men seemed competent, their implants gleaming and their weapons well-maintained. No hint of drunkenness here, either.


    ¡°May I see your badges as well?¡± one of them asked. ¡°We don¡¯t get visits from the police often, so we need to take precautions.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± James said, holding his badge out. ¡°We¡¯re here to ask a few questions about Jacob Dun¡ªthe man who worked here a few years ago.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re new,¡± one of the guards said. ¡°But the secretary¡¯s been here since the school was built. She might know more.¡±


    ¡°Could we speak with her?¡± Jane asked.


    ¡°Sure,¡± the guard replied. ¡°But I¡¯ll need to hold onto your weapons. Don¡¯t want to alarm anyone.¡±


    ¡°Also, is it okay if we pat you down?¡± the second guard asked, eyeing us cautiously.


    The three of us exchanged a glance before surrendering our firearms. One guard secured our weapons at his belt while the other began a methodical pat-down. He finished with Jane and James before moving to me. His brow furrowed when he pulled a small metal flask from my coat pocket.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± he asked.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°Whiskey,¡± I lied smoothly. ¡°I¡¯d prefer to keep it.¡±


    The guard frowned but handed it back. ¡°Fine, but don¡¯t let the students catch you drinking. You¡¯d set a bad example.¡±


    ¡°As if he isn¡¯t already,¡± Jane muttered under her breath, feigning a cough.


    ¡°Alright,¡± the man said with a shrug. ¡°That¡¯s it. Follow me.¡±


    We followed the guard to the entrance of the building, its large double doors standing ominously before us. Jane was the first to step inside, followed by James, then me. One of the guards stayed behind at the entrance while the other trailed us, his heavy boots echoing against the polished floor.


    Inside, to our right, a square desk sat in a corner, occupied by an elderly woman. She looked up from a pile of papers as we approached, adjusting her glasses and brushing her gray hair out of her eyes. Opposite the desk was an elevator that had clearly seen better days, and next to it, a pair of restrooms. The walls around us were lined with photographs of smiling children¡ªstudents, I assumed. The place was surprisingly well-maintained, given its location on the outskirts.


    As we approached the desk, the woman gave us a polite nod. The guard leaned down to whisper something to her, then stepped back to give us space.


    ¡°Police?¡± she said, her brows lifting. ¡°Well, I never thought I¡¯d see the day. How can I help you?¡±


    James stepped forward, his tone firm but courteous. ¡°We¡¯re here to ask about Jacob Dun.¡±


    The woman froze for a moment, her face falling as if the name carried a weight she wasn¡¯t ready to bear. ¡°Jacob Dun,¡± she repeated, removing her glasses and rubbing her eyes. ¡°The man who passed away?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Jane said, leaning an elbow on the desk. ¡°He used to work here, didn¡¯t he? You must remember him.¡±


    The woman sighed deeply, as though the memory of Jacob brought with it a tangle of emotions. ¡°He did. But I wasn¡¯t close to him¡ªjust colleagues, really.¡±


    ¡°And how was he with the other staff?¡± Jane asked, her voice softer now.


    The woman hesitated, staring at her hands as if searching for the right words. ¡°He kept to himself, mostly. Quiet, polite. Never caused trouble.¡±


    I crossed my arms, tilting my head. ¡°What about the students? How was he with them?¡±


    Her expression softened, a faint smile tugging at her lips. ¡°Oh, he adored them. Always brought little gifts, asked about their lives. The kids loved him for it.¡±


    ¡°Asked about their families?¡± Jane raised an eyebrow. ¡°But this is an orphanage, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s not just for orphans,¡± the woman explained. ¡°Some parents who can¡¯t care for their children send them here temporarily. Life in West Antapolis is... difficult, as you probably know.¡±


    James nodded grimly. ¡°We¡¯re well aware. Jacob mentioned something about atoning for his sins. Do you have any idea what he meant by that?¡±


    The woman¡¯s brow furrowed, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the desk. ¡°Sins?¡± she murmured. ¡°I... I¡¯m not sure.¡±


    ¡°Did he ever cause trouble while he was here?¡± I pressed, stepping closer. ¡°Do you know why he was fired?¡±


    She shook her head slowly, her voice low. ¡°The management couldn¡¯t afford to keep him¡ªor several others, for that matter. Budget cuts, I think. A lot of staff were let go. I don¡¯t know the real reason, of course.¡±


    I hummed in thought, glancing at the photos on the wall. ¡°Did anything strange happen before he was fired?¡±


    The woman¡¯s eyes darted away, and her voice grew quieter. ¡°There was one thing... I saw him outside the gates one day, talking with a police officer. He handed the officer a backpack, and the next day, he was gone. Fired with others.¡±


    Jane straightened. ¡°A backpack? Do you know what was in it?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± James clapped his hands together lightly. ¡°Thanks for your time. That¡¯s helpful.¡±


    Jane wasn¡¯t done yet. ¡°One more thing. Are there any students who were here when Jacob worked? If so, could we contact them for information?¡±


    Before the woman could respond, the security behind her stepped forward, his tone firm. ¡°Sorry, but that¡¯s confidential. Unless you have a warrant or the proper documentation, we can¡¯t release any information about our students.¡±


    James nodded, raising his hands in mock surrender. ¡°Fair enough. We¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±


    Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I stepped away from the group, pulling it out to answer. ¡°Leo?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, hey, C,¡± his voice came through, urgent but steady. ¡°The real Mire just walked into the station. She¡¯s waiting for you three.¡±


    I glanced at Jane and James, who were wrapping up the conversation with the secretary. ¡°Got it,¡± I replied. ¡°We¡¯ll head back now. Let¡¯s see what she has to say.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting. Don¡¯t be late.¡±

 Chapter 11: Wake up

    I stepped inside the interrogation room, placing a glass of water in front of the real Mire¡ªa blonde woman in her twenties. She was medium height, with two small moles near her lips. Her makeup streaked down her face, mingling with tears and dirt, giving her a ghostly appearance. Her frame was frail, her movements sluggish¡ªsigns of malnourishment. Whoever had kidnapped her clearly hadn¡¯t bothered to keep her well.


    The room felt stifling, the weight of the case pressing down on us. Dead men rising and telling tales, doppelg?ngers appearing¡ªit was chaos. And it was getting worse by the minute.


    ¡°Mire Opra,¡± Jane said gently, her voice calm but firm. ¡°Are you absolutely sure you don¡¯t want a lawyer present?¡±


    She had scratches on her neck, likely inflicted during torture by the fake Mire. The poor woman must have endured unimaginable suffering.


    ¡°N-no.¡± Mire¡¯s voice cracked. She gripped the glass tightly, her hands trembling as she took a long sip. ¡°Please¡­ just catch the one who did this to me!¡±


    ¡°We will,¡± Jane assured her, leaning forward with a kind but determined expression. ¡°But for us to do that, you need to help us. Can you do that?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes¡­ anything¡­¡± she said, setting the empty glass down with shaky hands. ¡°Thank you¡­ thank you so much.¡±


    I crossed my arms, studying her closely. ¡°When were you kidnapped?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. Days, maybe? I¡¯ve lost all sense of time.¡± She buried her face in her hands for a moment before looking back up.


    ¡°The woman who kidnapped you,¡± I pressed. ¡°Do you know her?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Mire yelled, her voice breaking. ¡°She¡¯s insane! Must¡¯ve thought I was rich or something! I was with Jacob, at my house. The doorbell rang, and I opened it, and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Take a deep breath,¡± Jane said, her tone soothing. ¡°You¡¯re safe now. Take your time.¡±


    Mire nodded, inhaling shakily. ¡°It was just a day or two before¡­ is it true? Is Jacob¡­ is he really gone? Hanged like that?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied, my voice softer now. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for your loss.¡±


    ¡°She did it,¡± Mire said, her voice trembling with anger. ¡°She killed him. I know it!¡±


    A knock on the door interrupted us. I got up, opened it, and there stood Leo, escorting the supposed Mire¡ªhandcuffed and visibly seething.


    Normally, keeping two suspects in the same room was a hard no. But this case wasn¡¯t normal, and I was desperate for answers. Without a word, I grabbed the doppelg?nger by the arm and ushered her into the room.


    The real Mire recoiled, her chair screeching against the floor as she pushed herself back. Jane¡¯s eyebrow shot up, her expression a mix of confusion and anger. She didn¡¯t have to say it¡ªI knew this was breaking protocol. But I was out of patience.


    ¡°This the woman who kidnapped you?¡± I asked, my voice sharp.


    ¡°Yes!¡± Mire pointed, her finger trembling. ¡°That¡¯s her! That¡¯s her!¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± the supposed Mire shouted, her voice filled with rage. ¡°I don¡¯t even know you, you psycho! Who the hell are you, and what were you doing in my mother¡¯s house?¡±


    ¡°You¡­ you monster!¡± Mire sneered, her eyes brimming with tears. ¡°I hope you rot in prison!¡±


    The doppelg?nger glared at her, her voice rising in desperation. ¡°She¡¯s lying! She¡¯s framing me! Check my ID¡ªI am Mire Opra! I swear to God!¡±


    ¡°You wanted Jacob all to yourself, didn¡¯t you?¡± Mire spat, her voice thick with venom. ¡°Why? Why him, of all people? He had cancer, for God¡¯s sake! He was dying already, peacefully! Not with his head and heart split open!¡±


    Leo leaned in close, whispering into my ear. ¡°We checked their IDs. Both of them are Mire Opra.¡±


    I stiffened. ¡°What?¡± I whispered back. ¡°How is that possible?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me.¡± Leo shrugged helplessly. ¡°Maybe someone hacked the system? I¡¯m no tech guy.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± I mumbled. ¡°Hey, did you find any of that miri plant in her house, the red-leafed one? There was a sample of it on the key, right?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Leo whispered. ¡°She must¡¯ve thrown it away.¡±


    Jane¡¯s voice cut through in a sharp whisper, her anger barely contained. ¡°What the hell are you doing, C? You don¡¯t just throw suspects together like this!¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I muttered, nodding at Leo to take the doppelg?nger out. ¡°Thought I¡¯d speed things up.¡±


    ¡°If she sues,¡± Jane snapped, her voice low but deadly, ¡°you¡¯re done.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s not give her that idea,¡± I replied under my breath, watching as Leo led the doppelg?nger out of the room.


    I shut the door behind them, the sound echoing through the tense silence. Jane shot me a glare, her lips pressed into a tight line. I sighed, rubbing my temples. This case was spiraling out of control, and I had no idea how to stop it.


    ¡°I can handle her.¡± Jane said. ¡°But I don¡¯t trust Leo with the suspect. He is¡­ well, dumb. Can you help him?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right¡­¡± I said opening the door again.


    I shut the door behind me, my boots echoing softly against the tiled floor as I walked down the corridor. Leo and the supposed ¡°Mire¡± were already in the second interrogation room. Normally, I wasn¡¯t one to toss the rulebook out the window, but something about this case had me unraveling. A dead man walking, a doppelg?nger, and more lies than I could untangle¡ªit was all getting to me.


    I opened the door and stepped inside. Leo had just finished unlocking the cuffs on ¡°Mire¡± and was now leaning back in his chair, studying her intently. She sat rigidly, her arms crossed, shooting wary glances between us. I positioned myself near the door, arms folded, watching and waiting as Leo began.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± he asked, his tone steady.


    ¡°Mire. Mire Opra!¡± she shot back, her voice laced with desperation.


    ¡°Your real name,¡± Leo pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly.


    ¡°I swear it¡¯s Mire!¡±


    ¡°Your neighbors don¡¯t know you,¡± I interjected, stepping closer. ¡°And I checked Jacob¡¯s old RV. Guess what? He had a photo of the real blonde Mire.¡±


    Her face twisted in frustration. ¡°The RV!¡± she exclaimed, her voice rising. ¡°Yes, yes, the RV! It only opens in a specific way. You have to hold the door up while unlocking it. I know this because I¡¯ve been there! I was Jacob¡¯s girlfriend, for fuck¡¯s sake! Why won¡¯t you believe me?¡±


    Leo tilted his head slightly, considering her. ¡°The other Mire know about that?¡±


    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll find out,¡± I muttered, turning on my heel and leaving the room.


    I made my way to the other interrogation room, the weight of the case pressing harder with every step. Opening the door, I found Jane seated at the table, while the blonde Mire sat across from her, her face buried in her hands, tears streaking her cheeks.


    Jane glanced up at me, but I didn¡¯t say a word. Instead, I walked to the chair, gripping its back with both hands, leaning into it as I studied Mire.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been in Jacob¡¯s RV, right?¡± I asked, my tone sharp but steady. ¡°He was your boyfriend, after all.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± she replied, her voice shaky. ¡°In Tidbit. Why?¡±


    ¡°We couldn¡¯t get the door to open,¡± I lied. ¡°You know how to get inside?¡±


    ¡°The key didn¡¯t work?¡± she asked, confused.


    ¡°It fit, but the door wouldn¡¯t budge.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± she muttered, trailing off. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe¡­ try the windows?¡±


    My eyes narrowed slightly as I straightened. She didn¡¯t know how the door opened? That RV had her picture and personal items inside, yet she couldn¡¯t explain something as basic as getting in. My gaze dropped to the floor, my mind spinning..


    ¡°Got it,¡± I said finally, breaking the silence. ¡°Where do you live, by the way?¡±


    ¡°Here, in Kiruha,¡± she said. ¡°Kenli.¡±


    ¡°Exact address?¡± I pressed. ¡°We need to figure out how that woman got to you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s close to Golden Cats. Keep the sign on your left and walk straight ahead. The third ship is mine.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said with a nod. ¡°Thanks¡­ Jane, can we talk?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± she said, pushing her chair back and standing.


    We stepped outside and moved far enough down the corridor that Mire wouldn¡¯t hear us. I leaned against the wall and explained how she couldn¡¯t tell me how the RV door worked.


    ¡°So?¡± Jane said, her brows knitting together. ¡°Maybe the fake Mire broke the door intentionally, so the real one wouldn¡¯t know how it opened?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I admitted. ¡°Real one? Who¡¯s the real one?¡±


    Jane huffed, crossing her arms. ¡°The one in the picture, dumbass. And the videos.¡±


    I sighed, running a hand down my face. ¡°The bigger problem is Jacob. Where the hell is he? How¡¯d he fake his death? And why?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±


    "FaceUp 2.0?" I said. "There is only one FaceUp 2.0 device in West Antapolis. He might have used it on someone else... and got them killed?"


    "FaceUp 2.0 works only on those who are related by blood," Jane said, shaking her head. "Jacob only has his brother, Robert. And last time we checked, Robert was still alive."


    "I don''t know," I said, sighing. "This is all so complicated."


    FaceUp 2.0, the newly developed technology, allowed individuals bound by blood to swap faces. Still in its infancy, the machine required identical DNA matches to function. Its limitations were strict¡ªsiblings, twins, and parent-child pairs could use it, but in some rare cases, more distant relatives, like cousins or nephews, might also be able to make it work.


    Jane was right, though. Jacob only had his brother. No other siblings, no children, no surviving parents. So, how could this work? How could someone else have his face?


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Jane muttered. She hesitated, then added, ¡°You heading to Mire¡¯s place?¡±


    ¡°Yep. Gonna see if there¡¯s anything useful there.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said, her tone softening slightly. ¡°Be careful.¡±


    I nodded once, not trusting myself to say more, and started down the hall.


    ¡ª


    This city was a monster. Those guys I met in Tidbit were right. It was a loop. We could take down every criminal lurking in its shadows, but new ones would always emerge, more vicious and desperate than the last. The cycle never ended¡ªinnocents killed, power abused, justice twisted. Someone above us pulled the strings, and it wasn¡¯t God. No, it was something worse.


    It was the city itself. West Antapolis. A labyrinth of decay and despair. The city of lost souls and losers.


    I pulled up in front of the ship and parked. The house was in decent shape for this part of town. The deck was converted into a modest garden, though the wood was rotting in places, and the door didn¡¯t look sturdy enough to withstand even a weak shove. A perfect place for someone trying to disappear.


    The vibration of my phone interrupted my thoughts. I pulled it out and answered.


    ¡°Jane?¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ve locked up the fake Mire. The real one¡¯s staying with a friend for now, under guard. Just in case.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± I muttered, checking the door. Locked, of course. ¡°How was she?¡±


    ¡°Shaken but holding up,¡± Jane said. ¡°I also asked her about the RV door. She said it wasn¡¯t broken.¡±


    ¡°Figures.¡±


    ¡°By the way,¡± she continued, ¡°we¡¯ve connected Jacob Dun to the other victims. The last two worked at the same school. Teachers. Jacob was the security guard, as we already know.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said. ¡°He was a¡ª¡±


    A cold barrel pressed against the back of my head. My breath caught, and I froze.


    ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± a low voice ordered.


    The gun nudged me forward, my forehead brushing against the wooden door. I felt a tap on the back of my phone, a clear warning not to tip Jane off.


    ¡°I gotta go,¡± I said into the phone, keeping my voice steady.


    ¡°Why?¡± Jane asked.


    ¡°Toilet break. Call you later.¡±


    ¡°Wai¡ª¡±


    I ended the call before she could finish, and the stranger snatched my phone. I heard the scrape of a key sliding into the lock. The door creaked open, and I was shoved inside. My hands stayed at my sides, my body tense.


    ¡°Where is she?¡± the voice demanded. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Preternatural Affairs,¡± I replied. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Preternatural Affairs,¡± he sneered. ¡°Shit.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re Jacob Dun,¡± I said, keeping my back to him. ¡°How are you still alive?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m dead,¡± he replied coolly. ¡°But the dead have the best stories. Want to hear one, cop?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m all ears.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯ll have to shoot you afterward,¡± he said, the barrel pressing harder. ¡°Fair deal?¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? I sense no fear in your voice, cop.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. You were a security guard in that orphanage, right?¡±


    ¡°Okay¡ªokay.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Yeah. I was a security guard,¡± he began, his tone detached. ¡°At a school. It was quiet, peaceful. I liked it. Then my brother¡¯s kid got sick. Needed a heart. A child¡¯s heart.¡±


    I didn¡¯t say a word, letting him continue.


    ¡°I found one,¡± he said flatly. ¡°Got it for him. Then I realized there was money in it.¡±


    ¡°You stole organs?¡± I asked.


    ¡°All from orphans,¡± he said without hesitation. ¡°No one missed them. No one.¡±


    My stomach churned, but I kept my face neutral. He was telling the story as if it meant nothing to him.


    ¡°Then I went too far,¡± he admitted. ¡°Way, way too far.¡±


    ¡°What did you do?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t tell¡­ I can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± I nodded. ¡°Then what happened?¡±


    ¡°Then we got caught. But we paid off the cops. Authorities. No headlines, no investigations. Clean slate.¡±


    He paused, exhaling sharply.


    ¡°And then I met Mire,¡± he said, his voice softening. ¡°A nun. She¡­ she saved me. Made me believe I could change.¡±


    "Why were those two killed?" I asked. "They were involved, too. Right?"


    "Yes," he said. "This was a whole operation. Everyone from the school was involved. We even killed a kid''s father so that when the kid went missing, he wouldn''t alert the cops. We were thorough. We were smart. We were rich."


    "Smart, huh?"


    "You think I''m not?" he countered. "You''re at the end of my barrel. Choose your words carefully."


    ¡°How did you fake your death?¡±


    ¡°FaceUp,¡± he said simply.


    ¡°Your brother is alive,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡±


    ¡°He is,¡± Jacob said, ¡°but his son? Tell me about him.¡±


    Slowly, I turned to face him. There he stood¡ªJacob Dun. Alive. Flesh and blood. The gun in his hand glinted under the weak light, the barrel cold against my forehead.


    ¡°You¡­¡±


    "I told him I''d give him a lot of money if he pretended to be me for a week," he said. "And he agreed."


    "You suspect someone was out to get you?"


    "Those two idiots I worked with died," he said. "I knew it was my turn. So I hid. And¡ªlet Jamey die."


    ¡°You¡¯re sick.¡±


    ¡°I am. Maybe I¡¯m not. Either way, that¡¯s it for the story,¡± he said, his finger tightening on the trigger. ¡°Goodnight, cop.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t get awa¡ª¡±


    ¡°Nah. I think I will.¡±


    The shot rang out.


    I dropped, lifeless, to the floor. Blood and brain matter painted the dull walls, my thoughts dissolving into the void. West Antapolis faded to black.


    ¡°Conticent,¡± a voice echoed in the distance. Faint. Familiar.


    ¡°Melissa?¡±


    ¡°C,¡± she whispered, her tone mournful. ¡°I miss you.¡±


    ¡°C,¡± another voice echoed, this one cold and harsh. ¡°It is successful. We did it.¡±


    ¡°C.¡±


    ¡°C.¡±


    ¡°C!¡±


    ¡°Wake up.¡±

 Chapter 12: END

    I opened my eyes, groaning like the undead as I struggled to rise. Halfway up, I caught sight of my reflection in a cracked mirror. The bullet wound¡ªa clean entry and exit at the front of my head¡ªstared back at me. Blood dripped from my mouth, pooling below. Using a nearby chair for support, I tried to stand, only to slip and crash back to the ground.


    Then, a strange scent hit me¡ªfaint, but unmistakable. Miri plant.


    The same scent I had detected on Jacob¡¯s hand¡ªor rather, Jamey¡¯s hand. It was also on the key we found at Mire¡¯s apartment. According to Leo, the fake Mire didn¡¯t have any Miri plant. But this one did.


    "Ugh¡­" A sticky note was stuck to the mirror. It read, I''ll end where everything ended.


    We¡¯d been wrong.


    The woman we believed was fake Mire¡­ she was the real one. The blonde was the imposter. The RV picture had always seemed a little off¡ªnow I knew why. It was photoshopped. And the video on the laptop? I¡¯d noticed a glitch just before Jacob showed the photo. That video wasn¡¯t original; it had been edited and replayed. She also had scratch marks on her neck, which we initially mistook for signs of torture. But they weren¡¯t. The attacker had deliberately ripped off the victim¡¯s nails to erase any traces of DNA¡ªher DNA.


    I reached into my coat pocket and retrieved a small metallic flask. Popping the cork, I gulped its contents¡ªblood. The surge of vitality hit instantly, my strength returning and my mind sharpening with a clarity I hadn¡¯t felt in days.


    ¡°Agh¡­¡±


    I finally stood, shaking off the haze, and rushed outside.


    There he was. Jacob. He was trying to open the door of my car, but he needed my fingerprint. His eyes widened as he saw me. Panicking, he attempted to open the door one more time, only to fail again. Then, he grabbed his pistol from his side.


    But I was faster.


    In a blur of motion, I was there, gripping his throat before he could react. I tried to calm down¡ªbut it was too late. I had tasted the blood, and control was slipping away, as it often did for a royal vampire.


    ¡°You¡­¡± he gasped, his voice choked. ¡°How¡ª¡±


    ¡°Have¡­¡± I snarled, my voice strained as I fought to calm myself. ¡°Have a drink, Melissa.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck are you saying!¡±


    ¡°I always¡­ liked. You.¡± I muttered. ¡°I wish it was me¡­ they branded.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you and fuck Meliss¡ª¡±


    I squeezed harder, and his throat collapsed with a sickening crunch. His lifeless body slumped against the car before hitting the ground.


    The red in my eyes began to fade as I stood over him, breathing heavily. There would be no tears for him. Not now. Not ever. Bastard deserved everything coming to him. He was going to get shanked in the prison, either way. I¡¯d just cut the middle-man.


    I crouched, retrieved my phone from his pocket, and got into the car. As I started the engine, I called Jane, putting the phone on speaker.


    ¡°C¡ª¡±


    ¡°Jane!¡± I shouted, slamming the gas. ¡°The blonde one is fake! The real Mire was the one we thought was fake. Don¡¯t let the blonde escape!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I talked to Jacob,¡± I said, my voice frantic. ¡°I¡­ I killed him. He had me at gunpoint, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°What? How?¡± Jane asked, her voice sharp.


    ¡°I¡¯ll explain later,¡± I snapped. ¡°Call the station. Tell them the blonde is the real murderer!¡±


    ¡°O-okay,¡± she said quickly. ¡°I¡¯ll let Helion know.¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll search the city for her. You and the others do the same.¡±


    ¡°Got it. Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± I said. ¡°See you.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes as I wiped the blood from my face. Where could she have gone? The gears in my brain weren¡¯t exactly working right¡ªI''d just been shot, after all. But as the cold air from the open windows hit me, I slammed on the brakes and came to a screeching halt. The motorcycle behind me shot me the finger as it roared past.


    I remembered the sticky note I¡¯d seen on the mirror: I¡¯ll end where everything ended. I knew where her next move was... I knew exactly where she was headed.


    ¡ª


    Just as I thought, I found her. It was the only place she could be.


    The rain drizzled steadily as I parked and stepped out. West Antapolis was a neon blur of chaos and decay. The city mocked us with its twisted rules and endless cruelty. We were all playing a rigged game, and the house always won.


    She stood at the edge of a dark alley, staring at the spot where Jacob¡ªor Robert¡¯s son¡ªhad hung. Her blonde hair clung to her tear-streaked face, glistening in the rain. For a moment, she looked human. Broken.


    ¡°You¡¯re under arrest,¡± I said, walking toward her with my gun in hand. ¡°Turn around. Hands up.¡±


    ¡°I saw you kill him,¡± she said, her back still turned. ¡°On the cameras.¡±


    ¡°You should be happy,¡± I replied, my voice steady.


    ¡°I am,¡± she said. ¡°Content... alive.¡±


    "Were you the one who attacked us?" I said. "Near that roundabout?"


    "No," she replied. "He was a wraith, drawn by the scent of blood. He wasn¡¯t part of my plan."


    ¡°Okay¡­ so, why did you kill Jacob?¡± I asked. ¡°They were stealing organs from kids. Were you one of them?¡±


    She tilted her head upward, letting the rain run down her face. ¡°No. But my brother was.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sorry for your loss.¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t take his organs,¡± she said. ¡°But he was still a victim. My brother had heart issues.¡±


    ¡°Then... what happened?¡±


    She finally turned to face me. Her eyes were red, her lips trembling. ¡°They did far worse than stealing his organs.¡±


    ¡°You can tell me,¡± I said softly, lowering my gun.


    ¡°They...¡± she began, biting her lip to hold back tears. ¡°They were going to operate on my brother. But the tests showed he wasn¡¯t good for the table. That didn¡¯t stop them. They had to take something from him. They were monsters.¡±


    ¡°What did they take?¡±


    She took a step closer, her voice cracking. ¡°One day, those three barged into our room.¡± Her voice wavered, her tears mixing with the rain. ¡°One of them pinned me down while the others beat him. I told them he was weak, that he was sick, but they didn¡¯t listen.¡±


    Her pain felt familiar. Too familiar. She had been forced to watch the only good person in her life get torn away.


    ¡°They went further. They cut him up for¡­ fun.¡± she said, trembling. Her hands gripped my shoulders as she demonstrated, pulling me back and forth continuously. ¡°The blade went back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth,¡± She gripped my shoulders harder as she pushed me back and forth. ¡°Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth back forth, back forth¡­ until he died. Looking into my eyes. I swear... I saw the light in his eyes go out.¡±


    She stepped back, walking toward the dark alley where her victim had hung. Her blonde hair, soaked and wild, obscured her face. Her voice cracked as she spoke.


    ¡°West Antapolis,¡± she said with a bitter smile, her eyes meeting mine. ¡°The city of lost souls and losers... and I think I fit the description, don¡¯t I?¡±


    Before I could respond, she drew a gun from her side and pressed it against her temple. It had a silver bullet in it. I could smell it.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this,¡± I said, stepping forward cautiously.


    ¡°This city is a nightmare,¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain. ¡°I just want to wake up. I just want to see my brother again.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    The gunshot echoed through the alley.


    Her body collapsed to the pavement, blood pooling and mixing with the rain. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the ground. I sat there, staring at the lifeless body of a woman whose real name I would never know. Despite everything, I understood her. I understood her pain.


    For two long minutes, I stood frozen, the rain pouring down relentlessly. She was already dead before she ever pulled the trigger, her tale sealed in silence. There was no more hiding, no more pretending. She had no masks to wear, no lies to tell. All that was left was the raw, unfiltered truth, and it spoke louder than anything the living could ever say. It wasn¡¯t the best tale, but it was the most honest. The kind of tale that was easy to understand because it came without the clutter of deceit or illusions.


    This city¡¯s evil would never end. West Antapolis wasn¡¯t just a nightmare. It was far worse. It was reality.


    Nothing was going forward. Loop. The city was looping. And so was I.


    With a sigh, I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and placed it between my lips.


    Then,


    I lit my cigarette. Again, another victim. Another lost soul.