《Ashes of Cold Ember》 Chapter 01 I¡¯d love to tell you death is peaceful. That it¡¯s warm, soft¡ªas if some divine hand gently scoops you up, singing a lullaby and carries you off to whatever¡¯s next. You might wonder if there is actually anything beyond death. Well, believe it or not, there is. The pearly gates, the fiery pits¡ªall those things you laugh off as some cultist exaggeration? They¡¯re real. But to reach them, there¡¯s this void. An eternal, pitless void. Maybe it¡¯s all part of some greater scheme, one far beyond mortal whims. Nothing here is ever under mortal control, actually. Not that I¡¯d know much about it. But one thing I can tell you for sure: Death is a liar. And a jerk. Worse than you can imagine. It¡¯s not warm, nor is it cold. It¡¯s something worse. Far worse. Like your skin being stripped off while you¡¯re still alive and salt and pepper rubbed into the naked, raw flesh. No¡­ even that doesn¡¯t quite compare. Death is poetic, they say. Death is kind. Maybe we¡¯re too insignificant to understand it. But what I do know is this: Death comes for you when it¡¯s time. It doesn¡¯t care about your preparations, your pleas, or your bargains. And it¡¯s damn good at its game. The worst part? The ending. You don¡¯t get to choose it. It chooses you. --- A consciousness drifted in. Is this it? I thought it would feel... different. More... permanent. No heartbeat. No breathing. No feeling. Nothing but awareness. Aware of a weight that couldn¡¯t be named, pressing down on his very existence. Maybe it was the weight of existence itself. Dark. Damp. Cold. Black. Not the biting chill of winter but the damp, suffocating cold of something vast and unfeeling. It wasn¡¯t peaceful, nor was it still. The darkness wrapped around him, stretching endlessly, pulling, consuming. Or... was it still trying? He couldn¡¯t tell. It was heavy and suffocating, like being buried alive without even the courtesy of a coffin. The cold seeped into him, coiling tighter and tighter as if it wanted to squeeze the very concept of ¡®him¡¯ into nothing. And then¡ª He felt it¡ª them. Gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. Something primal. Emotions. Sharp and jagged, tearing into him like knives. Anger surged first, bitter and burning, searing through the void with the force of a tidal wave. Not a vague anger, but something personal, intimate, like an old, festering wound. Who did this to me? Hatred followed, or was it hatred all along? Thick and venomous, wrapping around him like a second skin. It wasn¡¯t directed at anyone¡ªyet. It was raw, directionless, consuming. And then came regret. Yes, regret. Worst of them. It was an ache. A hollow, gnawing ache, relentless and unyielding. It settled deep, burrowing into his very core, pulling him further into the abyss. It was a thousand whispers that wouldn¡¯t quiet, a thousand weights he couldn¡¯t throw off.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. It whispered lies¡ªor were they truths?¡ªabout what he¡¯d done, what he hadn¡¯t done, and all the things he¡¯d never get to do. It wasn¡¯t just sorrow for lost moments; it was bitter, unshakable guilt. Why didn¡¯t I stop it? Why did I fight? Why didn¡¯t I¡ª The questions buzzed like flies around a rotting corpse, but the answers... they dangled out of reach, proving ever elusive. And yet, he reached for them anyway, again and again. It was an instinct, a need to grasp at the fragments. To fix something. But every time he thought he was close, the answers slipped away, leaving only the bitterness of knowing he¡¯d FAILED! Failed at what? Then silence. Then they came again: anger, hatred, and regret. It coiled tightly around him like a noose. It burned, simmering beneath the icy void. But regret for what? Because I was killed? ¡ª what? I was¡­ KILLED? His awareness trembled; I was killed! The realization hit him like a dam. Why? Who? How? Questions probed at his consciousness, but he couldn''t remember. For a fleeting moment, he thought maybe it was mercy¡ªnot remembering. Until the cracks appeared. They widened and spread like spiderwebs, delicate fractures splitting the darkness. They spread through him like veins of lightning, carrying a shock of pain¡ªnot physical, but deeper, sharper. It tore at him, unraveling him piece by piece until his consciousness felt unwoven. He wanted to scream. To claw at the void, to resist the judgment pressing down on him. But there was no body, no voice, no limbs. Just his raw and exposed awareness, forced to endure. The cracks hastened. Memories¡ªor what he thought were memories¡ªflashed across the fractures. Brief and fleeting. A face. A laugh. A voice. The sound of rain hitting the pavement. The bombardment of screams and shouts. The faint taste of lemon tea. A child. A thousand more appeared, but this time dead. The haunting whispers of someone. The searing pain on his back. And the lingering fondness of a kiss still wet on his lips. Each burned as they passed, searing his existence and leaving him emptier than before. But regret lingered, twisting the knife even deeper. It wasn¡¯t just the pain of the memories¡ªit was the weight of knowing. The weight of understanding he couldn¡¯t change them. The weight of realizing he didn¡¯t deserve to. And then something new happened. Something louder than the cracks, the burning memories, the emotions. A voice. It came again, faint at first, barely more than a whisper. Call? Someone is calling? ¡ª But who? The more he strained to listen, the clearer it got¡ªuntil... ¡°Wilhelm.¡± It cut through the void like a knife. Sharp and deliberate. Something inside him recoiled. The name... He hated it, loathed the way it curled through the void and pulled at him. It felt bitter. ¡°Wilhelm.¡± The voice came again, louder this time, more desperate. And with it came a pull, like an invisible thread wrapping around him, dragging him toward something he couldn¡¯t see. The cracks spread faster now, each one splitting him open, tearing through the void with reckless abandon. Each new fracture brought flashes¡ªfaces, emotions, places¡ªbut none of it stayed long enough to make sense. He was unraveling, breaking apart. His consciousness drifted, waiting. Waiting for that call. And he heard it again. ¡°WILHELM!¡± He remembered now. It was his name. He was being called upon. Light flooded in, searing and blinding, engulfing all the fragments along with the void. And for the first time, Wilhelm remembered what it was like to see. He wasn¡¯t alone anymore. And somehow, he knew¡ªhe just knew¡ªhe could open his eyes again. So he did. Chapter -02 Smoke curled in thick, acrid waves, biting at the air as it poured around Wilhelm. The bitter tang of it clung to everything, smothering all but the flicker of flames that danced chaotically, consuming the remains of the small caf¨¦. Wait! Wilhem could see the inferno, but the smoke didn¡¯t sting his eyes. It should have blinded him, but it didn¡¯t. The heat should have scalded his skin, yet he felt nothing. The flames crackled, licking greedily at the edges of tables and climbing the cracked wooden beams. Sparks sprayed as a beam sagged overhead, groaning under the weight of the fire. A caf¨¦... why did that seem familiar? Wilhelm stood amidst the chaos, unmoving, watching. The fire consumed everything it touched, but it felt distant, as though he wasn¡¯t really there. And then, through the suffocating roar of the blaze, he heard it again¡ªthe voice. The very one that had dragged him out of oblivion, rougher now, choked by smoke. ¡°Wilhelm...¡± His gaze snapped to the source. Through the haze, he saw a figure sprawled on the floor, coughing and choking as the thick smoke enveloped him. Thomas. The name hit Wilhelm like a hammer. A wave of something heavy and bitter twisted inside him¡ªregret. It poked at the edges of his mind, insistent and cruel. He couldn¡¯t grasp the reason why, but the feeling was undeniable, gnawing at him with every passing second. Thomas clawed forward, his trench coat singed at the edges, offering little protection against the heat. The flames cast shadows across his face, twisted with desperation as he dragged himself toward the lifeless body slumped just a few feet away. Wilhelm didn¡¯t need to look closely. He knew whose body it was. His. Thomas heaved, pulling himself closer, the effort visible in every trembling muscle. His hands reached out, shaking as he pressed against Wilhelm¡¯s chest. His breaths were short and shallow, each one a struggle against the smoke that filled his lungs. ¡°Come on,¡± Thomas rasped, his voice raw. ¡°Come back...¡± He pressed harder, his fingers trembling as he tried again. One thrust, two, three¡ªeach attempt more frantic than the last. His breath came fast and shallow, pupils blown wide from the smoke. But Wilhelm could tell- he wasn¡¯t choking on the smoke. Wilhelm watched, frozen, as Thomas¡¯s composure began to crack. Tears streaked down his soot-smudged face, glinting in the firelight. His shoulders sagged under the crushing weight of emotions that Wilhelm couldn¡¯t quite name. The caf¨¦ groaned again, and the wooden beams above crackled ominously as the fire ate away at their supports. Embers fell like burning snow, some scorching the floor around Thomas and some landing on his coat, leaving smoldering marks. His hair singed at the edges, and a red welt began to form on the side of his neck where the heat kissed his skin. Thomas coughed violently, his body shaking, but his grip on Wilhelm¡¯s lifeless form tightened. He pressed his ear to Wilhelm¡¯s chest, searching desperately for any sign of life, his trembling hands pressing harder, almost willing a heartbeat into existence. ¡°Wilhelm!¡± Thomas¡¯s voice cracked, barely more than a rasp. ¡°No... no, no, no.¡± The scream wasn¡¯t loud; it couldn¡¯t be. The smoke had stolen his voice, and what little sound he managed to make was swallowed by the fire¡¯s greedy roar. But the anguish behind it was deafening. Thomas''s shoulder sagged, inch by Inch. He slumped against Wilhelm, head bowed, shoulders trembling as the weight of emotions he could barely name threatened to crush him. Tears left dried smudge on the soot on his face as he let out a hoarse, strangled cry. And still, he clung to consciousness, driven by some unrelenting force within him. Though Thomas couldn''t see, Wilhelm was there... right before him. He stood there, frozen, staring at Thomas as something sharp and unbearable wrenched his heart.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Why does seeing you like this feel like I¡¯ve made a mistake I can¡¯t undo? The thought burned hotter than the fire surrounding them. Wilhelm stared at Thomas, whose head still rested on his corpse. His jaw clenched. Leave him. Thomas wasn¡¯t moving. Wilhelm¡¯s hands clenched into fists. ¡°Get up.¡± The words smoldered in his throat. ¡°Get up, damn it!¡± But Thomas stayed still, chest heaving as shallow breaths escaped him between ragged coughs. Wilhelm¡¯s gaze flickered to the flames, inching toward him like ravenous beasts. I should leave him. The dead have no place among the living. But his shoulders trembled under the weight of something he couldn¡¯t shake. It wasn¡¯t the burned beam wedged through him nor the heat of the scalding flame. It was heavier, suffocating. Regret. Why? The emotion twisted through him, clawing and scorching, until it settled like a pit of molten steel in his core. Why do I feel like I¡¯ve done this to you? The thought struck like ice water. His entire body tensed, the fleeting memory just out of reach, taunting him. Forget it. It doesn¡¯t matter now. But it didn¡¯t leave him. The regret only dug deeper, searing through his ethereal form. Thomas¡¯s hand fell limp, fingers curling into fists. His head tilted upward, and for the first time, their eyes met. Wilhelm froze. His breath caught in his throat. Thomas¡¯s unfocused eyes bore through him, and Wilhelm¡¯s stomach dropped. He realized Thomas wasn¡¯t looking at him¡ª He can¡¯t possibly see me! Thomas¡¯s gaze drifted to the lifeless body. With trembling hands, he reached forward and gently closed Wilhelm¡¯s glassy, unseeing eyes, still open in death. Wilhelm felt a pang in his chest, sharper than any fire. Why can¡¯t I remember? Thomas slumped down, his body collapsing beside Wilhelm¡¯s corpse. His breaths came in short, shallow bursts, flaring into violent coughs. His face was pale, streaked with soot, skin blistered where flames had licked too close. Wilhelm watched as Thomas¡¯s eyes grew hazy. And then, in a moment so brief it felt impossible, Thomas¡¯s eyes widened, his pupils blown with shock and horror. His lips trembled, and he froze, staring straight at Wilhelm. Looks like he saw a ghost or something. Wilhem chuckled at this thought. But Thomas¡¯s wild expression, the sheer terror in his gaze, made him unsettled. "Wil..." Thomas rasped, barely forming the name. Wilhelm¡¯s breath hitched, eyes widened. He sees me? Thomas¡¯s body wavered, lips parting in a faint attempt to speak again. But his strength failed him. With one last tremble, his head drooped backward, and he fell unconscious. He was still alive, but only just. The flames crackled louder now, emboldened by Thomas¡¯s vulnerability. Leave him. The thought came cold and swift, devoid of emotion. Let him die here. Wilhelm turned his back, willing himself to fade into the ethereal realm. The edges of his form shimmered, unraveling like smoke in the wind. The fiery heat no longer touched him, not that it touched, to begin with. The mortal world began to dissolve. I''m a ghost. Wilhelm¡¯s body wavered, dissolving into faint embers that drifted upward, swallowed by the smoke. The flames gnawed at the walls, relentless and wild¡ªbut as his form unraveled, the inferno hesitated as if uncertain whether to claim him. Is this what I¡¯ve become? The thought barely lingered before his gaze drifted back to Thomas¡ªunconscious, vulnerable, dying. Damn it. Regret struck hard, coiling like molten iron around his chest. The flames surged forward, eager to consume¡ªbut Wilhelm broke through the veil of fire with a single step. It parted around him like silk, scattering into glowing threads that spiraled through the air in delicate embers. His outline flickered, half-formed, yet solid enough to cast a faint shadow over Thomas¡¯s prone body. In that instant, the line between the living and the dead blurred. Shadows stretched beneath Wilhelm¡¯s feet, curling like serpents as he knelt beside Thomas. The flames twisted unnaturally, bending away from the unconscious man as if repelled by an unseen force. But not all of them listened. Fierce tongues of fire lashed out¡ªwild, hungry¡ªonly to recoil with a sharp hiss. Each flicker that dared approach snuffed out instantly as if swallowed by the dark heat that radiated from Wilhelm¡¯s ethereal form. Beneath the surface of his ghostly skin, a low smolder pulsed¡ªan ember that refused to die, burning silently without smoke or ash. Wilhelm''s eyes narrowed as they lingered on Thomas¡¯s face. The man looked fragile, barely breathing, yet Wilhelm couldn¡¯t tear himself away from the man he couldn¡¯t remember¡­ but somehow couldn¡¯t abandon. Chapter 03 Thomas blinked, disoriented by the stark, white ceiling above him. The sharp scent of disinfectant filled his nose, dragging him back to consciousness. He groaned, shifting slightly, only to feel a tug at his wrist. A metallic clink followed. He turned his head and frowned at the sight of handcuffs chaining him to the bed¡¯s railing. ¡°What the hell?¡± he muttered, tugging at them. The cuffs rattled noisily, the sound cutting through the quiet hum of the hospital ward. The movement caught someone¡¯s attention. Across the room, a male nurse¡ªbroad-shouldered, clean-shaven, with an expression that screamed, I don¡¯t get paid enough for this¡ªpaused mid-check on another patient and glanced at him. Thomas didn¡¯t wait. He yanked at the cuffs again, making sure the sound echoed louder this time. The nurse sighed and walked over, his hands tucked into the pockets of his scrubs. He stopped at the foot of Thomas¡¯s bed, his face unreadable. ¡°Finally,¡± Thomas said, raising his cuffed wrist and giving it a little shake. ¡°You planning on explaining why I woke up chained to the bed like a criminal, or is this some kind of avant-garde therapy?¡± The nurse pulled a clipboard off the end of the bed and flipped through it, deliberately ignoring the question. ¡°Hey,¡± Thomas said, leaning forward as far as the restraints would let him. ¡°I¡¯ve been through some bad dates, but this? Waking up cuffed to the bed? This is a first.¡± The nurse¡¯s lips twitched, but his professional demeanor held firm. ¡°You should lie back,¡± he said evenly, checking the monitors beside Thomas¡¯s bed. ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± Thomas said with a smirk. ¡°Let me just lie back and relax while I figure out why I¡¯m suddenly starring in CSI: Hospital Ward.¡± He shook the cuffs again. ¡°This part of the healing process, or is someone going to clue me in on what¡¯s going on?¡± The nurse finally glanced at him, his expression neutral. ¡°You¡¯re under observation,¡± he said. ¡°Observation? What am I, a science experiment?¡± Thomas quipped, arching a brow. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve got better places to be¡ªlike anywhere that doesn¡¯t involve me being shackled to a bed. Mind telling me what this is about?¡± The nurse hesitated, glancing over his shoulder toward the door. ¡°I think you should wait for the officers to explain.¡± ¡°Officers?¡± Thomas¡¯s brows shot up. ¡°Oh, great. Let me guess¡ªsomeone thinks I did something stupid, don¡¯t they? Typical.¡± The nurse¡¯s silence was confirmation enough. Thomas let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. ¡°So that¡¯s it, huh? Wrong place, wrong time, and now I¡¯m the bad guy. Perfect. So, when do I get to talk to someone who actually knows what they¡¯re doing?" The nurse closed the clipboard with a snap and fixed Thomas with a steady look. ¡°I¡¯m just here to make sure you¡¯re stable.¡± ¡°Stable?¡± Thomas tilted his head, feigning offense. ¡°Buddy, I¡¯m not the one cuffing patients to hospital beds. Pretty sure that says more about your operation than mine.¡± This time, the nurse¡¯s mask slipped, a small smirk breaking through. ¡°Just stay put. I¡¯ll let the officers outside know you¡¯re awake.¡± As he turned to leave, Thomas called after him, ¡°Tell them to bring coffee. And maybe a lawyer while they¡¯re at it. And you can call me Tom." "Erik," The nurse responded as he disappeared into the hallway. Left alone, Thomas slumped back against the pillow, his mind racing. For some reason, he felt something boiling deep in his mind. He knew what it was but didn''t know why it was there. Minutes later, Erik returned alone¡ªno cops, no inspectors¡ªjust him with the same skeptical expression plastered across his face. "Nobody was available," Erik said nonchalantly, standing at the edge of the bed. "Guess you¡¯re stuck with me for now. But I''ve got bad news and worse news." Thomas groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. "Perfect. Go with the worst." Erik crossed his arms, his brow arched. "Well, I just got filled in on your situation, and you''re a prime suspect of a cafe arson just a few blocks from here," with a long pause, he continued, "And you were found butt-naked in the burning caf¨¦." Thomas blinked, caught off guard. "Naked?" His voice cracked. "Wait, what caf¨¦? What are you talking about?" Erik¡¯s smirk faded, replaced by a trace of unease. "You really don¡¯t remember, huh?" "No, I don¡¯t!" Thomas snapped, his voice rising. "One second I¡¯m¡ª" He paused, his mind foggy. He couldn¡¯t even remember the last thing he was doing before waking up here. Erik studied him for a moment, his gaze sharp and assessing. "Well, the cops think you torched the place. Found you lying next to a crispy corpse like some kinda pyromaniac Romeo." Thomas stared at him, his chest tightening. "That¡¯s insane! I didn¡¯t¡ª" He stopped himself, his hands curling into fists against the cold metal of the cuffs. "I¡¯m a cop, for fuck¡¯s sake!" Erik snorted, pulling a syringe from his pocket. "Yeah, and I¡¯m a cardiologist. Hold still while I jab you with this miracle shot." Thomas growled, sitting up straighter despite the ache in his body. "Call the fucking supervisor! I don¡¯t care who¡ªjust call the ones who brought me here! I am not sitting ducks while you people treat me like some goddamn criminal!" The outburst hung in the air, and for a moment, Erik looked genuinely startled. But his expression quickly turned guarded again, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Y¡¯know, you¡¯ve got a hell of a temper for a guy in your position," Erik muttered, stepping back. "Maybe that¡¯s why you¡¯re cuffed." Thomas glared at him, his breathing uneven. "I¡¯m not some psycho¡ªhelllll!" "Look, Tom¡ªjust try to relax. I¡¯ll make sure they¡ª" The ward door burst open with a violent slam, the sound reverberating through. A heavyset officer strolled in, his belly straining against the buttons of his uniform. The man reeked of sweat and cigarette smoke, his gut leading the way as he sauntered toward Thomas with a cocky swagger. His unkempt mustache looked as unsightly as his uniform, which hadn¡¯t been laundered in ages. "So, this is our big-shot firebug," the cop sneered, his voice thick with disdain. His name tag read A. Monroe, but the smug look on his face told Thomas everything he needed to know: this guy didn¡¯t play by any rulebook. Thomas blinked, sizing him up. "And you are?" "Your worst nightmare, fuckard!" Monroe sauntered closer, his meaty hands resting on his hips, one of them tapping the holster where his gun sat snugly. "Yeah? You¡¯re gonna have to get in line," Thomas muttered, trying to sit up. Monroe didn¡¯t laugh. Instead, he reached down, yanked a nearby chair, and dragged it with an obnoxious screech across the floor. He dropped into it like a sack of bricks, leaning forward, his breath hot and rank. "So why don¡¯t you save us all the trouble and spill it, huh? You torch that caf¨¦ to cover up some drug deal gone bad? Or were you just bored and felt like playing roasting some marshmallow?" Thomas smirked, ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware nudists were into pyromania. Or marshmallows. Monroe jabbed his sausage-like finger toward Thomas¡¯s chest. "Oh, come on. Don¡¯t play dumb. You were found butt-ass naked in the middle of a bonfire. Smells like guilt to me." Erik cleared his throat, stepping in cautiously. "Officer, I don¡¯t think¡ª" "Pipe down, Nurse Betty," Monroe snapped, waving him off without a glance. "This is police business. Go fluff some pillows, or whatever it is you do." Erik clenched his jaw, but he didn¡¯t respond. Thomas let out a bitter laugh, drawing Monroe¡¯s attention back to him. "Wow. A big guy with a badge and a gun. Must feel real powerful, eh?" Monroe¡¯s face darkened, and his hand moved instinctively to the gun. "You wanna test me, smartass? ¡®Cause I¡¯ve got a solution for that mouth of yours right here." "Try it," Thomas shot back, his voice low and steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him. "Let¡¯s see how that works out for you." The tension crackled in the air like a live wire. Thomas, however, wasn¡¯t in the mood to play nice. "I wasn¡¯t ¡®roasting marshmallows¡¯ anywhere, you sack of lard!"Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Monroe¡¯s jaw clenched, and his hand shot out, grabbing Thomas by the front of his hospital gown. "What¡¯d you just say to me?" "Hey!" Erik stepped forward, alarmed. "Let go of him!" "Stay out of this!" Monroe barked, his eyes locked on Thomas. Thomas didn¡¯t flinch. His lips curled on the corners as he stared Monroe down. "You heard me. SACK OF LA¡ª" Before Thomas could finish, Monroe¡¯s free hand shot forward, slamming the side of his head with a meaty crack. The force of the blow sent Thomas¡¯s head snapping to the side, his vision swimming. "That¡¯s enough!" Erik shouted, stepping between them and shoving Monroe back. "Relax, Nurse!" Monroe barked, standing up. "This bastard deserved it." Thomas groaned, shaking his head to clear it, his cuffs clinking against the bed rail as he moved. "You hit like a toddler," he muttered, his voice slurred. "Pig face!" Monroe snapped, his face visibly turned red. He unholstered his pistol and brought the butt of it crashing down on Tom''s head. Blood trickled down immediately from the wound, but Tom didn''t flinch. Instead, his free hand shot out, fast and deliberate, reaching for the weapon. He missed. His fingers closed tightly around the officer''s collar instead, yanking him closer. "Unhand me, you filthy cur!" The officer shouted, his voice trembling as he disengaged the pistol''s safety. The cold barrel pressed firmly against Tom''s forehead. The room erupted into chaos. Patients screamed, some clutching one another, others bolting for the door. Erik froze momentarily, then instinctively moved between the fleeing crowd and the standoff, hands raised as he tried to intervene. "Everyone calm down!" Erik said, his voice tight but steady. He stood at a careful distance, ready to dip if things escalated. "This is a hospital, please, stop!" Tom''s grip on the Monroe''s collar tightened. His knuckles turn white as his gaze bore into Monroe''s eye. Monroe snarled, "I swear, I will blow your damn brains out if you don''t let go right now!" Tom exhaled slowly, his breath trembling as he forced himself to speak. "On what grounds?" "Do I need a goddamn reason?" Monroe barked. His voice cracked, but his hand stayed steady, the barrel unmoving. "You are a filthy criminal, and I will put you down right here if I have to for assault!" Tom clenched his jaw. He knew he was in the wrong. That he crossed the line when his temper flared uncontrollably. Slowly, reluctantly, his grip loosened. "I am sorry, Officer Monroe," Tom muttered, his voice low and heavy. But the gun stayed where it was. Monroe''s eye didn''t waver, his finger hovering just a twitch away from the trigger. The tension grew suffocating. "Officer," Erik said softly, stepping forward now. He raised his hands, palms outward in a show of calm. "Please. He is injured. Let me dress him. You can deal with him later¡ªjust put the gun away." Monroe''s gaze flickered to Erik for a split second. Then, back to Thomas, his jaw tightened, but slowly, he lowered the weapon. Erik didn''t waste any time. He pulled a tray close, the glint of sanitized cotton and disinfectant catching the light. "Lie down," he said firmly to Thomas. Thomas hesitated but obeyed, slumping back on the hospital bed. Erik''s hand moved quick in a steady manner as he started cleaning the wound. Monroe stood over them. He lowered the gun to his side, finger on the ready. "This ain''t over." His voice quiet. Tom didn''t respond. He just stared ahead as Erik worked silently to steam the bleeding. ¡°This might need a stitch,¡± Erik said. ¡°Just clean and wrap it up,¡± Tom grumbled. ¡°And officer, are you supervising me alone? Where''s your partner?¡± ¡°None of your fucking business, is it?¡± Monroe spat. Well, Thomas took a deep breath, trying his best not to let his rage unhinge. ¡°Well, officer, I need you to call your supervisor and look up for me. Badge n¡ª.¡± ¡°You think I didn''t look up for you?¡± Monroe cracked, threatening with his gun. ¡°You are nothing but another third-rate arsonist.¡± ¡°What''s my name, officer?¡± ¡°You tell me, scumbag!¡± ¡°Well, let me finish then?¡± ¡°NOoo!¡± Thomas sighed, ¡°At least get me a lawyer.¡± Monroe flipped off his middle finger and took his phone out, scrolling through unbothered. "Monroe!" A sharp, authoritative voice called out. Kelly O¡¯Hara walked in, her tall, lean frame radiating control. Her eyes darted from Thomas¡¯s forehead and back to Monroe, cursing under her breath. She didn¡¯t bother with pleasantries. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, cross-armed. Monroe hesitated. He tried hiding his gun behind his back, "just trying to keep the suspect in check." "By cracking his skull?" Kelly shot back, her eyes narrowing. "Gun. Now." Monroe took a step back, grumbling. Kelly narrowed her eyes with an outstretched hand. Monroe offered it slowly. She grabbed it from his hand and stepped forward, kicking him on the shin. AAckk~ Monroe glared at her, his face red, ¡°You can¡¯t just¡ª¡± ¡°I can, and I am,¡± Kelly snapped, cutting him off. Monroe huffed and muttered something under his breath. Kelly shushed Monroe, turning her attention to Thomas and Erik. "You okay?" "Define ¡®okay,¡¯" Thomas said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I¡¯m cuffed to a bed, bleeding from the head, and apparently, I¡¯m a naked arsonist. How¡¯s your day going?" Kelly¡¯s lips twitched, though she didn¡¯t smile. "We¡¯ll get to the bottom of this. Erik, how bad is it?" "Not terrible," Erik said, finishing the bandage on Thomas¡¯s forehead. "Could¡¯ve used stitches, but he insisted on just wrapping it up." Kelly nodded, then focused on Thomas again. "I¡¯m Detective O¡¯Hara. And you are?" "Thomas Everly," he replied, locking eyes with her. "Badge number 12057. You can check." Her brows lifted slightly at that. "We''ll get the confirmation any moment now, detective or not." She pulled out her phone, already typing. She nodded to Erik. "Can you give us the room? And let me know if he can be taken to the station." Erik hesitated, glancing between Monroe and Kelly. "Are you sure?" Kelly assured him. With a reluctant nod, Erik stepped out. Kelly waited until the door clicked shut before turning back to Thomas. She sat beside his bed on a stool, crossing her legs. "Now, let¡¯s get a few things straight. Even if you are a detective, that doesn¡¯t explain why you were found unconscious and naked in the middle of an arson scene. Care to fill in the blanks?" Thomas opened his mouth, then closed it again. The fog in his memory still hadn¡¯t cleared. "I¡­ I don¡¯t know," he admitted, frustration coloring his voice. "I don¡¯t remember anything." "Convenient, huh?" Monroe chimed in bitterly. Kelly shot him a look, silencing him before turning back to Tom. "Isn¡¯t it funny, Mr. Tom?" Tom took a deep breath, fighting to keep his composure. "Officer," he said, calm but firm, "Just contact HQ. Tell them to look up badge number CP-12057. You¡¯ll find my handsome face." Monroe let out a harsh chuckle, his finger tapping the side of his hip. "Badge number? What¡¯s next?" Tom ignored him, his attention solely on Kelly. "Please!" Kelly studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Let''s just put him behind the bars, okay?" Monroe sneered. "Monroe," Kelly hissed, ¡°Your breath stinks!¡± But Monroe wasn¡¯t done. He raised his finger gun at Tom¡¯s head. "Maybe I ought to make sure this fucker doesn¡¯t crawl out of the bars this time, huh? One clean shot and solved. The law sucks anyway, doesn¡¯t it?" Tom stared at him. "Officer Kelly," he said evenly, "Please contact HQ. Look up CP-12057. I¡¯m telling the truth!" Monroe¡¯s smirk faltered. Sweat glistened on his forehead, but he quickly masked it with a scowl. "What nonsense? Is that the badge number of the guy you burned to ashes?" Before Kelly could respond, her radio crackled to life. She turned away, speaking into it briefly. Moments later, her phone buzzed. She glanced down at the screen. Her eyes widened slightly, and she straightened up, tucking the phone back into her pocket. Kelly studied Thomas for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright. I¡¯ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now. Captain Everly.¡± She walked over to Monroe, eyes twitching. "Keys!" Monroe blinked, confused. "What?" "Keys! Now!" She snapped. Monroe hesitated, but Kelly was tired of wiping his ass. She kicked him in the same place, way harder. He yelped in pain, stumbling back. "Keys!" Monroe fished them out seething and handed them over. Kelly uncuffed Thomas. "Sorry for the treatment, Captain Everly," she said, stepping back, ¡°But captain or not, you''re still a suspect. Hope you understand.¡± Monroe paled, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. "C-Captain?" Tom stood, pulling the IV catheter from his arm in a swift motion. His towering frame cast a shadow over Monroe, who looked comically small and inflated. "What?" Tom said, his veins bulged. Monroe swallowed hard. "I... I apologize for using excessive force, Captain." "That¡¯s all?" Tom asked, taking a step closer. Monroe backed away, his eyes darting around the room. "I¡ªuh¡ªI¡¯m sorry, sir. Deeply sorry." Tom hardly kept the rage bottled, but Monroe''s bearing pissed him off. His right fist shot forward in a blur on Monroe''s solar plexus. Making him keel over. His mustache face contorted in agony as he doubled over, gasping for breath. He ended up puking all over himself and the floor. "Ugh, this pig," Kelly pinched her nose in disgust, " I apologize again, Captain Everly. But I''ll have to cuff you again if you pull out similar stunts.¡± "Reasonable¡ªI won''t add insubordination to the charges." Tom walked towards the door. Erik was about to come in just then, but he stepped back and quickly scanned the room. ¡°Don¡¯t kill me!¡± Tom laughed. He patted Erik¡¯s shoulder, ¡°Sure¡ªif you lend me a set of your spare clothes.¡± "What the actual fuck is going on?" Erik was still in disbelief. "Nothing much," Tom pointed to Monroe, "He chewed more than he could digest." Erik looked at Monroe, then to Kelly, and seeing her node, he calmed down. He looked back at Thomas. Tom smiled, "Don''t worry, I''ll buy you a new pair and dinner at a fancy place.¡± He offered his hand, ¡°Deal?¡± Erik clasped it firmly, ¡°If I don¡¯t wake up cuffed?¡± Both of them laughed at it. ¡°What did I miss?¡± Kelly joined them as the trio walked in the hallway. Chapter 04 The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, their cold glare making the white walls of the morgue feel even more suffocating. Tom rubbed his temples¡ªhis skin itched under the bandage. He tried to remember, but all that came to him was fire. Endless, consuming flames. And a body, motionless. After that, everything was a blur. His head throbbed, and the sharp scent of antiseptic burned his nostrils. He shouldn¡¯t be here. But he needed to see for himself. Kelly walked beside him, her boots clicking rhythmically against the tiled floor. She hadn¡¯t said much since they left the ward, but her silence was louder than any accusation. Tom could feel her eyes on him, watching, weighing. Prime suspect. The words weren¡¯t spoken, but they were there, hanging in the air between them. ¡°You sure you don¡¯t remember anything, Captain Everly?¡± Kelly asked. Her voice was flat, her gaze locked straight ahead. ¡°You were found naked next to a corpse in a burning building. Not exactly a forgettable night.¡± Tom exhaled through his nose. ¡°I told you, Sergeant. I don¡¯t remember what I did yesterday. Let alone me being there. And your claims don¡¯t exactly make any sense.¡± Kelly¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn¡¯t respond. The morgue attendant led them down a narrow hallway, the temperature dropping with each step. The walls felt too close, and Tom¡¯s breath fogged in front of him. When they reached a steel door, the attendant turned to them expectantly. Kelly gave a curt nod. ¡°We¡¯ll take it from here.¡± The attendant hesitated, his eyes flicking to Tom. Tom gave him a slow nod, and he briskly walked away. Kelly exhaled, gripping the handle. ¡°Just so you know,¡± she said, pulling the door open, ¡°the body¡¯s in bad shape. Burned beyond recognition.¡± Inside, the room was stark and freezing. The air was thick with the sterile, metallic scent of death. A covered figure lay on a metal table. Kelly walked toward it, resting a hand on the sheet. ¡°The only thing we had to go on was their teeth, but nothing came up in the database.¡± Tom took a slow step forward, his eyes on the body. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s not from here.¡± Kelly¡¯s gaze snapped to him. ¡°So, it¡¯s a he?¡± Tom didn¡¯t answer. He¡¯d been in morgues more times than he could count, but it never got easier. The silence here felt different¡ªheavy. A place where the dead outnumbered the living. Kelly studied him silently as he reached for the sheet, hesitating for just a second before pulling it back. The body was charred beyond recognition. The skin blackened, cracked, and flaked away in places. It barely looked human¡ªa grotesque mockery of life. Tom¡¯s stomach twisted, but he forced himself to look. He had to find something. Anything. A clue. A memory. A reason. He exhaled sharply. ¡°So, you found me beside this?¡± Kelly gave a dry laugh. ¡°That¡¯s the most disturbing part.¡± She studied him, eyes narrowing. ¡°You, standing there, completely unscathed. Not a single deep burn. And no clue how you got there? Yeah. That¡¯s a real masterpiece.¡± Tom let out a slow breath. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s an elaborate setup. Maybe you guys are behind this.¡± He took a step closer, voice dropping. ¡°Look at me. No burns. No real injuries¡ªexcept for the ones your damn officers gave me.¡± He leaned in, stopping just a breath away. ¡°Tell me, Sergeant. Who ordered this?¡± Kelly¡¯s pale blue eyes didn¡¯t waver. Her expression was unreadable. Tom scoffed, stepping back. ¡°You¡¯re being played, too.¡± Kelly exhaled, shaking her head. ¡°And you? You¡¯re not much of a player, Captain.¡± She patted his shoulder as she passed him. Tom turned back to the corpse. His gaze flicked to the visible wound on its back¡ªa deep gash, ugly even through the burns. ¡°What¡¯s the actual cause of death?¡± Kelly shrugged. ¡°Stabbed first, then burned. Or burned alive after being stabbed. ME¡¯s still figuring it out.¡± Tom let out a humorless chuckle. ¡°Good. Very good.¡± He pulled the sheet back over the body, but before covering the face, he studied it one last time. Then¡ª A flicker. A shimmer in the air. It was gone instantly, but the cold it left behind burrowed deep into his bones. His breath hitched. ¡°Did you see that?¡± Kelly frowned. ¡°See what?¡± Tom hesitated, then shook his head. ¡°Shit. That pig really did a number on me.¡± Kelly¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You¡¯re looking more and more like our guy!¡± She turned, walking for the door. ¡°Hiding won¡¯t help.¡± Tom followed her out. The steel door hissed shut behind them. A sharp light stabbed at his head, making him wince. He rubbed his temple, but the chill from the morgue clung to him like unseen fingers trailing down his spine. He shoved his hands into his pockets. ¡°Sergeant, lend me your jacket?¡± Kelly snorted. ¡°Shameless.¡± ¡°And a coffee,¡± he added, flashing a grin. Her eyes widened slightly before she scoffed. ¡°Urghhh¡ª UNBELIEVABLE!¡± ________________ The hallway was alive with the quiet hum of the hospital¡ªthe distant beeping of machines, the soft shuffle of shoes against linoleum. The vending machines near the elevator glowed faintly, their buzzing filling the empty space. Tom leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as Kelly shoved coins into the coffee machine. ¡°You know,¡± she muttered, pressing the button, ¡°most people say please when they ask for something.¡± Tom smirked. ¡°Please.¡± Kelly handed him the cup. ¡°Too late. You¡¯re already on my list.¡± He raised a brow. ¡°What list?¡± ¡°The ¡®People Who Owe Me¡¯ list. You¡¯re at the top.¡± Tom chuckled, lifting the coffee in a mock toast. ¡°I¡¯ll buy you a drink sometime.¡± ¡°Nope. I want answers.¡± Tom exhaled, shaking his head as he took a sip. The steam curled up to warm his face. Kelly tilted her head, watching him. ¡°Seriously though, you should shave or shower for that fact. You look like SHIT! When¡¯s the last time you got real sleep?¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°Sleep¡¯s overrated.¡± ¡°So is whatever bullshit you¡¯re pulling,¡± she muttered. ¡°And yet, here I am, buying you coffee.¡± Tom grinned. ¡°See? You do care.¡± Kelly rolled her eyes, about to reply¡ª The air shifted around him. The vending machine¡¯s hum dulled. The hallway noise faded into an unnatural silence. Tom felt it before he heard it. A presence. A weight pressing against his ears. Faint but unmistakable came the voice¡ªsoft. Cold. Close. "Tom..." His body locked up. The coffee cup slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Liquid splashed across his slippers, but he barely noticed. His breath came short. Eyes darted left, right¡ªsearching. Nothing. Kelly frowned, stepping back, ¡°What the fuck?¡± Tom forced a shaky breath, then smiled, too forced, too stiff. ¡°Shit! It¡¯s just my head.¡± He pressed a hand against the bandage. Kelly¡¯s skepticism deepened. ¡°You sure you¡¯re okay?¡± Tom swallowed. ¡°Peachy.¡± He bent down, picking up the cup. His hands were steady, but his mind was racing. He threw the cup on a nearby dustbin. He muttered under his breath, ¡°Time to meet an old friend, I guess.¡± ¡°What?¡± Kelly asked. Tom shook his head. Kelly sighed, ¡°C¡¯mon. Let¡¯s get out of here.¡± They walked toward the elevator in silence. A familiar voice called out behind them as they waited for the elevator. ¡°Leaving already?¡± Tom turned, his gaze locking onto Erik¡¯s gray eyes. The corners of Erik¡¯s mouth curved into a knowing smirk. Tom exhaled, a faint smile tugging at his lips. ¡°I wish I could take it easy, bro,¡± he said, his voice edged with exhaustion. The elevator chimed softly, doors sliding open with a mechanical hush. Erik gave a lazy wave, and Tom nodded in thanks. He stepped inside, Kelly right behind him. The cold white walls of the elevator seemed to press in on him. The scent of bleach and diarrhea clung to the air¡ªsuffocating. Neither of them spoke as the elevator descended. The hum of the machinery filled the silence, the steady whirring a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Tom¡¯s head. When the doors slid open, they stepped into the hospital¡¯s lobby. The space was alive with quiet urgency¡ªnurses pushing gurneys down the halls, families speaking in hushed voices, the distant beep of heart monitors mingling with the occasional cry of a child. Overhead, the fluorescent lights cast everything in an unnatural, sterile glow. Then came the hiss of the automatic doors and, with it, a rush of cool evening air. Tom stepped outside, inhaling deeply. The late autumn air carried the crisp bite of fallen leaves and the faint scent of damp stone. The city beyond stretched out before him bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun. Gothic spires loomed in the distance, their dark silhouettes cutting through the amber sky. The cobblestone streets shimmered in the fading light, and leaves swirled around his feet like embers caught in the wind. For a fleeting moment, everything felt¡­ softer. Gentler. A world that might have been peaceful if only he could bring himself to believe it. Kelly followed close behind, the jingle of her keys breaking the quiet evening. ¡°Car¡¯s this way,¡± she said, nodding toward the lot. Her voice was its usual calm and professional, but there was something else beneath it. Not quite concern¡ªmore like mild irritation, maybe. Tom wasn¡¯t sure, nor did he care. The air was crisp, laced with the scent of dew-soaked pavement and lingering exhaust fumes. Their footsteps crunched against the gravel as they walked. Tom exhaled slowly, his breath fogging up in the cool evening air. The golden glow of streetlights flickered against the hospital¡¯s glass fa?ade, casting long, distorted shadows that stretched across the lot. Kelly¡¯s car¡ªa sleek, unmarked ?koda sedan¡ªwas parked near the edge. She clicked the key fob, and the headlights blinked in response. Tom paused just before getting in, glancing back at the hospital. The windows glowed dimly, like watchful eyes peering down at them. ¡°You getting in, or do you need a formal invitation?¡± Kelly asked, already sliding into the driver¡¯s seat. Tom sighed and dropped into the passenger seat. The car smelled of stale coffee and gun oil, a familiar mix that did little to calm his nerves. The leather seat creaked as he leaned back, resting his head against the window. His reflection in the window looked more haggard than he cared to admit, ¡°How can I ever get tired of seeing my handsome face?¡± Kelly started the engine, the low purr blending with the distant murmur of city traffic. ¡°You should see a psychiatrist.¡± She merged onto the narrow cobblestone street, ¡°Headquarters?¡± Tom gave a slow nod. ¡°Can¡¯t get enough of my own company.¡± Kelly snorted, maneuvering onto the main road. ¡°Right. Or maybe you just like seeing yourself in the interrogation mirror.¡± Tom groaned, rubbing his temples. ¡°Yeah, well. There¡¯s already a shrink poking around in my head.¡± Kelly¡¯s eyes flicked toward him. ¡°Good. You need one. You look like you¡¯re one bad day away from talking to lampposts.¡± Tom smirked. ¡°Not true. I¡¯d talk to pigeons first. More engaging conversation.¡± She chuckled, merging onto a bridge spanning the Vltava River. The Charles Bridge loomed in the distance, its Gothic statues standing like silent sentinels against the night. Below, the river reflected the glow of streetlamps and neon signs from the Old Town. They drove in comfortable silence for a while, the hum of the tires a steady backdrop. Tom broke the silence. ¡°So, the pig¡­ where¡¯s he?¡± Kelly sighed, shifting gears as they weaved through traffic. ¡°Still unconscious in the hospital.¡± She cast him a sideways glance. ¡°That was slick, though.¡± Tom smirked. ¡°Thanks. Want some pointers?¡± Kelly shrugged. ¡°Why bother when I can just tase them from a safe distance?¡± He chuckled. ¡°Valid.¡± She grinned. ¡°Though, gotta give Monroe credit. He actually used his gun properly for once. If you turn out to be a pyromaniac, I might nominate him for a medal.¡± Tom snorted. ¡°Yeah, sure. But if he spent less time shoving donuts in his face and more time doing his job, he wouldn¡¯t have to resort to assaulting people.¡± Kelly let out a short laugh. ¡°Don¡¯t let him hear you say that. He¡¯ll probably arrest you for ¡®defamation of character.¡¯¡± ¡°Defamation implies there¡¯s a character to defame,¡± Tom shot back. ¡°Monroe¡¯s about as honorable as a thrift store salesman.¡± Kelly shook her head, still grinning. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong. But hey, at least he¡¯s consistent. Consistently terrible.¡± Tom sighed. ¡°How the hell does he still have the job?¡± Kelly tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully. ¡°Being terrible?¡± ¡°Nah,¡± Tom shook his head. ¡°Ten pounds bet he sold his ass.¡± ¡°Or boobs,¡± Kelly added, smirking. The banter eased some of the tension in Tom¡¯s chest. It almost felt normal for a moment¡ªlike they were just two colleagues shooting the breeze after a long shift. But then Kelly¡¯s tone softened just enough for him to notice. ¡°Seriously, though, Captain.¡± She kept her eyes on the road, but her fingers tightened around the wheel. ¡°Despite your stupid mug, I hope you¡¯re innocent.¡± Tom turned to her with a shit-eating grin. ¡°Oh, Kel, my dear. You¡¯re already falling for my charm.¡± Kelly¡¯s face scrunched up immediately. ¡°Fuck you.¡± Tom nudged the radio. ¡°Sorry, not into muscle mummies.¡± That earned him a solid smack to the back of his head. ¡°Insubordination!¡± he declared. Kelly sped up. ¡°Not before I throw you in jail.¡± Tom leaned against the window, watching the blurred cityscape flash past. The winding streets of Prague¡¯s Old Town were lined with baroque buildings, their pastel facades glowing under the streetlights. Trams rumbled in the distance, and the distant chatter of late-night pedestrians filtered through the glass. The car jolted slightly over a pothole, and Tom instinctively glanced at the rearview mirror¡ª His breath hitched. For a split second, he saw eyes. A pair of pale, ghostly eyes staring back at him from the reflection. Hollow. Piercing. His heart slammed against his ribs. He whipped around, scanning the backseat. Nothing. Just empty leather seats. ¡°Tom?¡± Kelly¡¯s voice cut through the silence. He turned back, his fingers gripping his knee. ¡°Yeah. Just... thought I saw something.¡± Kelly flicked her eyes to the mirror, then over her shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re jumpier than a cat in a dog park. Maybe take a nap before you start screaming at shadows.¡± Tom forced a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°Yeah. Maybe I¡ª¡± He glanced at the mirror again. The eyes were still there. ¡°Fuck!¡± Tom jolted upright, twisting in his seat. Kelly slammed the brakes and pulled over, her expression snapping to full alert. ¡°What the hell?¡± Tom¡¯s breath came in shallow gasps. He pointed toward the backseat, his voice low. ¡°I swear¡ª¡± Kelly stayed calm. ¡°What did you see?¡± His hands trembled as he wiped them over his face. Kelly grabbed a water bottle from the cup holder, thrusting it at him. ¡°Take a breath.¡± Tom hesitated, then took the bottle, drinking a few sips. The cold water grounded him, but his mind still reeled. Kelly studied him, then reached into the glove compartment. ¡°Here,¡± she said, tossing him an energy bar. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re just hangry.¡± Tom let out a shaky laugh. ¡°Yeah. Maybe you¡¯re right.¡± He unwrapped the bar and took a bite, chewing mechanically. The taste of chocolate and oats was bitter in his mouth. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. ¡°Wake me when we get there.¡± As the car pulled back onto the road, Tom let the hum of the engine lull him into a restless doze. But in the darkness of his mind, the pale eyes lingered. Watching.