《An Angelic Devil》 Chapter 1 - A Smile 2038, in a place far from civilization. An old, decaying apartment building stood alone down the road, a relic of neglect and despair. It was a crowded structure, packed with tiny, suffocating apartments where only the most unfortunate souls resided. A single glance at this place would be enough to make anyone say, "This is no place to raise a child." Then, in the midst of the deafening silence, a scream shattered the night. A little girl, Jia Sun, froze mid-step as the piercing sound reached her ears. Her heart pounded as she turned, trying to locate its source. Whoever had screamed had been in excruciating pain-she was sure of it. And then, she saw him. A boy, around her age, burst through the door of a burned-out apartment, barefoot, clad in worn-out, dirt-stained clothes. His eyes were puffy and red, as if he''d been crying for hours. Behind him, a large, unkempt man staggered after him, his face twisted in drunken fury. His body reeked of filth, and his bloated figure made it seem like he hadn''t bathed in weeks. Before Jia could even process what was happening, the boy screamed- "AHHHHHH! HELP-" It took only a second for Jia to connect the dots. That first scream she had heard? It had come from inside that apartment. Something terrible had happened.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Her hands trembled as she frantically pulled out her phone and dialed the police. Jia: "Hello, police?? There''s a drunk man chasing a boy-he''s going to hurt him! PLEASE, HURRY!" She could barely breathe, her voice shaking as she pleaded for help. But before she could even finish, her phone slipped from her grasp and crashed onto the pavement. Then-a sickening thud. Jia barely had time to look up when she saw it. The man was falling. He tumbled down the stairs, his bloated body rolling uncontrollably. Once. Twice. Three times. His limbs flailed awkwardly as he crashed to the bottom with a final, unnerving stillness. He did not move. The boy, who had been sprinting for his life just seconds ago, now stood frozen in place. Jia, too stunned to react, could only gape in horror. What the hell just happened? She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. Jia: "Y-you... what happened?" The boy''s lips quivered, his body trembling as he whispered back- Boy: "I-I don''t kn-know... he was chasing me a-and then..." sniff "...Dad? Dad, are you okay? Please... Dad... DAD, PLEASE, I''M TALKING TO YOU!" He rushed toward his father''s lifeless body, his hands shaking as he reached for him. Boy: "Please... help me turn him over. Please, I need to see his face." Jia hesitated. Every instinct screamed at her to stay away. But looking at the boy''s desperate, tear-streaked face, she swallowed her fear and stepped forward. She took a deep breath. Jia: "Okay... in 3... 2... 1... Now!" Together, they turned the man onto his back. And Jia immediately regretted it. Her stomach twisted. Her breath hitched. And then-she vomited all over the ground. A jagged bone jutted out of his twisted neck. The unnatural angle of his head made it clear: he was dead on impact. Jia wiped her mouth, choking on her own breath as her body shook violently. But then-she saw something. Something worse. Something that made her skin crawl. Her breath caught in her throat as she whispered in pure horror- "Did... did he just smile?" She blinked, rubbing her tear-stained eyes. But the image burned itself into her mind. The twisted corpse, the grotesque angle of his neck, the blood pooling beneath him... And that eerie, unnatural grin stretched across the boy''s face. Jia barely even registered the sound of police sirens in the distance. Even as two officers stepped out of their patrol car, her mind stuck on that on soul-chilling question. "Did I see that right?" Chapter 2 - Crime scene A man and a woman stepped out of the car. The young woman had fair skin, long red hair, and striking blue eyes, while the older man, likely in his fifties, wore a stern expression perhaps hardened by years of witnessing horrors on the job. The officers rushed toward the children, shielding their eyes from the gruesome scene before them. Officer Emma (F): "This is..." Officer Alex (M): "I know... Take the children to the car. Call the bureau and request an ambulance immediately." Emma nodded, concern evident on her face. She worried that the children might develop PTSD from what they had just witnessed. Kneeling down to their level, she gently took their hands and spoke in a soft, soothing voice: "Come on, kids, follow me. Everything is going to be alright." As Emma led the children away, Alex remained, his gaze locked on the lifeless body sprawled across the ground. There was no point in checking for a pulse it was obvious the man was long gone. Shifting his attention, Alex''s eyes trailed up to the burned-out apartment building looming over him. The damage suggested a past disaster, possibly a gas leak. He exhaled sharply before ascending the stairs, treading carefully. A misstep sent marbles skittering beneath his foot. He steadied himself, relieved he hadn''t put his full weight down. In a place like this, it wasn''t unusual to find such things families, children, and people surviving in whatever way they could, even if it was as simple as playing with marbles. Reaching the apartment door, Alex hesitated before pushing it open. The air was thick with dust and decay.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "Hello? Is anyone here?" Silence. His fingers instinctively rested on the grip of his gun as he stepped inside. "Hey, what are you doing?" The sudden voice behind him nearly made him draw his weapon. Turning sharply, he let out an exasperated sigh as his pulse settled. Alex: "Sigh... Don''t sneak up on me like that. I almost shot you, Emma." Emma: "Ohh, scary. I literally made noise coming in. Maybe you''re just losing your senses, old man." (She winked). Alex didn''t respond, though the irritation was clear on his face. Together, they navigated the cramped, filthy apartment. It was unfit for any human, let alone a child. Then, Emma froze. A muffled sound-coming from the bathroom. Her breath hitched as she inched toward the door, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Meanwhile, Alex absentmindedly flipped through an old photo album. It held only a single picture of a poised, elegant couple dressed in fine clothing. It didn''t belong here. What was a picture of such seemingly sophisticated people doing in a place like this? Suddenly, a scream. Emma''s voice, sharp and panicked. Alex''s gun was drawn in an instant as he sprinted toward the sound. "EMMA, ARE YOU OKAY?!" He shoved the bathroom door open. Emma was on her knees, trembling, her breath shallow and uneven. "What happened?!" No response. "EMMA, LOOK AT ME! WHAT HAPPENED?!" Still nothing. Her wide, horrified eyes were locked on something. Alex followed her gaze-then stopped dead. His breath caught in his throat. Sweat prickled down his back. Even after all these years... even after everything he had seen... "Oh my God... What kind of animal would do this to a human being?" The scene before them was beyond brutality. A woman was tied up, her body beaten beyond recognition. Bound. Broken. A grotesque display of cruelty. Her eyes gouged out. Her frail frame bore the unmistakable signs of torture. Yet, somehow... she was still breathing. Barely clinging to life. Then, with a voice so faint it was almost lost in the suffocating stillness, the woman whispered something. A clue? A warning? A desperate plea? Neither officer could tell. But whatever it was... it was enough to shake them to their core. Alex: "Mayday! Mayday! We have a critical situation" Chapter 3 - The Boy Who Cried The backup and ambulance arrived after what felt like an eternity. Twenty minutes had passed, but for Alex and Emma, time had stretched unbearably. It was too late¡ªthe woman had succumbed to her injuries before help could reach her. Her final, barely audible words remained a mystery, lost to the void. The police cordoned off the area, declaring the apartment a crime scene, and immediately began their investigation. Shaking off the initial shock, Alex and Emma composed themselves, regaining their professionalism as they assisted in gathering evidence. Inside the patrol car, the boy sat in silence, his swollen, tear-streaked face pressed against the window as he watched his father¡¯s body being loaded into an ambulance. His sobs had become quieter, but his small frame still trembled. Beside him, Jia remained eerily still, lost in her own thoughts. A single question echoed in her mind, repeating over and over like a broken record: Did he smile? She had seen it¡ªhadn¡¯t she? That fleeting, unnatural expression amidst the horror. But how could that be? The boy was still crying, his body weak from grief. Had her mind played tricks on her? Was it an illusion born from the sheer terror of the scene? The uncertainty gnawed at her, a storm of unease swirling inside her chest. The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Jia from her trance. Alex and Emma had returned, their expressions softened as they crouched slightly to meet the children''s eye level. Emma: "Are you kids okay? I¡¯m so sorry you had to see something so awful¡­ No child should have to witness that." Alex gave a reassuring nod. Alex: "You''re safe now. We¡¯ll take you to the station for some routine questions. It¡¯s just a standard procedure, so there¡¯s nothing to worry about." He reached out, gently patting Jia¡¯s head. But before he could continue, the boy suddenly burst out, his voice hoarse with desperation. Cain: "NO! I DON¡¯T WANNA GO! WHAT ABOUT MY FATHER?!" The two officers exchanged a brief glance, momentarily struggling to find the right words. Emma¡¯s usual warm demeanor faltered. She hesitated before speaking, unable to meet the boy¡¯s gaze. Emma: "Your father¡­ is no longer with us. I¡¯m so sorry." The words felt like a knife twisting in her chest. Having to break such news to a child was always gut-wrenching, but this was different. This boy, barely sixteen, had not only lost his mother in the most brutal way imaginable but had also watched his father die before his eyes. Alex, typically hardened by years of seeing death, softened slightly. Alex: "I know this is hard, kid. I really do. And if we had gotten here earlier, maybe¡­ maybe things could¡¯ve been different. But I need you to understand there¡¯s nothing we can do now. I¡¯m sorry." Cain swallowed his sobs, his small hands curling into fists on his lap. Finally, he gave a slow, reluctant nod. Emma turned to Jia, her voice gentle. Emma: "And you? Are you okay?"Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Jia blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. Jia: "O-oh¡­ yeah. I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just¡­" Her voice trailed off. Emma: "Don¡¯t worry. You¡¯re safe now." With that, the officers ushered them into the car and drove to the station. After some time they reached the station and put the kids in the a interrogation room The room was cold and clinical, its walls painted a dull gray. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly, casting a sterile glow over the metal table where Cain and Jia sat. Emma took notes diligently, recording every detail as Cain answered their questions. What happened? Why was your father chasing you? Who was the woman in the apartment? Cain¡¯s answers came smoothly, his voice trembling just enough to sound convincingly distraught. Cain: "She was my mom. My dad¡­ he was always drunk. He¡ªhe hurt her. He hurt me. And today, I tried to stop him, but¡­ he got angry. He came after me. I ran. I didn¡¯t know he would fall¡­" He broke into sobs, his face buried in his hands. Emma¡¯s heart clenched. Alex, however, remained unreadable. His gaze was sharp, calculating, as he listened intently. Then, after a long pause, he reached into his pocket and placed a photograph on the table. Alex: "Cain, you said your parents lost everything to debt, right?" Cain sniffled and nodded. Alex: "Then tell me¡­ do you recognize these people?" Cain lifted his head, his swollen eyes locking onto the photo. For a moment, silence hung thick in the air. Then, without hesitation, he spoke. Cain: "Yes. They¡¯re my parents." A heavy silence fell over the room. Emma¡¯s pen froze mid-scribble. Emma: "Wait¡­ what?" The photograph depicted a sophisticated, well-dressed couple¡ªelegant, polished, and wealthy. Their refined appearance was a stark contrast to the filthy, battered bodies found in that apartment. Emma: "You¡¯re saying¡­ those two are your parents?" Cain: "Yes. They used to be rich. But they lost everything before I was born. Debts ruined them. And¡­ they changed." Emma scrambled to write everything down, her hands slightly shaky. Something about this case wasn¡¯t adding up. Meanwhile, Alex turned his attention to Jia. Alex: "Alright, your turn. Tell us everything from the beginning." Jia hesitated, gathering her thoughts before recounting the events. As she described the man¡¯s death, Cain sniffled softly beside her, his quiet sobs filling the room. Then, she stopped. Alex caught the hesitation instantly. Alex: "You helped turn the body over, right?" Jia¡¯s pulse quickened. She didn¡¯t know what to say. Did she really see that smile? Or was it just her imagination? She turned her head slightly, stealing a glance at Cain. His face was still buried in his hands. But from the gaps between his fingers¡­ He was looking at her. A chill ran down her spine. Alex: "Then¡­?" Jia swallowed hard. Jia: "S-sorry¡­ I feel like I¡¯m going to be sick. Can I use the bathroom?" Alex studied her for a moment before nodding. Alex: "Go ahead." Emma sighed. You too Cain you can wait outside, dear [she said]. Emma: "You¡¯re too hard on her, old man." Alex: "I¡¯m just trying to make sense of this damn case. Two dead parents. A ¡®typical¡¯ tragic story. But something doesn¡¯t sit right." Emma leaned back. Emma: "I agree. This case is a mess. But those kids¡­ if they don¡¯t develop PTSD after this, they¡¯ll be damn lucky." In the bathroom Jia splashed cold water on her face, gripping the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear. That boy¡­ He had been looking at her. Through his fingers, as if waiting¡ªno, watching. She shivered. Was she just being paranoid? The door creaked open. A voice echoed behind her. "Hey, Jia." Her entire body locked up. The color drained from her face. Slowly, she turned. It was Cain. Jia: "What¡­ are you doing here? Did you follow me?" Cain hesitated, rubbing his arm nervously. Cain: "S-sorry. I just¡­ I wanted to thank you. You saved my life. If it weren¡¯t for you, I¡ªI¡¯d be dead." His voice cracked, and without warning, he dropped to his knees, sobbing. Jia¡¯s chest tightened. Maybe¡­ maybe she was overthinking things. Hesitantly, she reached out. Jia: "It¡¯s okay. You¡¯re safe now. But¡­ please. Just¡­ give me some space." She hurried out of the bathroom. Behind her, Cain slowly lifted his head. His tears were gone. His face was empty. Expressionless. Cold. He turned to the mirror, staring at his own reflection. And then¡ª He smiled. Chp4 - The Whispers Of Heaven Jia left the bathroom, perplexed by her emotions. She sat in the waiting area, trying to piece together the whirlwind of thoughts clouding her mind. Inside the interrogation room, Emma and Alex were deep in discussion, attempting to connect the dots. Emma: "An accident and a murder. We can forget about the accident for now and focus on what we have, a woman, tortured and brutalized. Doesn''t it seem strange that no neighbor heard anything? No one reported it?" Alex leaned against the table, arms crossed. Alex: "The couple were once rich, lost everything to debt about sixteen years ago. That means they¡¯ve been in that apartment ever since. A place like that¡­ things happen, but something is off. It¡¯s like¡ª" A phone call interrupted. Emma: "Sorry, I need to take this. It''s from the morgue." Alex: "Go ahead." As Emma stepped out to answer the call, Alex flipped through the documents in front of him. The reports detailed various crimes within that sinful apartment complex, a heaven for drug dealers and criminals. But one report stood out. A case. A missing child. "2021, January 4th. A young boy reported missing at the Aragoub apartment complex. Upon arrival, investigators found the mother in distress, claiming her son had vanished from inside the apartment. There were no signs of forced entry. No witnesses. No traces. It was as if the child had been erased from existence." Alex frowned. The report ended there. No updates. No follow-ups. The door burst open. Emma: "Alex, we have a clue. Follow me to the morgue." He shoved the document into his coat pocket and hurried after her. --- The Morgue They arrived like a thunderstorm, the air tense with anticipation. An officer led them to where the victims¡¯ bodies lay under white sheets. Officer: "Investigators. You might want to see this." He pulled out a bloodstained piece of paper, sealed in plastic. Officer: "We found this on the woman. I have no idea if it''s connected to your case, but¡­" Emma took the paper, her hands steady but her pulse unsteady. She read aloud: "In the midst of hope lies despair. Life is a cruel jest, an unending cycle of joy and agony, where we rise only to fall again. The only true escape is to step beyond the cycle, to surrender, to fade into the silence. Death is not an end, but a whisper in eternity, a slumber for weary souls. I prayed for salvation. And he answered me with a smile."This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. "The light behind him was blinding, like an angel come to lift me away. "Today, I¡¯ll descend to heaven." Silence. An eerie sensation filled the room. It was as if someone, something, was watching with a smile, laughing at this whole situation. Emma turned the page over. A symbol. Its meaning was unknown, but something about it was inherently wrong. Alex: "What the hell is this supposed to mean?" Emma: "Was she religious? Did she know she was going to die? And most importantly... She swallowed. Emma: "Who is ¡®he¡¯?" No one spoke. Yet, for the first time, they all felt it. that creeping, unseen presence. Something was very, very wrong with this case. Officer: "That symbol¡­ it¡¯s not the first time I¡¯ve seen it." Emma and Alex exchanged glances. Officer: "Months ago, some homeless guy came into the station, rambling. He kept saying he¡¯d seen ¡®the mark of the hollowed.¡¯ We thought he was just another junkie. Maybe¡­" Emma stared at the strange emblem. It almost looked like an eye. Watching. Waiting. Emma: "We need to find that man." --- Meanwhile, at the Station ¨C An officer approached Jia and Cain, placing snacks in front of them. Officer: "Jia, we called your parents. They¡¯re on their way. You¡¯re safe now." Jia exhaled in relief. Finally. The officer turned to Cain, crouching down to his eye level. Officer: "Hey, little man. Why aren¡¯t you eating? Don¡¯t you like it?" Cain sat curled into himself, arms wrapped around his legs, staring at the floor. The officer softened, placing a gentle hand on his back. Officer: "I get it. It''s hard." She glanced at Jia¡ªat her relieved expression, at the warmth of knowing she had a family waiting. Cain had no one. She sighed. Officer: "I know what you''re thinking." Cain finally looked up at her. She smiled, but there was something knowing. something old. in her eyes. Officer: "It¡¯s easy to let jealousy poison you. To let it fester, grow, turn into something dark. It tells you that you deserve more. That life is unfair. And the more you feed it, the hungrier it becomes. Until one day... it eats you alive." Cain stared at her. For the first time, something flickered in Cain¡¯s expression. He was affected by her words. He smiled and nodded hesitantly. The officer grinned, ruffling his hair. Officer: "That¡¯s better. Here¡ª" She pulled out a chocolate bar from her pocket, handing it to him. Officer: "I bought this for my little brother, but I think you deserve it more." A call came from across the station. "Kath! We need you!" Kath: "Coming!" She turned back to Cain, giving his cheek a playful pinch. Kath: "Welp, i gotta bounce. Look for me if you need anything, okay?" She left. A moment later, a loud voice could be heard from afar. JIA- Jia''s mother rushed in, her father close behind. Jia shot to her feet. Jia: "Mom! Dad!" Her parents pulled her into a crushing embrace, their voices thick with emotion. Mother: "My baby! I was so worried!" Father: "You¡¯re safe now. Daddy¡¯s got you." They held her close, whispering reassurances. Across the room, Cain watched. His fingers gripped the chocolate bar. Something in his expression softened. But just beneath that softness, something else stirred. Something deep. Something unknowable. Jia, still holding onto her parents, glanced back one last time. Cain was staring. Not with anger. Not with sadness. Just¡­ staring. Her stomach twisted. Something about his gaze¡ªsomething unreadable¡ªunnerved her. She turned away. Then¡ª A whisper. Soft. Barely there. Only for her ears. Cain: "You''re lucky, Jia." Her breath caught. She turned back. Cain hadn¡¯t moved. His lips hadn¡¯t parted. Jia swallowed hard and followed her parents out the door. The station grew quiet, and Cain sat alone. The distant echoes of voices and footsteps faded as Jia and her family left. Slowly, he unwrapped the chocolate bar, staring at it for a moment before taking a small bite. The sweetness melted on his tongue, unfamiliar yet pleasant. His fingers absentmindedly traced the table¡¯s surface. There, faint but visible, were scratches¡ªmarks left behind by years of restless hands. People who sat hee before him. People who were questioned. People who left. Some never did. Then, a quiet smile. Not one of joy. Not one of sorrow. Something else entirely. He took another bite of the chocolate. Chp5 - The Eye The city streets were damp with the remnants of last night''s rain, neon lights flickering in puddles like fractured dreams. The police station buzzed with its usual rhythm¡ªofficers shuffling papers, phones ringing, conversations overlapping in a tangled mess of urgency. But within the chaos, two minds worked in silence, their thoughts threading through the strange case that now consumed them. Emma tapped her pen against the table, frustration evident in her furrowed brow. "This damn case doesn¡¯t make sense, Alex," she muttered. "The letter, the weird religious-like message, the symbol. it all feels¡­ bigger than just a murder." Alex leaned back, exhaling sharply. "And then there''s the junkie." The mention of him shifted the atmosphere. A few months ago, a disheveled man had stumbled into the morgue, raving about "an angel" and a "descent to heaven." At the time, it was dismissed as the ramblings of a drug-addled mind. But now? Now, it felt too relevant to ignore. Emma snapped her fingers. "We need to find that guy. If he¡¯s still alive, he might know something." Tracking him down wasn¡¯t easy. The man, identified as Samuel Gray, was a ghost¡ªno permanent address, moving from shelter to alleyway like a shadow. It took hours, a few bribes, and an exhausted network of informants before they found him in the back of a run-down motel, rocking back and forth on a stained mattress. The air inside reeked of alcohol, sweat, and something stale¡ªsomething rotten. His fingers twitched as he looked up at them, wild-eyed, his lips curling into a trembling smile. "You¡¯ve come," he whispered. Emma and Alex exchanged a glance. "Samuel Gray?" Alex asked. The man nodded, but his expression darkened. "Are you here because of the angel?" Emma took a cautious step forward. "Tell us about the angel, Samuel." His breath hitched, as if remembering something sacred¡­ or horrifying. "He came down. A bright light behind him. I thought¡ªI thought he would save me. But his eyes¡­" He swallowed hard. "There was nothing human in his eyes." Alex frowned. "Who are you talking about?" Samuel let out a weak chuckle. "He didn''t just descend to heaven¡­ He brought it with him. Or maybe¡­ maybe it wasn¡¯t heaven at all." His voice turned into a whisper. "You saw it, didn¡¯t you? The eye." Emma¡¯s blood ran cold. "What eye?" Samuel¡¯s shaky hands reached for something under the mattress. He pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper, smudged and torn. On it was a crude drawing. an eye, eerily similar to the one found on the back of the woman¡¯s letter. Emma clenched her jaw. "Where did you get this?" Samuel''s eyes flickered with something between terror and reverence. "He gave it to me." he rasped before he¡­ smiled. A long silence followed. Alex spoke first. "We need to go." Back at the station, Alex sat at his desk, flipping through old case files. His mind was running in circles, but something told him the answers were right in front of him. Then he saw it again. A case from 2021. A missing boy.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. There were no photographs¡ªjust a description. Male, around sixteen or seventeen years old at the time, fair hair, striking features, intelligent. Something in Alex¡¯s gut twisted as he read it. The description matched Cain. Emma noticed the way his body tensed. "What is it?" He turned the file towards her. She scanned it, eyes widening. "This¡­ is Cain." "No," Alex muttered. "It can¡¯t be. This case was over a decade ago. Cain wasn¡¯t even born then." Emma didn¡¯t respond. Because she was thinking the same thing. Alex stood abruptly. "We need to talk to the mother." Tracking the mother was much easier than they thought. She was a regular person who lived in a quiet neighborhood. They reached her house, it was an old small house but not dirty, they rang the bell then the door creaked open only slightly, revealing a woman with sunken eyes and a face worn by years of grief. She barely had time to react before her expression twisted with fury. "Police? How dare you show up after all these years?". "GO AWAY," she hissed. "Ma¡¯am, please," Alex said quickly. "We know the case wasn¡¯t solved, but we have new information. Just five minutes." She hesitated, then finally stepped aside. Inside, the house was dark, filled with old memories and dust-covered relics of a life that had once been full. Emma sat down carefully. "You mentioned your son spoke about an angel." The woman¡¯s lips trembled. "He said the angel was coming. That he was going to be taken somewhere better. I thought¡ªI thought it was just a child¡¯s imagination." Alex reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a printed image of Cain. He slid it across the table. "Does this boy remind you of anyone?" The mother¡¯s breath hitched. Her fingers trembled as they reached for the photo. Then, a sudden, sharp intake of air¡ªher entire body went rigid. Tears welled in her eyes as she clutched the paper. "Where did you get this?" Her voice broke. "Where did you get this?! This is my son!" Alex and Emma shared a look. Nothing about this case made sense. And it was only getting worse. The air in the room was thick, suffocating. Alex and Emma sat frozen as the woman clutched the photograph, her entire body shaking. "This is my son," she repeated, her voice raw. "Where did you find him?" Alex hesitated. "His name is Cain. He¡¯s currently in our custody." Her breath hitched, and for a brief second, there was something in her eyes hope? Relief? But it was short-lived. She slammed the photo down. "You¡¯re lying," she whispered. "You¡¯re messing with me. My son disappeared thirteen years ago." Emma leaned forward. "We¡¯re not lying. We don¡¯t understand this either. But Cain¡­ he looks exactly like the description in your son¡¯s file." The woman covered her mouth, her shoulders trembling. Then, she stood up abruptly and stormed to a cabinet in the corner. Her fingers fumbled with the lock before she yanked it open. Inside were stacks of old files, some yellowed with time. She pulled out a small sketchbook, flipping through pages until she stopped at one particular drawing. She turned it toward them. It was the eye. The same symbol they had found on the letter. Alex exhaled sharply. "Your son drew this?" She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "He said the angel showed it to him. Told him it was a mark of salvation." Emma and Alex exchanged glances. The junkie. The letter. The missing boy. Cain. It was all connected. Emma tapped the sketchbook. "Do you have anything else? Notes, drawings, anything that might help us understand what your son was involved in?" The mother hesitated before flipping through the pages. Most of them were harmless doodles and scribbles of random thoughts, but then, she stopped at one page, her face pale. Emma and Alex leaned in. It was a list. Not just any list...names. of them was the woman who had just been murdered. The drive back to the station was silent. Emma was gripping the case file so tightly her knuckles were white. "This isn¡¯t a coincidence," she said finally. "This woman¡¯s name was on a list drawn over a decade ago. And now she¡¯s dead." Alex sighed, his hands tightening on the wheel. "This isn¡¯t just a murder case anymore. There¡¯s something bigger at play here." Emma rubbed her temples. "And Cain? What the hell is he? A missing boy reborn? A copy? A coincidence? What are we even dealing with?" Alex didn¡¯t answer. Because he didn¡¯t know. Back at the station, Cain sat quietly in the corner, the chocolate bar from Officer Kath was on in his lap. He had barely moved since Jia left with her parents. A few officers whispered as they passed, throwing him curious glances. He was an anomaly, an unsolvable question. The officer watching him sighed, walking over and crouching beside him. "You okay, kid?" Cain blinked, his expression unreadable. "Want something else to eat?" Cain turned to him slowly. And then¡ªjust barely¡ªhe smiled. The officer felt a chill crawl up his spine. For the first time, it wasn¡¯t the sadness in Cain¡¯s eyes that unsettled him. It was the way he looked at him. Like he knew something. Something the rest of them didn¡¯t. Chp6 - The Messenger It was already 5 AM. Cain had drifted into sleep, looking like an angel in slumber. Kath walked by and saw him. She hesitated, then sighed. With a look of sympathy, she picked him up gently and carried him to her bureau, covering him with her jacket. She gave him a small pat on the head before sitting down at her desk, lost in thought. On the other side of the city, in a grand mansion, Jia lay awake in her bed. Her room was filled with everything a child could ever want¡ªplush toys, books, soft glowing lights¡ªbut none of it made her feel safe. She turned on her side, staring at the window. The city lights flickered in the distance, and the world outside felt quiet. Too quiet. Finally, exhaustion won, and her eyes fluttered shut. Sometime later, she woke to a faint noise. A whisper of movement outside. At first, she thought it was just the wind. But then she heard it again¡ªsomething faint, like footsteps on gravel. Her heart pounded as she sat up. She slid out of bed and crept toward the window, peeking through the curtains. The backyard was empty. The guards were still at their posts. Everything looked normal. Then her phone vibrated on the nightstand. A message from an unknown number. "You saw him, didn¡¯t you?" Jia¡¯s breath caught. A second message appeared. "He saw you too." Her hands trembled as she turned back to the window. The backyard was still empty. The guards were there. But something inside her screamed that she was being watched. Swallowing hard, she typed back. "Who is this?" A few seconds passed. Then¡ª "Go to sleep, Jia." A chill crawled up her spine. Her fingers hovered over the screen, but she didn¡¯t type another message. Instead, she backed away from the window, her pulse racing. Then she heard it. A soft thud outside. She turned, staring into the darkness beyond the fence. The security lights glowed, illuminating the yard. At first, there was nothing. Then¡ª A figure. Standing at the very edge of the light. Unmoving. Watching. Jia¡¯s blood turned to ice. She didn¡¯t think¡ªjust ran.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. She burst into her parents¡¯ room, heart hammering. She didn¡¯t even knock¡ªjust dove between them, shaking. Her mother stirred, groggy. ¡°Jia?¡± ¡°There was someone outside,¡± Jia whispered. Her father groaned. ¡°It¡¯s probably one of the guards.¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t.¡± Her mother sighed, rubbing her eyes. ¡°Sweetheart, are you sure you weren¡¯t dreaming?¡± Jia clenched her fists. The phone. The messages. No. She wasn¡¯t dreaming. But she didn¡¯t say anything else. Her mother pulled her close, stroking her hair. ¡°Go to sleep.¡± Jia closed her eyes, but it took hours before her mind finally let her rest. Outside, beyond the gates, the figure remained. Still. Silent. Watching. Back at the station. Kath sat at her desk, shifting uncomfortably. Cain was curled up in the chair across from her, her jacket draped over him. He slept peacefully, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. He looked so normal. Kath sighed, rubbing her temples. ¡°What are you, kid?¡± she muttered. Cain didn¡¯t answer. But outside the station, the rain poured harder. And somewhere in the city, a man whispered poetry to the sky. The next morning, the city awoke to chaos. A high-profile businessman was found dead in his home. The press swarmed. Officers scrambled. Emma and Alex were immediately dispatched to the scene. Another victim. Another mark. Another piece of the puzzle. Back at the station, as officers rushed around, the front doors burst open. A man staggered in, drenched from head to toe, rainwater dripping from his tattered clothes. His wild eyes darted around the room. His lips trembled. His breath came in ragged gasps. Samuel Gray. The junkie. He stood there, soaking the tiled floor, a hollow grin stretching across his face. Then, he threw his head back and laughed. A sound too high, too strained, too wrong. The entire station fell silent. Officers turned. Conversations halted. Then Samuel opened his mouth and screamed. A poem. loud and raw. spilled from his lips like a prophecy. "The angel has descended, and heaven is near.The chosen will rise, the unworthy will fear.The eye sees all, and judgment is done¡ªThe hollow shall fall, the worthy will run." Kath shot up from her chair, knocking over her coffee. Cain stirred but didn¡¯t wake. Officers moved, shouting orders. But Samuel Gray was faster. He reached into his pocket, and before anyone could stop him¡ª He slit his own throat. Blood sprayed across the floor. A few officers shouted. One rushed forward. But Samuel was already collapsing, his body crumpling onto the cold tile. A piece of paper fluttered from his grip. A single symbol. The eye. And behind him, unnoticed in the chaos, Cain finally opened his eyes... And smiled. Emma and Alex arrived back at the station just in time to see the blood being mopped from the floor. Samuel Gray¡¯s corpse had already been covered, but the horror lingered in the air like a thick fog. ¡°What the hell happened?¡± Alex demanded. Kath, pale and shaken, gestured to the paper on the evidence table. ¡°He walked in, started screaming poetry, and then¡ª¡± She swallowed hard. ¡°Just¡­ ended himself.¡± Emma snatched up the paper. The symbol burned into her mind. Another mark. Another death. She turned toward the glass window that looked into the holding area. Cain was still there, now sitting up, watching everything unfold. For a split second, she swore his lips twitched upward. Like he was amused. She turned back to Alex. ¡°We¡¯re not letting him go.¡± Alex didn¡¯t argue. They needed answers. And Cain was going to give them. One way or another. Meanwhile, at Jia''s house Jia hadn¡¯t told her parents about the messages. But she kept her phone close, fingers hovering over the screen. The unknown number hadn¡¯t texted again. No calls. No follow-ups. Maybe she imagined it. Maybe she wanted to imagine it. That morning, she peered outside her window, half-expecting to see someone still standing there. But the yard was empty. The security footage had nothing unusual, her father insisted. But she knew. She felt it. Something was coming. And for the first time in her life¡ª She didn¡¯t feel safe. Chp7 - A Hollow Gaze Interrogation Room - 9:44 AM Emma and Alex stepped carefully around the blood, their shoes making an unpleasant stick with every step. The station was filled with murmurs, officers whispering about the chaos that had unfolded. They found Cain sitting quietly on a bench, his legs swinging idly. His small hands rested on his lap, and his face remained unreadable, neither anxious nor afraid. Emma crouched slightly to his level. "Cain, we need to talk. Please come with us." Cain blinked up at her, his expression blank before he gave a small nod. Without protest, he hopped off the chair and followed them. Alex, however, kept his gaze locked on the boy. Something about him made his gut twist. not in a way he could explain, just... something. Before they could leave, Kath stepped in, placing a protective hand on Cain''s shoulder. "Excuse me," she said, her voice firm. "Is everything alright?" "Not now, Kath," Alex muttered. Kath frowned. "I''m just asking why you''re treating him like a suspect, that''s all." Her tone held an edge of accusation, and Alex clenched his jaw. But before he could snap back, Emma spoke first. "Kath, we''re not treating him like a suspect," she assured. "We just need to ask some questions." Kath hesitated before letting out a small sigh and stepping aside. Cain, silent throughout the exchange, watched them carefully-not like a frightened child, but as if he were trying to understand them. "Thank you," Emma murmured before leading Cain away. Interrogation Room As soon as the door shut, Alex slammed a paper onto the table. A drawing of an eye. Cain flinched slightly at the sudden movement, his wide eyes blinking in confusion. "Is that... an eye?" he asked hesitantly. Alex leaned in. "Tell me what you know about this." Cain furrowed his brow. "It''s... just an eye, right?" Alex scoffed. "Okay, smarta-" "Stop it, old man," Emma cut in, her voice sharp. "We''re not intimidating him. We''re trying to understand." Alex let out a long breath, rubbing his temple. This case was getting to him. He looked back at Cain. The kid looked so small in that chair, his feet barely touching the ground. But there was still something about him that didn''t sit right. Alex sighed. "I''m sorry, kid. I just don''t get it. Your mom had this symbol on a paper. A junkie had it too and killed himself, a famous business man. And now we find it in a 15-year-old case file the case of a missing boy who looked exactly like you." Cain''s mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but he hesitated. Slowly, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. His fingers tapped lightly against the table. "That... does sound strange," he admitted, his voice quiet. Emma watched him closely. "Cain... do you believe in angels?" Cain blinked. Something flickered in his expression just for a second. He smiled, but it was small, almost uncertain. "I think... a lot of people believe in angels." Alex narrowed his eyes. "That''s not an answer."Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Cain tilted his head slightly, thoughtful. "Maybe the real question is... do you?" A silence settled over the room. Emma studied him. Her gut told her that Cain wasn''t lying, but he wasn''t telling them everything either. Not in a manipulative way, but like a kid who was confused. Or maybe scared. Alex clenched his jaw. "Kid, this isn''t a game." Cain''s smile faltered. He looked down at his hands, hesitating. Then, in a soft voice- "It never was." A knock on the door made them all turn. Kath peeked her head in, her face tense. "Sorry to interrupt, but... we have a situation." Emma stood immediately. "What is it?" Kath stepped inside and handed her a crumpled photo. A piece of paper with hurried, shaky writing. "She wasn''t supposed to see." Emma felt her stomach drop. "Where was this found?" Kath hesitated. "On Jia''s nightstand." Alex''s heart pounded. "Where is she?" "She''s fine," Kath assured them. "But her father said she had trouble sleeping. She kept hearing noises outside her window." Emma exchanged a look with Alex. This wasn''t a coincidence. Cain stared at the paper, his fingers no longer tapping the table. His expression was unreadable. Cain swallowed. "I don''t think she was supposed to see... whatever it was." Alex straightened. "Do you know what she saw?" Cain shook his head quickly. "No. But..." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "If she saw something she shouldn''t have... maybe that means someone''s watching her." Emma felt a chill run down her spine. A tense silence filled the room. Emma and alex walked out leaving Cain on his own. Cain sat frozen in place, gripping the edge of the chair. His small fingers trembled. From the one-way mirror, his reflection stared back. And for the first time, Cain didn''t smile. Emma leaned on the now closed door and sighed Emma: we''re running in circles.. Alex: more like we''re led in circles. Alex ran a hand down his face, exhaustion seeping into his voice. "We''ve got too many loose ends. The eye symbol, the junkie, Cain''s mother, the missing boy from fifteen years ago, the business man, none of it adds up." Kath shifted uncomfortably. "And now Jia." Emma looked up. "Right. Someone left that message on her nightstand. ''She wasn''t supposed to see.''" She shook her head. "See what?" Alex''s jaw tightened. "And why her?" Kath hesitated. "Her father said she''s been struggling to sleep. She kept hearing noises outside her window." Emma and Alex exchanged a glance. That detail felt too deliberate. "Do we have security footage from her house?" Emma asked. Kath nodded. "Already requested." Alex exhaled. "Good. Let''s move." Emma glanced at the interrogation room one last time. Through the one-way glass, she could see Cain, still sitting calmly at the table. His hands were folded neatly, his face unreadable. For a kid who had lost his mother in a brutal murder, And had been pulled into a case tangled with symbols, death, and eerie coincidences. he looked unnervingly at peace. "Let''s go," Alex said, pulling her attention back. They walked off, leaving Cain alone in the room. Inside, Cain finally stopped tapping his fingers. He turned slightly toward the mirror, tilting his head as if sensing the eyes watching him from the other side. Then, for the first time since the interrogation began, his expression shifted. A faint, knowing expression. The drive to Jia''s mansion was tense. It was alreadymorning, the weight of the case pressing heavier with each passing second. When they arrived, her parents were already waiting, worry etched deep into their faces. "She hasn''t been herself," her father said. "She barely talks, she won''t eat... and last night, she-" He hesitated, looking at his wife. "She screamed in her sleep," Jia''s mother finished, her voice unsteady. "She wouldn''t wake up. When she finally did, she just kept repeating, ''I saw him. I saw him.''" Emma and Alex exchanged a glance before stepping inside. Jia sat curled up on the couch, her knees hugged to her chest, staring blankly at nothing. Emma crouched in front of her. "Jia, sweetheart, can you tell me what you saw?" Jia''s fingers clenched into the fabric of her pajama pants. "He was there," she whispered. "But he wasn''t." Alex frowned. "What do you mean?" Jia hesitated, then shook her head. "He was there. And then he wasn''t." A chill ran down Emma''s spine. "We need to check the security cameras." The family''s private security team had already gone over the footage multiple times but found nothing unusual. But Alex wasn''t satisfied. He played the footage over and over, frame by frame. And then- "There." The room fell silent. On the screen, in a single frame, just outside Jia''s window- A face. Grinning. The junkie. And then, in the very next frame- Gone. While Emma and Alex remained at Jia''s mansion, reviewing the eerie footage, the decision was made. The higher-ups ruled that they couldn''t keep Cain in custody any longer. With no formal charges against him, he was to be transferred to Elizabeth''s Jaunveil Center, a facility for unfortunate youth to keep him safe while at the same time under surveillance. The center was about an hour away from the station. But the real question was ¡¶Who''s protecting who?¡· As the officers escorted him out, Cain walked calmly, his hands in his pockets. Just as he stepped into the transport vehicle, he exhaled a quiet murmur-so soft that no one seemed to notice. "Took you long enough." The drive was silent. The officers didn''t speak much, occasionally glancing at the rearview mirror. Cain simply sat there, staring out the window, his expression unreadable. When they arrived at Elizabeth''s Jaunveil Center, the gates creaked open, revealing the looming facility. It wasn''t run-down, but there was something about it-something in the dim lighting, the eerily quiet halls-that made it feel... wrong. As soon as Cain stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The staff, dressed in their standard uniforms, paused what they were doing. Their eyes landed on him. Not in curiosity. Not in confusion. But as if they had been expecting him. Chp8 - A Missing Piece The sun was already in the middle of the sky by the time Emma and Alex arrived back at the station, both exhausted but unwilling to let the pieces of the case slip through their fingers. The moment they stepped inside, however, something felt... off. Alex¡¯s sharp eyes scanned the room. A quiet tension hung in the air. ¡°Where is he?¡± he demanded, his voice sharper than he intended. Kath hesitated before answering. ¡°He¡¯s gone.¡± Emma¡¯s stomach dropped. ¡°What?¡± Kath exhaled. ¡°They transferred him to Elizabeth¡¯s Juvenile Center early this morning. Orders from higher up.¡± For a moment, neither Emma nor Alex spoke. The decision had been made without them, without any warning. Alex clenched his jaw. ¡°So that¡¯s it? They just handed him over without even telling us?¡± Kath sighed. ¡°What could we do? No charges, no grounds to keep him here. They decided it was safer for everyone. And honestly¡­ the poor boy deserves to rest.¡± Emma¡¯s hands curled into fists. ¡°Safer for who?¡± The question hung in the air. No one had an answer. Alex looked down in frustration. "Our only solid clue is now gone." But Emma and Alex weren¡¯t ready to let this go. If they couldn¡¯t keep Cain here, then they had to go back¡ªto where it all started. Maybe the past held the answers they were missing. They exchanged a look. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Alex muttered. The drive to Cain¡¯s old home was eerily silent, the streets wet with last night¡¯s rain. When they pulled up, the apartment complex stood before them a crumbling skeleton of forgotten lives. The place had always been a dump, but now it felt suffocating, like it had been waiting for them to return. Emma and Alex stepped out, their shoes crunching against broken glass and old debris. The burned-out remains of Cain¡¯s apartment loomed above them, the charred walls blackened by a past no one wanted to remember. They started with the neighbors. A few doors down, an elderly man cracked his door open, eyeing them with suspicion. He was frail, his wrinkled hands trembling slightly, but there was something sharp in his gaze¡ªlike he knew exactly why they were here. Alex flashed his badge. ¡°We need to ask you about the night an accident and a murder happened here.¡± The old man didn¡¯t speak at first. He simply stared at them, his lips pursed in thought. Then, finally, he murmured, ¡°I remember that night.¡± Emma leaned in. ¡°What happened?¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. The man¡¯s eyes flickered with something unreadable. ¡°I heard shouting. His father¡ªhe was yelling. Screaming like a madman.¡± The air around them seemed to thicken. ¡°What was he saying?¡± Alex pressed. The old man exhaled shakily. His voice lowered as he recited the words, as if they had been burned into his memory. ¡°You monster¡­ what did you do?¡± The weight of those words settled over them like a heavy fog. Emma¡¯s pulse quickened. ¡°And then?¡± The man licked his dry lips. ¡°Then there was a crash. A scream. When I stepped out, I saw him. Cain¡¯s father, at the bottom of the stairs. His neck was bent wrong. Eyes wide open. Dead.¡± Alex followed the old man¡¯s gaze to the spot where the body had been. He remembered it perfectly, as clearly as his own name. Emma asked: ¡°How did he fall?¡± The old man hesitated, then, almost reluctantly, whispered, ¡°Marbles.¡± Alex knew that already since he himself almost fell on them. A shiver ran down Emma¡¯s spine. ¡°Marbles?¡± The man nodded. ¡°They were scattered all over the stairs. I don¡¯t know if they were left there or if he dropped them while running. But the moment his foot hit them... he was gone.¡± Emma and Alex exchanged a glance¡ªone filled with shame and realization. The case they had dismissed as "an unimportant accident" was, in reality, the most important clue they had. Emma swallowed. ¡°Do you remember anything else? Maybe... an angel?¡± The old man¡¯s face remained emotionless. ¡°Ah,¡± he said flatly. ¡°It¡¯s my nap time. Goodbye.¡± Alex caught the door before it could close. ¡°Please, just anything. Anything would be helpful.¡± Emma tried again, softer. ¡°Please, sir.¡± The old man glanced around nervously, checking left and right, then even inside his own apartment, as if making sure no one was listening. Finally, he sighed and stepped back. ¡°Come in.¡± Inside the Old Man¡¯s Apartment. The air was stale, thick with dust and the scent of aging furniture. The old man gestured for them to sit but remained standing himself. His gaze was distant, as if sifting through years of memories. ¡°Do you know something about an angel?¡± Alex prompted. The old man exhaled slowly. ¡°People around here used to talk... about strange things. Things they saw but never understood. Shadows moving when no one was there. Whispers in empty rooms.¡± Emma¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°And the missing boy? The one from fifteen years ago?¡± The old man¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Ah, yes. That boy... disappeared without a trace. Some say he was taken. Others say he simply vanished.¡± He looked at Alex, his voice dropping lower. ¡°But you want to know the part that no one talks about?¡± Alex leaned forward. ¡°Tell us.¡± The old man¡¯s eyes flickered with something unsettling. ¡°Cain¡¯s parents... they were wealthy once. Had everything. But then, suddenly, they lost it all. No one knows why. Some say to debt some say it was karma but no one knew for sure. They came here, to this place, to start over.¡± Emma nodded. ¡°Cain told us that during his interrogation.¡± But the old man wasn¡¯t finished. He stared at them for a long moment before speaking the words that sent ice through their veins. ¡°Cain¡¯s parents never had a child.¡± A cold silence filled the room. Emma¡¯s voice was barely above a whisper. ¡°What?¡± ¡°They were alone. For years. Then one day... they adopted a boy. Said they didn¡¯t want to grow old with an empty house.¡± The old man looked straight at Alex. ¡°When I first saw that kid, I thought he looked just like the missing boy.¡± Emma and Alex exchanged a horrified glance. ¡°Do you know where they adopted him from?¡± Alex asked urgently. The old man let out a humorless chuckle. ¡°Oh, yes i do know.¡± Emma¡¯s heart pounded. ¡°Where?¡± The old man¡¯s lips curled into something that wasn¡¯t quite a smile. ¡°Elizabeth¡¯s Juvenile Center.¡± The room seemed to shrink around them. Emma felt her breath hitch. ¡°Elizabeth¡¯s Juvenile Center¡­¡± Alex clenched his fists. ¡°That¡¯s where the higher-ups sent him.¡± They bolted for the door, adrenaline surging through their veins. Emma¡¯s voice was laced with realization and dread. ¡°We¡¯ve been played.¡± Alex gritted his teeth. ¡°By a damn sixteen-year-old.¡± As Emma and Alex rushed out, urgency in their every step, the old man remained standing in his doorway, watching them disappear from his sight. A sad, knowing expression settled on his face. He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "History does repeat itself," he murmured to no one in particular. "Sometimes our hearts blur our judgment, and we fail to see the truth right under our noses." Then, without another word, he closed the door. Chp9 - Shadow Of The Past Emma and Alex rushed through the gates of Elizabeth¡¯s Juvenile Center, their urgency barely contained as they stormed inside. The receptionist barely reacted. if anything, she seemed eerily calm, almost expectant. ¡°We need to see Cain,¡± Emma demanded, catching her breath. The receptionist¡¯s serene smile didn¡¯t waver. ¡°Of course. Follow me.¡± She led them through the quiet halls, the sound of distant laughter from children echoing in the background. As they approached the common area, Emma¡¯s heart pounded. And then¡ªthey saw him. Cain sat among a group of children, his small hands moving methodically across a sketchbook. His expression was peaceful, focused. And when he lifted his gaze and saw them, his lips curled into a knowing smile. Emma took a step forward, but before she could go any further, the receptionist gently raised a hand. ¡°You¡¯ll have to wait. The director would like to speak with you first.¡± Emma clenched her jaw. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for¡ª¡± ¡°You do,¡± the receptionist interrupted, her voice as smooth as ever. ¡°Please, this way.¡± Emma and Alex exchanged glances, frustration burning between them, but they had no choice. They let the receptionist lead them deeper into the facility. The director¡¯s office was dimly lit, the scent of old books and ink lingering in the air. The man behind the desk was older, his features sharp but softened by an unsettling warmth. He welcomed them with a smile, his eyes gleaming as if he had been waiting for this meeting. ¡°Detectives,¡± he greeted, his voice carrying an almost lyrical quality. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure.¡± Emma wasted no time. ¡°We need to see Cain¡¯s documents. He was adopted from here, right?¡± The director nodded, still smiling, as he slid a file across the desk. ¡°Of course.¡± Alex flipped it open, his eyes scanning the pages. Then his expression darkened. ¡°There¡¯s no birth certificate,¡± he muttered. ¡°No records before his adoption. Just a basic description.¡± Emma leaned over his shoulder, her pulse quickening. It was as if Cain had simply appeared one day, a blank slate with only the details that had been assigned to him. The director watched them with an almost amused expression. Then, as if the conversation had taken a poetic turn, he murmured, ¡°An angel passes through, unseen by most, but those who glimpse him know. he changes everything.¡± The words sent a chill through the air. Emma¡¯s hands tightened into fists. ¡°What does that mean?¡± she pressed. The director only smiled, his gaze flickering to a small, ornate symbol on his desk. a circle with a single eye at its center.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°We¡¯re done here,¡± Alex said abruptly, snapping the file shut. He grabbed Emma¡¯s arm and pulled her toward the door. As they left, Emma glanced back. The director was still smiling, his fingers tracing the edge of the symbol on his desk. Emma and Alex, shaken by the inconsistencies at the juvenile center, knew they had only one real source left, the old man. He had given them answers when no one else would. If anyone could shed light on what was happening, it was him. The drive back to the apartment complex felt heavier this time. The streets were quiet, eerily so, as if the city itself was holding its breath. When they reached the old man¡¯s door, Emma knocked. No answer. Alex tried. ¡°Sir? It¡¯s us.¡± Still nothing. A cold feeling crept up Emma¡¯s spine. She glanced at Alex, and without another word, he pushed the door open. The air inside was stale, thick with the coppery scent of blood. The old man was there¡ªlifeless, slumped in his chair. His head tilted unnaturally to the side, eyes wide open in a frozen expression of something between fear and understanding. But it was the wall behind him that stopped them in their tracks. Blood was smeared across it, forming a message. ¡°When you stare into the eye, do you ever wonder what it sees in you?¡± Emma took a step back, her breath caught in her throat. Alex clenched his fists, his pulse hammering. This wasn¡¯t just a warning. It was a taunt. A message left specifically for them. The room felt suffocating. The old man had known too much, and now he was gone. Emma¡¯s voice was barely a whisper. ¡°This isn¡¯t a case anymore, Alex.¡± He exhaled sharply, jaw tightening. ¡°No. This is a game.¡± One Week Later The days after the old man¡¯s murder were restless. Emma barely slept. Alex buried himself in paperwork, obsessing over details they might have missed. But the truth was¡ªthey had nothing. No leads, no suspects, just that damned message on the wall. "When you stare into the eye, do you ever wonder what it sees in you?" It haunted them. The old man had been their only real source of information, and now he was dead. Murdered. And they had been too late. A week passed before Emma finally said it. ¡°We need to find the investigator.¡± Alex looked up from the sketchbook the missing boy¡¯s mother had given them, his eyes tired but sharp. ¡°The one who worked the case 15 years ago?¡± Emma nodded. ¡°If this is all connected, he¡¯s the only one left who might know what the hell is going on.¡± Alex sighed, rubbing his temples. ¡°You really think he¡¯ll talk?¡± Emma closed her hands into fists. ¡°He will. He has to.¡± The man they were looking for was Walter Halloway, a former detective now rotting in retirement, barely clinging to sanity. His address was listed under a cheap house at the edge of town, the kind of place where people went to be forgotten. When they pulled up, the place was worse than expected¡ªovergrown weeds, rusted mailbox, curtains drawn tight. Emma knocked. Silence. She knocked again, harder this time. ¡°Mr. Halloway? We need to talk.¡± A shuffling sound came from inside. Then, slowly, the door creaked open just enough for a pair of tired, bloodshot eyes to meet theirs. Walter Halloway looked like a man half-dead. His skin was pale, his face sunken, and the smell of whiskey clung to him like a second skin. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here,¡± he muttered, voice hoarse. Alex held out his badge. ¡°We¡¯re here about the missing boy.¡± Walter¡¯s eyes flickered¡ªrecognition, maybe fear¡ªbut he said nothing. He started to shut the door. Emma pushed against it. ¡°You investigated his disappearance, didn¡¯t you? You got close. Close enough that someone wanted you to stop.¡± That made him pause. His grip on the doorframe tightened. ¡°Close enough to get my whole family slaughtered,¡± he whispered. Emma and Alex exchanged a look. Walter exhaled sharply, then stepped aside, letting them in. The house was a mess. Empty bottles stacked in corners, old case files scattered across the table. Newspaper clippings. The walls were lined with memories of a case long buried. They sat across from him, waiting. Finally, Walter spoke. ¡°Fifteen years ago, a boy vanished without a trace. No body, no ransom, no evidence. Just gone. I chased every lead, every whisper. And then, one day¡­ I got too close.¡± He swallowed, his fingers trembling as he reached for a photo¡ªan old crime scene picture. ¡°My wife. My son. Found in our home. Their throats slit.¡± Emma inhaled sharply. ¡°But that wasn¡¯t the worst part.¡± His voice cracked. ¡°Behind them, written in their blood, was a message.¡± He slowly turned the photo toward them. Emma¡¯s stomach dropped. Alex¡¯s hands clenched. The words on the wall were identical to the ones they had found behind the old man¡¯s corpse. "When you stare into the eye, do you ever wonder what it sees in you?" Silence suffocated the room. Walter wiped a shaking hand over his face. ¡°I dropped the case that night. Because I knew¡­ if I kept digging, my daughter was next.¡± Emma¡¯s breath was shallow. ¡°Your daughter¡­ she survived?¡± Walter nodded. ¡°She was at a friend¡¯s house that night. That¡¯s the only reason she¡¯s still alive.¡± Alex leaned forward. ¡°And you never told anyone?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t need to,¡± Walter said darkly. ¡°They made their message clear. I let it go. I let it all go.¡± Emma clenched her fists. ¡°But it didn¡¯t stop. The old man who gave us information¡ªhe¡¯s dead now. And the message was written on his wall, just like yours.¡± Walter¡¯s eyes darkened. ¡°Then it¡¯s happening again.¡± Alex, struggling to steady his voice, asked the only question that mattered: ¡°What the hell is The Eye?¡± Walter exhaled slowly, then met their gaze with something between resignation and terror. ¡°It¡¯s not watching you,¡± he said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s watching for you.¡± Chp10 - A Plea Emma swallowed. ¡°What does that even mean?¡± Halloway rubbed his face, looking exhausted, haunted. ¡°I spent years trying to figure that out. The deeper I dug, the more I realized¡ªthis isn¡¯t just about one missing boy. It¡¯s bigger. Older. Like a pattern repeating itself.¡± Alex leaned forward. ¡°You think this has happened before?¡± Halloway gave a hollow laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t think. I know.¡± He motioned toward the piles of old newspapers and documents scattered across the table. ¡°Disappearances. Deaths. Every few years, someone vanishes, and someone else dies trying to find them. And every time¡­ that message appears.¡± Emma¡¯s fingers tightened around the armrest. ¡°Why? What does it mean?¡± Halloway hesitated. His eyes flicked toward the doorway, as if expecting someone¡ªor something¡ªto be listening. Then, in a low voice, he murmured, ¡°I think it¡¯s a warning. A reminder. The Eye isn¡¯t just looking for something. It¡¯s waiting for something.¡± Silence settled over the room like a weight. Then Alex shifted, reaching into his jacket pocket. ¡°The missing boy¡¯s mother gave us something. A list of names.¡± He unfolded the old paper, smoothing it out on the table. ¡°People who died. People connected to this.¡± Halloway barely glanced at it¡ªuntil his eyes landed on one name. His breath hitched. His fingers trembled as he traced the faded ink. And then, he froze. Emma noticed the shift instantly. ¡°What? What is it?¡± Halloway didn¡¯t answer. He just kept staring, his knuckles white, his entire body suddenly rigid. Alex leaned over, reading where his eyes were locked. His heart nearly stopped. There, among the dead, was a name that shouldn¡¯t have been there. Halloway¡¯s daughter. Still alive. The room turned suffocatingly silent. Halloway¡¯s lips barely moved, but when he spoke, his voice was hollow, almost pleading. ¡°Where did you get this?¡± Emma and Alex exchanged glances. Alex swallowed hard. ¡°As i said. His mother gave it to us.¡± Halloway shook his head slowly, disbelieving. His breathing grew unsteady. ¡°No. No, that¡¯s not possible.¡± Emma¡¯s chest tightened. ¡°Halloway, what does this mean?¡± But he didn¡¯t answer. He just sat there, staring at his daughter¡¯s name on a list of the dead. And for the first time since they met him Walter Halloway looked truly afraid. The silence stretched unbearably. Halloway¡¯s hand remained frozen over his daughter¡¯s name, his breathing shallow. Emma couldn¡¯t take it anymore. ¡°Walter, talk to us. Why is she on this list?¡± His voice, when it finally came, was barely above a whisper. ¡°If it''s true then.. She shouldn¡¯t be.¡± Alex¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°But she is.¡± Halloway pulled back from the paper as if it burned him. He rubbed his temples, muttering to himself. ¡°No, no, no¡­ this isn¡¯t right.¡± Emma pressed forward. ¡°Halloway, listen. She¡¯s alive, isn¡¯t she? We need to know what this means.¡± He looked up at them, and for a moment, there was something unspoken in his eyes¡ªsomething fragile. But then, just as quickly, his expression hardened. He shoved the paper away. ¡°You don¡¯t get it. If she¡¯s on that list¡­ she¡¯s already dead.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Emma¡¯s stomach twisted. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any damn sense.¡± Halloway stood abruptly, running a hand through his graying hair. ¡°Nothing about this case has ever made sense. But this? This is different.¡± He pointed at the paper. ¡°I know some of the victims. I worked on their cases years ago, every name on that list¡­ they weren¡¯t just victims. They were erased.¡± Alex frowned. ¡°Erased?¡± Halloway paced, his mind racing ahead of his words. ¡°The ones who died, the ones whose names are here¡ªthey weren¡¯t just killed. Their deaths meant something. They were related of whatever the hell this Eye is.¡± Emma gritted her teeth. ¡°And your daughter? She survived. She¡¯s still out there, living her life. How can you say she¡¯s dead?¡± Halloway turned to her, eyes filled with something raw. ¡°Because I walked away. Because I stopped looking. I thought if I let it go, she¡¯d be safe. But if her name¡¯s on that list¡­¡± He swallowed hard. ¡°It means she was never safe to begin with.¡± A cold realization settled in the pit of Emma¡¯s stomach. Alex shifted, his fingers tightening into a fist. ¡°You said these disappearances were a pattern. What happens next?¡± Halloway exhaled, his shoulders slumping. ¡°Someone else disappears.¡± Emma¡¯s breath caught. ¡°Who?¡± Halloway stared down at the paper, his fingers brushing over the faded ink. His voice, when it came, was barely audible. ¡°Whoever is next.¡± A heavy silence fell over the room. Then¡ªa knock at the door. Sharp. Precise. All three of them stiffened. Halloway turned toward the sound, his face drained of color. His body moved on instinct¡ªslow, cautious¡ªas he reached for the small drawer near the table. The click of a gun being loaded broke the tension like a gunshot. Alex and Emma exchanged uneasy glances. The knock came again. This time, louder. Emma¡¯s pulse pounded in her ears. Who the hell else knew they were here? Halloway took a breath, then moved toward the door. He hesitated for half a second¡ªthen yanked it open. But there was no one there. Just the cold, empty night. And at his feet, lying on the doorstep¡ª A single sheet of paper. Emma stepped forward, dread curling in her gut as Halloway bent to pick it up. The second he saw it, his breath hitched. His fingers clenched around the edges. Emma and Alex peered over his shoulder. It was another list of names. And at the very bottom¡ª Alex Carter. Emma Lane. Jia sun. The ink was still wet. They froze in place. Whoever¡ªor whatever¡ªwas behind this was coming for them. Emma¡¯s throat went dry. "What is happening.." Before anyone could answer, Alex flipped the paper over. There, scrawled in the same wet ink, was a chilling message: "Those who chase after an angel shall die in agony." Halloway snatched the paper from Alex¡¯s hands, his face pale. Without a word, he rushed to the cluttered desk in the corner, throwing aside empty bottles and old case files. His hands trembled as he pulled out a worn piece of paper¡ªhis daughter¡¯s phone number, smudged and faded from years of neglect. He dialed. The line rang once. Twice. Then, a sharp, bitter voice cut through. "What do you want?" Halloway¡¯s breath hitched. ¡°It¡¯s me. I¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, now you care?¡± His daughter¡¯s voice dripped with venom. ¡°Years, Walter. Years. You ignored my calls, ignored my letters. And now you suddenly decide to remember I exist?¡± ¡°Please,¡± he rasped. ¡°Just listen¡ª¡± ¡°No. You had your chance. You didn¡¯t even show up when my son was born. So screw you.¡± The line went dead. Halloway stared at the phone in his hand. His shoulders started shaking, and then, without warning, he let out a strangled cry. He threw the phone across the room, his entire body collapsing into grief. "Why is this happening to me?" His voice cracked. ¡°I stopped. I fucking stopped. Why didn¡¯t you take me instead? I¡¯m the one who was digging¡ªwhy come after my family? JUST WHY, YOU PIECE OF SHIT?!" His fists pounded the table, sending files scattering to the floor. For the first time, Walter Halloway looked truly broken. Emma and Alex exchanged a tense glance. Then Emma stepped forward, her voice firm. ¡°Walter, now is not the time to grieve.¡± Alex nodded. "We''ve been targeted. If we don¡¯t find whoever¡ªor whatever¡ªleft that paper, they¡¯ll find us first.¡± Halloway took a shuddering breath, then wiped at his face, forcing himself to steady. ¡°We need to move.¡± Halloway made his choice. He had to go to his daughter. Even if she hated him, even if she never wanted to see him again¡ªhe had to make sure she was safe. The drive felt like an eternity. When he finally arrived, he stayed in his car, watching through the window of her small house. Inside, she was laughing, playing with her son. Halloway gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. They looked happy. Safe. He shouldn¡¯t ruin that. But if the list was right¡­ they were already in danger. Swallowing his fear, he stepped out of the car. His daughter saw him the moment he set foot on her driveway. Her face immediately twisted in anger. She turned to her son, whispered something, then sent the boy upstairs. And then she stormed toward him. "What the hell do you want?" Halloway opened his mouth, but she didn¡¯t let him speak. ¡°You don¡¯t get to show up after all these years and act like you give a damn!¡± Her voice was sharp, laced with years of resentment. ¡°You abandoned us! You let Mom die thinking you didn¡¯t care, and now you think you can just waltz in here?¡± Halloway clenched his jaw. "I just need to¡ª¡± ¡°No.¡± She took a step back. ¡°Whatever this is, whatever guilt suddenly made you show up? I don¡¯t want it.¡± She turned on her heel and walked back toward the house. Halloway took a deep breath. ¡°Please. Just be careful.¡± She paused for half a second. But she didn¡¯t turn around. Then, she disappeared inside. And Walter Halloway was left standing alone. Meanwhile, Emma and Alex were already on their next lead. Kath had called them¡ªfrantic. She had found something in the old man¡¯s house. By the time they arrived, Kath was pacing the small, cluttered living room, clutching an old leather-bound book. ¡°This was hidden behind a loose panel in the wall,¡± she said, shoving it into Emma¡¯s hands. ¡°It¡¯s old, Emma. I mean, centuries old.¡± Emma ran her fingers over the worn cover. The title was nearly faded, but she could just make out the words: "The Fallen Angel." Her pulse quickened. She flipped the first few pages, her eyes scanning the aged text. And then¡ªthere it was. The Eye. Not just the same symbol they had seen before, but a different version of it. This time, it was crying. Emma¡¯s breath hitched. She turned another page, her heart nearly stopped. Written in the old ink, in the same eerie phrasing as the blood-scrawled messages, was another passage: "Those who seek Heaven must open their hearts and shut their eyes." A chill ran down Emma¡¯s spine. Cain¡¯s mother. The words hit her like a brick. She had written something before she died, a note that said, "Today, I will descend to Heaven." And her gouged out eyes.. It made sense now. This book. This ancient book. But one question loomed in her mind. ¡°Why was this in the old man¡¯s house?¡± Alex shook his head. ¡°If he knew about it, why didn¡¯t he mention it before?¡± Emma turned to the final page. Her fingers trembled as she read the last passage: "Did you find the Eye? "Or did the Eye find you?" She exhaled sharply, her mind racing. ¡°This book. This Eye. It¡¯s all connected.¡± She looked up at Alex, determination burning in her eyes. ¡°We need to figure out how.¡± And fast. Because if they didn¡¯t¡ª They might be the next names on the list. Chp11 - Hell Erupted In Elizabeth¡¯s Juvenile Center. The garden was quiet. Manicured hedges framed the stone pathway, and small lanterns flickered in the dimming light of dusk. This part of the juvenile center was well-maintained¡ªuntouched by the usual neglect that plagued such institutions. A place of care, of reverence. Cain sat on a bench near the fountain, posture relaxed, gaze distant. He had not asked to be here, but then again, he had not needed to. Footsteps approached¡ªsteady, deliberate. The director. ¡°Cain,¡± the man greeted warmly, standing a respectful distance away. ¡°I trust you¡¯re settling in well?¡± Cain did not respond immediately. He turned his head slightly, acknowledging the man¡¯s presence but offering nothing in return. The director continued, undeterred. ¡°We¡¯re honored to have you with us. I hope you feel the same.¡± A quiet moment passed. Then, Cain let out a breath¡ªsomething like amusement, though his expression remained unreadable. He leaned back against the bench, his fingers lightly drumming against the wooden armrest. The director sat beside him, hands clasped in his lap. ¡°This place,¡± he said, glancing at the perfectly pruned roses, ¡°was meant to be a sanctuary. A place where the lost can find their path again.¡± He smiled, as if speaking to someone far above them rather than to Cain himself. ¡°But I suppose some never lose their way to begin with.¡± Cain¡¯s eyes flickered toward him, unreadable. The director turned his gaze upward, watching the sky shift to deep indigo. ¡°Life and death,¡± he mused. ¡°People speak of them as opposites, but they are merely two sides of the same coin. One feeding into the other. An endless cycle.¡± Cain moved then, shifting slightly¡ªa small adjustment, but precise, intentional. When he spoke, his voice was calm, smooth. ¡°That is where you¡¯re wrong.¡± The director¡¯s breath hitched. Cain continued, his words methodical, deliberate. ¡°Life and death are not a cycle. That is the comfort of those who need to believe in meaning.¡± His gaze swept over the garden¡ªthe carefully maintained beauty, the illusion of order. ¡°There is no cycle. Only permanence. Some exist. Some cease. The rest is human sentiment.¡± The director studied him, captivated. ¡°And you?¡± His voice was almost reverent. ¡°What do you believe yourself to be?¡± Cain didn¡¯t answer. He didn¡¯t need to. The director exhaled, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. ¡°I see,¡± he murmured. ¡°Then you truly are¡­¡± He trailed off, lowering his head slightly, almost as if bowing. Cain glanced away, disinterested, as though the conversation had already lost its worth. His fingers tapped once more against the wooden bench¡ªa silent rhythm. The director straightened, his expression returning to careful composure. ¡°The others do not understand,¡± he admitted. ¡°They cannot.¡± His voice lowered, just above a whisper. ¡°But I do.¡± Cain stood. The movement was fluid, effortless. He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, then turned toward the path leading back into the building. The director didn¡¯t move¡ªjust watched, his gaze following Cain like a man watching something divine pass him by. As Cain walked away, the fountain behind him rippled, the water shifting with the wind. The director remained seated in the garden, exhaling softly, almost in awe. Cain did not look back. Because why would he? Back to Emma and Alex The old book lay open between them, its brittle pages curling at the edges. The dim office lamp cast long shadows over the words, the ink faded but still legible. Emma ran her fingertips over the Eye symbol again. "This version¡­ it''s different." Alex frowned, tracing the passage beneath it. Those who seek Heaven must open their hearts and shut their eyes. He exhaled. "It sounds like some religious nonsense." Kath, who had been pacing near the window, scoffed. "Religious nonsense doesn''t get people murdered." She turned to face them, arms crossed. "Someone went out of their way to hide this book. The question is¡ªwhy?" Emma turned another page, her pulse quickening as she skimmed the text. "The Fallen Angel... it''s a maintained version." Alex¡¯s brows furrowed. "Maintained? You mean rewritten?" "More like altered," Emma murmured, eyes narrowing. "Look at this." She pointed to a passage halfway down the page. "The Eye is not a symbol of judgment but of restraint. It does not watch you¡ªit watches for you."This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Alex stiffened. Those were the same words the director had used back at the juvenile center. A cold unease settled over the room. Kath pulled out her phone, scrolling rapidly. "We need to cross-check this book with anything we can find. Old records, historical references, anything." ...... Emma exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. "But why Jia? I don¡¯t get it. Me, Alex, and Mr. Halloway are tied to the cases, to whatever this Eye or Angel is. But Jia?" Alex had been tapping his fingers against the motel table, deep in thought. He stopped. "First, it was the junkie outside her house, and now she''s a target? There¡¯s a missing piece somewhere. Maybe we¡¯re looking in the wrong place." He hesitated. "And Cain..." Kath, standing by the window, clenched her arms around herself. The mention of the boy stirred something uncomfortable in her. She didn¡¯t know if Cain was a victim or the center of it all¡ªbut God, she wanted to believe he was just an innocent kid. Alex caught the look on her face. His voice was sharp. "There¡¯s no room for emotions, Kath. People are dying." Kath bit her lip, looking down in a mix of shame and determination. She nodded. Emma''s voice was steady. "It¡¯s Cain. He¡¯s the only connection between Jia and the Eye. He¡¯s too important to be left alone." She hesitated. "Or maybe¡­ he¡¯s too dangerous." "Why don¡¯t we just rush in and get him from the center?" Alex shook his head. "We can¡¯t. We have no proof. The higher-ups will get in trouble. The press will tear them apart. If we screw this up, they might take the case away from us entirely." But then¡ª Their answer came to them. A call. They were two of Alex''s most trusted men who were placed to watch Cain. Alex picked up instantly. "What is it? Something wrong?" His gut twisted, hoping for a no. The officer on the other end sounded shaken. "He¡ªhe¡¯s gone." Alex¡¯s fingers tightened around the phone. "Gone? How? Elaborate." The officer hesitated. "We were watching him. He was talking to that creepy director in the garden. Then¡­ he looked in our direction. I don¡¯t know how he saw us from that far, but¡­ he knew we were there. As if he expected us to be there." The officer took a sharp breath. "Then he smiled. Like he was waiting for us to realize something. Like¡ªhe was confirming something for himself." A silence stretched between them. The room felt like it was shrinking. Who is this boy? Why does a fog of mystery follow him wherever he goes? Was he the Angel? The Eye? Or were they all just being played? Again. They had learned the hard way that nothing in this case was what it seemed. A victim could be an attacker. An attacker could be a victim. The unimportant could be crucial. The crucial could be a distraction. The puzzle couldn¡¯t just be solved by collecting pieces. It had to make sense. It had to follow a pattern. A shape. A logic. But as Halloway had once said: "Nothing has ever made sense about this case." A puzzle that refused to follow logic would remain an unsolvable mystery. Alex made a decision. "Kath, place more men at Jia¡¯s house. Tell them to be on high alert." His jaw tightened. "And we need to figure out what the hell this book really is." Then he turned to Emma. "Let¡¯s go." His voice was cold. "We¡¯re going to that center again. And this time¡ªI¡¯ll make that director talk. Whether he likes it or not." The juvenile center was unusually quiet. Too quiet. Emma and Alex moved through the hallways, every step feeling heavier than the last. The staff barely reacted to their presence. Some cast wary glances, others avoided them entirely. They reached the director¡¯s office. He was waiting. Sitting behind his desk, hands folded, that same knowing smile on his face. As if he had been expecting them. "Detectives." His voice was smooth, almost amused. "I assume you¡¯re here for answers?" Alex didn¡¯t waste time. He pulled out his gun and placed it on the desk. A warning. "Where is he?" The director tilted his head. "Who?" "Cain." Emma¡¯s voice was sharp. "He¡¯s missing. We know you had something to do with it." The director exhaled slowly, almost disappointed. "Still asking the wrong questions." Alex¡¯s patience snapped. He grabbed the front of the director¡¯s shirt, yanking him forward. "I don¡¯t give a damn about your riddles. Start talking, or I¡¯ll make sure you never¡ª" "Alex." Emma¡¯s voice was a warning. The director didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, he chuckled. A quiet, unsettling sound. "You misunderstand me, detective," he murmured. "I have no reason to hide the truth from you." Alex let go but stayed close, watching him with cold eyes. The director adjusted his tie, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "The puzzle has left." Silence. Emma exchanged a glance with Alex. "What the hell does that mean?" The director smiled. "Cain. You think he is just a boy, don¡¯t you? That he is merely another victim?" Emma¡¯s stomach twisted. "Isn¡¯t he?" The director¡¯s gaze was unreadable. "That depends. Do you believe in fate, Detective Lane?" "Don¡¯t play with words." Alex¡¯s fingers twitched toward his gun again. "I¡¯m not." The director leaned back. "You¡¯re trying to fit Cain into your story, but he isn¡¯t part of your puzzle. He is the puzzle. You think you¡¯re investigating a mystery surrounding him, but the truth is¡ªyou are caught in his wake. You were always meant to be here. The Eye... The Angel... These are not symbols. They are not myths. They are¡ªwatching. Waiting. Choosing." Emma felt a chill crawl down her spine. "Choosing what?" The director¡¯s eyes gleamed. "The ones who will survive." The words hung in the air. Alex¡¯s patience was razor-thin. "Enough of this cryptic shit. Where is Cain?" The director exhaled. "Gone. But don¡¯t worry. He¡¯ll find you when it¡¯s time." Alex¡¯s grip tightened on his gun. Emma placed a hand on his wrist. A silent reminder to stay in control. Before Alex could speak¡ª The door opened. They turned¡ª And there she was. The receptionist. A calm, eerie expression. A gun in her hands. An AK-47. Then¡ª Gunfire. The director¡¯s smile didn¡¯t waver as bullets tore through him. His body jerked, blood splattering against the walls, but even as he collapsed¡ªhe was smiling. Emma and Alex dove for cover as the receptionist turned the rifle toward them. "Shit!" Alex hissed, pulling out his gun. His ears rang. Emma steadied herself, breathing hard. Alex fired first. The bullet hit. She staggered. Then¡ªanother. Right to the chest. She crumpled. Dead. Silence. Their breaths were heavy. The office was wrecked. The director was gone. They rushed out. And then¡ª A sound. A beep. They turned. And there he was. A little boy. Standing in the hallway. Small. Frail. An orphan. He smiled. "It said I''ll descend to heaven where my parents are", he said. Then¡ª Tic. Tic. Tic. Alex¡¯s stomach dropped. His voice was raw. "RUUUUUUN!" Then¡ª Boom. The explosion consumed everything. Chp12 - Fog Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound was distant at first, muffled, as if coming from underwater. Emma felt herself surface from the haze, pain rushing in all at once. Her body ached. Her head throbbed. The taste of dust and blood clung to her tongue. She forced her eyes open. Everything was blurry¡ªshattered glass, broken wood, the distant flicker of a failing light. The world swayed as she tried to move. Her hands pressed against the cold, debris-covered floor, pushing herself up with effort. Her breath was ragged. Every muscle in her body protested, but she ignored the pain. Then, a thought cut through the fog in her mind. Alex. She turned, her heart hammering. "Alex?" Her voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. No response. She tried again, her voice louder this time, panic creeping in. "Alex!" Still nothing. Her eyes scanned the wreckage, and then she saw him. A few feet away, half-buried under broken furniture and shattered concrete, Alex lay motionless. Blood seeped through his clothes, pooling beneath him. His face was too pale. Emma''s breath hitched. She crawled toward him, ignoring the sharp sting of glass cutting into her hands and knees. "Alex," she pleaded, shaking him weakly. "Come on, say something." A faint groan. Relief flooded her, but it was short-lived. His injuries were bad. Too bad. He needed help now. Before she could react, footsteps pounded against the ruined floor. Two officers burst into the scene¡ªthe same ones Alex had secretly stationed at the center to watch Cain. Their expressions hardened when they saw Alex¡¯s condition.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. One of them crouched down, checking his pulse. "He''s alive, but barely. We need to move him now." The other officer grabbed Emma by the arm, helping her up. "Come on, we have to get out of here before more backup arrives. This whole damn place is a death trap." Emma could barely stand, her legs shaking beneath her. But she nodded. They hauled Alex up as carefully as they could and carried him outside. A car was already waiting, engine running. They drove fast¡ªreckless, but there was no time for caution. Halfway through, they spotted an ambulance and forced it to stop. The paramedics barely had time to react before Alex was transferred onto a stretcher and rushed inside. Emma climbed in after him, her vision swimming. The paramedics were shouting things¡ªblood loss, internal damage, stabilizing vitals¡ªbut the words barely registered. She just sat there, gripping Alex¡¯s hand, watching the machines beep and flicker. He was alive. But for how long? She didn¡¯t know how much time passed after that. At some point, they arrived at the hospital. The fluorescent lights were too bright, the smell of antiseptic too strong. Doctors rushed Alex away. Emma was left standing there, dazed, covered in dust and blood that wasn¡¯t even hers. She sat in the waiting area for what felt like hours, unmoving, numb. People passed by¡ªnurses, officers, strangers¡ªbut she barely noticed them. At some point, she realized she was crying. Silent, exhausted tears. Eventually, she needed air. She stumbled outside, the cold night air hitting her like a slap. And that¡¯s when she saw it. Written on the back window of a police car, traced into the layer of dust¡ª LUCKYYYY. Her blood ran cold. She stared at the word, her pulse pounding in her ears. Lucky. Like Alex surviving when he shouldn¡¯t have. Lucky. Like she was the only other one to make it out alive. Lucky. Like someone was watching. And laughing. A shiver crawled up her spine. She looked around, scanning the dark parking lot. But there was no one there. At least, no one she could see... ... ... ... A sound of steps was heard at the juvenile center. The air was thick with the stench of smoke and blood. The building, now a ruin of collapsed walls and shattered glass, stood eerily silent. The chaos had long since settled, leaving only the dead and the echoes of what had transpired. Through the destruction, a figure moved. Unhurried. Unbothered. The flickering emergency lights cast long shadows as he stepped over debris, past lifeless bodies, and through the scorched remains of what was once a hallway. He stopped where the explosion had left nothing but blackened walls and blood splattered across the floor. The spot where the boy had stood¡ªthe boy who had smiled, the boy who had counted down. Tic. Tic. Tic. The figure crouched, running his fingers across the charred ground as if searching for something. Or perhaps acknowledging what remained. Then, he whispered. "You did well." No one was there to hear it. No one was there to respond. And yet, it felt as if the words did not go unheard. With that, the figure rose, dusted off his coat, and disappeared into the smoke¡ªleaving nothing but the ruins behind him. Chp13 - Realization Jia¡¯s world had shrunk to the size of her room. Days passed in a blur of dim light, unread messages, and the taste of stale air. She barely moved. Barely ate. The curtains stayed shut, trapping her in the same hollow silence that pressed against her skull. Even her own thoughts felt foreign¡ªdisjointed, slipping through her grasp like water. Outside her door, her parents whispered, their voices thick with exhaustion. "We need to do something." "She won¡¯t even look at us." "Maybe she just needs time." Time wasn¡¯t the issue. Jia¡¯s stomach churned, but not from hunger. The memory gnawed at her¡ªthe sickening crack of bone, the splatter of blood on pavement. The twisted corpse of a man who would never drink again. But most of all¡ª You saw him. Not Cain. Him. Jia sat up, her pulse hammering. She had been so fixated on Cain¡¯s smile, so haunted by his expression, that she had ignored something far more important. There was someone else there that night. A shadow standing just beyond the chaos. Unmoving. Unbothered. Watching the whole thing unfold as if he already knew about it. Her breath hitched. The realization slithered down her spine, cold and sharp. How had she not seen it before? Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone. She needed to¡ª A knock at the door. She flinched.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Jia, sweetheart?¡± Her mother¡¯s voice was thick with emotion. ¡°Please¡­ just eat something. You don¡¯t have to talk. Just¡ªjust open the door.¡± Jia stared at the handle. A long silence. Then, slowly¡ªclick. --- Holloway¡¯s Vigil Holloway was wasting away in the front seat of his car. The streetlights buzzed faintly above, casting his world in a dull, flickering glow. Empty coffee cups piled in the passenger seat. The air inside smelled of sweat and stale exhaustion. Through the windshield, he could see her. His daughter. She was curled up on the couch, phone in hand, laughing softly at something on the screen. Safe. Untouched by the horrors that had ripped his life apart. Holloway exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. Every night, he told himself this would be the last time. That he would go home. That he would try to sleep in a real bed, try to forget. But he knew better. Some shadows never left. And sooner or later¡­ they always came back. His phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, expecting another useless update from his old contacts. Emma. His stomach twisted. He picked up. ¡°Emma?¡± A pause. Not her. Kath¡¯s voice, raw and shaken. ¡°Mr. Holloway¡­ it¡¯s Alex.¡± Holloway sat up straight. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°He¡ªhe¡¯s been hurt. Badly.¡± Kath¡¯s voice cracked. ¡°He tried to protect Emma, and now he¡¯s in critical condition. She¡¯s not handling it well. She won¡¯t stop crying. She won¡¯t leave his side.¡± A shaky breath. ¡°We don¡¯t know what to do.¡± For a long moment, Holloway said nothing. His grip tightened around the wheel, knuckles turning white. Then¡ªhe glanced back at his daughter. Still smiling. Still safe. Still oblivious to the monsters just outside her door. For years, he had kept his distance. Had told himself that getting involved again would only bring more pain. But now¡ª He closed his eyes. Exhaled. ¡°I¡¯m on my way.¡± Holloway found Kath just outside the hospital room. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed and hollow. The moment she saw him, her shoulders sagged with something between relief and exhaustion. ¡°Where are they?¡± he asked, his voice gruff. Kath said nothing, just turned and led him down the hall. The fluorescent lights hummed, casting sickly shadows over the sterile white walls. The air smelled of antiseptic, but underneath that¡ªblood. The remnants of something violent. When they reached the door, Kath hesitated. ¡°She¡ªshe¡¯s not okay,¡± she whispered. Holloway pushed it open. Inside, Emma sat hunched over the hospital bed. Her fingers clutched at Alex¡¯s unmoving hand, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He was pale, wires and IV lines tethering him to the machines that kept him alive. The sight of it twisted something deep in Holloway¡¯s gut. Emma barely reacted to his presence at first, only tightening her grip on Alex¡¯s hand. But then, without looking at him, she whispered¡ª "Children." Her voice was raw. Shattered. Then she turned to him, eyes brimming with tears, face streaked with anguish. "They use children, Mr. Holloway." Her breath hitched, her fingers digging into Alex¡¯s sheets. "How could they?" Holloway didn¡¯t answer. Because he already knew. He knew the depths of human depravity. He knew what desperation could drive people to do. He had seen it before¡ªcases where children weren¡¯t victims, but weapons. Where innocence was twisted into something monstrous. And now Emma had seen it too. For the first time, he saw something different in her. A crack in the armor. She wasn¡¯t just an officer anymore. She wasn¡¯t just chasing a case. This had changed her. She met his gaze, searching¡ªdesperate for something. An answer. A reason. Anything. But Holloway had none to give. He exhaled, stepping closer. Rested a firm hand on her shoulder. "We find the ones responsible," he said. "And we make them pay." Emma swallowed, her fingers still trembling. But she nodded. She wasn¡¯t just crying anymore. She was angry. And Holloway knew that kind of anger. It burned. It didn¡¯t fade. It only led one place. Vengeance. Chp14 - The gatekeepers secret The hospital air was thick with antiseptic and grief. Holloway stood by the doorway, arms crossed, watching Emma. She sat beside Alex¡¯s bed, gripping his hand as he lay unconscious, his face pale against the white sheets. Machines beeped in a steady rhythm, a cruel reminder that he was still fighting. Kath stood nearby, shifting uneasily. The weight of everything¡ªthe blood, the bodies, the terror on Emma¡¯s face, it clung to them like a second skin. Emma¡¯s shoulders shook. ¡°Children, Mr. Holloway.¡± Her voice was raw, broken. ¡°They use children. How could they?¡± Holloway didn¡¯t answer right away. He looked at Alex, the bruises, the bandages, the way Emma¡¯s fingers trembled against his. He had seen too many people break under the weight of this kind of horror. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s why we don¡¯t stop.¡± Emma exhaled sharply, wiping her face. She turned to him, eyes red but filled with something else now¡ªdetermination. ¡°Then we need to move. Now.¡± Holloway nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± --- The car ride to Holloway¡¯s place was silent, tension hanging between them like a storm ready to break. Kath sat in the back, clutching her laptop while Emma stared out the window, lost in thought. By the time they reached his office, the sky had turned a dull gray, the sun barely peeking through. Inside, the air smelled of old paper and dust, as if time had stopped here long ago. Holloway pulled a thick, beaten-up folder from a drawer and slid it onto the desk. ¡°The boy disappeared without a trace,¡± he said, voice steady. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean there¡¯s no chance of finding him.¡± Emma flipped through the case notes, her fingers brushing over the boy¡¯s picture. The eyes staring back at her felt eerily familiar. ¡°He went to a school not far from that shitty apartment complex,¡± Holloway continued. ¡°When I went there to investigate, I searched his seat. All I found was this.¡± He pulled out an old slip of paper, the edges yellowed with age. Inside a plastic evidence bag, faded ink formed a chilling message:Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. "The promised land is far, and the gate to it is guarded by a man holding a spear." Emma¡¯s breath hitched. She knew these words. She reached into her bag, fingers trembling slightly as she pulled out the book. Fallen Angel. Flipping frantically, she stopped at page 35. An ancient illustration stared back at them. A solemn figure stood before a towering gate, spear in hand. Holloway¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°This isn¡¯t a coincidence.¡± Emma turned to Kath, the urgency sharp in her voice. ¡°Find out where this comes from.¡± Kath had already pulled out her laptop. ¡°Give me a few minutes.¡± The room was thick with silence, only broken by the clicking of keys. Then¡ªKath¡¯s breath caught. ¡°I think I found something.¡± Holloway and Emma leaned in, their world about to change again. Kath squinted at the screen, zooming in on the illustration. "There¡¯s something behind the statue¡­" she muttered, adjusting the contrast on the image. Holloway leaned in. "What does it say?" Kath¡¯s breath hitched. "It¡¯s faint, but... it says Everglow Cemetery." Holloway pushed back from the desk, already reaching for his coat. "That¡¯s not far from here! Let¡¯s go." "Wait." Kath shot him a sharp look. "I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a wise idea. Given our circumstances, rushing in now puts us at a disadvantage. We¡¯re exhausted, wounded, and unprepared. If we go in like this, we could be walking into a trap." Emma clenched her fists. "No, we need to go now! People are dying¡ª" "Emma." Holloway¡¯s voice was firm. "Kath¡¯s right. The smartest move is to wait. We rest, we plan, and tomorrow morning, we go in with an advantage. When we do, we¡¯ll search that place inch by inch." Emma swallowed hard, her jaw tightening. Then, after a long pause¡ª"...Fine." --- Meanwhile¡ª Jia¡¯s fingers clenched around the strap of her bag as she approached the police station. She had spent all day gathering the courage to come here, to tell Emma and Alex what she remembered. She needed to talk to them. But when she stepped inside, her stomach sank. The station was quieter than usual. Officers bustled about, but none of them were the ones she needed. She walked up to the front desk. "Excuse me, I¡¯m looking for Officers Emma and Alex." The officer barely glanced up. "They¡¯re not available right now, kid. Come back later." Jia hesitated. "Do you know when they¡¯ll be back?" "Can¡¯t say. Might be a while." Her shoulders sagged. She muttered a quick "Thanks" and walked back outside, disappointment heavy in her chest. The streets were dimly lit as she made her way home, her mind racing. She had wanted to tell them, to help them¡ªbut now she¡¯d have to wait. Then, as she turned a corner, she saw them. A group of boys, same age as her, maybe tfifteen or sixteen¡ªlaughing, shoving another kid to the ground. Jia¡¯s stomach twisted. The boy they were picking on looked younger than her, maybe eight. He was small, frail, and clearly outnumbered. One of the bullies yanked at the boy¡¯s collar. "Say it again, freak." The boy remained silent. Jia didn¡¯t think. She ran forward. "Hey!" she shouted, shoving the closest bully away. "Leave him alone!" The group turned to her, startled. "What¡¯s your problem?" one of them sneered. "You¡¯re picking on a little kid. How pathetic can you be?" she shot back. The boys exchanged looks, then scoffed. "Whatever." With a few final kicks toward the boy¡¯s bag, they scattered into the night. Jia exhaled, turning to the kid. "You okay?" The boy tilted his head up at her. His expression was unreadable. Then, slowly¡ªhe smiled. A quiet, eerie smile. "We got you," he whispered. Jia blinked. "What?" The boy took a step back. Then another. And before Jia could react, darkness swallowed him whole. Pain erupted at the back of her skull. The world spun. Her vision blurred. And then¡ª Nothing. That night, Jia Sun disappeared. Chp15 - Vigil Emma had fallen asleep, her breathing steady despite the weight of everything they had uncovered. Across the dimly lit room, Holloway sat with the book open in his hands, his fingers tracing its worn edges. Holloway: "This book¡­ it''s strange. No scientific knowledge, no structured beginning, no credited author. It almost reads like a relic rather than a text." Kath sat by the window, awake despite the late hour. Kath: "Yes, and parts of it are lost to time. Some pages are damaged, faded, unreadable." Holloway: "Where did you even find this?" Kath: "In the old man¡¯s house." Holloway looked up, his expression sharpening. Holloway: "Old man?" Kath: "Yeah, he was an old man who lived in the missing boy''s apartment complex. We thought he might have answers, but¡­" She hesitated. "He was found murdered. The book was hidden." A heavy silence settled between them. Holloway flipped through its brittle pages, his eyes landing on a passage. "The eye is not watching you. It is watching for you." He read the words aloud, his voice quiet but weighted. Holloway: "I never understood what this meant. If the eye isn¡¯t watching us¡­ then what is it watching? Is it trying to protect us? If so, from what?" Kath: "i don¡¯t know. Right now, none of this makes sense. But if this book has survived all these years, someone must have wanted its message to be found. Maybe time will reveal its meaning." Holloway¡¯s fingers stopped on a symbol, an eye, but different from the others they had seen before. This one had a single tear trailing down from it. Holloway: "Even the eye¡­ it¡¯s crying in this version." He exhaled, leaning back. Holloway: "Is this a cult?" Kath: "It¡¯s possible. And if it is, they¡¯re dangerous. They don¡¯t just manipulate people. They use children." Stolen story; please report. Holloway¡¯s grip on the book tightened. Holloway: "Yeah¡­ They use the pillars of society, the innocent, the ones who should be protected, to instill fear. Because nothing shatters the human spirit more than seeing what should be pure turned into a weapon." Kath: "And the worst part? It works. People can ignore wars, corruption, and crime, but when children become tools of destruction, it breaks something fundamental in them. It makes them feel powerless¡­ and fear breeds control." Holloway: "Maybe that¡¯s the goal. To hollow people out, make them believe there¡¯s no saving the world. A broken world is easier to rule." Kath: "Or maybe it¡¯s worse than that. Maybe they don¡¯t care about ruling at all. Maybe they just want to prove that nothing is sacred, that even the most innocent can be turned into monsters." Holloway fell silent, staring at the crying eye. The ink, aged and faded, almost looked like real tears bleeding into the page. Kath exhaled, arms crossed as she stared at the book in Holloway¡¯s hands. The dim light cast shadows across the room, stretching their figures against the walls like ghosts of the past. Holloway: "A lot of people must be involved in this." Kath: "has to be it. If not, then¡­" She hesitated. "Then we¡¯d be dealing with something supernatural. And that¡¯s not logical." A sharp cry shattered the silence. Emma: "Alex¡­ Alex, no¡­ No, no, no¡­ Aleeex!" She didn¡¯t wake, just kept whimpering, trapped in whatever nightmare had claimed her. Holloway glanced at her, his expression unreadable. Holloway: "Sleep can be exhausting instead of restful¡­ when dreams turn to nightmares." Kath watched Emma shift, her fingers curling into the fabric of the couch as if trying to hold onto something or someone who wasn¡¯t there. Holloway turned his gaze back to the book, flipping to another page. His jaw tightened. Holloway: "A cult or a demon, I don¡¯t care. I¡¯ll make them pay for what they¡¯ve done." Chp16 - Everglow Morning came, and the scent of warm food filled the air. Emma had prepared breakfast, setting the plates down in front of Holloway and Kath. The two looked at her, momentarily surprised. Kath: "You cook?" Emma: "I do a lot of things." Holloway took a bite, nodding approvingly. "We¡¯ll finish this lovely meal and then head out." They ate in silence, each lost in thought, the weight of recent events pressing on them. Meanwhile, outside their quiet moment, the world was anything but still. The press refused to let up, hammering the higher-ups with relentless questions. The juvenile center was not an ordinary facility, and its destruction had ignited a firestorm. It was one thing for corruption to be whispered about in dark corners, but now, with children involved, the public demanded answers. Inside the packed conference room, the air was thick with murmurs and tension. Journalists leaned forward, cameras at the ready. Then, the door opened. A man walked in, tall, broad-shouldered, his presence commanding immediate attention. He wasn¡¯t old, perhaps 39 or 40, but there was something about him that made him seem older. Experience, perhaps. Or the burden of responsibility. His suit was crisp, his movements deliberate. This was Mr. Tai, the man responsible for police operations in Araguob. The cameras went wild. Tchk tchk tchk. The room flashed with light. A journalist near the front leaned forward, gripping their microphone. ¡°Mr. Tai, the public demands answers. How do you explain the explosion at the juvenile center?¡± Another reporter jumped in before he could respond. ¡°Was this a terror attack? An inside job? And what about the children-¡± ¡°Enough.¡± Tai¡¯s voice was deep, unwavering. The room instantly quieted. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders slightly, before speaking again. ¡°First and foremost, we extend our deepest condolences to the families affected by this tragedy. The situation is still under active investigation, and at this moment, there is no official confirmation regarding the cause of the explosion.¡± A murmur rippled through the room, but no one dared interrupt him now. ¡°However,¡± he continued, ¡°I can assure you this: We will find the truth. And when we do, there will be consequences.¡± The tension in the room thickened. He had given them just enough to stir speculation but not enough to satisfy them. That was intentional. A young journalist raised her voice, determined. ¡°And the investigators? The ones who went there-¡± Tai cut in. ¡°No further comments.¡± The cameras flashed again, tchk tchk tchk but Tai had already turned away. The press conference was over. But the hunt for answers was only beginning. Everglow Cemetery- The car came to a slow stop in front of the cemetery gates. The iron bars stretched high, rust creeping along their edges, the once-grand entrance now looking forgotten by time. Emma, Holloway, and Kath stepped out, their shoes crunching against the gravel. The air was cold, thick with the scent of damp earth and decay. Kath rubbed her arms. "Creepy. Why do clues never lead us to, I don¡¯t know¡­ a caf¨¦?" Emma ignored her, eyes locked on the statue that loomed just beyond the gate. A solemn figure stood tall, carved from weathered stone. In its hands, a long spear, its tip aimed downward. And right at the center of that spear. An eye. A familiar symbol. Emma¡¯s stomach tightened. She turned to Holloway. "You seeing this?" He gave a slow nod. "Yeah. And I don¡¯t like it." Kath took a cautious step closer, studying the statue. "It¡¯s old. Like, really old. This place has probably been abandoned for decades." Holloway exhaled sharply. "Let¡¯s move." The gate groaned as they pushed it open. The hinges shrieked in protest, and then they were inside. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The cemetery stretched before them, rows of forgotten graves, cracked tombstones, and moss-covered statues standing like silent sentinels. Time had not been kind to this place. Emma scanned the graves as they walked, her boots sinking slightly into the soft ground. The names on the stones had mostly eroded, reduced to ghostly imprints of the past. Kath huffed. "You know, I¡¯d really like it if we weren¡¯t wandering around a graveyard. Even if it is in the morning. This is how people die in horror movies." Holloway shot her a look. "Not a horror movie. Just another job." "Right," Kath muttered. "A job where we follow cryptic messages into abandoned cemeteries. Totally normal." Emma wasn¡¯t listening. Her eyes darted from grave to grave, searching for something, anything, that stood out. Then, as they turned a corner past a half-collapsed mausoleum, she saw it. "Wait." Emma stopped, pointing. A single grave stood apart from the others, as if it had been placed there deliberately. The headstone was smoother than the rest, less weathered, but what caught her attention was the inscription: "Are you seeking salvation or destruction?" Emma felt a chill crawl up her spine. Below the inscription, the name had been scratched out, leaving only a faint indent where it once was. But the dates remained: Born: 1934 Died: 1950 Sixteen years old. Just like Cain. And the missing boy. And beneath the dates, in smaller, fainter text, almost as if it had been carved in later "Wrong place." A heavy silence settled between them. Kath swallowed hard. "Okay. That¡¯s officially creepy." Holloway knelt, running his fingers over the engraving. His jaw tightened. "Someone put this here intentionally. They wanted it to be found." Emma crouched beside him, staring at the words. Her mind raced. Salvation or destruction. A choice. Or maybe a warning. Her fingers brushed the base of the headstone, and then she froze. The ground beneath her palm didn¡¯t feel solid. It felt¡­ hollow. She looked up, meeting Holloway¡¯s gaze. "There¡¯s something buried here." Holloway pressed his palm against the earth. A faint, unnatural give beneath his weight. He frowned. "No. There was something buried here." Emma¡¯s breath hitched. "What?" Holloway swept his hand across the dirt. His fingers dug in slightly loose soil, recently disturbed. He glanced at Emma. "Someone was here before us." Kath took a cautious step back, suddenly uneasy. "And they didn¡¯t just find something¡­ they took it." Emma turned her head sharply, eyes tracing the surroundings. The way the dirt had settled. The subtle indentations in the soil. Whoever had been here- They weren¡¯t just searching. They were erasing. She exhaled slowly. "Then we need to find out what they were trying to hide." Holloway stood, dusting off his hands. He turned back toward the entrance, toward the statue standing tall in the distance. His eyes followed the angle of the spear. Emma followed his gaze. Her stomach dropped. "Wait¡­ the book said the eye isn¡¯t watching you, it¡¯s watching for you." Holloway and Kath turned to her. Emma took a step back, looking at the statue again. "And look at the spear." Kath frowned. "What about it?" Emma traced the line of its aim, her breath hitching. "It¡¯s not pointed at the cemetery. It¡¯s aimed at something down the hill." They followed her gaze. Past the tangled weeds and forgotten gravestones, something lay hidden in the shadows below. A stone structure, barely visible through the overgrowth. Holloway¡¯s jaw tightened. "Guess we¡¯re not done here." Emma nodded, gripping her flashlight. "Let¡¯s go." Chapter 17 - Time Capsule The descent was slow, the uneven ground forcing them to tread carefully. Vines tangled over fallen headstones, the earth damp beneath their feet. As they approached, the structure became clearer, a lone stone monument, squat and unadorned, half-sunken into the hillside. Time had worn it down, smoothing its edges, erasing whatever purpose it once served. No names. No symbols. Just silence. Kath folded her arms. "You sure this is it? Looks like just another forgotten rock to me." Emma ignored her, stepping closer. Her fingers brushed the stone¡¯s surface, searching, feeling. Then, there. A faint indentation, almost lost beneath centuries of erosion. She wiped away the dirt. Letters. Faint, shallow, but still there. Holloway knelt beside her, tracing the words with his fingers, reading aloud: "We buried the question, but the answer never left." Silence. Kath frowned. "The hell does that mean?" Emma¡¯s mind spun, piecing it together. "It¡¯s not telling us where something is." She glanced back toward the graveyard above. "It¡¯s telling us what happened." Holloway¡¯s gaze darkened. "Someone tried to erase the truth." Emma nodded. The grave had already been dug up, whatever was there was gone. And now, this message¡­ not a clue, not a lead, but a reminder. Kath exhaled. "Okay. Creepy message from the past. And now what?" Emma looked at the graveyard, the statue, the weight of everything pressing in around them. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. "Now," she murmured, "we figure out what they were so afraid of." Holloway drove them back and dropped them off before heading elsewhere. He didn''t explain, and Emma didn''t ask. She and Kath entered the station, exhausted. The weight of everything pressed down on them, but as soon as they stepped inside, something felt off. At the far end of the room, two figures sat on a bench. The man was holding his wife, her body trembling as she sobbed into his chest. Jia''s parents. Emma¡¯s stomach twisted. She and Kath approached cautiously. "Mr. and Mrs. Sun?" The mother lifted her head. Her eyes were red, swollen. Then, before Emma could react, she dropped to her knees, gripping Emma¡¯s legs with desperate fingers. "My Jia¡­ My Jia is lost, I can¡¯t find her." Emma froze. The words hit her like a physical blow. The officer nearby cleared his throat, stepping forward. His face was grim. "She came here last night asking for you and Alex, but we had to send her back. Then these two arrived at 2 a.m. and haven¡¯t left since." Emma¡¯s pulse pounded in her ears. "What about the footage?" Kath¡¯s voice was sharp, almost shouting. "The cameras, check them!" The officer hesitated, then sighed. "There¡¯s nothing." Emma stiffened. "Nothing?" He shook his head. "She disappeared." The word echoed. Disappeared. The world spun around her. Disappeared. Emma¡¯s breath caught. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground. This can¡¯t be happening. Not again. She gripped the floor, her vision blurring. "I failed again¡­" .... Holloway sat in his car outside the house. His daughter¡¯s house. He had no reason to be there. No reason to watch. But he did. The windows were dark. The streets were quiet. Too quiet. Something was wrong. The air felt¡­ still. His instincts screamed at him, but he couldn¡¯t place why. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he stepped out of the car. And walked toward the house. Holloway stepped inside. Silence. Not the usual kind of silence that settled over a home at night, the unnatural kind. The kind that made the hairs on his arms rise. "Darling?" he called out. No reply. He rushed through the house, checking every corner, every shadow, his heartbeat a steady drum in his chest. Then he climbed the stairs. In the dim glow of a nightlight, his grandson lay asleep, his small chest rising and falling peacefully. Holloway hesitated. He reached out, but stopped himself. Instead, he sat down beside the bed, his eyes landing on a worn photo album resting nearby. He picked it up with careful fingers, flipping through pages of a life he hadn''t been a part of. His grandson, laughing. His daughter, smiling. A family he had never truly known. Regret weighed heavy on him. I should¡¯ve been there. Then- A sound. The front door creaked open. Footsteps. His daughter stepped in, carrying a bag of groceries only to freeze. The bags slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor. "What are you doing here?" Her voice was firm, controlled, but there was fear and anger beneath it. Holloway stood. "Listen, I-" "No." She cut him off. "You don¡¯t get to-" A sudden clatter. Something rolled inside. A metallic cylinder. Holloway¡¯s eyes widened. "Cover yourself!" he shouted, but there was nowhere to run. Gas erupted, filling the room in an instant. His daughter staggered, coughing, reaching for her son- Then darkness. Figures entered the room, masked, faceless. They crouched beside Holloway¡¯s unconscious form. One of them leaned in, voice low, almost mocking. "We warned you, old man." A pause. "Thanks for leading us to your daughter." Then, they took what they came for. Chapter 18 - Breakdown Holloway woke up gasping. His lungs burned. His head pounded, his vision was blurry as the world spun around him. The house was tidy, no papers scattered, no furniture overturned. These guys knew what they were doing, it wasn''t their fisrt time. The stench of gas clung to everything. His daughter. His grandson. Gone. He groaned as he tried to stand, but the world tilted. He reached for his phone. gone. His gun. gone. Holloway crawled out the room not being able to stand up yet, as he opened the door, something caught his eye. Scrawled across the wall in jagged, deliberate strokes: ¡°You were warned.¡± His stomach twisted. This was because of him. Because he went digging again. His sense of justice had already taken his wife and son away, and now it had taken his daughter and grandson too. History does repeat itself. He forced himself to stand up, using the wall for balance. He stumbled outside, cold air hitting his face, cold air hitting his face. His hands clenched. He had a choice, go to Emma and Kath for help or go after them alone. He already knew what he wanted to do. Somewhere very far from Holloway¡¯s location, Jia head lolled forward, heavy, disoriented. The world around her was sterile, white. Her arms wouldn¡¯t move. Strapped down, dry blood on the back of her head. The last thing she remembered, leaving the station, and the face of the boy she tried to protect. She wasn¡¯t alone. Footsteps. Breathing. Not a captor. Another prisoner. She turned around to see. There a woman and a young boy, were tied. The woman screamed at a man infornt of her, "Who are you? Why did you do this?." The man looked at her, his face not visible, "Your father, we warned him, but he didn¡¯t stop, he kept digging. Looking for us. Searching for us." The woman was confused, scared, "I don''t know what you''re talking about, but please let my son go, please I beg you, I''ll do anything." "Your son?." Maybe he''ll make up for a good soldier. The woman fell into silence, horrified. The silence was worse than screaming. Jia was still dizzy, she couldn''t understand everything that has been said. Then she noticed it. The wall across from her. A scratch, a symbol, faint but deliberate. It meant something. A chill ran through her. She was never supposed to be in this place. Somewhere near where Jia was. Inside a 17th century office. Two people sat together. Darkness. A desk. A faint glow from an old lamp. Papers scattered. A voice. ¡°We warned him.¡± A rustle. A turn of a page. ¡°It won¡¯t be enough.¡± A pause. ¡°Then we bury them too.¡± The lamp clicked off. Back at the police station Emma sat at her desk, unmoving. She had nothing left to say. Nothing left to feel. Jia was gone. Alex was in a coma. It all led back to Cain, the book, the damn eye watching for them. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Kath was hovering nearby, fidgeting. She didn¡¯t know how to deal with this version of Emma, Silent, Detached. Kath took her keys and went to the hospital where Alex was, she wanted to vent, even if it meant venting to someone in coma. Thirty minutes after Kath left, Holloway stormed inside the station. "Sir do you need something?". Officer said. "I''m here for Emma where''s she?." Holloway said, barely holding his ground. "I''ll go and check with her, wait here please." The officer smiled before turning and going to Emma''s office. After five minutes Emma walked out of her office, drained, her body was there but her mind.. her mind was no where to be seen. Holloway felt something was wrong, " What happened, he asked?." Bracing himself for whatever was coming next. Emma fidgeted, then. "Mr. Holloway, I think we should drop this case." She reached her breaking point. Holloway''s face darkened, his jaw clenched, his hands turned into fists, his knuckles turned white. Then, with barely contained anger. "You came to me for answers, I opened my door." "You dragged me back to this case, I offered my help." "MY DAMN DAUGHTER AND GRANDSON ARE NOW GONE BECAUSE OF YOU AND ALEX, AND NOW YOU''RE TELLING ME WE SHOULD QUIT?????." Emma''s eyes widened. "IF YOU''RE THAT EASY TO SCARE THEN PUT YOUR BADGE ON THE TABLE AND LEAVE." Holloway said in a low voice disgusted voice. "You." "Don''t." "Dessserve it." Emma made a grave mistake, she had forgotten the oath she took when she firs started this job, but it was too late now. She stood frozen, Holloway¡¯s words cutting deeper than she thought possible. He stormed past her, shoving the door open so hard it slammed against the wall. The station was silent. Officers who had overheard the argument looked away, pretending to be busy. No one wanted to get caught in the fallout. Emma¡¯s hands trembled. She swallowed the lump in her throat and turned back to her office, shutting the door behind her. For the first time since this started, she considered it, walking away. Letting it all go. But then she remembered the book. The explosion. The boy smiling before he turned into a bomb. Jia, strapped to a chair somewhere. Alex, still in that hospital bed. Kath had gone to see him. Right now, Emma couldn¡¯t face that. But maybe Kath could. Kath sat slouched in the chair beside Alex¡¯s bed, arms crossed, one foot tapping anxiously against the floor. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room. Alex looked¡­ small. Hooked up to machines, his usual sharp wit and relentless energy stripped away. She hated seeing him like this. Kath sighed, rubbing her face. ¡°You¡¯re really making me talk to a coma patient, huh?¡± she muttered. She leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. "Holloway¡¯s losing it. Emma¡¯s shutting down. And me? I just wanna scream at someone." Her eyes drifted to the window, to the dark city beyond. "What the hell are we supposed to do now, Alex?" Silence. Then- Her gaze dropped to Alex¡¯s hand. His fingers were curled slightly. Too relaxed for a fist, but not fully open either. Like he had been holding onto something. Kath frowned. Alex was in a coma, he hadn¡¯t moved since the explosion. So¡­ how? A creeping unease settled in her stomach. Slowly, carefully, she pried his fingers open. A small, crumpled piece of paper was inside. Kath¡¯s breath hitched. Her hands shook as she unfolded it. ¡°Veritas Foundation. The basement.¡± Her mind reeled. Veritas. That name. She had seen it before. In the book. A line surfaced in her memory, something cryptic, something that made no sense at the time. > ¡°The angel does not fall, nor rise, it returns to Veritas, where all truths are buried.¡± She stared at the words on the paper. Veritas. Truth. Buried. Alex shouldn¡¯t have had this. He couldn¡¯t have had this. Kath turned, scanning the dim hospital room. Her skin prickled. Someone put this here. A realization struck fast, sharp, undeniable. The book wasn¡¯t just a relic of the past. It was a guide, a connectionbetweenthe past and the present. And now? She had the destination. Kath shot up from her chair, her heart hammering. She fumbled for her phone, dialing. Emma picked up after two rings. Kath didn¡¯t waste time. ¡°I know where they are.¡± Kath gripped her phone tighter, hearing Emma¡¯s breath hitch on the other end. ¡°I know where they are,¡± Kath repeated, her voice sharper this time. Silence. Then, Emma exhaled, but it wasn¡¯t relief. It was something heavier. ¡°¡­Where?¡± Kath hesitated, suddenly aware of the weight of her own words. She looked at Alex again, still in a coma. Still unable to tell them how he got that note. Who put it there? The thought gnawed at her, but there was no time to dwell. ¡°Veritas,¡± she said. ¡°The basement.¡± Another pause. Then- Emma hung up. Kath cursed under her breath and shoved her phone into her pocket. She wasn¡¯t letting Emma spiral again. She stormed out of the hospital, heading straight for the station. Back at the precinct, Emma hadn¡¯t moved. Her fingers were still curled around the phone. Her mind buzzed. Veritas. Kath had a lead. A real, undeniable lead. And yet, she couldn¡¯t move. The weight of Holloway¡¯s words from earlier still clung to her like shackles. "If you¡¯re that easy to scare, put your badge on the table and leave." Maybe he was right. Maybe she wasn¡¯t cut out for this. The door suddenly slammed open. Kath. Her eyes were blazing, her expression borderline furious. ¡°You¡¯re not doing this,¡± Kath said immediately, stepping inside. ¡°You¡¯re not shutting down on me.¡± Emma¡¯s jaw tensed. ¡°Kath-¡± ¡°No.¡± Kath strode up to the desk, slamming her hands down. ¡°The officers told me what happened when I was gone. I don¡¯t give a shit what Holloway said. You¡¯re Emma Lane. The same woman who pulled a gun on a guy twice her size when she thought he was threatening me. The same woman who¡¯s been fighting this case like her life depends on it. So get up.¡± Emma looked away. ¡°I-¡± Kath grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look. ¡°Jia is alive. Alex is in a coma, and someone, someone put that note in his hand.¡± Emma blinked. Her breath stilled. Someone put the note there. It wasn¡¯t Alex. The implication hit her like ice down her spine. Someone wanted them to find Veritas. Someone was leading them there. Emma stood. "Kath snatched her coat. ''We need to move. Now-" The door opened again. Holloway. He stood there, looking tired. Not angry. Just tired. His eyes met Emma¡¯s. He exhaled. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have said that,¡± he muttered, stepping inside. ¡°You¡¯re not a coward.¡± Emma swallowed. The words sat heavy in the air. But she shook her head. ¡°No,¡± she admitted. ¡°You were right.¡± Holloway frowned. ¡°I let it get to me,¡± Emma continued, finally saying it out loud. ¡°I let it get in my head. And I almost walked away.¡± She met his gaze again. This time, steadier. ¡°But I¡¯m not walking away now.¡± Holloway studied her for a moment, then gave a single nod. ¡°¡­Good.¡± Kath, impatient, finally snapped, ¡°Great. Now that we¡¯ve had our emotional breakthrough, we need to move.¡± She turned to Holloway. ¡°We know where Jia is.¡± Holloway¡¯s expression hardened instantly. ¡°Where?¡± Emma took a deep breath. ¡°Veritas Foundation.¡± A dark flicker crossed Holloway¡¯s eyes. ¡°¡­Shit.¡± Kath grabbed her coat. ¡°We don¡¯t have time to waste.¡± Holloway nodded sharply. ¡°Then let¡¯s go.¡± No more hesitation. No more doubts. They moved. The hunt was back on. Chapter 19 - Steel Will Holloway¡¯s fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he remembered something. "A gun, I don''t have one. They took it." Emma, still feeling guilty about earlier, reached for her sidearm. "Here, you can have mine. Just promise to protect us." Holloway stared at the gun for a long moment. Then, he rested his hand on hers and pushed it away gently. ¡°There¡¯s no point in handing me your gun. You need to keep it in case something happens to me.¡± He turned away, his voice quieting. ¡°And don¡¯t feel bad about earlier. I accused you of being scared when I was the one who dropped this case years ago.¡± The regret in his tone was palpable. Kath offered a small smile. ¡°You¡¯re doing the right thing now, Mr. Holloway. That¡¯s what matters.¡± Emma felt a weight lift, only slightly, but there was still the issue of weapons. "But what about firepower?" she asked. "We need something, right? What are you going to do?" A smirk tugged at the old detective¡¯s lips. "You don''t have to worry about that. I¡¯ve got it covered." Emma and Kath exchanged a look of confusion as Holloway gestured for them to get in the car. At Holloway¡¯s house, Emma and Kath were even more confused. ¡°What are we doing here?¡± Kath asked, glancing around the dimly lit interior. Holloway didn¡¯t answer. He walked to the staircase, crouching by a small, dust-covered door. It looked untouched for years. With a grunt, he pulled it open, and a rush of stale air escaped. ¡°Follow me.¡± The wooden steps groaned beneath their weight as they descended. Crack. Crack. Crack. Each footstep sounded too loud in the silence. Then- Light. Their jaws nearly dropped. Weapons. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Knives. Swords. Daggers. And most importantly, guns. Holloway grabbed a Glock 19, slipping it into his pocket, then reached for a Benelli M4 shotgun. The way he handled it, the way his fingers traced the worn grip, told them he wasn¡¯t just familiar with it, he was comfortable with it. "Now," he said, turning to them with that same knowing smirk. "Choose yours." Emma hesitated before picking up a Sig Sauer P226, heavier than what she was used to. Kath, after some deliberation, settled for a compact pistol, still uncertain but aware she might have no choice but to use it. Holloway, meanwhile, was loading the shotgun with practiced ease. Emma gave him a look. ¡°Expecting a fight?¡± He gave a dry chuckle. ¡°I don¡¯t expect anything. I prepare for everything.¡± With their weapons secured, they left for the Veritas Foundation. The abandoned facility loomed in the moonlight, overgrown vines twisted through cracks in the concrete. The main gate was sealed shut with thick chains, rusted but unyielding. Emma rattled it. No luck. Kath kicked a loose brick. ¡°Great. Did we drive all the way here just to stare at a fence?¡± Holloway scanned the area, then pointed toward the side. ¡°There¡¯s always another way.¡± They moved along the outer wall, flashlights low, searching. Emma whispered, ¡°There has to be a side door.¡± Kath sighed. ¡°Or a hole. Maybe we just-¡± Click. They froze. Holloway turned first, gun raised. Nothing. Just the wind¡­ or so it seemed. Emma frowned. ¡°You heard that too?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Holloway muttered. ¡°Keep moving.¡± They finally spotted something, a side door, half-covered in rusted metal sheets. But when Emma tried the handle, it didn¡¯t budge. ¡°Locked.¡± Holloway took a step forward, shotgun in hand. Emma blinked. ¡°Wait, are you seriously-¡± BOOM. The shotgun roared, blasting the lock apart. Metal fragments clattered against the ground, the echo ringing through the night. Kath flinched. ¡°Subtle.¡± Holloway smirked. ¡°I was gonna use a crowbar, but this was faster.¡± Emma didn¡¯t argue. They needed to get inside, quietly was no longer an option. The door creaked as they stepped in. Darkness swallowed them whole. The air was thick, stale, carrying the scent of mold, rust, and something faintly metallic. Emma clicked on her flashlight. The beam swept across overturned desks, filing cabinets, and peeling walls. Kath rubbed her arms. ¡°Why does this feel wrong?¡± ¡°Because it is.¡± Holloway crouched, running his fingers over a dust-covered filing cabinet. ¡°This place wasn¡¯t just abandoned. It was erased.¡± Emma¡¯s eyes landed on a set of lockers. She pried one open. A lab coat hung inside. The sleeves were stained dark brown. Not rust. Blood. She turned to the others. ¡°If they left, they didn¡¯t do it willingly.¡± Kath exhaled sharply. ¡°Great. Love that.¡± Then- Crunch. Emma froze. Glass breaking underfoot. Not from them. She swung her flashlight down the hallway. Nothing. Just an open door, leading deeper into the dark. Kath¡¯s voice barely registered. "Tell me that was one of you." Holloway¡¯s voice was low. ¡°We¡¯re not alone.¡± They pressed on. Each room they passed was a piece of the past left to rot. Lab rooms were filled with overturned desks and shattered monitors. One room had a hospital bed with rusted restraints. Dried stains trailed down from the leather straps. Kath shuddered. ¡°Whatever they did here, I don¡¯t wanna know.¡± Emma crouched near a desk, rifling through old folders and paperwork. Most of it was redacted. Then- Her fingers brushed something. A clipboard. She lifted it, blowing off the dust. Check-in Log: February 12, 2038. Her pulse quickened. Kath leaned over her shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ today¡¯s date.¡± Emma didn¡¯t answer. Because she understood what that meant. Someone signed in before them. And they were still here. Before she could say anything, Holloway called out. ¡°Found something.¡± They rushed over. He stood near an old bureau desk, pushing aside papers and dust. Beneath them was something unexpected- A map. Torn, but detailed, outlining the entire facility. Emma traced the faded ink. It marked offices, archives, and a lower level. Her stomach twisted. There was a basement. Kath swallowed. ¡°We¡¯re following it, aren¡¯t we?¡± Holloway didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Damn right we are.¡± They moved carefully now, following the map¡¯s path toward a stairwell. It led downward. Emma gripped her gun. Basements were never good. Kath hesitated. ¡°Are we sure about this?¡± Holloway glanced back. ¡°Nope.¡± Then, without another word, he took the first step down. The darkness swallowed them whole. Chapter 20 - James Emanuel The air was thick with dust and the scent of something long-forgotten. Their flashlights flickered against rusted steel, illuminating faded warning signs and broken consoles. "This place shouldn''t still have power," Kath muttered, running a hand along a cracked monitor. Emma scanned the walls. "It''s old, but something¡¯s still running." Then- A sharp beep. The whirring of machines. Emma froze. "That wasn¡¯t us." A mechanical hiss echoed through the room. CLUNK. One by one, the steel doors slammed shut. Kath spun. "No-" SLAM. The entrance they came through, locked. The floor beneath them shuddered. A voice crackled through unseen speakers, distorted and ancient. "CONTAINMENT BREACH, SECURITY MEASURES ENGAGED." Emma¡¯s stomach dropped. Then- The ground collapsed. They didn¡¯t fall, they slid. The steel beneath them tilted, forming a chute, slick and impossible to stop. The world blurred as they plummeted through the dark, twisting and turning until- THUD. They hit solid ground. Emma groaned, pushing herself up. ¡°I swear to god-¡± Kath coughed, waving away dust. ¡°This place really wants us dead.¡± Holloway shined his flashlight ahead. A hallway stretched before them, long, narrow, and pitch black. No doors. No markings. Just endless darkness. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Emma¡¯s pulse quickened. ¡°Where the hell are we?¡± Kath swallowed hard. ¡°I don¡¯t think we want to know.¡± They started walking. The Endless Walk The silence was suffocating. Their footsteps echoed against the steel floor, the only proof they weren¡¯t walking into nothingness. They checked every inch of the walls, every crack, every panel, every door. Locked. Every. Single. One. Kath gritted her teeth. ¡°This isn¡¯t a hallway.¡± Emma turned to her. ¡°Then what is it?¡± Kath¡¯s eyes darted to the ceiling. ¡°¡­A cage.¡± The thought sent a chill down Emma¡¯s spine. This place was meant to trap people inside, but why? Then- A flicker of light. At the end of the hall, a door stood slightly ajar. A faint, cold glow seeped through the crack. Holloway adjusted his grip on his shotgun. ¡°Stay close.¡± They stepped inside. The Room of Ghosts Shelves lined the walls, stacked with folders, tapes, and broken monitors. A thick layer of dust covered everything. The room smelled of metal and decay. Kath rifled through a pile of documents. ¡°Some of these are decades old.¡± Holloway¡¯s jaw clenched, " it means whoever they are, they''ve been doing this for a very long time." Emma swept her flashlight across the room, then stopped. A DVD player. And beside it- A tape. Almost like someone had placed it there for them to find, but why? Her chest tightened. "We need to see what''s on this." She powered the machine on. The screen flickered. Then, video. The room was silent, save for the faint hum of the old DVD player. The grainy video flickered on the screen. A group of exhausted people ran through a dimly lit hallway, their clothes tattered, their faces hollow. At the front, a young man, 21 years old. Fair hair, pale skin, skinny. The light in his eyes was nowhere there. His voice came through, ragged and filled with quiet fury. "They lied to us. They told us we were being taken to safety, that we were destined for a greater fate." The camera shook as someone stumbled, but it kept filming. The boy¡¯s expression was haunted. "We thought the tests were over. We thought we won." A harsh breath. The figures behind him ran, their movements erratic. "But we were never meant to leave." The screen glitched for a moment. The group passed by a wall, strange symbols carved into the steel, partially obscured by dried stains. The boy¡¯s voice grew lower, almost a whisper. "They experiment on us. On children. On infants." The camera shifted for a bit showing a girl running, holding an infant. Emma and Kath stiffened. "They break you down. Strip away everything until you don''t remember who you were. And then they rebuild you into something else." His fingers dug into his temple as he kept running. "We were just the ones who lasted long enough to understand what was happening." Then, movement in the shadows. The camera jostled. Someone in the group shouted. The boy turned, his face illuminated by the dim emergency lights. "They¡¯re still here." The screen cut to static. Then, black. Emma leaned back, her mind racing through what they had just seen. The footage, the escape, the torn clothes, the desperation. It felt like a buried truth clawing its way to the surface. Kath was the first to speak. ¡°They were prisoners.¡± Her voice was quiet, but heavy. ¡°They weren¡¯t just test subjects, they were trapped here.¡± Emma nodded, still staring at the blank screen. ¡°And they weren¡¯t alone.¡± She glanced at Kath. ¡°Did you see the woman? The one in the back?¡± Kath swallowed. ¡°Holding a baby.¡± A chill ran through the room. Emma exhaled, trying to steady herself. ¡°Who the hell were they?¡± Kath shook her head. ¡°Runaways. People who were supposed to be dead.¡± Emma frowned. ¡°And that guy, the one speaking to the camera, he seemed important.¡± Kath nodded. ¡°Yeah. The way he spoke¡­ It¡¯s like he knew something. Like he wanted to expose it.¡± They kept talking, analyzing every second of the footage, throwing theories back and forth. Then they noticed. Holloway hadn¡¯t said a word. He wasn¡¯t looking at the screen. He was looking past it. Staring at something only he could see. Emma hesitated. ¡°Walter?¡± No response. Kath frowned. ¡°Hey, old man. You good?¡± Still nothing. His breathing was slow, too slow, like someone trying to hold back something breaking. Emma took a step closer. ¡°Walter, what is it?¡± For a moment, he didn¡¯t move. Then, he whispered. ¡°¡­It¡¯s him.¡± Emma¡¯s stomach twisted. ¡°What?¡± His jaw tightened. ¡°The boy on the screen.¡± James Emanuel. Emma, "that name sounds familiar..." Kath blinked. ¡°You recognize him?¡± Holloway finally turned to look at them. His face was pale, his eyes distant. But when he spoke, his voice was clear. Cold. Absolute. ¡°I don¡¯t just recognize him.¡± A pause. A breath. Then, the words that changed everything. ¡°I spent years looking for that kid.¡± "I would recognize that face among millions of pictures." Emma felt the air leave her lungs. ¡°¡­What?¡± Holloway clenched his fists. ¡°That¡¯s the missing boy.¡± A dead, suffocating silence settled in. Kath¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°No. That- that can¡¯t be right.¡± Emma¡¯s pulse pounded. ¡°Walter, he was, he was, what, twenty? Twenty-one?¡± Holloway nodded, his face grim. ¡°But when he disappeared¡­ He was seventeen.¡± Silence. Chapter 21 - Veritas Foundation The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. The screen had gone black, but the James Emanuel words still echoed in their heads. Emma clenched her jaw. ¡°James Emanuel¡­ He wasn¡¯t just missing.¡± Walter''s knuckles turned white, "No, he was taken." Kath crossed her arms as a way to comfort herself, her voice low. ¡°They had him this whole time. But why? What did they do to him?¡± Walter¡¯s eyes remained fixed on the dead monitor, he couldn''t believe the boy he spent years looking for was still alive this whole time. Emma, ¡°And who were the children in that footage?¡± her voice was grim. ¡°Were they prisoners? Test subjects?¡± Too many questions. No answers. Kath took a deep breath. ¡°One thing¡¯s for sure, whatever happened here, the truth is still buried somewhere in this place.¡± And they were going to find it. Their footsteps echoed down the metallic hallway, past rusted panels and warning signs. Then- A reinforced door stood before them. Tall. Thick. The steel was dented, scratched, as if someone had tried to break through. And in the center- The Eye Symbol. The same sigil they had seen before, always marking something important. Something hidden. Kath ran her hands along the door, searching for a way in. ¡°No handle, no keypad. It¡¯s locked from the inside.¡± Emma stepped back. ¡°There has to be a way-¡± Then she saw it. A hidden panel, barely noticeable, embedded in the wall. It had a slot for an access key. A key they didn¡¯t have. Kath cursed under her breath. ¡°Of course. It''snot goingto be that easy.¡± Walter snapped back from his thoughts and turned, scanning the area. ¡°Then we look.¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. They searched through overturned desks, inside rusted lockers, among scattered papers. Then- Emma spotted something. A dead body and- A bloodstained ID card. Tony smith. She picked it up, heart pounding as she she saw a piercing on the side of his skull. Silence. Kath swallowed. ¡°¡­Omg¡± Emma tightened her grip. This wasn¡¯t a normal death, this was like a scene from a horror film, a clich¨¦ horror film. And now, in her hands. She exhaled. ¡°Let¡¯s find out what¡¯s behind this door.¡± She swiped the card. The lock clicked. The door slid open. And they stepped inside. The room wasn¡¯t what they expected. Not a cell. Not a lab. But a library. Rows of dusty shelves stretched along the walls, filled with aging books and binders. The air smelled of paper and mildew, untouched for years. Kath ran a hand over a spine. ¡°This¡­ isn¡¯t normal.¡± Emma¡¯s flashlight swept over the shelves. No fiction. No history books. Only research files, medical reports, hand-written notes. And at the far end- Another door. Kath was getting tired of all this, "It''s like a damn maze." Walter stepped forward. ¡°That¡¯s not all.¡± He pointed to a desk. On it- A DVD player. And a tape. Again, it felt like someone had put it there. Tony Smith experiment 000. They played it. The screen flickered. A man appeared. Middle-aged. Unshaven. Blood on his shirt. His breathing was uneven. His hands trembled. And when he spoke, his voice was hollow. "If you¡¯re watching this, I¡¯m already dead." A pause. "I was a researcher here. We were told we were saving lives, pushing the boundaries of human potential." A bitter laugh. "But we weren¡¯t saving anyone. We were building something. And when they started using children, I knew¡­ I knew we had gone too far." His gaze darted off-screen. "The tests. The disappearances. The ones who never left their rooms. We weren¡¯t supposed to ask questions. But I did. And then¡­" He exhaled shakily. "Then, they brought in Cain." Emma and Kath exchanged glances. There it was again. The researcher¡¯s voice lowered. "That¡¯s when everything changed. The experiments, the results-" His breath hitched. "They called it progress. I called it something else." Then- A voice off-screen. Cold. Mocking. "Mr. Smith¡­ you shouldn¡¯t be doing this." The researcher¡¯s face drained of color. He turned, slowly. His voice cracked. "I trusted you." He followed, "did you really think we wouldn''t notice?, helping the subjects all this time?." Tony couldn''t even turn his face to look at man, he was simply- Terrified. The man added, "we just didn''t bother because we were curios to see how the subjects will react when given some sense of support and affection." The researcher clenched his fist, the weight of regret was eating him alive, and now you''re telling him he was far deep in the experiment than he actually thought he was. The searcher, in a desperate move, tried to get up and fight but-. The voice laughed. BANG. The researcher¡¯s head jerked to the side. Blood sprayed across the camera. The tape shook as the body collapsed. Then, movement. A figure stepped into frame. Unaware of the camera. A tall man. Broad shoulders. A black coat. And a fox mask. The screen cut to static. Emma¡¯s pulse hammered in her ears. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Kath stared at the frozen image. ¡°That voice. " this tony... at least he admitted it..." Walter¡¯s face was unreadable. ¡°And that man¡­ the one who killed him¡­¡± Emma swallowed hard. ¡°We need to check those files.¡± Kath¡¯s fingers flew across the nearby computer terminal. She bypassed corrupted folders, then stopped. A hidden document. Labeled: "REDACTED - FINAL CLEARANCE." She opened it. A list of names. James Emanuel. Eliminated: January 7, 2030. Age: 26. Walter hopes completely crumbled before his eyes. Emma felt a cold dread seep into her bones. Kath scrolled. More names. Luna Belle: ¡®EXPIRED.¡¯ Rick Norman: ¡®RECLAIMED.¡¯ Emilia Armen: ¡®SUCCESSFUL TRANSFER.¡¯ Then, one last name. Cain. Final Name: [CAIN ¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€] Status: [UNKNOWN.] Date of birth: [2025.] No termination date. No notes. Just, Cain. His last name was scratched completely. Emma¡¯s throat was dry. ¡°Cain ¡­He¡¯s the only one without a fate.¡± Kath whispered, ¡°What the hell is Cain? Why everything leads back to him??.¡± Walter¡¯s voice was grave. ¡°Better question¡­¡± ¡°Is he still here?¡± Chapter 22 - Veritas Foundation || There was a long pause before Holloway finally spoke. Emma stiffened. Her eyes widened. Cain¡¯s age. Walter immediately noticed her reaction. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Emma¡¯s voice was strained. ¡°The date doesn¡¯t add up. When Alex and I searched for Cain¡¯s records at the juvenile center, there was no birth certificate, however the legal document stated he was sixteen. We didn¡¯t question it because, well¡­ he looks sixteen.¡± Kath frowned. ¡°She¡¯s right. Sixteen, maybe even seventeen, just like my younger brother.¡± Holloway murmured something under his breath. It was quiet, almost as if he was speaking to himself. But the moment the words left his mouth, both Emma and Kath froze. Kath swallowed. ¡°W-what did you just say, Mr. Holloway?¡± Holloway exhaled. ¡°I said¡­ if this date is correct, then maybe someone made sure Cain¡¯s birth was hidden.¡± A heavy silence fell over them. That didn¡¯t need further explanation. It meant two obvious things: One, someone was pulling the strings. Someone with enough power and influence to erase civilian records, changing his real age from thirteen to sixteen. Two, someone with all that power went out of their way just to hide Cain¡¯s identity. Holloway¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°The deeper we go, the more we uncover¡­ but let¡¯s not get overwhelmed. We¡¯re here for a reason. Something tells me this is only the surface. The real truth? It might not even be here.¡± Emma¡¯s grip tightened around the files. If this was only the surface- What the hell were they about to find beneath it? The weight of what they had just seen so far, hung in the air like a curse. The fox-masked man. The execution. The names. James Emanuel and Cain. Emma¡¯s fingers tightened around the desk. ¡°James Emanuel was eliminated. That¡¯s the word they used.¡± Kath¡¯s hands hovered over the keyboard. ¡°Reclaimed. Expired. Successful transfer. What the hell do these mean?¡± Walter exhaled sharply, gaze fixed on the screen. ¡°This wasn¡¯t just experimentation. This was systematic. Organized.¡± Emma¡¯s eyes darted back to the last name. Cain ¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€ Status: UNKNOWN. A chill crawled up her spine. He was the only one without a fate or a last name. Not eliminated. Not transferred. Just¡­ unknown. Kath backed out of the files, scanning the system. ¡°There¡¯s a door at the back of the library. Restricted access. If we want to get in, we need clearance.¡± Emma looked down at the bloodstained ID. The last one had worked. Would this? They moved toward the hidden doorway, barely visible behind a shelf. A scanner beside it pulsed red. Kath held up the card. ¡°Let¡¯s hope Tony Smith had access to this door as well.¡± Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. She swiped it. A pause. Then, click. The door hissed open. The deeper they went, the colder the air became. It wasn¡¯t just the temperature, it was the sterility. The kind of chill that came from a place meant to be sealed. Preserved. Emma¡¯s boots made no sound against the smooth concrete floor. The hallway stretched before them, dimly lit by flickering overhead lights. This part wasn¡¯t abandoned. It was maintained. She exchanged a glance with Walter, then Kath, before stepping forward. And then- The first room. Emma swept her flashlight inside. Rows of hospital beds, restraints still attached. Medical equipment, untouched, as if waiting for their next use. Scattered papers covered the floor, some stained, some torn, but the glass tanks at the back made her breath hitch. Some were cracked. Others¡­ smashed open. Kath hesitated. ¡°Were they¡­ keeping something here?¡± Walter¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Or someone.¡± Emma knelt beside one of the shattered tanks, wiping the dust from a metal plate attached to its base. SUBJECT 047 ¨C STATUS: TERMINATED. Her stomach twisted. She turned to the next tank, but its label was ripped away. Her pulse quickened. ¡°Kath. Check the computer.¡± Kath rushed to the nearby console, her fingers flying over the keys. The screen flickered to life, casting a sickly glow over her face. A single log appeared on the screen. ACCESS LOGS ¨C LAST OPENED: 2037. Kath exhaled sharply. "This place was active last year." Silence. Emma and Walter exchanged a look. Someone had been here. And if the dust-free equipment was any clue- Someone was still here. Kath scanned the interface. ¡°Wait¡­ there¡¯s a restricted section. It¡¯s connected to this lab, but it requires clearance.¡± Emma¡¯s gaze flickered to the security panel on the wall. No keycard slot, just a biometric scanner. Kath exhaled. ¡°Give me a second.¡± She pulled out a small device, linking it to the console. Her fingers worked fast, cracking the system layer by layer. Emma watched as red text turned green. A soft beep. A pause. A click. The wall slid open, revealing the next level. A vast, underground facility. And this time- It wasn¡¯t empty. Desks with running computers. Screens displaying live data. Files neatly stacked, categorized. Walter tensed. ¡°This¡­ isn¡¯t abandoned.¡± Emma¡¯s breath hitched. ¡°It¡¯s operational.¡± Then she saw them. Rows of metal doors. Small, numbered. Some were open. Inside, bunks. Blankets. Personal belongings. Not just an experiment hall. A prison. Her grip tightened on her flashlight as her gaze drifted further- And her stomach dropped. There, at the far end of the room, through a glass partition- People. Children. The missing kids. They had found them. But the sight wasn¡¯t a relief. It was a nightmare. Emma rushed forward, scanning the faces. Malnourished. Pale. Some unconscious. Some barely moving. Emma spotted her immediately. Jia, huddled near the front of the glass cell, eyes wide, alive. For a moment, it was like time froze. Then- "Emma?!" Jia¡¯s voice cracked, filled with disbelief. She stumbled forward, hands pressing against the reinforced glass, as if afraid that if she blinked, Emma would disappear. Emma was already moving. She slammed her palm against the glass. "Jia! It¡¯s us! We¡¯re getting you out!" Jia¡¯s breath shuddered. "Y-you- You¡¯re real?" Emma nodded frantically. Jia let out a breathless, almost hysterical laugh. "Oh my god, Oh my god, you don¡¯t know what they- what they said, I thought-" Her voice cracked. "I thought no one was coming." "Of course we came!" Emma pressed harder against the glass, as if that would bring her closer. "We¡¯re getting everyone out." Jia nodded quickly, stepping back so Kath could finish hacking the lock. But then she turned- And her expression changed. Emma followed her gaze- And realized. The other children weren¡¯t moving. They were standing in place, backs pressed against the walls, eyes empty. Some weren¡¯t even looking at them, just staring at the ground, or at the flickering light above. No reaction. No relief. Just silence. A thin girl near the back finally spoke. Her voice was a whisper. "If we leave, we disappear." Another boy, no older than her, shook his head violently, muttering to himself. "Not real. Not real. Not real." Emma¡¯s stomach dropped. It wasn¡¯t hesitation. It was fear. Deep, conditioned fear. Jia whipped back to Emma, voice urgent. "They think it¡¯s another test." Emma¡¯s hands curled into fists. "Damn it-" Walter suddenly moved past her. His steps were shaky, unsteady. Emma turned, just as she saw what he was looking at. A young woman stood in the farthest corner. Holding a small child in her arms. Walter froze. His breath hitched. No. No, no, no- It was her. His daughter. She was alive. She looked at him, arms tightening around the boy, and something in Walter shattered. His throat was dry. His voice barely made it out. "Sweetheart-" She flinched. Walter felt his heart stop. Emma grabbed his arm, steadying him, whispering. "She¡¯s scared, Walter. It hasn¡¯t even been a day, but they¡¯ve already done something to her. You need to bring her back." Walter swallowed, trying to steady his voice. "Sweetheart, it¡¯s me. It¡¯s Dad. I¡¯m here, I¡¯m real. We¡¯re leaving. I promise-" His voice cracked. "Come here, please." His daughter¡¯s grip on the child tightened. But she took a step. Then another. And suddenly, she collapsed into Walter¡¯s arms, sobbing. Walter crushed her against his chest. He felt the boy¡¯s tiny arms around his neck, clutching onto him, shaking. For a moment, it was just them. A father, a daughter, and a grandson, ripped apart and finally, finally reunited. Then- Click. Kath¡¯s voice. "The locks are down." The glass doors slid open. Jia rushed forward immediately. But the others? Still didn¡¯t move. Emma stepped inside. "Listen to me." Her voice was firm, but urgent. "This is not a test. No cameras. No guards watching. If you stay, you die. If you follow us, you live." Silence. Then- Jia turned, reaching for the thin girl. She grabbed her wrist. Firm. Real. The girl gasped. Her breath hitched. Then, she moved. A second boy followed. Then a third. One by one, they stepped forward. Hesitant. Terrified. But they moved. Walter pulled his daughter closer. Kath scanned the group. Emma exhaled sharply, relief flooding her. Then. A sound. A loud, metallic beep. Emma¡¯s stomach dropped. ¡°What¡¯s happening??¡± She turned-. There. At the corner of the hallway. A boy stood by the alarm panel, his small hand still pressed against the button. His face was pale, too pale. Expressionless. Hollow. He didn¡¯t look human. Not anymore. ¡°You can¡¯t escape an angel,¡± he murmured. His voice was empty. Programmed. Kath¡¯s voice was tight. "No. No, no, no, no." ALARMS. Blaring. The children flinched. Some screamed. The entire facility was awake. Emma¡¯s heart slammed against her ribs. They¡¯d been found. And now- They had to run. Chapter 23 - Fox Mask They ran as if their lives depends on it, because they did, if they didn¡¯t escape now, only God knows what will happen to them and the kids. A door. Locked. "Step aside." Walter said as he pulled his shotgun and broke it. "Now run." Then a shout came from behind, "they''re here!" "Shit, they found us." Emma said. The man behind them started shooting. Missed. Missed. Then it landed on Walter¡¯s arm. Walter groaned in pain but didn''t stop, he was getting his daughter and grandson out of here even if it cost him his life. Walter grabbed his gun from his pocket, and shot back. Bullseye, the man dropped dead. They continued running to the unknown. "Mr. Holloway are you alright?" Kath was worried about him. Emma cut a piece of her shirt and gave it to him, "here." "We don¡¯t have time for this, I''m good just keep running." Holloway took the piece and stopped the blood with it as he kept running. Cold walls. Blinding fluorescent lights. A maze of sterile, lifeless corridors stretched ahead, lined with doors that had no names, only numbers. The air was thick with sterility and secrecy, a place designed to be forgotten by the world above. Emma tightened her grip on the pistol, her breaths controlled but shallow. The map in her other hand shook ever so slightly as she tried to trace their escape route. Holloway moved ahead, his movements sharp despite the pain in his injured arm. Kath followed, scanning every corner like a hawk. They had minutes, maybe seconds, before the next wave of hell came crashing down. "We need to find a way out." Kath¡¯s voice was sharp, clipped. "That blast must have drawn attention." Emma nodded, eyes flicking between the map and the hallways. "We''re underground. If we don¡¯t find an exit soon-" Clack. The sound of boots. Not one pair. Many. A voice crackled over the speakers, calm, almost amused. "They''re still inside. Close the exits. Don''t let them leave." Then, gunfire. A storm of bullets ripped through the hallway. "Cover the kids!!" Kath shouted. "Shit-!" Holloway grabbed Emma¡¯s arm, yanking her back behind a steel column as rounds slammed into the walls. Sparks burst as bullets ricocheted off metal panels, the deafening echo ringing in their ears. Kath returned fire, her shots precise. One guard dropped. Then another. "Wait!" A voice from behind the gunmen barked out. "Stop shooting! You¡¯ll hit the subject!" The gunfire ceased. A tense silence. The air still buzzed with the sound of metal cooling from the heat of bullets. Emma exchanged a glance with Holloway. "Run," he mouthed. They moved. Fast. Boots slammed against the floor as they sprinted down the corridor, weaving through the maze of identical hallways. The map was useless now. They had no time. Doors. Lined on both sides. Locked. Locked. Locked. Then- "This one''s open!" Emma shoved the door open. They slipped inside, the scent of antiseptic and something rotten filling their lungs. The room was lined with metal gurneys. Restraints. Dried blood. She didn¡¯t want to think about what happened here. "Shoot them!" The order rang from the hallway. "Even if the subjects die, no one can know about this facility!" "But Capt-" "I said shoot them n-!!" Stolen novel; please report. Then, BOOM. A single shot. A sickening thud as the captain''s body crumpled to the floor. The guards turned, and froze. A man stood at the end of the hall. Fox mask. "Let them go," he said, his voice cold. For a second, nobody moved. Then, slowly, they lowered their guns. They didn¡¯t argue back. Emma, Holloway, and Kath didn¡¯t wait to understand. They bolted. Kept running. And then- A staircase. They stumbled up, the air shifting. The walls changed from cold metal to concrete. Then glass. Then- They were outside. The city. Night air. Neon lights. The facility was underground. "We''re at the edge of the city..." Emma said. Then she continued, "How big is this damn place..." "Big enough to run a whole facility underground and maybe stretch all over the city." Kath said. Walter looked at his grandson then the kids who were in awe, when was the last time they saw the light of the city and smelled fresh air, "we don''t have time that let''s take them somewhere safe for now." Emma nodded then called the police station. "We need immediate back, NOW." Not long after that the back up arrived at the scene, police officers, ambulances, firefighters and even the press, no one understood how they knew, but they had one thing in common.. they were all in a state of shock, but they had to be quick. The police station was chaos. The moment they arrived, officers swarmed the area. The rescued children, some silent, others crying, were reunited with frantic, sobbing parents. Holloway stood stiffly as his daughter approached, her face unreadable. She looked at the bandage on his arm. The exhaustion in his eyes. Then, she hugged him. Tightly. "I thought they''re gonna kill us," she whispered. "I''m sorry," Holloway murmured. He looked past her, to the boy. His grandson. The child blinked sleepily. "...Mom? Who¡¯s this?" His daughter knelt beside him. "This is your grandfather." Holloway¡¯s breath hitched. He dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he cupped the boy¡¯s face. Then, he kissed his forehead. --- The news exploded overnight. The kidnappings. The facility. The faces of missing children were broadcasted on every screen, every headline. Breaking News: "A shocking discovery has rocked the nation as authorities uncover a massive underground facility involved in the abduction and trafficking of children. Survivors have been rescued, and families are reuniting, but many questions remain. Who was behind this operation? How did it go unnoticed for so long? And most importantly, how deep does this conspiracy go? Officials are calling it an act of war. Stay tuned as we bring you the latest updates." In living rooms across the city, families watched, some clutching their children closer. Then, a press conference. A man stepped up to the podium. Tall. Stern. Powerful. Same man from the last press conference. The room went silent as he spoke. ¡°This is war.¡± His voice was cold, cutting through tense atmosphere like a blade. The cameras flashed, the journalists leaned forward, hanging onto his next words. He let the silence stretch, the weight of his declaration sinking into the minds of everyone present. Then, he continued, his gaze sweeping over the sea of reporters. "For too long, we have allowed the rot to spread beneath our feet. Hidden networks, untouchable figures, operating in the shadows as if the law does not apply to them. But let me make this clear, there will be no shadows left for them to hide in. Not anymore. We will find them. We will expose them. And we will burn them to the ground." Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some journalists furiously scribbled notes, others whispered to their colleagues. The tension in the air was palpable. "This is no longer a matter of crime," he continued, his voice unwavering. "This is an attack on our children, on our people, on everything we stand for. And make no mistake, whoever is responsible, wherever they hide, they will face justice. No matter how powerful they think they are, they will fall." The moment he finished, chaos erupted. Journalists shot up from their seats, shouting over each other. "Sir, do you have any leads?" "Who was behind the facility?" "Is the government complicit in this?" "How deep does this go?" But he didn¡¯t answer. He simply turned on his heel and walked off the stage, his footsteps steady, controlled. Security blocked the desperate reporters as he disappeared behind the curtains, leaving only the weight of his words behind. The chaos of the press conference still lingered in the airwaves, looping through news channels as anchors dissected every word. But in the sterile quiet of the hospital, none of it mattered. Emma stepped inside the dimly lit room, her boots barely making a sound against the floor. The scent of antiseptic stung her nose, mixing with the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Alex lay still, his face paler than she remembered. Bandages wrapped around his head, his left arm in a sling. Wires and tubes connected him to the machines, keeping him stable, but unmoving. Kath exhaled slowly and pulled up a chair beside him. ¡°Hey, dumbass,¡± she said, forcing a smirk. ¡°Guess I should be used to seeing you like this by now.¡± No response. Just the soft rise and fall of his chest. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together. ¡°You should¡¯ve seen it, Alex. We actually did it. The kids... they¡¯re safe. You¡¯d be proud.¡± A lump tightened in her throat, but she swallowed it down. She glanced at his face, hoping for some reaction, a twitch, a blink, anything. Nothing. She looked down at her hands. ¡°You always had to be the hero, huh? Couldn¡¯t just let us handle it. Had to throw yourself into the fire.¡± She scoffed, shaking her head. ¡°Asshole.¡± The silence pressed against her. Her fingers curled into fists. ¡°You better wake up soon. We still have work to do.¡± Still nothing. Emma let out a shaky breath and leaned back in the chair. She didn¡¯t cry. She wouldn¡¯t. The door creaked open behind her. Kath. She didn¡¯t say anything, just stepped inside and stood by the doorway, watching. Emma sniffed and rubbed at her nose with the sleeve of her jacket before standing. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± she murmured, voice quieter than before. Kath studied her for a moment before nodding. As Emma turned to leave, she hesitated. One last glance at Alex. Then, she reached down and squeezed his hand. Just for a second. ¡°You¡¯re not allowed to die, got it?¡± And with that, she walked out. Kath took one last look at Alex, then followed. The door clicked shut. The room was silent once more. But if anyone had been paying attention, they might¡¯ve noticed, for just a second, Alex¡¯s fingers twitched. The next day in more sophisticated place, crowded by skyscrapers, A towering skyscraper stood above them all. Glass reflecting the city¡¯s glow. The office was dimly lit. High above the city, beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the skyline stretched in an endless sea of neon and steel. A fox mask sat on the polished desk. Unmoved. Watching. A lone figure stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing down at the streets below. Knock. Knock. Knock. A pause. Then- "Come in." Footsteps. Controlled. Measured. Cain stepped inside, his expression unreadable. The soft glow of city lights barely touched him, as if the darkness clung to him more naturally than the light ever could. He said nothing at first. Just watched. Then, finally, his voice quiet, but heavy. Too calm. "Why?" The man didn¡¯t turn. "Why what?" Cain took another step forward. He didn¡¯t sound angry. Didn¡¯t even sound curious. Just... cold. "You showed them the facility. You let them escape." A beat of silence. Then, a quiet chuckle. "And?" Cain¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. The man finally turned, a slow, deliberate movement. His smirk was subtle, but his eyes, his eyes were something else entirely. Cain didn¡¯t blink. "You think this is a game." The man¡¯s smirk widened, just a fraction. "No. I think you misunderstand something." He leaned back against the desk, fingers resting near the fox mask. "You¡¯re asking the wrong question." Cain tilted his head, just slightly. The smallest movement. The air around him felt heavier. "Then what¡¯s the right one?" The man¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t fade. "Why did I let them escape?" he echoed, rolling the words slowly, as if amused. Then, he exhaled, shaking his head. "Cain, Cain, Cain..." Cain didn¡¯t react. Didn¡¯t move. Just stared. The smirk faltered. Not much. Just a fraction. A crack in the mask. Then, the man straightened, smoothing his sleeves. The smirk was back. "You¡¯ll soon find out." Cain was silent. Still. Completely, eerily still. Then, he turned toward the door. The man watched him leave, but just as Cain reached for the handle- "My dear son." Cain stopped. A pause. Then, without looking back, without a single sign of hesitation, he opened the door and walked out. The air in the office felt colder. The door clicked shut behind him. The man exhaled slowly. His fingers tapped against the desk. Just once. Just enough to break the silence. And for the first time that night, the man let out a breath. **** In a quiet neighborhood, Holloway sat on the floor of the living room, surrounded by the soft hum of a home finally filled with life again. His grandson giggled as he stacked wooden blocks, his small hands carefully balancing each piece. The boy¡¯s eyes sparkled with a kind of joy that only children untouched by cruelty could have. Holloway just watched. Just existed in this moment. From the kitchen, his daughter hummed softly while preparing tea, the scent of chamomile filling the air. It was the kind of normalcy he hadn¡¯t dared to dream of for years. A car pulled up outside. The engine cut, and two familiar figures stepped out. Emma and Kath. Their hands stuffed into their pockets, their postures loose but tired. Holloway glanced up as they stepped onto the porch. Kath smirked, leaning against the doorframe. ¡°We did it.¡± Emma exhaled, looking around. ¡°Feels weird, huh? A quiet ending.¡± Holloway chuckled. ¡°Enjoy it while it lasts.¡± A comfortable silence settled between them. For now, just for now, the battle was over. Chapter 24 - Two Faces The hospital room smelled of disinfectant and coffee, a strange combination that had become oddly familiar over the past two weeks. Afternoon light stretched through the windows, casting soft shadows on the white sheets. Alex lay back against the pillows, his bandaged shoulder resting in a sling. He looked better, still tired, still healing, but alive. And that was more than Kath could have asked for. She sat beside him, one leg folded over the other, twirling a pen between her fingers. Her voice had been animated for the past several minutes, recounting their most recent brush with death. "And then," she said, leaning forward, "we ran with the kids, and behind us? Bullets everywhere. Like a damn warzone. I could hear them cutting through the air. One of them nearly clipped my ear!" Alex smirked. "And yet, somehow, you¡¯re still in one piece." Kath scoffed. "Because I¡¯m good, Alex. Not just anyone can carry a kid and sprint for their life at the same time." "You tripped." Kath groaned. "It was a stumble, okay? And I recovered! That¡¯s what matters." Alex chuckled, wincing slightly at the movement. "Well, for what it¡¯s worth, you did good." She smiled, leaning back in her chair. "Yeah. We did." For a while, the room was quiet. It was a rare kind of peace, the kind that didn¡¯t feel like it would be ripped away at any second. Then Kath¡¯s phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen. Holloway. Her brows lifted slightly as she answered. "Hey-" "Kath," Holloway¡¯s voice was steady, lighter than usual. "I just wanted to tell you... I¡¯m leaving." She sat up straighter. "What?" "I found a place. Far from here. Me and my daughter... we¡¯re gonna start fresh." Her lips parted slightly, processing his words. "That¡¯s- wow." She let out a small breath. "That¡¯s really good, Holloway. She deserves that. You deserve that." "Yeah," he said, and she could almost hear the smile in his voice. "I think I like this new life." Kath smiled. "Then enjoy it." "You too." The call ended. Kath stared at her phone for a moment before locking it, fingers lingering over the device. Alex, watching her closely, raised an eyebrow. "Good news?" Kath nodded. "Holloway¡¯s moving on. He¡¯s taking his daughter somewhere safe." Alex exhaled, smirking faintly. "So, miracles do happen." Kath huffed a small laugh. "Guess so." She looked over at him¡ªand, for the first time in a long while, allowed herself to feel something close to relief. ... The caf¨¦ was warm, the air thick with the scent of roasted coffee and faint vanilla. Emma wasn¡¯t here for the atmosphere, though. She just needed caffeine and five minutes where no one needed anything from her. Then the door chimed. She didn¡¯t look up. Not at first. Then- "Black coffee. No sugar. I like to keep my suffering pure." If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Her lips twitched. The barista, completely unfazed, punched in the order. "That¡¯ll be three-fifty." "Three-fifty for a cup of existential dread? Damn, inflation really hits where it hurts." Emma shook her head. What a dumbass. The guy paid, took his coffee, and without hesitation, walked toward her table. "Mind if I sit?" Emma finally looked up. Blond. Handsome in that annoyingly effortless way. Confident. Too confident. "I feel like you¡¯re gonna sit regardless of my answer." "Correct." He pulled out the chair. "But I like to pretend I have manners." She snorted. "That¡¯s a weird strategy." "Surprisingly effective." "Debatable." He took a sip of his coffee, exhaled dramatically. "Ah, yes. Just as bitter as my life choices." Emma huffed a quiet laugh. "Do you always talk like this?" "Only when I want to impress someone." He shot her a grin. "Is it working?" She rolled her eyes. "Barely." "Then I¡¯ll try harder." "That sounds exhausting." Julian smirked. "Not for me. I thrive under adversity." Emma took a slow sip of her coffee. "You thrive on being a pain in the ass?" "Exactly." He set his cup down. "Julian Vale. Lawyer." "Emma." She paused. "Law enforcement." Julian¡¯s brows lifted slightly. "That explains the posture." Emma blinked. "Excuse me?" He gestured vaguely. "Straight back. Eyes constantly scanning. The slight hesitation before answering personal questions. You¡¯re either a cop or a spy, and I feel like spies don¡¯t hang out in caf¨¦s." Emma smirked. "So you make a lot of assumptions about strangers?" "Only when I¡¯m right." "And if you¡¯re wrong?" "That¡¯s never happened before." Emma laughed. "You sound like a nightmare in court." Julian grinned. "My opponents say the same thing." She leaned back. "So, what do corporate lawyers actually do all day? Argue about¡­ I don¡¯t know, taxes?" "Sometimes. But mostly, I get paid an absurd amount of money to make rich people slightly richer." Emma snorted. "That¡¯s depressing." "Oh, incredibly. But it pays for my overpriced coffee habit." "You could just make coffee at home." "See, that¡¯s where we differ. I have no interest in being responsible." "Shocking." Julian smirked. "You judging me, Officer Emma?" "Always." "Good. I love an audience." Emma shook her head, but the conversation kept flowing easily, unexpectedly. They bounced from topic to topic, half-serious, half-banter. Pineapple on pizza? "Absolutely not." "Objectively correct opinion." Best way to get out of an awkward conversation? "Fake a phone call." "No, no, you gotta go full method, start whispering, ¡®they found the body¡¯ and walk out." Somewhere between arguing about movie endings and debating the existence of "good" billionaires, she checked the time. An hour had passed. She blinked. "Shit. I need to go." Julian leaned back, completely relaxed. "Fair. I won¡¯t keep you. But if I see you here again, I might just take it as fate." "Or coincidence." "Same thing, depending on how much wine you¡¯ve had." Emma smirked. "See you around, Julian." "You will." And for some reason, she believed him. It was almost evening by the time Emma stepped back into the office. The air was still thick with the smell of stale coffee and printer ink. Kath was sitting at her desk, lazily flipping through some paperwork, her boots propped up on the edge. She looked up as Emma walked in. "You look... weirdly happy," Kath said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "What happened?" Emma shrugged, hanging up her coat. "Nothing." Kath snorted. "Yeah, see, the problem with that is, I know your ''nothing'' voice. And that was definitely not a ''nothing'' nothing." Emma sighed, rolling her eyes as she sat down. "It¡¯s just¡ª" She hesitated. Kath¡¯s eyebrows shot up. "Oh my God. Is this, wait. Hold on." She sat up straighter, pointing at Emma. "Did you meet someone?" Emma scoffed. "Why would you assume that?" Kath leaned in, grinning. "Because you have the face of someone who just had an unexpectedly pleasant conversation with an attractive stranger. Am I wrong?" Emma pressed her lips together. "...Shut up." Kath gasped. "I knew it!" She clapped her hands together. "Okay, tell me everything. Who is he? Where did you meet him? Is he single? Should I be planning a wedding?" Emma groaned, rubbing her temples. "You¡¯re unbearable." Kath smirked. "And yet, you love me." Emma huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "It¡¯s not even a big deal. We just talked. That¡¯s all." Kath wiggled her eyebrows. "Mm-hmm. And are you seeing him again?" Emma hesitated. Kath gasped again, even louder this time. "YOU ARE!" Emma buried her face in her hands. "I regret everything." Kath cackled. "Too late now. You¡¯re in deep, my friend." Emma groaned, but despite herself, she couldn¡¯t stop the small smile from creeping onto her face. Emma stretched as she stood from her chair, suppressing a yawn. "Aren''t you coming?" she asked, glancing at Kath, who was still focused on her screen. Kath shook her head. "No, I need to check something." Emma gave her a lazy salute. "Alright. I''ll go first." "Byeee," Kath said, barely looking up. Emma sighed and stepped out into the cold evening air. --- The house was silent when she opened the door. "I''m hooome," she muttered, her voice low, tired, lacking its usual edge. No response. Of course not. She lived alone. Emma dropped her keys onto the counter with a dull clink and moved to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients without much thought. Two eggs. Beef. Beans. Juice. A banana. It was more food than she really needed, but cooking at least filled the silence for a little while. When she finished eating, she rinsed her plate and went to shower. The warm water helped loosen her tense muscles, but it didn¡¯t wash away the lingering fatigue clinging to her mind. She changed into her favorite pajamas, pink with tiny hearts, a white cat¡¯s face printed on the chest. It was a little ridiculous, but no one was around to judge. The living room was dim except for the glow of the television. She picked a movie at random, some clich¨¦ romance she normally hated. Predictable dialogue, overdramatic confessions, a couple who had everything fall perfectly into place. She scoffed at the absurdity of it, but for some reason, it made her a little sad. People had someone to share their space with. She didn¡¯t. Not that she cared. Not that she¡¯d ever admit she cared. Eventually, she got bored. The movie wasn¡¯t helping, so she shut off the TV. And that was when she saw it. The book. "The Fallen Angel." The case was exhausting. Mentally draining. But at least it kept her busy. She picked up the old book, running her fingers along its worn spine before flipping through the pages. The ink was faded, the words fractured like something half-lost to time. One passage stood out: "When you stare at the eye, do you ever wonder what it sees in you?" Emma frowned. That line never made sense to her before. It still didn¡¯t. Maybe the future would tell. She kept flipping. And then- Something caught her eye. A passage buried within the text, barely legible, its meaning slipping through the cracks of comprehension. "A beast behind the veil does not know its chains. To love it is to hold the key. To free it is to forget why the door was built." There was something unsettling about the words, but the more she read them, the more they twisted into something else. Something softer. "A beast behind the veil does not know its chains." Wasn¡¯t that just longing? "To love it is to hold the key." Wasn¡¯t that just trust? "To free it is to forget why the door was built." Wasn¡¯t that just... love? Emma¡¯s lips parted slightly, but she didn¡¯t know what to say. It sounded romantic. It wasn¡¯t. At least, she didn¡¯t think it was. She closed the book, shaking her head. Maybe she was just tired. Chapter 25 - Daniel & Sylvia Lane Emma woke up in the morning, drunk her coffee and left the house to her destination. The flower shop smelled like damp earth and wilting petals. The bell jingled softly as Emma stepped inside, scanning the rows of bouquets with an absent gaze. "White lilies," she said to the florist without hesitation. "Two arrangements." The woman nodded, wrapping them in thin, crinkling paper. Emma handed over the cash without waiting for change. She knew the way by heart. The cemetery was quiet. The grass was damp from last night¡¯s rain, leaving muddy patches along the worn stone pathways. The headstones stretched before her like forgotten memories, some polished, others cracked and nameless. She stopped in front of two graves. Daniel & Sylvia Lane. No words of love engraved. No poetic inscriptions. Just their names. Their lifespans. A beginning and an end. Emma knelt, brushing away stray leaves that had gathered on the cold marble. She placed the lilies down carefully, adjusting them until they looked perfect. Then, she sat back on her heels, staring at the names. "Not a car accident. Not a murder," she muttered to herself. "That would¡¯ve been too simple, huh?" No, her parents had suffered something worse. They had been alive when they died. Daniel Lane was a man who believed in things. He believed in honesty. In truth. In fighting against the system no matter the cost. He was a journalist, one of the good ones. The kind who dug too deep, asked the wrong questions, and refused to back down. Sylvia Lane was different. She didn¡¯t believe in truth, she believed in survival. She begged him to stop. She saw the signs before he did. The late-night calls. The strange cars parked outside their house. The whispers at his job that turned into threats. And then, one day, Daniel Lane lost his job. Not in a dramatic, career-ending scandal. No. Just¡­ suddenly. The calls stopped coming. His friends stopped returning messages. Doors that were once open slammed shut. Then came the debts. The lawsuits. The mysterious accusations that painted him as something he wasn¡¯t. And then- finally, the silence. By the time Emma was fifteen, she no longer recognized them. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Daniel, once a man with fire in his eyes, became hollow. He sat in the dark, rereading old notes, convinced there was something he had missed. Sylvia, who had once been the strongest person Emma knew, shrank into someone fragile, always glancing over her shoulder, flinching at every knock on the door. They weren¡¯t murdered. They were erased. Until one day, Daniel took his own life. And Sylvia followed a year later. Emma had found them both. She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. She wasn¡¯t here to mourn. She had stopped mourning a long time ago. She was here because it was routine. Because even after all these years, she couldn¡¯t bring herself to break it. Emma stood, dusting off her jeans. "See you next time," she murmured before turning away. And just like that, she left it behind. By the time Emma stepped into the office, she was someone else entirely. The slight slouch in her shoulders was gone. Her face held the same relaxed smirk she always wore. Her confidence was effortless, like she had no doubts about anything in the world. She was Emma Lane again. "Morning, losers," she called out. Kath rolled her eyes. "You¡¯re late." "I was buying flowers." Kath paused, her brow furrowing slightly, but Emma had already moved past her. She wasn¡¯t going to elaborate. Instead, she dropped into her chair and grabbed the first case file from the stack on her desk. "Alright, what do we got?" Kath handed her a folder. "Simple one. Man found dead in his apartment. No signs of forced entry. No defensive wounds. Just¡­ dead in his bed." Emma flipped through the report. "Cause of death?" "Unknown. No fingerprints on the scene. No drugs in his system. No bruises, no wounds. Nothing." Emma¡¯s brows lifted. "So, what, he just died?" Kath shrugged. "That¡¯s what it looks like." Emma leaned back, tapping her fingers against the desk. "That¡¯s what it looks like," she echoed. "But that¡¯s not what happened." She pulled up the crime scene photos. The apartment was neat. No signs of a struggle. The victim, a man in his early forties, lay in bed with his arms resting at his sides. Peaceful. Too peaceful. "Neighbors hear anything?" Emma asked. "Nothing unusual," Kath replied. "No screams. No struggles. Just¡­ silence." Emma¡¯s eyes narrowed. Silence. Something wasn¡¯t right. She scanned the room in the photographs. It was clean. Immaculate, even. But there was something off. Something missing. Then she saw it. The nightstand. There was a faint outline of dust where something should have been. "Killer took something," Emma murmured. Kath leaned over. "What?" Emma pointed. "See that space? Something was there. And now it¡¯s not. Whatever it was, it was important enough to take but not obvious enough for anyone to notice." She flipped to the victim¡¯s personal records. "Divorced. No kids. Worked in finance. Lived alone." Her fingers drummed against the paper. "Tell me, Kath. What do people always keep by their bedside?" Kath frowned. "Alarm clocks?" Emma smirked. "Or¡­" She turned the page. Bingo. "A phone," she said. "Where the hell is his phone?" Kath blinked. "It wasn¡¯t logged as evidence." "Exactly," Emma said, standing. "That¡¯s because whoever killed him took it. And people don¡¯t take phones unless there¡¯s something in them worth hiding." She grabbed her coat. "We¡¯re going to the apartment." The crime scene was just as sterile in person as it was in the photos. Emma stood by the bed, scanning the room with sharp eyes. "Check the outlets," she muttered. Kath gave her a look. "What are we looking for?" "A charger." Kath frowned. "What?" Emma turned to her, smirking. "Think about it. Guy lived alone. No signs of forced entry, no struggle. That means he probably knew whoever came in. Maybe even let them inside. So if someone took his phone, it wasn¡¯t a robbery, it was to hide something." Kath sighed but checked the outlets anyway. And then- "...Shit," Kath muttered. She held up a charger. No phone. Emma grinned. "Bingo." She paced the room. "Alright. So let¡¯s assume our guy had something on his phone. Something bad. Maybe blackmail, maybe evidence of something illegal. Whatever it was, someone wanted it gone. But here¡¯s the problem." She pointed at the bed. "He¡¯s lying too peacefully. If he saw something threatening enough to get him killed, he wouldn¡¯t have just¡­ gone to sleep. He would¡¯ve been terrified." Kath¡¯s eyes widened. "Wait. Are you saying he was killed before he even knew what was happening?" Emma nodded. "Exactly. No fear. No struggle. No marks." Kath¡¯s breath hitched. "Poison?" Emma shook her head. "Would¡¯ve shown in the autopsy. No, this was something clean. Something that doesn¡¯t leave a trace." She turned back to the bed. The pillow. The missing phone. Then, the realization hit. She grinned. "Suffocation." Kath¡¯s eyes widened. "Whoever did this," Emma continued, "sat right beside him, took the pillow, and pressed down. No noise. No struggle. Just¡­ sleep." Kath exhaled. "Gosh." Emma smiled. "And now we just need to find out who wanted him silent." She turned to Kath. "Let¡¯s go check that apartment." Chapter 26 - A Dirty Apartment The apartment smelled like nothing. Not bleach. Not rot. Just¡­ nothing. The kind of neutral, lifeless scent that came from a place that hadn¡¯t truly been lived in for a long time. Emma stepped inside first, scanning the space with sharp eyes. The living room was spotless, pristine furniture, a polished coffee table, cushions perfectly aligned on the couch. A small dining table sat against the wall, completely spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. It didn¡¯t look like a crime scene. It barely looked like anyone lived here at all. Kath stepped in behind her, whistling low. "Well, that¡¯s unsettling. This place is cleaner than my entire apartment." Emma didn¡¯t respond immediately. Her gaze swept over the room, calculating. She crouched slightly, running a gloved finger across the dining table¡¯s surface. No dust. Recently wiped. She straightened, adjusting her gloves. "Let¡¯s check the other rooms." Kath nodded and followed as Emma pushed open the bedroom door. And the second they stepped inside, the illusion shattered. The air here was different, stale, dusty. The kind of atmosphere that clung to forgotten places. The bed was unmade, sheets tangled in a careless mess. An old sweatshirt was crumpled on the floor. The nightstand covered in dust, had a faint outline where something used to sit. Kath clicked her tongue. "Well, that¡¯s a hell of a contrast." Emma moved to the closet, sliding the door open. Inside was a chaotic mess. Clothes piled on the floor, hangers knocked askew. Some shirts still had their price tags on them, never worn. She turned, scanning the space again. Everything outside was spotless. Everything inside was neglected. Emma exhaled. So the victim only cared about appearances. She walked to the bathroom, same story. The sink? Cluttered with used razors and half-empty bottles. The shower? Water stains. Uncleaned tiles. But the guest towel? Perfectly folded. Never used. She nodded to herself. "So, he cleaned only what he thought mattered." Kath frowned. "That means two things. Either he was depressed, or he was expecting someone important." Emma didn¡¯t answer right away. Instead, she walked back out. Emma stepped back into the living room, her gaze drifting toward the kitchen, and that¡¯s when she saw it. Unlike the other hidden areas of the apartment, the kitchen was spotless. The countertops were wiped down. The sink was empty. No dirty dishes left out. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. It was too clean. Kath followed her gaze. That¡¯s when she noticed it too. Two clean plates, neatly placed in the drying rack. Two glasses. A takeout bag in the trash, from a high-end restaurant. Kath let out a low whistle. "Okay, now that¡¯s weird. That place is expensive as hell." Emma arched an eyebrow. "You recognize the restaurant?" Kath nodded. "Yeah, it¡¯s one of those places that charge you twice the price for half the food. I went there once for a case dinner. Guy really splurged if he ordered from them." Emma exhaled. "Then we need to check something." Kath was already pulling out her phone. "I¡¯ll call the restaurant, see if they can confirm the order." She stepped away, making the call while Emma stared at the two plates. She had suspected the victim had a guest. But if the order was for two full meals¡­ that would be proof. Kath returned a few minutes later, looking satisfied. "Got it." Emma crossed her arms. "Tell me." Kath smirked. "The order was placed at 8:37 PM. Two full meals. beef steak, roasted vegetables, and imported juice. Expensive stuff." Emma hummed. "Did they say if it was a delivery or pickup?" "Delivery," Kath confirmed. "They dropped it off at 9 PM." Emma tilted her head, processing. 9 PM. Two meals. A clean kitchen. A guest that no one saw leave. Emma looked at Kath. "Alright. Now we know for sure, he wasn¡¯t alone that night." Kath nodded. "So, what¡¯s next?" Emma¡¯s expression darkened. "Simple. We find out who the hell his guest was." Back at the office, they went through the victim¡¯s personal files. Emma sat at her desk, flipping through a thick notebook they had taken from the apartment. Pages were filled with scribbled names, dates, headlines. At first glance, it looked like a normal journalist¡¯s notes. But something felt off. Kath leaned over. "Recognize anything?" Emma frowned. "Not yet." Then she stopped. Her eyes flicked to a name. Then another. Then another. Kath noticed. "What is it?" Emma¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. "This guy¡­ wasn¡¯t an investigative journalist." Kath frowned. "Then what was he?" Emma turned the notebook around, tapping one of the pages. The notes weren¡¯t about politics, crime, or deep investigations. They were about celebrities, executives, and CEOs. Kath¡¯s brows furrowed. "Wait¡­ he was a paparazzi?" Emma nodded. "Looks like it. But¡­" Her fingers flipped to the last few pages. And her stomach tightened. The last notes were not about celebrities. They were about corporations. Kath leaned closer. "Why the hell would a paparazzi be investigating corporate corruption?" Emma¡¯s fingers drummed against the desk. "That," she murmured, "is what we need to find out." Emma sat back in her chair, legs propped up on the desk, flipping through the victim¡¯s notebook while Kath typed furiously on her laptop. "We have a list of names," Kath muttered. "But half of these companies are just¡­ normal. Pharmaceuticals, banking, retail chains. Standard corporate greed, nothing unusual." Emma ran her fingers along the edge of the notebook. "That¡¯s the thing about corruption, it¡¯s not flashy. It hides in plain sight." Kath sighed. "Alright, let¡¯s go through them one by one. Maybe something jumps out." She cleared her throat and read aloud. ** First Company: Callahan Enterprises Industry: High-end real estate development. Kath scrolled through the company records. "CEO is Anthony Callahan. Rich asshole. Standard corruption¡ªbribes, evictions, fraud." Emma shook her head. "That¡¯s small-time. He¡¯s just another crook in a suit." "Next?" ** Second Company: Solis Biotech Industry: Pharmaceutical research. "Big pharma," Kath muttered. "CEO is Janet Solis. They were involved in a price-fixing scandal a few years back. But nothing too shocking." Emma arched an eyebrow. "Any ties to politics?" "Some, but minor. They donate to both parties evenly. Smart move, keeps them untouchable." Emma clicked her tongue. "Not our guy. Keep going." ** Third Company: NX Dynamics Industry: Military tech and weapons manufacturing. Kath frowned. "Okay, now this one¡¯s interesting." Emma leaned forward. "Why?" "NX Dynamics supplies surveillance equipment to government agencies. They¡¯ve been sued multiple times for illegal data collection. Some people think they help politicians spy on rivals." Emma smirked. "Wouldn¡¯t be the first time." "But here¡¯s the thing, our victim wasn¡¯t a political journalist. He was a paparazzi. He followed celebrities, rich socialites, executives. Why would he care about government surveillance?" Emma exhaled. "Good point. Move on." ** Fourth Company: Kang Industries Industry: Imports, exports, investments, and¡­ whatever keeps them rich. Kath¡¯s voice slowed. "...Now this one¡¯s weird." Emma immediately perked up. "Talk to me." "CEO is Kang Joon-suk. Businessman. Investor. And deep in the pockets of half the politicians in this city." Emma¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Define ''deep.''" "Kang donates millions to political campaigns. In return, he gets tax breaks, deregulation, and government contracts. The guy is basically untouchable." Emma frowned. "That¡¯s not unusual, though. Corporations buy politicians all the time." "Yeah, but listen to this, Kang funds shady political groups, lobbies for laws that benefit no one but himself, and¡­" Kath¡¯s fingers stilled on the keyboard. Emma raised an eyebrow. "And what?" Kath¡¯s voice lowered. "...And every journalist who tried exposing him either vanished or ruined their careers." Emma¡¯s breath slowed. That was it. That was the connection. Her father, Daniel Lane, had his career erased. This paparazzi had his life erased. Both were digging into something. Something that led back to Kang. Emma sat up straight. "What exactly does Kang Industries do?" "Technically?" Kath scoffed. "Imports. Exports. Trade deals. Investment portfolios. A lot of vague words that mean ''making money by any means necessary.'' The guy has hundreds of shell companies moving money in circles. No one knows exactly what he does." Emma nodded slowly. "...That¡¯s because he¡¯s hiding something." Kath exhaled. "So what now?" Emma leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers against the armrest. "If our victim was looking into Kang¡­ that means Kang is our next lead." Kath sighed. "This is gonna get messy, isn¡¯t it?" Emma smirked. "Messy is the fun part." Emma flipped back through the victim¡¯s notes, scanning the last few pages again. Her eyes landed on one particular line. A scribbled sentence. "It¡¯s all connected. Lane was right." Emma¡¯s stomach clenched. Her father¡¯s name. Written in the notes of a dead paparazzi. She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to stay calm. Kath noticed the change in her expression. "...Emma?" Emma slowly closed the notebook. "We¡¯re not just looking into Kang," she murmured. Kath frowned. "What do you mean?" Emma looked at her. "This case isn¡¯t about a dead man. It''s about a cover-up" She exhaled. "This is about finishing what my father started." Kath placed a comfortinghand on Emma''s shoulder, hoping that''d would somehow make her feel better, and a way to tell her she''s not alone. Chapter 27 - A Ghost The city looked different at night. Emma watched the skyline from the passenger seat, the neon lights smearing against the glass as Kath drove through the narrow streets. Everything felt sharper in the dark, shadows stretched long, the air carried a bite, and the silence between buildings was thick with unspoken things. The apartment investigation had given them something solid. Kang Joon-suk. A name that carried weight, power, and a trail of ruined lives behind it. Emma had spent years chasing ghosts, picking apart scattered clues, trying to piece together what had happened to her father. And now, finally, she had something real. A connection. A direction. Kath turned the wheel, glancing at Emma. "You¡¯re quiet." Emma didn¡¯t look away from the window. "Thinking." "Thinking about Kang?" Emma nodded. "And the paparazzi. He knew something." Kath sighed, eyes flicking to the road. "Yeah. And now he¡¯s dead." The words settled between them. Heavy. Undeniable. Emma shifted, her fingers tapping against her thigh. "We need to figure out what he found. If he got too close to something, then there¡¯s a trail. Somewhere." Kath exhaled. "Alright. Where do we start?" Emma pulled out the victim¡¯s notebook, flipping through the pages again. "The restaurant," she muttered. "He ordered food at 8:37 PM. If he had company, maybe the staff remembers something." Kath arched a brow. "You really think they¡¯d notice one guy out of hundreds of customers?" "Not the customers," Emma said. "The delivery driver." Kath blinked. Then a slow grin spread across her face. "Damn. That¡¯s smart." Emma gave a small shrug. "If the driver remembers anything about who opened the door, we might have a lead." Kath nodded. "Alright. We head to the restaurant first thing in the morning." Emma closed the notebook, exhaling. The city lights blurred past, washing everything in artificial color. This was just the beginning. --- The restaurant was sleek, modern, and expensive enough to make Kath roll her eyes the second they stepped inside. "Rich people and their overpriced nonsense," she muttered under her breath. Emma ignored her, walking straight to the front counter. The hostess barely glanced at them, her attention fixed on the sleek tablet in her hands. "Welcome to Le Clair. Do you have a reservation?" "We¡¯re not here to eat," Emma said smoothly, flashing her badge. "We¡¯re investigating an incident related to a recent delivery order. We need to speak with your staff." The hostess¡¯s expression flickered-annoyance, hesitation, then forced politeness. "One moment." She turned and disappeared through a side door. Kath leaned against the counter, scanning the restaurant. "Place is fancier than I thought." Emma didn¡¯t respond. She was already running through the possibilities in her head. If the driver had seen the guest, this would be easy. If not, they¡¯d have to start digging deeper into the victim¡¯s habits. The door swung open again, and a middle-aged man in a crisp uniform stepped out. His name tag read Manager. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Good morning," he said, voice smooth and practiced. "I understand you have some questions about a delivery?" Emma nodded. "Yes. We need to speak with the driver who handled the order for apartment 6B last night." The manager¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. "I¡¯m afraid our drivers don¡¯t disclose customer information-" Kath cut in. "It¡¯s a murder investigation." That shut him up. The manager hesitated, glancing between them, then let out a small sigh. "Wait here." He turned and disappeared into the back. Kath smirked. "I love watching them squirm." Emma didn¡¯t react. Her eyes were locked on a security camera mounted above the entrance. If the restaurant kept footage, it might show who picked up the order. Another angle to consider. A few minutes later, the manager returned with a young man in a delivery uniform. He looked nervous, shifting on his feet as he approached. "This is Joon," the manager said. "He handled the delivery in question." Joon glanced between them, eyes darting to their badges. "Uh¡­ am I in trouble?" Emma kept her voice calm. "Not at all. We just need to know if you remember anything about that delivery." Joon scratched the back of his neck. "Uh¡­ yeah. I mean, it was just a normal drop-off. I knocked, the guy opened the door, took the food, paid, and that was it." Emma studied him. "You¡¯re sure?" Joon hesitated. "I mean¡­ yeah?" Kath folded her arms. "You hesitated. That means there¡¯s something." Joon looked uncomfortable now. His fingers fidgeted at his side. Emma leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "If you remember something, even the smallest detail, it could help us. Was anyone else there?" Joon swallowed. "I- I don¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t see anyone else inside. But¡­" Emma waited. Joon bit his lip. "There was something weird about how he answered the door." Emma¡¯s gaze sharpened. "Explain." Joon shifted again, glancing at the manager, who sighed and waved a hand. "Go ahead," the manager said, already looking annoyed. Joon nodded quickly, turning back to Emma. "Okay, so, normally when people answer the door, they just¡­ open it, right? But this guy, he only opened it a little. Like, just enough to grab the food." Emma¡¯s fingers tapped against her badge. "Like he was hiding something." Joon nodded. "Yeah. And he looked¡­ kinda nervous? He kept glancing behind him, like he was checking something." Kath and Emma exchanged a look. Emma looked at the delivery guy, "did you see anyone else with him?" "I only saw him for a second, but... I wish I hadn''t. His eyes-" Joon swallowed hard, his face pale. "I don¡¯t even know how to explain it. It was like looking at something that... shouldn¡¯t exist."" Something was wrong, something was defently wrong with this case. "He was tall and had a big body, not fat, just big." The delivery guy said. That meant someone had been inside for sure. Kath started the car. The city lights blurred as they sped off, heading toward their next lead. Somewhere in the darkness, answers waited, ones they might not like. Miles away, in a dimly lit office, Nathaniel Dorsey turned a page. The clock on the wall ticked in steady intervals, the only sound in the dimly lit office besides the soft shuffle of paper. Nathaniel Dorsey sat behind his desk, same man from the press conference, The weight of his position, the scrutiny of the press, and the pressure from those above him all simmered beneath his calm exterior. Knock. Knock. Knock "Come in" Caroline Wu entered, her steps measured, a thick folder tucked beneath her arm. She closed the door behind her and approached his desk, setting the file down without a word. Dorsey glanced up. "You have something?" Caroline nodded. "It¡¯s about the Veritas Foundation and Elizabeth¡¯s Juvenile Center." That got his attention. He straightened slightly. "Go on." Her voice was even, measured. ¡°After looking into the Veritas Foundation, we found nothing. Whoever was there is gone, and all the records were either erased or burned.¡± Dorsey exhaled through his nose. Not unexpected. He leaned back slightly, gaze shifting to the thick case files stacked beside him. ¡°This remind you of anything?¡± Caroline hesitated. Then, ¡°Elizabeth¡¯s Juvenile Center.¡± His fingers tapped once against the desk. Two facilities, both collapsed within days of each other. Both hidden in plain sight. Both using children. ¡°They were training them,¡± he said. ¡°Brainwashing them. Turning them into weapons.¡± Caroline nodded. Caroline flipped to another page. "Detectives Emma Lane and Alex Carter. They were investigating a routine homicide, an apartment murder. But that case led them to Veritas. Then, just days later, Veritas led them to the juvenile center." ¡°Did they find anything else in Veritas?¡± Caroline hesitated before flipping a page on her clipboard. ¡°They had a tape. Security footage of people fleeing. One of them was a girl¡­ holding an infant.¡± Silence stretched between them. Dorsey¡¯s fingers tapped against the desk again, slower this time. Something about this doesn¡¯t sit right. Caroline shifted under his scrutiny. ¡°What is it, sir?¡± He exhaled. ¡°A facility that size doesn¡¯t just get discovered by accident. Someone wanted it found.¡± She frowned. ¡°You think it was a setup?¡± ¡°I think it¡¯s too convenient.¡± He leaned forward, voice lowering slightly. ¡°But that¡¯s not the real problem.¡± Caroline tilted her head. ¡°Then what is?¡± Dorsey studied her. Then, carefully, ¡°Tell me again, where did they get their information?¡± She hesitated. ¡°Sir¡­ what do you mean?¡± ¡°Emma Lane and Alex Carter. Everywhere they go, they uncover massive truths. How?¡± His gaze sharpened. ¡°Are they just that good?¡± Caroline straightened her clipboard. ¡°Yes, sir. They¡¯re the best.¡± Dorsey held her stare. ¡°And their source?¡± She hesitated again. ¡°¡­They said they were just following a boy.¡± The words landed heavy. Dorsey¡¯s fingers stilled. ¡°Say that again.¡± ¡°They said it all started because of a boy,¡± she repeated. ¡°They went to rescue him, found a dead woman in his apartment... his adopyive mother, and that led to everything else. They just followed where he went.¡± A slow, creeping cold settled in his gut. ¡°Did they notice anything odd about that boy?¡± Caroline shook her head. ¡°Yes, sir. They said he was deeply connected to the case.¡± Dorsey¡¯s jaw tensed. So, they weren¡¯t following leads. They were following him. His voice was quieter now. ¡°Anything else?¡± Caroline nodded. ¡°They also had a book.¡± His eyes flickered. ¡°A book?¡± ¡°Yes, sir. It¡¯s in Emma Lane¡¯s hands right now.¡± A long pause. Dorsey¡¯s fingers flexed. ¡°Where did they get it.¡± They said they found it in a dead man''s house, who was also neighbor of the boy Cain and the missing boy James Emanuel. Dorsey stopped tapping his finger midair. "Also," she continued. ¡°They said it led them to Veritas.¡± Caroline swallowed. ¡°And there was¡­ an anonymous letter. It was found in Alex Carter¡¯s hand while he was in a coma.¡± A lingering cold filled the room. Dorsey exhaled sharply. No. Caroline frowned. ¡°Sir?¡± Something settled in his mind. A slow, creeping realization.¡°They weren¡¯t following him.¡± His voice barely broke above a whisper. Caroline blinked. ¡°??¡± His next words were ice.¡°They were being led by him or perhaps someone bigger.¡± A silence so heavy it felt suffocating. Caroline¡¯s fingers gripped the clipboard. Dorsey¡¯s gaze flickered. Dorsey asked, "you know his name?" She nodded. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± A brief pause. ¡°His name is Cain Verhoven.¡± Dorsey exhaled. A slow nod. "Cain Verhoven." He let the name settle, rolling it over in his mind like a weight he couldn''t put down. His next question came slow. ¡°And where is he now?¡± Caroline hesitated. ¡°¡­We don¡¯t know, sir.¡± Dorsey¡¯s eyes darkened. ¡°Find out.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± She turned and exited the office, heels clicking against the floor. Dorsey remained where he sat, staring at the faint glow of the desk lamp. A child. A pattern. A case that kept unfolding with each step forward. And no. They didn¡¯t solve it. They were played. Someone was pulling the strings. His fingers curled into a fist. Then he muttered, irritation barley contained. "The ones who think they walk in the light should remember, shadows are only cast when something stands in their way."