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Thunder rumbled, shaking the glass windows of a luxury apartment, as lightning cracked across the sky, casting brief, jagged shadows on the walls. Inside, however, the world was far removed from the storm outside. The warm glow of dim lights reflected off gold-trimmed furniture, and soft music played in the background, setting the mood. Diba Nduka, A-list actress and the nation's darling, glided across the plush carpet, draped in a silk robe that left little to the imagination. Her every move intended. She cradled two glasses of rum, her lips curving into a seductive smile.
The man, sitting comfortably on her velvet couch, watched her approach. He didn't move, his features still obscured in shadow, but his presence filled the room. Diba felt it, the pull he had on her—like an invisible thread drawing her closer, tempting her with a thrill she couldn't resist.
"Here you go," she cooed, handing him one of the glasses, her voice dripping with allure.
The man took the glass with a slow nod, his fingers brushing hers, sending a shiver up her spine. She sat down beside him, her legs grazing his in an unspoken invitation. She leaned back against the couch, arching just enough to make sure he noticed the curve of her body.
"Rosie told me," she began, her eyes twinkling as they danced over his still-hidden face, "that you've had your eyes on me for a while. I wonder why you never made a move… until now." Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, her lips barely moving as she watched for a reaction.
The man remained silent, his gaze traveling from her legs as she deliberately crossed them, sending waves of anticipation through the room. A sly smile crept across his lips, and without warning, he placed his untouched glass on the table, leaning forward. Diba's breath caught as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against her neck.
"Mmm," she purred, tilting her head back, giving him access as he kissed her skin. The softness of his lips was intoxicating, and her pulse quickened. She reveled in the thrill. His hands remained still, but his lips did all the talking, moving lower, tracing a line down her throat with peppered kisses that sent jolts of heat through her.
"You play hard to get," she teased breathlessly, her fingers grazing his jaw, trying to coax him further.
But then—he stopped. Abruptly. His face lifted from her neck, and something in the air shifted. Diba blinked, confusion flashing in her eyes as she looked at him, unsure of why he had pulled away. "What's wrong?" she murmured, her voice carrying a slight edge now, the seduction faltering.
Before she could react, something sharp bit into the skin of her inner arm. Diba gasped, her hand flying up, holding it instinctively. Her fingers found something cold, metallic—thin, like a needle.
"What—" she started, but the words died on her lips. The room spun, her vision blurring suddenly, overwhelming dizziness gripped her. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears as panic started to bubble up from deep within. She tried to move, but her limbs felt heavy, sluggish. "No... no..." Her voice was slurred now, her words thick like molasses.
The man sat back, watching her dispassionately as her world began to collapse. His face was still hidden in the shadows, but something in his posture had changed. He no longer radiated charm or mystery. Instead, there was something darker, something predatory.
Diba struggled to stay conscious, her mind racing as realization slowly dawned. She had invited the devil into her home, had let herself be seduced by danger, and now—now it was too late.
Her body slumped against the couch, her vision narrowing to a pinprick as the storm outside raged on. As darkness claimed her, the last thing she heard was the soft clink of the man's glass being set down beside her, as if nothing at all had happened.
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Meanwhile, across town, in a modest apartment that was a far cry from Diba's luxurious world, Koa faced a very different storm. The rain battered the windows, but inside, it was Kira's restless state that consumed him. She lay thrashing in bed, drenched in sweat, her nightmares relentless. Koa, sitting beside her, gently dabbed a cold towel on her fevered brow, wiping away the beads of perspiration for what felt like the hundredth time.
Kira stirred, her voice barely a whisper. "No… no…" she muttered, her face twisted in fear, her hands clenching the sheets as if trying to escape whatever haunted her dreams.
Koa's eyes, filled with concern, stayed fixed on her. He brushed damp strands of hair from her face, her head resting in his lap. "Kira, wake up... it's just a dream," he whispered softly, hoping to pull her out of whatever torment had gripped her.
Suddenly, Kira bolted upright, gasping for breath. Her eyes were wide with terror, as if she had seen something unspeakable. A flash of lightning illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls, and in the same moment, she flung out her hand, knocking a glass of water off the bedside table. The crash of glass breaking on the floor echoed in the large room, but Kira seemed oblivious. She swung her hand, which was now bleeding from the shards that had embedded themselves deep into her skin, not feeling the pain.
"Kira!" Koa shouted, his voice full of alarm. He grabbed her arm, trying to hold her steady. "You've cut yourself—look at your hand!" His hands moved quickly, grabbing the nearest piece of fabric— his shirt, which he tore, wrapping it around her bleeding hand to stem the flow of blood. "Damn it, Kira, your hand... you're hurt," he muttered, but Kira barely flinched.
Her mind was elsewhere. "There's another one," she gasped, her voice trembling, her eyes staring past Koa as if seeing something invisible in the room. "Someone… someone important. High-class," she muttered, her voice shaking with fear.
Koa's heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly what this meant. Her visions had never been wrong. "Where?" he asked, his voice tense.
"I don't know," Kira whispered, her breath shaky. "It feels close, but... I can't see clearly. But it's happened."
Koa cursed under his breath while Kira's focus was entirely on the dread that filled her vision.
"Koa, we can't keep ignoring these. There's no time," she said, her voice carrying a desperate edge.
"I know," Koa replied, his mind racing. "But what do we do? Who do we tell? How do we explain... this?" He gestured helplessly, referring to her visions, the impossible knowledge they carried.
Kira locked eyes with him, fear swirling in their depths. "How do we explain knowing about the murders before they happen?" Koa asked, but she shook her head, unable to answer the Question.
Kira sighed, running a hand through her hair, frustration bubbling up. "I don't know," she admitted. "But we can't sit around doing nothing. This is too big to ignore. The Shadow... whoever he is, he's going to kill again. He has to be stopped."
The name "The Shadow" hung between them like a curse. A killer whose strikes were unpredictable, leaving behind mutilated bodies and no leads—only fear. Kira's visions had always come after the fact. If she was right, and she always had been, then someone powerful had died. Koa stood up, pulling her to her feet gently, his hands still wrapped around her injured one. "First, we're getting you to the hospital. You need stitches." His tone was firm. "After that, we'll figure out who to tell. There has to be someone who'll listen."
Kira winced as she rose, clutching her side as if her whole body was aching. "I don't think we have time for that," she whispered, her eyes darting to the window, watching the storm rage outside. "We have already wasted too much time."
Koa's jaw clenched. She was right.
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Back at Charles Street Police Station, chaos reigned. Phones rang non-stop, officers hustled from desk to desk, and murmurs of a potential lead on The Shadow had spread like wildfire. The press were relentless in their pursuit for a scoop only adding to the frenzy. Kamdi, hunched over his desk, sighed deeply as he picked up yet another call.
"Charles Street Police Station," Kamdi answered, his voice tinged with exhaustion.
For a moment, there was only silence on the other end. Then, a soft voice, quiet yet chilling spoke. "You have to hurry. There's been another murder... and it's someone important this time."
Kamdi sat up straighter, eyes narrowing as he tried to process the words. "Who is this? How do you know—?"
But the line went dead before he could finish. He stared at the phone, a cold sense of dread creeping into his gut. Was that a witness? Or could it have been The Shadow himself?
Before he could dwell on it, Nonso came rushing over, his normally composed face painted with alarm. "We got another call... there's been another murder."
For a brief moment, the precinct seemed to freeze. Officers stopped in their tracks, glancing at one another as the gravity of the situation settled over them like a dark cloud. Another life taken, and they were still scrambling to catch up.
"Who called it in?" Kamdi asked, standing abruptly and grabbing his coat.
"The housekeeper," Nonso replied, already heading for the door. "Ibe and Frost will meet us at the scene. They've been pulling data from the last victim's phone but are on their way now."
As they jumped into the car, Kamdi couldn't shake the feeling of unease from the mysterious call. He replayed the voice in his head, wondering if they had just missed an opportunity. Who was that?
The rain was a torrential downpour by the time they arrived at the luxury apartment. Officers were everywhere, some directing traffic, others shielding forensic techs from the media vultures that had already started circling. Kamdi and Nonso ducked under the crime scene tape, the wet wind slapping at their faces as an officer handed them gloves and overshoes.
Nonso glanced at the young officer standing nearby. "What's the situation?"
"The housekeeper found the body thirty minutes ago," the officer explained, leading them inside. "She said she was supposed to take the night off but came back early because she forgot something. That's when she found… her."
The difference between the opulent living room and the gruesome crime scene wasn't lost on either of them. The apartment reeked of expensive perfume, but beneath the surface, the air was thick with death. Forensic teams were busy dusting for prints and photographing the scene. On the glass coffee table, two glasses stood—one still full, the other with a faint lipstick stain. A white pillow lay discarded on the floor, adding an eerie domesticity to the grim scene.
"Any signs of a struggle?" Nonso asked, taking it all in.
The officer shook his head. "Not that we can see, sir."
Kamdi approached the table, picking up the full glass. He sniffed it briefly before handing it off to the forensic team. "Bag this. Both glasses. I want a full workup," he instructed. He glanced at Nonso, the tension in his voice barely contained. "The Shadow's never struck inside someone's home before. This could be different."
Nonso nodded, his face grim as he scanned the room again. "Where's the body?"
The officer's face tightened as he motioned toward the bar area. "Over there, sir."
Kamdi's breath caught as they approached. Lying just beyond the bar was the lifeless body of Diba Nduka, her glamorous aura now reduced to a pale, terror-stricken corpse. Her eyes were frozen wide open, her mouth slack as if she had tried to scream but never got the chance. Kamdi crouched beside her, his hand hovering over her still form.
"Diba?" Kamdi whispered, his voice thick with disbelief. "That bastard got to her?" His tone was a mix of shock and loss, but also something personal. "Man, I loved her movies."
Nonso shot him a sidelong look, unable to hide his disbelief. "What?"
Kamdi shrugged, a touch of bitterness in his voice. "She was in great shape, too."
Nonso rolled his eyes but focused, crouching beside Kamdi to inspect the body. They both noticed something—tiny puncture marks on her inner arm. Blood totally drained. Was this the work of someone else or the Shadow?
"This was him," Nonso muttered, his voice tight.
Kamdi nodded, his face pale. "Is he changing his game?"
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached. Frost and Ibe entered, their faces as grim as the scene before them. Without any preambles, Nonso quickly briefed them on the details, recounting the eerie similarities between this and the other killings but also pointing out how different this one was. Indoors. High-profile. Bold.
When Nonso finished, Frost's voice cut through the stillness, low and commanding. "We need a list of everyone who was in contact with her in the last 48 hours."
Ibe nodded, his mind already racing. "The media will blow this up."
They all knew the score. The Shadow was getting bolder, more unhinged. Whoever he was, he had escalated. And the press were hot on their heels, they were running out of time.
As the team made their way out of the apartment, the rain hammered down harder, matching the pounding in their heads. Kamdi clenched his jaw, the investigation felt like a noose tightening around his neck. If they didn't crack this case soon, The town of Mmiri would lose their trust in them.
Nonso glanced at his partner as they got into the car, the windshield wipers battling the downpour. "The chief's going to have our heads for this, you know."
Ibe sighed, his eyes fixed on the dark streets ahead. "Yeah. But that's the least of our worries now. We've got a town to save and a killer to catch."
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Kamdi pressed the button for the elevator, glancing at Frost, who stood next to him with his usual stoic expression. The detective folded his walking stick and removed the dark glasses hiding his eyes, revealing his glazed white pupils.
"You think there's something we missed at the crime scene?" Kamdi asked, his tone low, Diba's murder still hanging over them like a thick fog.
Frost shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable. "I haven't thought of that yet."
Kamdi nodded thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the illuminated elevator panel as they ascended. "Have you had another vision?"
There was a long pause. Frost's lips tightened before he finally spoke. "No. Not since the first victim in Mmiri."
Kamdi exhaled, his brow furrowing as he remembered the grisly case that had started it all. Back at headquarters in Samfia City, it began with the disappearance of an eight-year-old girl. When they found her, her head was missing, and her face... God, the face. Eyes, nose, mouth, ears—all carefully taken care of and placed next to her decapitated body like some twisted offering.
The haunting part? Frost had seen the girl's severed head in a vision before they found her. He'd written it off as a disturbing coincidence. But then came the vision of a heart being ripped out, and two days later, a body in Mmiri was discovered—missing its heart. After that, the visions had skidded to a halt.
"Your visions stopped after the first victim in Mmiri?" Kamdi asked, breaking the silence.
"Yes," Frost replied, his tone flat. "But even at that, something... was pulling me here."
Kamdi's eyes narrowed as the elevator doors dinged open. They both stepped in, Frost walking with an eerie confidence despite his blindness.
"This town is just as bizarre," Kamdi muttered.
Frost's head tilted slightly, listening intently as Kamdi continued. "I think there's someone else here—someone like you. Someone who knows when these murders will happen, just like you do."
Frost stopped in his tracks. He turned his head towards Kamdi, his white eyes seemingly focused on him, though they saw nothing. "Why do you think that?" he asked, his voice as calm as ever but with an edge that Kamdi recognized.
Kamdi crossed his arms. "Someone called the precinct, warned us about Diba's murder before we even got the official call. It wasn't just a tip—it was specific. They knew someone died, and that person was important, and they used a voice changer."
Frost's face remained impassive, but Kamdi could feel his curiosity rising, even if his expression didn't show it. "And?"
Kamdi smirked. "Don't look at me like that, Frost. I'm not completely useless. I could tell it was a man using the voice changer. His tone was soothing, almost like a lullaby."
"A lullaby?" Frost repeated, intrigued.
Kamdi nodded. "It was too calming, too... precise. Whoever they are, they are definitely not your average witness. He knows a lot more."
Frost tilted his head slightly. "Can you recognize the voice if you hear it again?"
Kamdi gave a slight shrug. "Yeah. I think so."
Frost sighed, a subtle sound that Kamdi had only heard a handful of times from his usually unshakable partner. "Good. If this person knows more, we might be able to piece together a better picture of who The Shadow is."
The elevator dinged, signalling they'd arrived at their floor. Both men walked out, their minds racing. They shared a silent understanding: tomorrow would be a critical day. Kamdi fumbled for his keys as they reached their apartments—yes, they lived in the same complex as Diba. It was a strange coincidence, but in this line of work, nothing felt like a coincidence anymore.
As Kamdi unlocked his door, he glanced back at Frost, who was already disappearing into his own apartment. "You think this'll break open soon right?"
Frost paused for a moment at his door, his pale eyes staring straight ahead. "I hope so. For all our sakes."
Kamdi gave a nod, though he doubted Frost could see it. "Night, Frost."
"Night, Kamdi," Frost replied, and with that, both men turned in for the night, knowing that tomorrow the storm would continue to rage—both outside and in their hunt for The Shadow.
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Kamdi and Frost stood before the massive oak door, its dark wood etched with age and wear, exuding an ominous air. They'd planned to be back at their apartment by now, unwinding from a long, grueling day chasing leads. But duty had other ideas. A crucial call from Ibe changed everything—the pathologist had finished Diba's autopsy, and even more important, they had found a clue on Somi's phone. A single text and a picture. So now, instead of heading home, they found themselves standing here, hoping for answers.
Kamdi raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles touched the wood, the door creaked open. A woman appeared, her beauty arresting. She had a regal presence, her sharp eyes filled with suspicion as they lingered on Frost, who stood beside Kamdi with his sunglasses on and cane in hand.
"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice cool and controlled.
Kamdi cleared his throat and quickly flashed his ID. "Good evening, ma'am. I'm Detective Kamdi, and this is my partner, Detective Frost. We're from the Charles Street Precinct. We'd like to ask Koa Bonu a few questions if he's home."
Her eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of her son, but softened just a bit when she saw their credentials. "Is my son in some sort of trouble?" she asked, her tone still guarded but now edged with concern.
Kamdi offered a reassuring smile. "Not at all, ma'am. We just have a few questions. We believe he might have known a Miss Somi Kechi, a victim in our investigation, and we think he could help us."
Before the woman could respond, a young man appeared in the doorway beside her. Kamdi's breath caught for a moment. The boy—Koa—was striking, his deep tan contrasting sharply with his jet-black hair. His eyes, dark and intense, seemed to pull everything around him into their orbit. Kamdi couldn't help but stare, momentarily lost in his otherworldly beauty. It was a presence that unsettled him in ways he couldn't explain.
"Mom, everything okay?" Koa asked, his tone casual but carrying a hint of suspicion.
The woman turned to her son. "These detectives want to speak with you, Koa," she said, her voice tight with unease.
Koa turned fully toward Kamdi and Frost, and Kamdi had to fight to steady himself. Up close, the boy's beauty was almost too much to bear. Kamdi's mind raced, his pulse quickening with a mix of fascination and something else he didn't want to name. Beside him, Frost's face remained unreadable, but Kamdi knew his partner could sense the shift in the air—he could practically smell Kamdi's sudden arousal.
Frost cleared his throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Ma'am, we'd appreciate a few minutes of your son's time. It's important."
Koa's eyes flickered toward Kamdi, and for a brief moment, Kamdi wondered if the boy could sense what was happening beneath his calm exterior. Could Koa feel his attraction? That seemed impossible—unless Koa wasn't what he appeared to be. Was he a Para?
"You can come in," Koa said, his voice smooth but tinged with something Kamdi couldn't quite place. The young man stepped aside, allowing them to enter the house.
Kamdi walked in first, his eyes scanning the elegant space as they moved through the foyer. He could feel Koa's presence behind him, that magnetic energy, and it made concentrating nearly impossible. Kamdi's heart pounded in his chest as the sweet, intoxicating scent of Koa's cologne reached him—a mix of something floral, citrus, and dangerously alluring. Without realizing it, Kamdi let out a soft, guttural growl.
Frost, sharp as ever, stepped forward, cutting between Kamdi and Koa. "Apologies," he said smoothly, his voice low. "My partner's had a rough day."
Koa raised an eyebrow but said nothing, gesturing for them to sit in the lavish living room. Kamdi sank into the plush couch, trying to collect himself, forcing his eyes away from Koa's graceful movements as he crossed the room. The boy's mother appeared briefly to offer drinks, which they politely declined, before excusing herself.
Once they were seated, Koa settled into a chair across from them, crossing his legs casually. "So," he began, his voice calm and controlled, "what's this about Somi Kechi?"
Kamdi, still struggling to regain his composure, fumbled for the recorder in his pocket. Frost noticed and stepped in, keeping things on track. "She has sadly passed away. We have some questions about your relationship with Miss Kechi," Frost said, pulling out his phone and sliding it across the coffee table. "Do you recognize the person in this photo?"
Koa leaned forward slightly, his eyes scanning the screen. A slow, almost amused smile curled at the edges of his lips. "Well, I'd be an idiot not to recognize myself, wouldn't I? And I really didn't know her"
Kamdi's breath hitched. That smile—playful, teasing—was unnerving. Frost, unfazed, continued. "Swipe to the next image," he instructed.
Koa swiped, revealing the text message found on Somi's phone. His expression remained unreadable, as if none of this phased him in the slightest.
"You said you didn't really know her," Frost pressed, his voice taking on a firmer edge. "But this message seems to suggest otherwise."
Koa let out a soft chuckle, his voice like silk, disarming in its charm. "Detective," he said, leaning back in his chair, "you're assuming a lot from one message and a picture. Is that enough to call it a relationship?" His eyes sparkled with amusement as if he were toying with them.
Kamdi couldn't take it anymore. The tension in the room—the way Koa's presence stirred something primal inside him—it was too much. His mind raced, searching for something, anything, that could explain why this boy had such a strange effect on him. Without warning, Kamdi saw Koa staring at him again he asked himself for the second time. Could Koa be a para? Could he somehow sense Kamdi's thoughts?
Frost, sensing Kamdi's internal struggle, kept the conversation moving. "We're not here to accuse anyone," he said calmly. "We're just trying to understand the nature of your connection to Somi. Can you tell us when you last saw her?"
Koa's eyes were still fixed on Kamdi, holding his gaze for a long, unnerving moment a tinge of playful tease hiding in his pupil. "A few weeks ago," he said finally, his voice soft but with an undertone that made Kamdi's stomach churn. "At school. Nothing more, nothing less."
Kamdi forced himself to focus, biting the inside of his cheek till he could feel the metallic taste in his mouth to stay grounded. Something wasn't right here. It felt like Koa was playing with them, but why? Was he hiding something? Or was this just a game to him?