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"Stop it!" A soft voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade. Both detectives turned sharply toward the staircase, startled by the sudden interruption. A girl stood there, pale and fragile but with an undeniable strength in her posture. Her resemblance to Koa was uncanny, as if she were a mirror reflecting his features.
"Kira..." Koa's voice softened instantly as he sprang to his feet, rushing to her side. All traces of his earlier arrogance vanished as he wrapped a protective arm around her, lifting her effortlessly. She clung to him, resting her head on his chest, her fragile frame sinking into the comfort of her brother's embrace.
"Why are you out of bed?" Koa whispered gently, forehead pressed against hers, his voice laced with concern. His entire demeanour shifted in an instant from aloof to tender.
She smiled faintly, her exhaustion apparent. "Stop teasing the nice men," she chided gently, though her voice carried a note of exhaustion. Her eyes, however, told a different story as they landed on Frost. She shivered, a visible chill running through her body.
Kamdi couldn't help but feel a strange tension build in the room. There was something about this family that he just couldn't put his finger on.
Kira's voice broke the silence again, this time addressing the detectives. "Hello, Detectives. I'm Kira Bunu, Koa's twin," she introduced herself, pausing to catch her breath. "Whatever my brother said—it's true. He and Somi were just schoolmates. As for the photo... that was me, not him. I was wearing his jacket that day. We look alike, and it's an easy mistake to make."
Kamdi blinked, trying to process the unexpected revelation. "Wait... so you were the person Somi had a crush on?"
"Yes, Detective," Kira confirmed, her voice steady despite her frail appearance.
Kamdi glanced at Frost, trying to reconcile the information. "But according to Somi's friend, the person she liked was... a boy?"
Kira sighed softly, her eyes filling with a quiet sadness. "That's what Somi told people. But the truth is, I had stepped in when she was being bullied over her sexual orientation a few months back. After that, she... developed feelings for me." Her tone was gentle, almost apologetic. "I couldn't return those feelings. It wasn't mutual."
Kamdi was stunned, a strange sense of déjà vu creeping over him. This was their first time meeting, but Kira's voice, her presence, felt oddly familiar. As he stood there, he noticed Koa placing his hand on his sister's arm, as if silently asking her to stop talking.
Kira shook her head, smiling at her brother's protective gesture. "It's okay, Koa," she reassured him softly, turning her attention back to the detectives. "My instincts tell me that these gentle men will do their jobs right. And besides..." Her eyes flicked toward Kamdi, a glint of amusement playing on her lips. "I can see why anyone would think of my brother first. He is, after all, a walking fatal charm. Isn't that right, Detective?"
Kamdi's heart skipped a beat at the way she aimed the question directly at him. His mouth went dry as he struggled to maintain his composure. Why did it feel like she could see right through him, peeling away the layers of professionalism he'd built up over the years?
Meanwhile, Frost, who had been silent for most of the exchange, found himself increasingly uneasy. Ever since Kira had appeared, the air felt heavier, hotter—almost electric. Each word she spoke sent a strange current through him, a sensation that was both deeply unsettling and oddly magnetic.
He shifted uncomfortably, his instincts telling him not to engage too much with her gaze. Whatever it was about her... it felt painful?
Kira settled beside her brother on the couch, her delicate frame almost swallowed by the plush cushions. Even in her weakened state, she commanded attention. There was something ethereal about her, like she carried both grace and danger in equal measure. Her eyes flicked between the two detectives, measuring them, calculating.
"Detectives," she began, her voice more forceful this time, "I understand why you're here. But I assure you, neither Koa nor I had anything to do with Somi's death. I overheard you breaking the news to Koa earlier. We were merely classmates. She was a kind and sweet girl, but we weren't close."
Kamdi nodded slowly, still processing everything. "We're not accusing you of anything, Kira. We're just trying to gather all the facts."
Koa's expression softened as he gazed at his sister. "She's telling the truth. I didn't really know Somi beyond seeing her in school. She kept to herself."
Frost, finally finding his voice again, spoke carefully. "We appreciate your cooperation. We're just following the evidence wherever it leads."
Kira's lips curved into a small, almost knowing smile as her eyes briefly met Frost's. "Of course, Detective," she said softly. "You're only doing your job."
Kamdi shifted uncomfortably, still unable to shake the unsettling feeling he had about these two. It all felt... too out of place. And yet, he could not place why he was feeling that way.
After a few more minutes of routine questions, Kamdi and Frost finally wrapped up their inquiries. "Thank you for your time," Frost said, nodding at the twins. "We appreciate your cooperation."
Koa stood, helping his sister to her feet, his hand resting gently on her back as they escorted the detectives to the door. "We just want to see justice for Somi, like you do," Koa said, his voice reverting back to the arrogance from earlier. "We hope you find whoever's responsible."
Outside, the cool evening air hit Kamdi like a refreshing breeze, clearing his head from the suffocating intensity of Koa's intoxicating smell. He ran a hand through his hair, still processing the strange encounter. "That... was intense and disturbing," he muttered under his breath.
Frost said nothing as they walked back to their car; both men were lost in their own thoughts, each grappling with the strangeness that is the Bunu twins.
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Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Detectives Ibe and Nonso stood in the morgue, surrounded by the cold, sterile air that sent chills down their spines. Before them lay a lifeless body, shrouded in white sheets.
"Look at the marks on the cubital fossa," the pathologist said, his voice breaking the stillness as he pointed to the inner part of the corpse's arm. Ibe and Nonso leaned closer, their eyes narrowing as they spotted tiny puncture wounds.
"Those marks were made by a butterfly needle," the pathologist explained. "Whoever killed her knew she had small, fragile veins and took care to minimize her pain. This wasn't the work of a maniac; it's too clean. They didn't want her to suffer unnecessarily. She was likely already fully unconscious when they drew her blood, but here's the cruel part—I suspect she regained consciousness about five to ten minutes before she died, aware of what was happening to her as she was bled dry."
Nonso's brow furrowed, the implications gnawing at him. "You said the killer minimized her pain. Why, then, did he let her regain consciousness? Was it the same for the other victims?"
The pathologist nodded, his enthusiasm creeping back into his voice. "I may be wrong, but I think the killer was annoyed at something. Maybe she did something that irritated him while they were together. A kind of punishment, perhaps? That's my hypothesis anyway. Also, I was hoping you'd ask about the other victims. Follow me."
He led the detectives to a nearby desktop computer, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. The screen flickered to life, displaying a series of images and data. The pathologist adjusted the monitor so the detectives could see more clearly.
"I almost missed it, but luckily, I found this," he said, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.
"What are we looking at, Doc?" Ibe asked, squinting at the screen, trying to make sense of the data.
"Propofol," the pathologist replied, leaning in closer, "and a very rare herb indigenous only to Mmiri in the 16th century, known as Ike Osisi.
The gravity of his words settled in as he turned to face the detectives. "The victim we're examining had an extremely rare blood type—RH-null, also known as Golden Blood. It's the rarest in the world, with fewer than fifty people known to have it. When the previous body came in, I detected Propofol and this herb, but I couldn't make sense of it at the time because the other victims didn't have both of these agents in their system. But now I understand."
Nonso's mind raced as he tried to piece it all together. "What are your conclusions, Doc?"
"Propofol is a fast-acting anaesthetic that's quickly eliminated from the body, usually within 24 hours. The first victim, whose tongue was ripped out, was found three days after her death, and the second, who was missing a heart, was discovered a week later. By then, the drug was almost undetectable. But with these last two victims, who were found within 24 hours, I identified the drug clearly. I went back and checked tissue samples from the earlier victims just to confirm my hunch, and I was right—the killer used both Propofol and the herb on them to both sedate and numb them."
Ibe leaned forward, intrigued. "And the Ike Osisi herb? What's its significance?"
The pathologist paused. "The herb is known for its analgesic properties; it contains compounds that can have a numbing effect when applied to the skin. Here's the kicker—it's been extinct for over four hundred years. so nobody knows what it is, which was what threw me off, but luckily, through lab tests and some hoki poki on the internet, I found out what the herb does. The question is, why is a supposedly extinct herb here, and who would have access to it now?"
The room remained quiet as the pathologist's revelation sank in. Ibe and Nonso exchanged a glance, the implications of these new revelations paving a way
"Doc, you mentioned the killer had to know about the last victim's thin veins," Nonso pressed, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and dread. "They must have been aware of her rare blood type, too. If they drained her blood because it's so precious, why take the organs from the other victims? Was it for the same reason?"
The pathologist shrugged, his enthusiasm dampened by the grim nature of the question. "That's something only the killer can answer, Detective. I can only tell you what the bodies reveal. Meanwhile, I'll forward the rest of my findings to the station"
Nonso let out a frustrated sigh nodding his head, the walls of the morgue feeling as though they were closing in on him. "So, what's our next move?''
Ibe straightened, determination flashing in his eyes. "We need to find out who has access to both Propofol and Ike Osisi. That's a starting point."
As they exited the hospital, the sky grumbled ominously, thick clouds rolling in. Ibe glanced at Nonso, his voice low. "The damn weather these days just screams Ominous."
Nonso nodded, looking back at the hospital with a mix of trepidation and resolve. "No lies there, partner."
They stepped into the chill of the evening air as the clouds gathered above.
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Oke slammed the files onto the table with a force that made the papers scatter, some sliding off the edge. His face was a mask of frustration, and the room around him fell into a tense silence. His subordinates stood at attention, swallowing hard as they felt the brunt of his anger. This was the second time he had done this, and it was clear he was reaching his breaking point.
"I can't believe this bullshit!" Oke's voice thundered through the room, breaking the heavy silence. He scanned the faces of those around him, but no one dared to meet his gaze.
"Does this make any sense to you?" he demanded, though it wasn't a question meant for anyone in particular. His words hung in the air, unanswered, as his team remained frozen, unsure of what to say.
He kicked the chair he had been sitting in, sending it careening across the room. It collided with the wall with a loud bang, causing a few of his subordinates to flinch. Oke had been investigating every possible lead who had come in contact with Diba in the last 48 hours. The case was high-profile, one that had the attention of the entire nation, and there was no way he was going to let anyone else, especially Ibe and Nonso, get in his way. Shadow, the elusive and dangerous figure at the centre of this chaos, was his to catch. And he had vowed not to slip up.
But the investigation had taken a frustrating turn, and Oke's patience was wearing thin. He had just returned from an interview with Rosie, Diba's personal assistant, and the conversation had left him more bewildered than ever. Rosie, who should have been a key witness, had provided nothing but a bizarre and disjointed account of events.
According to Rosie, the last person she had seen with Diba was a man—a stranger—who had approached her with a request to meet Diba. The strange part was that she couldn't remember anything about this man. His name, his face, his appearance—everything about him was a blank in her mind. But what was even more unnerving was how she had introduced this mysterious man to Diba without any hesitation, something completely out of character for her. Rosie was known for being fiercely protective of Diba, as a PA to an A-list actress with a massive following, including the inevitable contingent of crazed fans. Introducing a random person to Diba was not something she would ever do under normal circumstances.
Rosie described feeling an overwhelming compulsion to comply with the man's request as if she had been stripped of her free will. She knew something was off the moment she found herself obeying him without question, but she couldn't stop herself. It was as if someone had taken control of her body and mind. The way Diba had seemed familiar with this person only added to the surreal nature of the encounter. Rosie had left them alone, her mind completely blank, until she later heard from the housekeeper that Diba had died.
Oke's mind raced as he tried to make sense of Rosie's story. Her account was bizarre, to say the least. How could someone exert such control over another person, erasing their memory and compelling them to act against their nature? It was the kind of thing you'd expect to see in a horror movie, not in real life.
He paced the room, his anger giving way to deep contemplation. The usual methods of investigation—interviews, evidence collection, logical deductions—seemed to raise more questions than answers in the face of such inexplicable events. But Oke was not one to back down from a challenge. If anything, the mysterious nature of the case only fueled his determination to get to the bottom of it.
"Think, Oke, think," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. There had to be something, some clue hidden in the madness that would lead him to the truth. He thought about Shadow. Was it possible that this man Rosie described was somehow connected to Shadow? Could Shadow possess some kind of influence over people, something beyond the ordinary?
Oke stopped pacing and turned to face his team, who were still standing in uneasy silence. "We need to go over this again," he said, his voice calmer but no less intense. "There's something we're missing. I want every piece of information we have on Shadow reviewed. Every detail, no matter how insignificant it might seem. We need to figure out how he's doing this."
His team nodded, relieved to have a clear directive. They quickly gathered around the table, sorting through the scattered files, pulling up data on their computers, and beginning the arduous task of re-examining everything they knew about Shadow.
Oke watched them for a moment, then returned to his own thoughts. Shadow had already taken too many lives, and the stakes were getting higher with each passing day. If they didn't catch him soon, who knew what he would do next?
As his team worked, Oke's mind drifted back to Rosie's description of the man she had introduced to Diba. He was a ghost, a figure who left no trace, no memory. It was almost as if he didn't exist. But he did exist—Oke was sure of that. And if he could find this man, he would be one step closer to finding Shadow.
The minutes ticked by as the team combed through the evidence. Oke leaned over the table, scrutinizing the files in front of him, Like a clue would suddenly pop out from them.
"Boss," one of his subordinates called out, breaking his concentration. "I think I found something."
Oke looked up, his focus shifting to the young officer who had spoken. The officer was holding a printout, his expression a mix of excitement and apprehension.
"What is it?" Oke asked, crossing the room in a few quick strides.
The officer handed him the printout. "It's from the forensic analysis. There's a substance found in Diba's bloodstream. It's not something we've seen before. The lab's still trying to identify it, but they think it might be related to some kind of psychotropic compound. It could explain Rosie's behavior."
Oke's eyes widened as he scanned the report. This was the breakthrough they needed. If they could identify the compound, they might be able to trace it back to whoever was using it—and that could lead them straight to Shadow.
"Get the lab on the phone," Oke ordered, his voice filled with renewed energy. "I want to know everything they find out about this compound."
As the officer hurried to make the call, Oke felt a spark of hope ignite within him. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together.
The following hours were a blur of activity. Oke's team worked tirelessly, piecing together clues, following up on leads, and coordinating with the forensic lab, waiting for the results to identify the mysterious compound found in Diba's bloodstream.
The phone rang two hours later, and Oke snatched it up immediately. It was the forensic lab.
"We've identified the compound," the lab technician said. "It's a rare, highly controlled substance with potent mind-altering effects. It's used in some experimental therapies, but in the wrong hands, it can be used to manipulate and control behavior."
Oke's grip tightened on the phone. "Can you trace where it's from?"
"We're working on it," the technician replied. "But it's going to take some time. This isn't something you can just buy off the street. Whoever has access to this is either extremely well-connected or operating outside the law."
Oke thanked the technician and hung up, his mind racing.
"Alright, everyone," Oke called out to his team. "We've got a lead on the compound. I want all our resources focused on finding out where it came from and who could have access to it. We're close— so let's finish this."
The team sprang into action, their determination renewed. Oke watched them for a moment, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. His team had lost sleep for the past couple of weeks, but he trusted that with how good they were, they would close this thing
********************************************
"Lotachukwu…"
The voice was faint, almost a whisper, cutting through the fog of her mind. Everything around her was a blur—disjointed and unclear. But those cruel, relentless words sliced through the haze like a knife.
''Lotachukwu, you are a thorn in my flesh, and there's nothing in this world that could ever make me love you. I sincerely wish you would die already. It seems like the only way we can be rid of you and this curse.''
Tears streamed down her face, unbidden and unstoppable. Each word dripped with pure disgust, piercing her heart like daggers. The pain was worse than any physical torment she had ever endured, an agony that seeped into every fibre of her being. Her body felt heavy, her soul fractured, and her heart shattered into pieces too small to mend.
''Where are you going, my love? Please, don't leave me.''
Her plea was desperate, echoing with a sorrow so deep it reverberated in the hollow spaces of her chest. But the voice faded, leaving her alone in the suffocating darkness, her heart a throbbing, broken mess. She felt herself falling, spiralling into an abyss of despair.
Suddenly, a burst of light pierced the darkness as her eyes fluttered open. The familiar sight of her bedroom came into focus, but the pain remained. Koa sat at the edge of her bed, his hands gently holding hers, fingers caressing her soft cheeks. Concern filled his warm eyes, warming up the icy emptiness inside her.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to her raw emotions. "Everything okay?"
She gasped, sitting up abruptly. Something wet trickled down her face. Confused, she reached up and felt the dampness of her tears. "What's happening to me?" she whispered, her breath shaky, fear threading through every word.
Koa didn't hesitate. He pulled her into a warm embrace, wrapping his arms around her protectively. "Shhh, it was just a dream," he murmured, his voice steady and comforting. "Don't be afraid. You're safe now."
She leaned into his warmth, yet even his embrace couldn't chase away the deep coldness settling in her heart. The dream had felt too real, too visceral. She hadn't seen anything—only heard those haunting voices—that stirred something deep and painfully raw within her.
"The voices… it's back again?" she managed to ask, looking up at Koa, confusion etched on her face. "It always feels so familiar."
Koa frowned, searching her eyes. "Familiar? Kira, it was just a nightmare. Those voices can't hurt you."
" But it feels like more than that," she insisted, her voice trembling. "It felt like… like a memory."
His expression softened, but a shadow of worry crossed his features. "Memories can be tricky. Sometimes our minds play tricks on us when we're vulnerable. But whatever it is, we'll face it together."
Kira wanted to believe him, but a nagging suspicion remained in her mind. "Do you think… it could mean something?" she asked hesitantly. "That voice—whoever it was—I felt like I knew them. Like they cared about me but hated me at the same time."
Koa's grip tightened around her hands. "Kira, dreams are just dreams. They're not real. Anyone who makes you feel that way doesn't deserve your thoughts or your tears."
She nodded, but his logic didn't ease the ache in her chest. "What if it's a warning—a premonition, perhaps, or a clue to something buried deep?'' She pressed, her voice barely above a whisper. She knew that she had always been different, sensitive to things others couldn't see or feel. But with the voices, she just couldn't tell what it all meant.
Koa's expression turned serious as he considered her words. "We'll figure it out together, whatever this is. But I need you to trust me, Kira. You're not alone in this. Whatever happens, I'll be here for you."
Kira leaned into his embrace, comforted by his reassurance. Yet, even as she closed her eyes, she could still hear the voice, the pain, the sense of loss—it all felt too real to dismiss.
"Promise me you won't leave me," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.
"I promise," Koa replied, his voice firm. "I won't go anywhere. I'm right here ready to protect you."
Kira looked up at him, searching his gaze for the strength she needed.
As she held onto his words, Kira felt a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. Together, perhaps they could unravel the mystery that clung to her soul like a shadow.