The Present – Closer to the Truth
Detective Jonas paced the dimly lit crime scene, his eyes scanning every detail. Something wasn't adding up.
The victim—male, mid-thirties—sat slumped in an old wooden chair, his hands loosely tied behind his back. His throat had been sliced cleanly, one precise stroke. No signs of hesitation. No overkill. Just efficient, practiced execution.
Damien stood by the doorway, silent as he observed Jonas work. He had already examined the body, but he knew better than to rush Jonas when he was in this mode.
Jonas crouched beside the chair, staring at the floor. "Blood splatter pattern is controlled. The cut was made with a steady hand. No hesitation."
Damien nodded. "Whoever did this has done it before."
Jonas exhaled sharply. "Yeah. And that's what's bothering me. This isn't some first-time killer. This is someone who's practiced, someone comfortable with murder."
He stood and moved toward the window, pushing back the cheap curtains. The alley outside was empty. No witnesses, no security cameras—the killer had chosen this place carefully.
Damien stepped forward. "The way the body is positioned… it's staged."
Jonas turned back to him. "Exactly. It's deliberate. The way the head is tilted slightly to the left, the arms relaxed instead of tense—it's almost like the victim was posed."
Damien knew Jonas was dangerously close to the truth. The details were too familiar. Too precise.
"You think this is part of a pattern?" Damien asked, keeping his tone neutral.
Jonas rubbed his chin. "I don't know. But something about this tells me this wasn't about rage or revenge. This was… calculated."
Damien crossed his arms. "No defensive wounds either. He didn't struggle."
Jonas's gaze hardened. "Which means he either knew his killer or was taken by surprise."
Damien already knew the answer. It was both.
Jonas turned toward the doorway, signaling for the forensic team. "We need everything—DNA, prints, fibers. I want to know if we've seen this before."
One of the technicians called out, "Detectives, you'll want to see this."
Jonas and Damien exchanged a glance before walking toward the hallway.
The tech was holding a small card—plain white, no writing. It had been placed on the victim's chest.
Jonas frowned. "What the hell is that?"
The tech handed it over in a plastic evidence bag. "Looks blank, but under UV light…" He gestured toward a portable blacklight scanner.
The moment the light passed over the card, a single word appeared.
"Soon."
Jonas's grip tightened. "Son of a bitch."
Damien kept his expression unreadable, but inside, a thrill ran through him.
Cole was getting bold.
Jonas ran a hand through his hair. "This isn't just a random kill. This is a statement."
Damien studied the card. A warning? A game? A message for him?
He needed to talk to Cole. Now.
Jonas sighed. "Alright. We run this card for any prints, trace the materials, see if we get anything."
Damien pocketed his gloves. "And if this killer is telling the truth?"
Jonas exhaled. "Then we're already behind."