Silent pursuit

Chapter 6: The hidden guardian

She had to calm her mind, to understand the chaotic thoughts that wouldn't calm down. Fedola snatched her coat and walked out, feeling the chill of the evening air on her face. The hospital hallways were now more peaceful, with the busy atmosphere of the day fading away. While heading to the garden, she spotted Travis and Anita talking far away. After pausing, she changed direction and started walking the opposite way. She wasn't prepared to confront them, not at the moment. Rather, she felt compelled to explore the hospital records. It was a decrepit structure, hidden behind the main hospital, seldom frequented except by employees searching for ancient documents. Fedola walked into a poorly lit room, where the smell of dust and paper overwhelmed her senses. Putting on gloves, she searched through the shelves for any items related to the recent murders. She came across a newspaper clipping which she pulled out, She scanned the headline with her eyes: Suspected serial killer strikes again in brutal slaying at local park. Fedola experienced a moment of heart palpitations. The article depicted the most recent killing, including disturbing details that made her feel sick. However, what really grabbed her interest was the name - Temi. The identical name that had been written on the wall in blood caused Fedola to furrow her brow, attempting to recall where she had previously encountered that name. It felt familiar, almost like a memory from long ago. Continuing to read, the words merged together as her thoughts sped up. The connection was present, just beyond grasp. She could sense it nearly, resembling a shadow hovering on the outskirts of her thoughts. She replaced the clipping and took out a different file, her hands shaking. There had to be some explanation present, something to clarify the chaos. While flipping through the pages, she accidentally dropped a photograph which landed face up on the floor. Fedola grabbed it, her breath getting stuck in her throat. It was a photograph of herself, captured in the garden of her house. Her appearance portrayed youthfulness and joy. Beside her stood a man with his arm resting on her shoulders. Her dad. Tears welled up in Fedola's eyes as she gazed at the photograph. It had been years since she had last seen her father, ever since he vanished without a trace. Memories of her childhood, the endless summer days playing in the garden, and her father's laughter filled her mind.

However, upon closer inspection, she observed something peculiar about the image. A figure was in the shadows in the background, partially hidden. The face was hidden, but the outline was easily recognizable. Observing from the shadows, a tall figure in a hood made Fedola's heart beat faster. How come this photo is found in the hospital records? Why was that person observing her? Her hands trembled as she returned the photograph to the file. She needed to figure out the situation. She needed to grasp the link between the killings and her personal history. At the same time, a man sat in a dimly lit room in a peaceful suburban area, holding a phone. Although older, his hair had specks of gray now, yet his eyes remained sharp and attentive. He gazed at the picture on his desk, the identical picture that Fedola had just come across. Years ago, before things went bad, he had acquired it. He had anticipated Fedola would begin inquiring on this day. He had desired to postpone it, to protect her from the truth. However, he realized that he couldn't remain hidden indefinitely. He had to step in as the killings resumed, so he called a number on his phone while waiting for the call to go through. "It is I," he stated upon a voice responding at the opposite side. She's nearing. We must exercise caution. I will handle it.”The man ended the call, his face displaying a serious expression. He was willing to go to any lengths to keep his daughter safe, even if it meant keeping the truth hidden from her. Long ago, he had made a commitment to protect her from the dangers of the lurking darkness. However, he knew that eventually, the truth would surface, and he dreaded the day when Fedola would discover her true identity. Meanwhile, Fedola carried on with her inquiries at the hospital, her mind filled with endless questions. She was aware of a promising lead, but the puzzle pieces remained in disarray. She required additional details, more hints to solve the puzzle. She dedicated hours sifting through the documents, searching for any links to the killings. Despite her tired eyes and aching body, she was determined not to quit. She needed to uncover the truth, regardless of how much it could hurt. Throughout the night, Fedola felt herself being attracted to a particular file that appeared to be anomalous. A symbol with a strange, elaborate design that she couldn't identify was on it. She cautiously opened it, her fingers shaking. Contained within were a sequence of images, with each one becoming increasingly unsettling. The pictures depicted instances of brutality, of gore and mortality. As Fedola looked at them, her stomach twisted with fear and her eyes grew wide in shock. Suddenly, she came across a photo of herself with blood on her mouth, standing near a body. Fedola was shocked and dropped the file. She had the sensation that she was about to vomit. She felt the room whirling around her, grasping the table's edge in an attempt to regain balance.

She softly said, "No." "It's impossible... I can't believe it..." Yet, the proof was right in front of her, impossible to ignore. There was no denying the truth. Fedola was linked to the murders. If the photo were authentic, she would be held accountable for the murders. She collapsed to the ground, crying uncontrollably. What made her do such a thing? In what way could she possibly be considered a monster? She couldn't remember the killings, and had no memory of ever causing harm to anyone. However, the images told the truth. The truth was clearly stated. Fedola's mind quickly tried to comprehend everything. Is it possible that she is sleepwalking? Was there a force within her that assumed control, something beyond her ability to manage? Remembering the bizarre dreams, nights of waking up feeling disoriented and confused, she heard the archives door creak open, heart pounding, Fedola glanced up. A shadow enveloped the room, and she caught sight of the person from the picture standing in the doorway. She recognized him, and her eyes widened. "Dad?" she breathed, her voice shaking. The man entered the light, his face showing concern. "He whispered 'Fedola'," he said in a hushed tone. "We must have a discussion."