CHAPTER 15：Aftermath and Hidden Threats
602 Words
Smoke curled into the corners, lazily dissipating like it had nowhere to go. Silence settled in the vault—thick, choking. Alicia hugged the box like it was the last piece of herself left in the world.
Lucas pushed himself up, wobbling, every step a struggle. Blood stained his shirt red, but his eyes—green, alert—swept the room. Every shadow could hide Sebastian or Martha. Could… could they really be gone?
“How… how do they just vanish?” Rosalind’s voice trembled, disbelief flickering across her face. Her grip tightened on the baton she’d used moments ago—like it could hold back the chaos itself.
The mysterious officer scowled, stepping in carefully, eyes scanning every inch. “No way they just disappeared into thin air.”
Squatting, fingers brushing tiles, until one—off-color—gave him pause. Press. Slowly. A hollow click. A black hole yawned beneath the floor.
“So… that’s it,” he muttered, standing, serious now. “They slipped through here.”
Alicia’s stomach dropped. “And now? We just… let them go? They’ll wreak more havoc. I know it.” Her hands shook anyway. Couldn’t stop.
He nodded, grim. “Police will pursue. All resources. But—first—keep that box safe.”
Her eyes clutched it like a life raft. Small, innocuous, deadly. How many lives had this little box shattered? How many screams, how many bloodstains?
Lucas limped closer, voice low, calm, firm. “We can’t let it fall into the wrong hands. Maybe… maybe it’s time people knew. About the Enforcers, about me… the werewolves.”
Alicia bit her lip, hesitation tugging her. “Exposed? Really? This could trigger panic. Humans… could they accept it?”
“Better panic than manipulation.” Lucas’s gaze held hers. “People like Sebastian, Martha—they thrive on secrets. We take this risk—maybe fewer people get hurt.”
Rosalind nodded, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “He’s right. And as a journalist… I can help. I’ll report it, show the truth.”
Alicia inhaled, exhaled. Shaky. “Okay… let’s try.”
Then—phone. Vibrates sharp in her hand. Stranger number. Pause. Hesitate. Answer anyway.
“Alicia Morgan… you think getting the box means you’ve won?” Low, chilling. Sebastian.
“Not for long. Police are after you. You won’t escape.” Try to sound calm. Breathe.
He chuckles—cold, amused. “Chase? You’ll never find me. But I can find you. Listen carefully. If you want the people you care about to stay breathing… bring the box. One person. Abandoned factory. Or… next to die? Someone you love.” Click.
Alicia’s legs nearly buckle. Face pale. Hands limp.
Lucas notices, concern flashing. “What happened? Sebastian? What did he say?”
Biting her lip, she repeats it. Every word.
His brow furrows. “Trap. Obvious. He wants you there—steal the box. We don’t walk into that.”
“But… he’ll hurt people I care about…” Panic bites her chest. Vision flickers with faces—Lucas, Isabella, Rosalind… all of them.
Lucas grips her shoulders, firm. “We’ll find another way. With the police and us together—we can protect everyone.”
Alicia nods, but only slowly. Fingers fidget with the corner of her jacket. Heart racing. Trusting—but afraid.
Outside, shadows shift. Doors creak. The city waits, and Sebastian… still out there. Still planning.
The box feels heavier than ever. Small. Simple. Dangerous.
And Alicia—her heart pounding—knows this war isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
- Writer
