EPISODE 2: Voice of a Thief
822 Words
Elias didn’t go home.
He told himself it was the case.
It wasn’t.
3:17 AM
The precinct was quieter now.
Only the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional cough from a tired officer.
Elias sat alone.
The manuscript lay open in front of him.
I didn’t mean to stay late that night…
He read it again.
And again.
And again.
Not for the story.
For the voice.
There was something buried in it.
Something just beneath the words.
Not the fear.
Not the pacing.
The truth.
Elias leaned forward, rubbing his eyes.
“Say it out loud,” he whispered to himself.
He didn’t know why.
But he did.
“I didn’t mean to stay late that night…”
He stopped.
His voice sounded wrong.
Or maybe…
too right.
Like the words fit too easily in his mouth.
Elias slammed the file shut.
“No,” he muttered.
“Coincidence.”
A knock broke the silence.
Mendez stepped in, holding another envelope.
Same size.
Same white.
Same… wrongness.
“You’re not gonna like this,” Mendez said.
Elias didn’t ask how he knew.
He already did.
“Where’d it come from?”
“Front desk. No cameras picked it up. Just… appeared.”
Elias stared at the envelope.
Didn’t touch it.
“…Open it,” he said.
Mendez raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you—”
“Open it.”
A beat.
Then Mendez tore it open.
Pulled out the paper.
His expression shifted instantly.
“That’s not funny,” Mendez said.
“I’m not joking.”
“Then tell me this is fake.”
Elias stood.
Walked over.
Took the page.
And read.
Name’s Riko.
Not my real name, but it’s what people call me.
I take things. That’s what I do.
Phones, wallets, watches—anything that isn’t nailed down.
Tonight was supposed to be easy.
One drunk guy. Dark alley. Quick grab.
But the alley felt… off.
Elias’ eyes narrowed.
The tone was different.
Completely different.
Rough.
Casual.
Street.
Too quiet.
No cars. No noise.
I almost walked away.
Should’ve walked away.
Elias’ jaw tightened.
I saw him before he saw me.
Standing at the end of the alley.
Thought he was just some guy.
Then he smiled.
Mendez shifted uncomfortably.
“This is sick…”
Not normal smile.
Not friendly.
Like he knew something I didn’t.
Like he already won.
Elias felt it again.
That same cold crawl.
I told him to back off.
He didn’t move.
So I pulled my knife.
Yeah…
That was my mistake.
Elias stopped breathing.
Just for a second.
Because the moment I did—
He stepped closer.
Slow.
Calm.
Like I wasn’t a threat.
Like I was already dead.
Elias lowered the paper slightly.
“…We have a location?” he asked.
Mendez shook his head. “Not yet. But we can—”
“Find it.”
4:02 AM
They found the alley.
Too easily.
“Dispatch got a call,” Mendez said, stepping out of the car. “Anonymous tip.”
Elias didn’t reply.
He was already walking.
The alley was exactly as described.
Narrow.
Dark.
Too quiet.
And at the end of it—
A body.
Male.
Mid-20s.
Knife still in his hand.
Elias approached slowly.
Every step heavier than the last.
He already knew what he would see.
The angle of the body.
The position of the hand.
The expression frozen on the face—
Not anger.
Not pain.
Realization.
“…Riko,” Elias whispered.
Mendez looked at him. “You know him?”
Elias didn’t answer.
He crouched.
Studied the body.
Then he saw it.
In the victim’s jacket pocket.
Another piece of paper.
Elias pulled it out.
Hands steady.
Too steady.
Same paper.
Same ink.
One line.
Told you I shouldn’t have stayed.
Mendez stepped back.
“Okay… okay this is not normal.”
Elias stood slowly.
His mind racing.
Different voice.
Different life.
Different everything.
But the fear—
Identical.
Not just similar.
Not just convincing.
The same.
Like the writer wasn’t imagining fear.
He was reliving it.
Elias turned away from the body.
Looked deeper into the alley.
Into the darkness.
For a moment—
he thought he saw something move.
A figure.
Standing still.
Watching.
Elias stepped forward.
“Hey!”
Nothing.
Just shadows.
Mendez grabbed his arm. “Elias—there’s no one there.”
Elias didn’t respond.
Because for that split second—
He hadn’t just seen someone.
He had felt something.
A presence.
Close.
Too close.
Like someone had been standing right behind him.
Breathing.
Watching.
Remembering.
Elias turned slowly.
Empty alley.
But his heart didn’t slow down.
Because now he knew—
This wasn’t one killer.
This wasn’t even normal.
This was something worse.
Something impossible.
He looked down at the manuscript in his hand.
Then at the body.
And for the first time—
Detective Elias Voss felt something he hadn’t felt in years.
Fear.
- Writer
