Unknown killer

Chasing shadows

[U.S.A]

A lady could be seen running through the relentless rain, glancing over her shoulder as if desperate to escape something unseen. She wasn’t merely trying to outrun the rain. Suddenly, she collided with a large block of stone, her left leg striking it hard, causing her to tumble to the ground. Blood began to trickle down her leg, but she ignored the pain, gritting her teeth as she crawled, the rough surface tearing at her knees. Still, she kept looking back, fear etched across her face.

Then, she collided with something solid. Turning her head slowly, she found herself face-to-face with a masked figure. Panic surged through her, and she jerked back, sobbing as she crawled away.

“Please don’t kill me! Please!!” she pleaded, but her cries fell on deaf ears. The masked figure stepped closer, one deliberate step at a time. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife that gleamed ominously in the dim light.

“Somebody help!” she shouted, her voice strained, knowing full well the futility of her cries. The masked figure quickened his pace, transforming his walk into a run, not even glancing her way. He darted past her like a wraith, the knife extended low. She gasped, feeling a sharp pain as blood gushed from her throat. She fell face down, the world fading around her.

The masked figure paused, then returned, the knife now slick with crimson. He carved a mark into her neck, wiped the blade on her clothing, and placed the knife between her lifeless palms before walking away.

Next Day (Morning)

(Crime Scene)

A yellow tape marked the perimeter of the crime scene, a stark warning proclaiming "Do Not Cross." Police officers redirected curious onlookers, ensuring the investigation remained undisturbed. Medical technicians and forensic specialists meticulously examined the body, the weapon, and searched for any additional evidence. Journalists hovered nearby, snapping photos and peppering the officers with questions.

An SUV pulled up, and two figures emerged—a man and a woman in their late twenties. They approached the scene, but a cop moved to intercept them. Before he could act, his superior intervened. The superior approached, and they exchanged polite greetings.

“Welcome,” Jack said, addressing both newcomers. “Thank you for being here. What information do we have so far?”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Jane interjected, turning to Jack.

“Sure, take these gloves,” he offered, extending a pair towards her with a friendly smile.

“Oh no, thanks. I brought my own, but Max might need them. He’s a carefree guy.” She walked toward the body the medical team was examining, leaving Jack momentarily stunned.

“Sorry for her behavior; that’s just how she is,” I said, casting a glance at the body as well.

“I’ve heard about her. It doesn’t really surprise me,” he replied, shaking his head slightly.

“Back to our discussion,” I said, focusing on Jack again. I pulled out a notepad and pen from my pocket. “This is my custom, even though Jane insists I record everything on my phone. What clues have you gathered so far?”

“The only clue we have is the weapon we believe the killer used. Unfortunately, we don’t know much about her yet because she had no ID on her,” he said, glancing back at the body.

“Has the body been analyzed for any marks or other evidence?” I asked, intrigued.

“Not a full autopsy yet. The woman’s fingerprints were all over the knife, but no one has filed a missing person report,” he explained, his brow furrowing.

“Why did you conclude she was murdered?” I pressed.

“You haven’t seen the autopsy results, have you? A distinctive mark was found on her neck,” he replied, starting to walk toward the body again, and I followed closely behind. I exhaled sharply, and Jane looked my way, shaking her head.

“We hope to work together on this,” I said.

“Same here,” he replied. I shook his hand, my gaze lingering on the lifeless form. “Tell them to hurry; we don’t want crowds seeing her like this.”

After two days, the school where she worked finally filed a missing person report, providing us with leads about her employment and residence. Jane, several officers, and I made our way to Prestige High School. Once there, we informed the students and teachers about her tragic death. The atmosphere quickly shifted to one of mourning as reporters arrived, eager to capture the unfolding tragedy.

After several hours of questioning, we packed up, sorted our findings with the cops, exchanged pleasantries with the teachers, and headed toward our vehicle.

“Today was exhausting,” I said to Jane, trying to lighten the mood.

“So? What do you want me to do about it?” she replied coldly.

“Let’s grab a bite to eat. What do you think?” I suggested, watching for her reaction.

“Like I care,” she retorted, tossing the keys at me after unlocking the front passenger door. She slid inside.

“Dang,” I clicked my tongue, chuckling as I climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

I drove around town for about an hour, searching for a decent restaurant. The car felt like a pressure cooker; Jane's complaints filled the air. Even though I had provoked her on purpose, I didn’t enjoy the atmosphere. Deep down, I couldn’t help but find it amusing.

“Finally, we’re here!” I exclaimed, pointing at the large restaurant ahead.

“Whatever, don’t pull this crap on me again,” she yelled.

“Hmmm.” I parked the car, turned off the engine, and we exited, heading inside. We placed our orders and waited patiently for the waiter to bring our meals.

“Jane, what did you think about today’s interrogation?” I broke the silence that had settled between us.

“Do we really have to do this now?” she replied, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

“What else can we talk about? What else do you know besides work? You’re not exactly social, are you?” I teased.

“And you’re always so dramatic,” she shot back, her eyes narrowing.

“What’s wrong with you? And if I’m not, how many times do I have to explain myself to you?” she asked, directing her full attention at me.

“Okay, but I’m bored now.”

“Oh, here comes our meal.” The waiter approached, setting our dishes on the table.

“Thank you,” Jane said, smiling at the waiter.

The waiter nodded in response and walked away, leaving me bewildered by her sudden change in demeanor.

“Wait, what? Did you just say that…?”