Chapter 9: The Missing Days
1653 Words
Morning settled quietly over the Silent Eyes headquarters, but the atmosphere inside was anything but peaceful. The revelation from the previous day's investigation had spread throughout every division. Detectives who had once believed they were hunting a serial killer now found themselves confronting a far more disturbing possibility. The victims had not simply been murdered.
They had been experimented on.
The corridors buzzed with hurried footsteps as reports changed hands from one department to another. Officers moved between briefing rooms carrying stacks of documents, while investigators argued over theories that had already begun to collapse under the weight of new evidence.
Lucien sat alone at a long wooden table in the archive room, staring at the ten victim files spread neatly before him.
For nearly an hour, he had read every report without speaking.
Every crime scene.
Every witness statement.
Every medical examination.
Every page ended the same way.
Cause of death: Unknown.
He let out a quiet sigh and leaned back in his chair.
"It still doesn't fit..."
The murders no longer looked random.
But they didn't look connected either.
Ten strangers.
Ten different lives.
Ten different districts.
There wasn't a single relationship between them.
No shared occupation.
No common workplace.
No family ties.
Nothing.
Lucien rubbed his temples before opening the final file again.
"There has to be something..."
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Talking to paper won't make it answer."
Lucien looked up to see Kael entering the archive with a steaming cup of coffee balanced in one hand.
Despite the bandages hidden beneath his uniform, Kael looked considerably better than he had after the sniper attack.
Lucien smiled faintly.
"I was hoping it would."
Kael placed the coffee on the table beside him before looking down at the mountain of paperwork.
"You've been here since sunrise?"
"I couldn't sleep."
"I figured."
Kael pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down.
"So?"
Lucien gestured toward the files.
"I've read every report twice."
"And?"
"Nothing."
Kael picked up one of the folders and skimmed through its contents.
"Maybe there isn't supposed to be."
Lucien frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"The organization wanted us chasing murders."
Kael closed the file.
"They succeeded."
Lucien stared quietly at the table.
"...Then what are we supposed to be looking for?"
Before Kael could answer, the archive door opened once more.
Halt stepped inside.
The room immediately fell silent.
His sharp eyes swept across the table before settling on the dozens of files spread between the two detectives.
"I thought I'd find you here."
Lucien straightened in his chair.
"We're trying to find what connects them."
Halt glanced at the reports.
"And?"
Lucien hesitated.
"I can't find anything."
For a moment, Halt remained silent.
Then he slowly picked up the first victim's file.
Instead of opening the crime scene photographs...
He flipped to the very first page.
Lucien watched curiously.
"...Sir?"
Halt continued reading.
His eyes moved across the page only once before he quietly asked,
"Did either of you read the missing-person reports?"
Lucien blinked.
"The... missing-person reports?"
Kael frowned.
"There aren't any in the murder files."
"No."
Halt closed the folder.
"They wouldn't be."
Lucien looked confused.
"What do you mean?"
Halt placed the file back onto the table.
"When a person goes missing, the report is handled by the Missing Persons Division."
He looked at both of them.
"When that person returns alive..."
"The case is closed."
Lucien nodded slowly.
"...Of course."
"Which means," Halt continued, "if any of our victims disappeared before their deaths..."
"...those records would never have been transferred to the homicide investigation."
The realization struck Lucien instantly.
The murder files were incomplete.
Not because evidence was missing...
But because no one had ever thought to look beyond them.
Halt calmly buttoned his coat.
"Stop looking at how they died."
His voice remained as composed as ever.
"...Start looking at how they lived."
Lucien's eyes widened.
For the first time since the investigation began, he felt as though he had been staring at the wrong half of the puzzle.
Without another word, he pushed back his chair, gathered the ten files into his arms, and hurried toward the archive exit.
"Where are you going?" Kael called after him.
Lucien didn't slow down.
"To the Missing Persons Division."
As the archive door slammed shut behind him, Halt watched quietly for a moment before a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"He finally stopped chasing the answer..."
Kael looked at him.
"...and started chasing the question."
The Missing Persons Division occupied one of the oldest wings of the Silent Eyes headquarters. Unlike the Investigation Division, where detectives hurried through the corridors carrying fresh reports, this part of the building was almost silent. Towering shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed with thousands of aging files whose pages had long since turned yellow. Dust lingered in the air, disturbed only by the footsteps of the archivists who spent their days preserving cases most people had already forgotten.
Lucien pushed open the heavy oak door, drawing the attention of an elderly archivist seated behind a long counter.
The old man adjusted his spectacles before offering a polite smile.
"Detective Lucien... we don't usually see investigators from Homicide down here."
Lucien returned the smile, though his mind was elsewhere.
"I need your help."
The archivist slowly stood. "What are you looking for?"
Lucien placed the ten victim files onto the counter with a heavy thud.
"I need every missing-person report connected to these names."
The old man's eyebrows rose.
"All ten?"
"Every one of them."
He studied Lucien for a moment before nodding.
"It may take some time."
"I'll wait."
Nearly an hour passed.
The archive grew quieter as the afternoon slipped by. Lucien remained seated at a wooden table while file after file was carried from the endless shelves. One by one, the old archivist placed them in front of him until a second stack stood beside the murder reports.
"There," the archivist said, brushing the dust from his hands. "Every missing-person case we could find."
Lucien thanked him before opening the first folder.
Victim One.
A schoolteacher.
Reported missing by his wife.
Returned safely.
Case closed.
Nothing unusual.
Lucien frowned slightly and turned another page.
The report listed the exact date the man disappeared.
Then the date he was found.
Instinctively, Lucien reached for a sheet of blank paper.
He wrote one number.
30 Days.
He didn't think much of it.
Instead, he reached for the second file.
A merchant.
Reported missing while traveling between districts.
Returned without injury.
Case closed.
Lucien's eyes drifted toward the dates.
He quietly counted them again.
"...Thirty?"
He looked back at the first report.
Then the second.
A coincidence.
It had to be.
He opened the third file.
A university student.
Missing.
Returned.
Case closed.
Lucien counted once more.
His pencil stopped moving halfway across the page.
"...No..."
He counted again.
Still...
Thirty days.
The room suddenly felt much quieter.
He reached for the fourth report.
His breathing slowed.
He no longer skimmed the pages.
Every date.
Every signature.
Every statement.
Everything was carefully checked before he finally reached the final line.
Returned after...
Thirty days.
Lucien slowly lowered the file.
His heartbeat had begun to quicken.
One after another, he opened the remaining reports.
Fifth.
Thirty days.
Sixth.
Thirty days.
Seventh.
Thirty days.
His hands moved faster.
Eighth.
Thirty days.
Ninth.
Thirty days.
The final report rested before him.
For a brief moment...
He didn't open it.
His instincts already knew what he would find.
Still...
He unfolded the file.
His eyes searched desperately for the dates.
Then...
He froze.
Thirty days.
Exactly.
Lucien stared at the paper in complete disbelief.
Ten different people.
Ten different lives.
Ten different disappearances.
Every single one had vanished...
For exactly thirty days.
Not twenty-nine.
Not thirty-one.
Exactly thirty.
The coincidence had become impossible.
Without wasting another second, Lucien gathered every report into his arms and hurried through the headquarters. Detectives stepped aside as he passed, barely noticing the urgency on his face.
He reached Halt's office and pushed the door open without knocking.
Kael looked up in surprise.
"Lucien?"
Breathing heavily, Lucien spread the missing-person reports across Halt's desk until every available space was covered with paper.
Neither Halt nor Kael spoke.
Lucien pointed toward the dates.
"I checked every report."
Kael looked down.
"...What am I looking at?"
Lucien didn't answer.
Instead, he handed the first file to Halt.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Halt read each one in silence.
His expression never changed.
Only his eyes.
By the time he reached the tenth report...
The room had fallen completely still.
Halt carefully closed the final folder and placed it on top of the others.
"So..."
Kael finally asked.
"What did you find?"
Lucien swallowed.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"They all disappeared..."
He looked from one file to the next.
"...for exactly thirty days."
Silence.
Even Kael's usual confidence disappeared.
He picked up another report, counted the dates himself, then reached for another.
Thirty.
Again.
Thirty.
Again.
His face slowly hardened.
"That's impossible."
Halt gently placed both hands on the desk.
His gaze swept across the ten files before him.
For months...
The Silent Eyes had investigated ten separate murders.
Ten separate victims.
Ten separate crime scenes.
Now...
For the first time...
He wasn't looking at ten cases.
He was looking at one.
A faint breath escaped his lips.
"We've been reading the story backwards."
Lucien and Kael looked at him.
Halt slowly gathered the missing-person reports into a single pile before placing them beside the murder files.
"We kept asking how they died..."
His eyes settled on the stack of missing reports.
"...when we should have been asking where they spent those thirty days."
The room fell silent.
None of them had an answer.
But for the first time since the investigation began...
They finally knew the right question.
- Writer
