Beneath the Surface
1493 Words
The city wore its usual mask of civility—glass towers reflecting sunshine, smiling pedestrians, traffic lights blinking in rhythmic assurance. But Levi had long since learned how to see through the surface, where the rot thrived. And this time, the decay wore a badge and a behavioral analyst’s smile.
For two weeks, Levi had watched Aaron cole.
What started as a quiet hunch had turned into something far more consuming. Jessie had asked him to look into the copycat murders, to see if there was any pattern the others missed. At first, Levi had gone through the motions, assuming it would be nothing—until the murder of Leroy.
That was when the lines began to blur.
The signatures were too clean. Too familiar. And Aaron… Aaron was too close to it all. Too eager to offer explanations. Too quick to dismiss certain leads. He always seemed to know where to look—like someone who wasn’t solving a puzzle, but making sure it stayed intact.
So Levi began to follow him.
Quietly. Carefully. He borrowed an unmarked car from the precinct lot. Switched phones. Timed his shadowing with clinical precision, making sure he was never obvious.
At first, Aaron stuck to his predictable routine—morning jogs, a protein smoothie at the same café, on-site consults at the crime lab, and gym in the evening. It was boring. Almost too boring.
But in the second week, that changed.
Aaron started deviating. Skipping the gym. Taking longer routes home. Parking in random lots without leaving his car. Wandering through parks after dark. Every move looked like a test, like he was trying to draw something out.
And Levi started to wonder—Had Aaron noticed him?
By Thursday, the pit in Levi’s stomach was impossible to ignore.
Rain streaked down the windshield of his borrowed Civic as he sat parked several blocks from Aaron’s apartment. It was almost midnight. Aaron’s lights were on. A low, uneasy buzz filled Levi’s chest.
Then, at 11:17 p.m., the lights went out.
He leaned forward. Waited.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty.
A shadow moved in the alley beside the building.
Aaron. Dressed in a grey coat, the city wore its usual mask of civility—glass towers reflecting sunshine, smiling pedestrians, traffic lights blinking in rhythmic assurance But Levi had long since learned how to see through the surface, where the rot thrived. And this time, the decay wore a badge and a behavioural analyst’s smile.
For two weeks, Levi had watched Aaron Cole.
What started as a quiet hunch had turned into something far more consuming. Jessie had asked him to look into the copycat murders to see if there was any pattern the others missed. At first, Levi had gone through the motions, assuming it would be nothing—until the murder of Leroy.
That was when the lines began to blur.
The signatures were too clean. Too familiar. And Aaron… Aaron was too close to it all. Too eager to offer explanations. It's too quick to dismiss certain leads. He always seemed to know where to look—like someone who wasn’t solving a puzzle, but making sure it stayed intact.
So Levi began to follow him.
Quietly. Carefully. He borrowed an unmarked car from the precinct lot. Switched phones. Timed his shadowing with clinical precision, making sure he was never obvious.
At first, Aaron stuck to his predictable routine—morning jogs, a protein smoothie at the same café, on-site consults at the crime lab, and the gym in the evening. It was boring. It's almost too boring.
But in the second week, that changed.
Aaron started deviating. Skipping the gym. Taking longer routes home. Parking in random lots without leaving his car. Wandering through parks after dark. Every move looked like a test, like he was trying to draw something out.
And Levi started to wonder—Had Aaron noticed him?
By Thursday, the pit in Levi’s stomach was impossible to ignore.
Rain streaked down the windshield of his borrowed Civic as he sat parked several blocks from Aaron’s apartment. It was almost midnight. Aaron’s lights were on. A low, uneasy buzz filled Levi’s chest.
Then, at 11:17 p.m., the lights went out.
He leaned forward. Waited.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty.
A shadow moved in the alley beside the building.
Aaron. Dressed in a grey coat, moving calmly into the night with no umbrella, no hesitation.
Levi slipped the keys into the ignition.
---
He trailed Aaron through winding backstreets until the man stopped at a row of abandoned warehouses just outside the city’s edge. Levi parked two blocks away and killed the lights.
Aaron disappeared inside through a rusted side door.
Levi waited, then followed—quiet steps through puddles, breath fogging in the cold.
The warehouse was quiet. A single overhead light buzzed in the vast space, revealing a lone chair in the centre. Someone sat in it.
Levi approached slowly, instinct flaring.
The figure didn’t move.
As he circled around, he stopped cold.
It wasn’t Aaron.
It was a mannequin. Dressed like him. Same hoodie. Same jeans. A laminated copy of his ID badge clipped to its chest.
Levi’s heart thudded.
Then, a click echoed behind him.
He spun too late.
A sharp pain exploded at the base of his skull—and the world went black.
---
He woke tied to a chair in a dim, concrete room. His arms ached. His mouth was dry. A single bulb flickered overhead.
Then came the footsteps—steady, deliberate.
Aaron Cole stepped into the light.
No charm in his eyes now. Just calculation.
"You’re persistent," he said, voice calm. "Sloppy. But persistent."
Levi didn’t answer. His jaw clenched tight.
Aaron crouched in front of him, examining him like a lab specimen.
"How long?" he asked.
Levi said nothing.
Aaron studied his silence for a moment, then slowly smiled.
"Don’t want to talk. That’s smart. Safer, maybe. But I’ve already put the pieces together."
He stood and walked to a metal table nearby, where a set of tools gleamed under the light. Scalpels. Needles. Rope. A hammer.
"You’ve been following me for what, two weeks? That’s a long time to stare into a cage without realizing something’s staring back."
Levi strained against the bindings. Still silent.
Aaron turned, holding a syringe. "I wasn’t ready to act yet. But you changed the timeline."
He walked forward, expression unreadable. "See, I don’t want to kill you. Not yet. But I do want to know who else is watching."
Levi stared back defiantly, and the jaw locked. Not a word.
Aaron’s lips curled into a cold smirk.
"Fine. We’ll take our time."
He plunged the needle into Levi’s neck.
ition.
He trailed Aaron through winding backstreets until the man stopped at a row of abandoned warehouses just outside the city’s edge. Levi parked two blocks away and killed the lights.
Aaron disappeared inside through a rusted side door.
Levi waited, then followed—quiet steps through puddles, breath fogging in the cold.
The warehouse was quiet. A single overhead light buzzed in the vast space, revealing a lone chair in the centre. Someone sat in it.
Levi approached slowly, instinct flaring.
The figure didn’t move.
As he circled around, he stopped cold.
It wasn’t Aaron.
It was a mannequin. Dressed like him. Same hoodie. Same jeans. A laminated copy of his ID badge clipped to its chest.
Levi’s heart thudded.
Then, a click echoed behind him.
He spun too late.
A sharp pain exploded at the base of his skull—and the world went black.
He woke tied to a chair in a dim, concrete room. His arms ached. His mouth was dry. A single bulb flickered overhead.
Then came the footsteps—steady, deliberate.
Aaron Cole stepped into the light.
No charm in his eyes now. Just calculation.
"You’re persistent," he said, voice calm. "Sloppy. But persistent."
Levi didn’t answer. His jaw clenched tight.
Aaron crouched in front of him, examining him like a lab specimen.
"How long?" he asked.
Levi said nothing.
Aaron studied his silence for a moment, then slowly smiled.
"Don’t want to talk. That’s smart. Safer, maybe. But I’ve already put the pieces together."
He stood and walked to a metal table nearby, where a set of tools gleamed under the light. Scalpels. Needles. Rope. A hammer.
"You’ve been following me for what, two weeks? That’s a long time to stare into a cage without realizing something’s staring back."
Levi strained against the bindings. Still silent.
Aaron turned, holding a syringe. "I wasn’t ready to act yet. But you changed the timeline."
He walked forward, expression unreadable. "See, I don’t want to kill you. Not yet. But I do want to know who else is watching."
Levi stared back defiantly, and the jaw locked. Not a word.
Aaron’s lips curled into a cold smirk.
"Fine. We’ll take our time."
He plunged the needle into Levi’s neck.
- Writer
