The Echo Within

Chapter Twelve - Whispers in the Wall

Rain tapped against the windows of Unit 9’s bullpen, a soft, persistent rhythm that mirrored the unspoken tension in the room. The Dreamer’s Note had shaken them all—someone had survived. And that someone claimed the killer was watching.

Jace Marlon stood before the murder board, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. The pinned evidence formed a jagged web across the board—photos, maps, names, strings of connection—but none of it offered the clarity he craved.

Ellis Vale stepped in beside him, quiet as always.

“The killer isn’t just watching,” Ellis murmured, his eyes scanning the photos. “He’s learning. Every move we make… he’s adjusting.”

Ellis Vale stepped in beside Jace, quiet as always. His eyes swept the chaotic murder board, lips barely parting as he murmured,

"The killer isn’t just watching… he’s learning. Every move we make, he’s adjusting."

Jace didn’t respond immediately. He kept his eyes on the board for a moment longer, then turned slightly toward Ellis, his voice low.

"You’re not bothered, are you?"

Ellis raised a brow. "About what?"

"That survivor’s note. Said the killer is watching. Anyone could start pointing fingers." Jace’s tone was casual, but there was a subtle edge to it.

"Some people in this unit might start thinking it’s you."

Ellis gave a quiet, humorless chuckle. “I’m used to being misunderstood.”

Jace studied him, but Ellis didn’t flinch—his expression unreadable, calm, almost detached.

"Just don’t give me a reason to start suspecting you too," Jace muttered, returning his gaze to the board.

"If I ever do," Ellis replied, "you’ll be the first to know."

There was something in his voice that lingered—like a shadow just out of reach.

Jace didn’t look at him, but he replied, “Feels like we’re playing a game he’s already won.”

“Not yet,” Ellis said. “He’s close to slipping. This last victim wasn’t planned. Sloppy work, visible rage. He’s losing control.”

Footsteps behind them interrupted the moment. Maya Kwon walked in, holding a slim case file, her expression unreadable.

“South District reported a new body,” she said, offering the file. “Confirmed connection. Same symbol carved in.”

Ellis took the file before Jace could. “Another woman. Early twenties. No sign of struggle.”

Maya nodded. “I was thinking we head out now. The locals are sealing off the alley.”

Jace took the file back from Ellis, flipping it open as they moved.

South District – Crime Scene

The alley was damp and reeking of old garbage. The victim was crumpled near a dumpster, her blood soaked into the pavement. Her eyes were still open, glazed and empty.

Maya crouched down beside the body, gloves already on. “No signs of resistance. Killer may have drugged her.”

Ellis stood with Jace a few feet back, observing. “It’s the same symbol, but not as precise.”

“Shaky,” Jace agreed. “Like his hand wasn’t steady.”

“Or he was rushed,” Ellis added. “That’s two victims within a week. He’s speeding up.”

Maya stood up and joined them. “You two thinking escalation?”

Jace nodded. “Escalation, or unraveling.”

“Either way,” Ellis said, “he’s getting reckless. That’s our edge.”

---

Later That Night – Unit 9 Office

The murder board had been updated with the latest victim. Jace stared at it in silence while the office slowly emptied out around them. A faint buzz of a broken light above flickered inconsistently.

Ellis walked in with two cups of coffee, offering one to Jace without a word.

Jace took it. “Appreciate it.”

Ellis leaned against the edge of a desk. “You ever wonder why the killer knows these places so well? Every scene—there’s no forced entry. No prints. But he knows the space like it’s personal.”

Jace hesitated. “You’re saying he’s not picking random victims. He’s picking places he knows.”

Ellis smiled faintly. “I’m saying maybe he doesn’t need to learn anything. Maybe he already knows.”

Jace frowned. “Knows from where?”

Ellis took a sip. “Memory’s a funny thing. Especially when it’s not your own.”

Before Jace could respond, Maya returned from the evidence room with a file.

“Jace, you’ll want to look at this. One of the original victims? Her brother filed a missing person’s report months ago. Said she told him someone from her childhood was following her.”

Jace took the file, flipping it open. “Childhood? Did he say who?”

“No name. Just that the guy had this way of watching her that made her skin crawl.”

Jace fell quiet. Ellis leaned closer, voice low.

“You know what they say about echoes, Jace. The louder the trauma, the longer they stay.”

Jace glanced at him.

“Echoes fade,” he said. “But this one keeps getting louder.”