Two Of Hearts

5.2 - Fools

No one's POV

"Why are you even moaning? We're not doing anything." Liam asked his girlfriend, who was lying on the bed and focused on her phone, making noises that could be misinterpreted by anyone outside their room as doing something inappropriate.

"Oh come on, just go along with it," Azara urged, trying to get her boyfriend to moan, even though they weren't doing anything.

"I don't want to, and stop it, I'm getting hard," Liam confessed.

Azara looked at her boyfriend and sees a bulge in his pants.

She rolled her eyes, took out her earbuds, and crawled over to her boyfriend, who was sitting on the floor reading a book because she hadn't allowed him to sit next to her.

"Put these on and listen to music so you won't hear me," Azara said curtly. Her boyfriend looked at her, stunned by the situation.

"What? We've done this several times before. Just do what I say," she insisted. Liam sighed and complied with his girlfriend's request.

Azara was right; despite them being together in the bedroom numerous times, they had never engaged in any intimate physical contact beyond kissing.

Liam respected Azara's boundaries, and that was enough for him.

What puzzled him was why Azara would start moaning at unexpected times.

As Liam put on the earbuds and music started blasting, Azara resumed her moaning, shouting Liam's name and more.

"Ahh~"

"Mmhhh, f**k Liam~"

"Mmhhh~"

This continued for a few minutes until Azara finally grew tired and fell silent.

She smirked at her actions and removed the earbuds from Liam's ears.

"Umuwi kana, it's already 10:30 p.m. You might be late for your game tomorrow," Azara said sweetly, smiling with her tongue. Liam's gaze shifted to her lips.

"Can I have my kiss before I go?" the young man asked, but Azara only shook her head.

"One kiss a day. Now go. I can't go to Araneta tomorrow since I'm not allowed out yet, but I'll watch you on TV. Go!" Azara said, playfully pushing Liam gently in the chest with her foot.

Liam took this as a flirtatious gesture from his girlfriend.

He stood up, helplessly grinning and winking before leaving the room.

Azara pretended to struggle walking as she followed him out.

As they descended to the living room, they encountered Seyren, who was seated on the couch, eyes glued to her phone.

Although they didn't acknowledge Seyren, she watched them as they passed by.

Seyren's gaze remained fixed on Azara and Liam. She observed them sharing a flying kiss before Liam finally left.

When Azara returned to the living room, she and Seyren locked eyes once again.

An intense, charged atmosphere enveloped them as they scrutinized each other's every move.

Azara was the first to break eye contact. She walked away and went up the stairs, smirking as Seyren didn't catch her expression.

Seyren, left in the living room, followed Azara with her eyes, noticing the sway of her hips with each step up the stairs.

Seyren sighed and refocused on her phone. After a few minutes, she too went upstairs and headed straight to her room.

As Seyren left the living room, Elowen entered with a smile, chatting on the phone.

"So it's a date?" Elowen asked with a teasing tone, biting her index finger nail.

[No it's not. I'm simply asking as a friend]

"Skyler, I'm courting you. Do you think hindi ko iko-consider as date ang pag-ask mo sa'kin?" Elowen bit her lips hearing her special someone groaned.

"f**k, that was hot" she thought, crossing her legs after.

[Fine, it's a date. Just come with me, I really need to solve this shit.] Elowen plastered a mischievous grin.

Her faces flushed just by thinking about going out with her childhood crush.

"I'll see you tomorrow, love. I'll pick you up with my Lamborghini."

[Yeah, yeah, whatever.] Their call ended even before Elowen could say "i love you" to Skyler.

Nakangiti siyang tumitig sa phone niya. Yet that smile dropped the moment she heard her older sister moaned so loud it echoed all around the corner of the house.

"Didn't she just have s*x with her boyfriend?" She thought, her face grimaced the moment something inappropriate crossed her mind.

"Oh don't tell me she's masturbating... Oh god, why do I have a weird sister?!"

---

Seyren's POV

The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed when my alarm blared.

The throbbing pain in my head was relentless, a brutal reminder of the previous night's indulgence, combined with a night of poor sleep.

My sleep had been disturbed by Azara's raucous behavior, leaving me feeling especially groggy and unwell.

Instead of my usual morning workout, I opted to forgo exercise and headed straight to the living room, collapsing onto the couch.

The pain in my head was so intense that even the thought of exercise seemed unbearable.

"Madame, would you like to have breakfast now? I can prepare something for you if you'd like," the maid asked as she approached.

I gave a weary shake of my head and murmured a thanks.

I began to massage my temples, trying to alleviate the pounding in my head, and slowly opened my eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I rose and shuffled towards the dining area.

The maids were already setting out breakfast, so I took a seat and waited for the meal to be served.

Elowen arrived shortly, sitting down next to me with a cheerful grin.

She scrutinized me from head to toe, her gaze lingering as if she were assessing me.

"You have a really muscular arm and veiny hands. How come I've never noticed that before?" she asked with a teasing edge in her voice.

"I usually cover them up," I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to downplay her observation.

"By the way, how's your head? I heard you had quite a few drinks last night. I'm relieved you made it home safely," her tone shifted to one of genuine concern, almost as if she were a worried parent.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again. It's a rare occurrence, you know how demanding our job can be," I said, placing my head on her shoulder in a gesture of apology and seeking comfort.

"Just make sure not to get too drunk next time," she advised, and I nodded in agreement. I closed my eyes again, massaging my temples.

When I reopened them, my gaze fell upon an unexpected figure entering the dining room.

Azara was wearing an oversized shirt that barely concealed her underwear.

Her outfit was characteristic of her, frequently choosing oversized clothing that left little to the imagination beneath.

Our eyes met for a moment before she looked away, rolling her eyes at me in disdain.

I noticed she seemed to be struggling with each step, her discomfort evident.

She took a seat across from Elowen, and the maids began serving her food.

This was the first time the three of us had shared a meal together.

There was no conversation as Elowen was engrossed in her phone, and I was preoccupied with the pain in my head.

Azara, typically not very talkative, contributed to the silence, making the meal pass in relative quiet.

After we finished eating, I prepared myself for the day.

The headache persisted even while I was showering, but I pushed through, determined to focus on the day ahead.

Once I was dressed and ready, I headed to the headquarters.

On the way, I received a text from a police officer I knew, providing a location where a body had been discovered.

I followed the directions to an old church now overwhelmed with onlookers and police activity.

I noticed police officers were keeping the crowd at bay, preventing anyone from entering or taking photos with their phones.

As I approached the barricade, I showed my ID to the officers, who allowed me to pass.

I donned the gloves and mask they provided and walked towards the altar, where a group of officers was gathered around something.

"What's going on here?" I asked as I neared the scene.

The officers cleared a path, and I was halted in my tracks by the sight on the altar: two bodies, seated in chairs and bound back to back.

Their hands were pressed together, and both bodies were charred.

"Detective Valencia, glad you could make it," the officer greeted me.

The sight was gruesome, and I felt a wave of nausea, but I reminded myself that such horrors were part of the job I had chosen.

"Anong nangyari sa dalawang biktima? Sino sila?"

"These are Father David and Nun Jennifer. They were found in this condition at around 5:30 AM," the officer informed me as I stepped closer to the two bodies.

They looked almost serene, like they were in prayer, with a rosary wrapped around their joined hands, perfectly positioned at the altar.

"Detective, here, we found something we believe you'll need," another police officer said, handing me a few ziplock bags.

I examined the contents, my eyes widening in shock as I realized what I was holding: a human finger, not a fake but a real severed finger.

There was also a gold ring in another bag, still smeared with blood.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I began to assess the crime scene with a more critical eye.

The gruesome nature of the scene suggested a deep-seated anger or ritualistic behavior.

The burnt bodies, the severed finger, and the blood-stained ring pointed to a crime filled with personal vendetta or symbolic violence.

"Secure the perimeter and make sure no one else contaminates the scene," I ordered the officers, who nodded and got to work.

I took out my phone and began taking photos of the scene from various angles, ensuring I captured every detail that could be vital for the investigation.

As I continued to document the scene, my thoughts were racing.

Who could have done this?

And why target a priest and a nun?

"Has anyone spoken to the parishioners or the church staff?" I asked, turning to one of the officers.

"Not yet, Detective. We were waiting for you to lead the investigation," he replied.

"Alright, start interviewing them. I want to know if anyone saw or heard anything unusual last night or early this morning," I instructed.

With the preliminary investigation underway, I turned my attention back to the evidence bags.

The severed finger was a chilling clue, and the gold ring with blood hinted at a personal connection to the victims or the killer.

I needed to find out who the finger belonged to and whether the ring held any significance.

I sent a quick text to the forensic team, requesting them to prioritize the analysis of the finger and the ring.

This was no ordinary case, and every minute counted.

I also informed Detective Guerrero about the crime and asked him to come with me.

After ensuring all critical evidence was collected and documented, I stepped outside the church to get some fresh air.

The sight of the crowd and flashing police lights greeted me, a stark contrast to the eerie stillness inside the church.

I returned to the old church, steeling myself as I approached the bodies once more.

My steps were purposeful, my mind focused on extracting every bit of information from the scene.

As I drew closer, the dampness of the floor became more apparent.

I knelt down and inhaled deeply, the acrid scent of gasoline unmistakable.

This confirmed my suspicion that they had been doused with gasoline before being set ablaze. It was a calculated and cruel act.

Thankfully, no other things had been affected by the fire.

It seemed the arsonist had specifically targeted Father David and Sister Jennifer.

This deliberate choice added another layer to the mystery.

While examining the area, I noticed smeared, damp marks on the floor that resembled a shoe print.

I carefully measured the print, finding it to be 27.6 cm in length.

This clue could be crucial in identifying the perpetrator.

A few minutes later, Detective Guerrero arrived at the scene, his expression a mix of shock and determination.

I allowed the officers to brief him on the situation, continuing my own investigation without interruption.

"Oh God, this is so brutal," he commented, visibly disturbed by the sight before him.

As he approached me, I handed him the gold ring and the severed finger contained in ziplock bags.

"Please check whose finger this is and analyze the DNA in the blood on the ring," I instructed him, my voice steady despite the gruesome nature of the evidence.

Detective Guerrero nodded, understanding the urgency of the task.

He took the evidence and immediately set about coordinating with the forensic team.

I turned back to the scene, my mind racing to piece together the events that led to this horrific act.

I scrutinized every detail, from the positioning of the bodies to the placement of the rosary around their hands.

The setting-a church-and the victims' roles as religious figures suggested a possible motive tied to faith or authority.

The perpetrator had chosen this location and these victims with a specific intent.

"we need to ensure all evidence is meticulously documented," I called over to one of the officers.

"Photograph the footprint and collect samples of the gasoline residue. We can't afford to miss anything."

I stayed at the crime scene until the ambulance arrived to take the two bodies.

I also thoroughly examined the entire church, searching for any additional clues that might reveal themselves, though it seemed unlikely that anything new would surface.

In the end, we had the following pieces of evidence: a blood-stained ring, an unidentified severed finger, two undamaged rosaries, a footprint, and a damp floor reeking of gasoline.

It was frustratingly little to go on.

I cursed under my breath, forgetting momentarily that I was still inside a church.

The gravity of the scene weighed heavily on me as I made my way back to headquarters.

Upon arrival, I was met with an atmosphere of panic.

Officers and staff were bustling around, their anxiety palpable.

The only semblance of calm came from Detective Guerrero, who had returned ahead of me and was trying to manage the situation.

I walked over to him, and he gave me a quick nod.

"It's chaotic here, but we're trying to piece everything together," he said.

I handed him the additional notes I had taken at the crime scene.

"We need to stay focused. Every detail matters," I reminded him, glancing around at the frantic activity.

"Agreed. The lab is already working on the evidence. We should have some preliminary results soon," he replied.

I moved to my desk, setting up my notes and preparing to coordinate with the various teams involved in the investigation.

My phone buzzed with updates from the forensic team, confirming that they were making progress on the DNA analysis and other tests.

Hours passed as we meticulously reviewed the evidence and followed up on every lead.

The atmosphere remained tense, but there was a growing sense of determination among the team.

We were all driven by the need to solve this case and bring justice to Father David and Nun Jennifer.

By the evening, we had received some initial findings.

The DNA on the severed finger matched with Mr Alvarez and the blood on the ring matches Mr Kim, suggesting a connection between the two pieces of evidence.

"It can't be... Mr Kim's killer is already in jail." Hindi makapaniwalang sambit ni Detective Guerrero.

"Well... There's only one way to consider this... We're fooled."