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2024-10-29 19:42:56"Shutt," a whispering sound echoed in the darkness of the night, where only a faint light from the chandelier in the center of the room illuminated a small space filled with various heavy equipment such as spears and fishing hooks.
"Umm."
A muffled voice emerged, stifling sobs, with a mouth tightly gagged with dark fabric, possibly red. A pair of terrified eyes, those of a woman, still adorned with makeup that had run down her cheeks from tears.
"Hu hu..." Her sobs were choked and trembled.
A tall, large figure, dressed in black resembling a raincoat stopped, carrying a horrible tool which still drenched with blood dripping to the floor. You can still hear the dripping which getting louder and louder by the time.
"Ummm! Ummp!!"
The heart-wrenching cries, though muffled, still sounded terrifying. The floor swayed as if on a boat, the light from the hanging ceiling lamp flickered along with it. No matter how loud the screams were, it was impossible for anyone to hear them in this desolate location by the dock, dark and devoid of any signs of life.
....
Every passing moment holds immense significance as the Earth spins rapidly, and your tiny feet might seem to get lost in keeping on the pace.
Consider this: How much time do you spend waking up and getting ready each morning—perhaps twenty minutes? And how long does it take you to eat—a mere fifteen minutes? Now, think about the frequency of your daily meals.
Reflect on the time you spend engaging in various activities throughout the day, be it joking around, working at your desk, or pursuing what truly matters to you. Is it an hour, two hours, or even eight hours?
When you return home, picture the minutes slipping away as you wait for a bus or taxi by the roadside—fifteen minutes or maybe half an hour. Even a quick stop at the convenience store to enjoy a snack or make some noodles and sit for a while can consume around twenty minutes.
Have you ever wondered how all these moments add up over time?
"Consider this: How long does it take for one person to end another person's life? Unfortunately, the answer may be as swift as just a few seconds."
..................
Sam lowered his body, this was his first case at the beginning of the week; it was only Monday, and the sun had not yet risen when he was abruptly awakened from his comfortable sleep and brought here. Such a hectic beautiful Monday morning.
With a yawn and groggy eyes, he clutched the hot coffee cup he snatched from the drive-thru. The steam still billowed from the coffee's surface, and he hadn't even taken a bite of his doughnut yet.
Like everybody except him, someone had been diligently doing their job long before he could even emerge from his dreams. The cold body lay there, once again in a horrific state where several parts had been mutilated, and some parts were nowhere to be found.
Emma rose from her crouched position; the young forensic woman had just finished examining the body of a woman whose eyes were still wide open.
"The victim was a secretary at a trading company; there was a company ID in her bag. She was thirty-two years old, single, and had a pet Pomeranian in her apartment."
Sam lifted his head, surprised that his colleague knew the victim well enough to be aware that she had pets in his apartment.
"Did she really mention that she had pets? Do you know her?" the young detective asked as he straightened up. His eyes looked at the doctor as if he underestimate her.
In response, Emma pursed her lips, a faint smirk forming. The clever woman with big eyes behind her glasses stared at Sam, slightly annoyed by his words of underestimating her, as he always did.
"Well, based on the wallpaper on her cellphone and the dog food slip in her bag, I guess that she had a dog. No, I didn't know her personally," Emma explained.
Sam playfully teased her, the smart-ass doctor was trying to take over his job.
"That was my part; you just need to check on the body, and that's it. What if I lose my job because of you?" he joked.
Sam playfully teased her, the smart-ass doctor was trying to take over his job. Emma restrained herself from hitting the man, get used to his sarcastic nature.
"This guy, really..."
Sam shifted his focus to the cold body lying intentionally on the floor. A pool of blood had dried up, spreading like a small, unpleasant-smelling puddle.
"There were so much blood."
Emma pulled on her rubber gloves.
"Well, first the victim would be sedated, then the first parts to be cut off are the two legs, while still alive, followed by the arms, and finally, the head."
Sam might have vomited if he hadn't gotten used to such scenes over the years; that was back when he was still a rookie. But by the time passed, he had begun to feel as if he might be numb, heartless to it all, devoid of any emotion when faced with a lifeless body in such a horrific state.
"Have the arm been found? Is it like the other victims? This time the right arm, right?"
Emma nodded.
Not long after, Ron, the head of the special crimes unit, entered the former fish storage room and approached Sam.
"Is the modus operandi still the same as the last one?" he asked.
Sam nodded. "Yes, it seems so. From the tools used, the pattern—heh, this person is quite slicky."
"This is the third victim. If this issue comes to light in the community, there will be unrest. Sam, do whatever it takes to find the perpetrator."
Sam nodded, "Yes, sir, that's what we're doing."
Ron looked at Sam for a moment, the young man who had become a detective in what was still a relatively new career but had already achieved much. He should be able to rely on him. Ron patted Sam on the shoulder.
"Bring Dakota here, it's time for you to ask for his help, don't be stubborn."
Sam scratched his head; just hearing that name made his head feel hot. His last encounter with that young professor wasn't exactly pleasant—actually, it was quite embarrassing.
"Yeah, sure, boss."
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"Clang" The sound of the metal door grinding against the frigid floor echoed through the confined space.In the dimly lit and chilly room, measuring three by three with barely any visible light, only a faint glow seeped in through the barred holes near the ceiling. This was one of the isolation cells in a highly secure prison, designed to keep the most dangerous individuals away from society.The warden pushed open the door and stepped inside. There sat the prisoner, handcuffed in a corner. Despite the maximum security, this person was kept secluded from the lights and commotion, still bound by handcuffs.A sneer could be heard from the figure sitting in the light as two officers pulled him, still shackled, out of the room. "Let’s go!"The prison was carefully designed to prevent any escape attempts, with multiple layers of security guards and extensive CCTV surveillance.That afternoon, Dakota was accompanied by a man in his fifties, his face covered in stubble from not shaving for a
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Sam frowned; he had misspoken.“I mean, don’t stay up too late. You’re still in recovery. The city is now in chaos; it’s better to stay in the apartment and lock all the doors. I’ve already asked Roger to add more people if needed.” Sam added.“What does that have to do with me? I have Edi here; don’t do unnecessary things. Since when does Roger have to listen to you?” said Dakota.Sam bit back the urge to shout. That stubborn one.“Since the honorable Prime Minister said I have to keep an eye on you, twenty-four hours a day, every second, every minute, even microseconds if necessary. So Roger and anyone else has to listen to me,” he said, annoyed.