Murder Case #201

CHAPTER 8- WHO'S NEXT?

"Well, what's the big deal if she doesn't want to cooperate, huh?" Lesia grumbles, her voice filled with frustration. I found myself at the SH station this Saturday, trying to make sense of it all.

It's been three long days since the Xell Hospital murder case unfolded. Jhasmine has already adamantly refused to face them again. She's made it clear that she wants no part in this investigation. I understand her fear, but I can't shake off my own curiosity about what she witnessed.

Detective Ace is consumed by Kira's funeral arrangements. The victim's father has made the difficult decision to expedite the cremation ceremony for the sake of his grieving wife. Mrs. Dizon remains locked in a perpetual state of sorrow, her tears flowing ceaselessly. As Kira was their sole child, it's only natural for their anguish to run deep.

As the man arrives, he anxiously inquires, "Where's Ainslynn?"

"Why, Ace? Are you already missing Lynn?" Lesia quickly retorts, her voice filled with playful banter. I can't help but roll my eyes, amused by her lighthearted antics.

"I need her right now..." Ace's voice carries a tinge of urgency, conveying the immediate importance of his request.

"Oh! Really? Who can resist the irresistible charm and radiant beauty of my dear friend?"

"Lesia Abellana," he replies, his tone laced with a touch of exasperation, implying that Lesia's words are both teasing and slightly irritating.

I meet his gaze and respond, "Yes, Detective Ace?" He wearily massages his temples, his expression filled with exhaustion.

"Daxxe is Kira's ex-boyfriend," he informs us, placing a photo on the table, depicting a woman and a man, both wearing smiles that seem almost unsettling given the circumstances.

Curiosity piqued, Lesia asks, "Where did you find this?"

"In Kira's room," he confesses, his tone betraying a hint of guilt.

"OMG, don't tell me you entered Kira's room without notifying her parents," Lesia exclaims, her voice filled with disbelief.

"I'm still a detective, and they know I hold the position of Captain in the SH Homicide Department," he interjects. asserting his authority. "Detective Kenneth."

Detective Kenneth, who had been half-dozing, suddenly snaps to attention, his posture instantly straightening.

"Yes, Captain!" We all jump at the sudden loudness of his voice. Detective Marie quickly smacks him lightly, scolding him for being too loud.

"I need information about Darry Collins."

"Got it, boss!"

My cellphone suddenly rings, startling me into action as I check the sender of the text. It's from an unknown number. Carefully, I read the message.

"Let's meet at the Qué building near Fishfarm Ville. I know important things about Kira's death."

My eyes widen, my heart racing. I quickly typed a response, trying to stay calm.

"How can I be sure that you really know something important?" I sent the message without hesitation.

"Why? Is there a problem?" Lesia asks, curious. I force a smile and casually shrug, hiding my inner turmoil.

"Oh, it's just Ma'am Flyn. She's asking about the school event on Monday," I make up an excuse.

Moving a bit away, I answer another call on my cellphone.

"You need Doctor Jhasmine, right? Come alone. I don't want to see any detectives because they make me feel sick. I have real evidence."

Anxiety tightens my chest, making it hard to breathe. I try to calm down and think clearly. There's everything to gain and nothing to lose by going.

And what kind of evidence does this person have?

Taking a deep breath, I steady my racing heartbeat. Whoever this person is, I sense that she knows a lot. Whether it's a trap or a real chance, I have to take it. I've come too far to give in to fear.

"Ah, I actually need to go home now. Ma'am Flyn is coming to our house," I make an excuse to my companions.

I just hope they don't realize I'm lying. After all, they're detectives, so it's easy for them to see the truth by reading people's minds.

"Okay, come back when you have time," Lesia says, her voice tinged with a hint of concern. I offer her a reassuring smile before turning away.

"Ainslynn Quezon," Detective Ace calls out, his tone serious.

"Yes, Detective Ace?"

He fixes his gaze on me, his eyes searching for something deeper. "Make sure you don't get yourself into any dangerous situations."

Marie and Kenneth exchange a knowing glance, their expressions reflecting a mix of caution and worry. Meanwhile, Lesia can't help but conceal a stifled laughter, her face clearly showing a hint of amusement mixed with a touch of "cringe."

"You're one of the keys to bringing justice to Kira's death," he adds, his words laden with the weight of expectation. Frustration replaces the previous amusement on Lesia and Kenneth's faces, their determination shining through.

Understanding the gravity of his words, I simply nod in acknowledgment. "I'm leaving," I announce, bidding farewell to my colleagues at the SH station, knowing that this is a pivotal moment.

Hailing a taxi, I request to be taken to the Que Building mentioned by the unknown sender. The journey is a considerable distance, with stretches of rough roads and glimpses of shimmering bodies of water in place of a dense forest. The proximity to Fishfarm Ville becomes evident, as if the building is entwined in its enigmatic aura.

"There's the Que Building, Ma'am. From what I know, the place has long been abandoned. It used to be a bustling Public Office for a company, but when the company went bankrupt, the QB was left forsaken," the taxi driver shares, a tinge of melancholy in his voice. Grateful, I offer him a warm smile and hand over the fare, appreciating his insight.

"Thank you," I express my gratitude as I step out of the taxi, my anticipation growing.

Waiting for the taxi to fade into the distance, I lift my gaze to the QB. Its once vibrant red paint has now faded, a mere whisper of its former glory. Towering trees stand as sentinels, casting long shadows that shroud the building in an air of mystery.

I catch a glimpse of a few windows at the front, their glass panes weathered and worn. The QB stretches upwards, revealing three floors, but I can't help but sense that only a handful of rooms inhabit each level, shrouded in secrecy.

Even the main gate has succumbed to nature's embrace, with overgrown grasses reclaiming their territory. Slightly ajar, the gate beckons me forward, its invitation tinged with a sense of foreboding and curiosity.

I tread carefully, each step filled with cautious anticipation. Nervousness envelops me as I venture deeper into the eerie unknown. The emptiness of the first floor confirms my solitude, urging me to proceed directly to the second floor.

As the driver had suggested, this is unmistakably an office, its atmosphere haunted by scattered folders and disheveled papers in every room I pass. The air grows dense, carrying an unsettling weight that hangs in stark contrast to the floor below.

Silence reigns supreme, swallowing even the faintest echo of my footsteps. Methodically, I scrutinize each room on the second floor, leaving no corner unexplored before ascending the stairs towards the enigmatic third floor.

A jarring noise from above jolts me, nearly causing my heart to leap out of my chest. Hesitation grips me, my mind torn between pushing forward or retreating to the safety of my origin.

With trembling trepidation, I dial the number of the unknown sender. Slowly, deliberately, I advance, meticulously revisiting every room in search of any signs of life. Yet, the absence of any human presence persists.

"I'm here, where are you?" I inquire as the voice on the other end answers my call. An oppressive stillness settles as I stand motionless within a room, the sound of a mysterious presence emanating from its depths.

I gingerly pry open the door, my eyes fixated on a lone foot. A foot? Does someone dwell within these walls?

My muscles constrict, my hands quiver uncontrollably as I confront the surreal sight before me. Progress becomes impossible as my heart threatens to rupture under the weight of paralyzing fear.

"Oh my God," I whisper feebly, struggling to steady my buckling knees. Doubts assail my mind, questioning the wisdom of venturing alone into this forbidding place.

Is the horrifying sight that greets me a grim reality? Why... does a lifeless body lie here, shrouded in macabre secrecy?

An overwhelming, foul smell assaults my senses as I come face to face with the lifeless man before me. His eyes stare wide open, and blood gushes profusely from his throat and head.

The III mark on his forehead is etched vividly in my vision, and just like Kira, his hands and feet are severed.

Involuntarily, my grip on the doorknob tightens. I struggle to contain the tremors running through my body. The reek of blood fills my nostrils, stirring up a sickening turmoil in my stomach.

"Do you like it?" a woman's voice sneers from the other end of the line.

I swiftly survey the hallway, my eyes darting towards the distant figure of a woman. Her face is concealed under layers, revealing only her eyes to me.

"What evidence do you have?" I ask directly.

"The corpse of that man is the evidence you need," she replies. Once again, my gaze shifts to the indicated subject.

Who is this man? Evidence... A living evidence? Damn!

I turn my eyes back to the woman. I'm so startled that I almost lose my balance. We're just two steps apart. She hangs up the call and locks her gaze with mine.

"Why don't you investigate and find out why I killed that man? Aren't you good at poking around?" she taunts.

What is she talking about? How does she seem to know about our actions? I'm not a detective, so technically, she shouldn't have contacted me.

My heart races as I notice she's holding a knife. Its shiny blade indicates its sharpness, and there are traces of blood on it.

"Do you know what kind of knife this is?"

Of course, yes. It's a trench knife. It can deliver a powerful blow and take lives. The design seems customized too.

Wait... Customized? Just like Kira's handkerchief.

I take a cautious step back as she comes closer. My throat tightens involuntarily at the sight of the blade she wields. Death feels so close.

"Who are you, and why are you doing this?" I manage to ask.

"Good question, Ma'am Ainslynn. Are you sure you want to know who I am? If you do, it means you're ready to join Kira and Ansel."

Ansel? Is she referring to the man inside the room?

"Goodbye," she murmurs, and even though I can't see her mouth, I sense a smile on her face. It's both gentle and filled with anger.

Is she the killer's accomplice? But...

"Send my regards to Kira."

She raises her hand, gripping the knife tightly. Fear holds me back from running. Maybe this is where I'll meet my end.

As I anxiously wait for her next move, I hear hurried but cautious footsteps approaching from downstairs. It only adds to the fear pulsing through me.

Perhaps the woman also senses the presence of someone else here, causing her eyes to dart around. I seize that opportunity and make a dash to escape.

"Help!" I scream as I collide with someone. I crash to the floor. When I glance up, I find myself face to face with Detective Ace. I glance back in the direction I came from, only to find myself staring down the barrel of a gun. I follow the gaze and realize that the woman I was talking to now holds a gun too.

"Catch me if you can. If you can't catch me now, Detective Ace, you'll receive more corpses," she says in a deep tone. It's not a mere threat; she's capable of doing it.

"Die then," Detective Ace responds without hesitation and fires without warning. I'm certain he hit her in the shoulder. She moves as swiftly as the wind, evading his pursuit. She leaps down without any hesitation.

"Fuck!" The expletive echoes through the entire floor. The man returns to me and helps me up.

"I told you not to do things that would put you in danger, didn't I?" he says angrily.

"Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?" he asks, examining me with a series of questions.

I remain silent, my breathing heavy as I try to steady myself. The air is thick with tension, and my mind races with the horrors I've witnessed. "Ainslynn Quezon, answer me," he insists, his voice filled with urgency.

"That... T-that room," I stammer, my finger trembling as I point towards the ominous chamber.

"Why?" he asks, his voice laced with concern and curiosity.

"S-see it for yourself," I manage to utter, my voice barely above a whisper.

Without hesitation, he strides towards the room, his footsteps heavy with anticipation. As he reaches the threshold, his eyes widen, and a gasp escapes his lips. The sight before him is unimaginable, a grotesque tableau that defies comprehension. Even he, a seasoned detective, takes an involuntary step back, unable to contain his shock.

"Son of a bitch!" he exclaims, his cursing resonating through the room, a testament to the horrifying reality we now face.

The mastermind behind Kira's death begins to clean up their own mess. They systematically target those connected to the case.

Who will be next?

I startle as my cellphone rings. It's a text message from the woman.

"In our next encounter, it will be you whom they mourn."