The interrogation rooms were designed to be as unsettling as possible. Declan found himself alone at a steel table, under the harsh glare of fluorescent lights that amplified the sterile chill of the room. The surface of the table was cold and unforgiving beneath his hands. The room itself was small, sparsely furnished, designed to evoke a sense of isolation and vulnerability. A one-way mirror dominated one wall, silently reminding him that he was being watched, scrutinized, and analyzed.
Across town, Danielle was in a similar setting. While her interrogation room was a bit warmer, and the chair was cushioned, it was still unsettling. It was a subtle attempt to put her at ease and lull her into a false sense of security. Agent Parker, the DPA agent who had answered Declan’s call, sat across from her. Her demeanor was professional, her expression carefully neutral, but her gaze was sharp and unwavering.
In yet another room, Connor faced a gruff, no-nonsense FBI agent. Every word and gesture was scrutinized for any sign of deception or complicity.
The wheels of justice, or perhaps something more sinister, had been set in motion. The DPA and the FBI, working together with unclear motives, had descended upon Hellen. Their presence was a tangible sign that the Kings Horn's activities had finally drawn the attention of the outside world. But were these agencies truly independent, or had the Kings Horn's influence already corrupted those who were meant to protect them?
Agent Parker, in a calm, measured voice, began Danielle's interrogation. “Ms. Daniels, I understand that you and Mr. Harper were at Officer Maddison's residence this evening. Can you tell me why you were there?”
Danielle hesitated, glancing toward the one-way mirror, knowing that her words were being recorded, analyzed, and scrutinized for any hint of deception or involvement. **The weight of the evidence they had found at Maddison’s house, the chilling image of the Kings Horn symbol, pressed down on her, fueling her apprehension. **
“We were...concerned about his well-being,” Danielle replied, choosing her words carefully. She had to be truthful, but she also had to protect Declan, their investigation, and the fragile hope that they could expose the Kings Horn without becoming casualties in their twisted game.
“Concerned?” Agent Parker echoed, her eyebrow raised slightly, a hint of skepticism in her tone. “Can you elaborate, Ms. Daniels? What exactly were you concerned about?”
Danielle took a deep breath, her mind racing. She had to tread carefully, reveal enough to satisfy the agent’s curiosity without jeopardizing their investigation.
"We had received information… about a potential threat to Officer Maddison's safety," she replied. Her voice was steadier now, and a touch of defiance was creeping into her tone. She wouldn't reveal their sources or the details of their investigation, but she wouldn't back down either.
Meanwhile, Declan was facing a similar line of questioning from a tall, imposing DPA agent with a stoic expression. His voice was a deep baritone that seemed to reverberate off the walls of the interrogation room.
"Mr. Harper, we found your fingerprints at the scene," the agent stated in a matter-of-fact tone, devoid of emotion. “Can you explain why your prints were inside Officer Maddison's residence?”
Declan knew that his fingerprints were irrelevant because he had been in Maddison's house before and had interviewed the officer there on several occasions. But he also knew that the Kings Horn were experts at manipulation, planting evidence, and framing those who got too close to the truth.
“I’ve been to Officer Maddison's house before,” Declan replied, his voice calm and steady. “We’ve spoken on several occasions, regarding… local matters.” He wouldn't reveal the true nature of their conversations or divulge his investigation into the Kings Horn—not yet. He needed to assess the situation, gauge the DPA's involvement, and determine if they were truly independent or had already been compromised by the Kings Horn’s influence.
The agent didn’t react, his expression remaining unchanged. He simply noted Declan’s response in a file on the table before him, his pen scratching against the paper, the sound amplified in the silence of the room.
"And what about Ms. Daniels and Mr. O’Connell?” the agent continued, his gaze fixed on Declan. "Were they also present during these previous visits to Officer Maddison's residence?"
Declan hesitated, his mind racing. He knew that the agent was trying to catch him off guard, trip him up, and see if his story matched Danielle’s and Connor’s.
“No,” he replied, his voice level. "They were not."
Across town, Connor's patience was wearing thin as he faced a barrage of questions from the FBI agent. The agent was relentless, his tone accusatory. His questions were designed to provoke a reaction and expose any cracks in Connor's carefully constructed facade of composure.
"Mr. O’Connell, why were you at Officer Maddison’s house with two of your employees, late at night?” the agent demanded, his voice booming off the walls. “Do you have any connections to Officer Maddison? Any personal ties? Any financial dealings?"
Connor was a seasoned journalist and knew how to handle pressure. He had faced hostile interviews and stared down angry subjects. But this was different. This wasn't just a story; it was a conspiracy, a web of deceit that threatened to ensnare them all.
"My employees and I were concerned about Officer Maddison's well-being," Connor replied, mirroring Danielle's earlier statement. He wouldn't reveal their suspicions about the Kings Horn or the evidence they had gathered—not yet. Not until he understood the true nature of the game they were playing.
The hours stretched on. The interrogations were a relentless assault on their nerves, their patience, and their resolve. The DPA and the FBI, their roles intertwined and motives unclear, seemed determined to uncover the truth—or perhaps to bury it even deeper.
As the night wore on, a chilling realization began to dawn upon Declan, Danielle, and Connor: They were not just witnesses in an investigation. They were suspects.
As the night deepened, a sense of unease settled over the three interrogation rooms. The questions grew sharper, the agents' gazes more intense, and the air itself seemed to crackle with suspicion.
Declan found himself facing a new interrogator, a woman with a steely gaze and a demeanor that radiated both intelligence and ruthlessness. "Mr. Harper," she began, her voice smooth but edged with a subtle threat, "we've been reviewing your work at the Hellen Weekly Herald. Interesting choice of topics."
Declan felt a chill run down his spine. They were digging into his past, looking for connections, for motives, for anything that could link him to the Kings Horn or paint him as a threat. "I'm a journalist," he replied, his voice steady but his heart pounding. "I cover stories that matter to the community. That's my job."
The agent leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. "Some might say your recent articles have been...provocative. Especially those concerning the preternatural community."
Declan knew what she was referring to. His pieces about the implementation of the Inclusive Citizens Act and the potential for abuse had ruffled some feathers. He had also written about the history of government experimentation on preternatural citizens and the unsettling similarities between those experiments and the Kings Horn's current activities. Had those articles attracted the wrong kind of attention? Had he inadvertently drawn a target on his back, and on Danielle's and Connor's, by shining a light on the Kings Horn's dark deeds?
"I stand by my work," Declan said, his voice firm, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. He wouldn't back down. He wouldn't be intimidated. He wouldn't let them silence him.
The agent smiled, a chillingly predatory expression that did little to ease Declan's unease. "Good," she said, her voice soft but edged with steel. "Because we have a lot more questions for you."
Across town, Danielle found herself facing a similar line of inquiry. The DPA agent across from her had shifted tactics, moving away from the specifics of their visit to Maddison's house and focusing instead on Danielle's personal life, her past, her relationships.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
"Ms. Daniels," the agent began, her voice deceptively gentle, "tell me about your family. Are there any...preternatural individuals among your relatives?"
Danielle's mind raced. Was this a trap? Were they trying to establish a motive, a connection to the preternatural community that could be twisted to fit their narrative?
"My family is...normal," she replied, her voice tight with a sudden surge of protectiveness. She wouldn't divulge the rumors she'd heard about her grandmother, the whispers of strange abilities and a connection to the old ways, the stories her mother had dismissed as folklore and superstition.
The agent smiled, a knowing expression that made Danielle's skin crawl. "Are you sure, Ms. Daniels? Are you absolutely certain there's nothing...unusual about your lineage?"
The question hung in the air, a barbed hook designed to snag her, to pull her deeper into their twisted game.
In the third interrogation room, Connor was growing increasingly frustrated. The FBI agent had abandoned all pretense of civility. His questions were now accusations, his tone laced with a barely concealed contempt.
"Mr. O'Connell," the agent snarled, "let's cut the crap. We know you're hiding something. We know you and your employees were snooping around where you shouldn't have been. And we know that Officer Maddison was onto something big, something that got him killed."
Connor felt a surge of anger. This was a blatant attempt to intimidate him, to bully him into revealing their secrets, to silence their investigation before it could expose the Kings Horn.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Connor replied, his voice steady, his gaze meeting the agent's without flinching. He wouldn't be coerced. He wouldn't be a pawn in their game.
"We'll see about that," the agent growled, standing abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He leaned forward, his face inches from Connor's, his voice a menacing whisper. "You're playing a dangerous game, old man. A very dangerous game."
As the interrogations continued, a chilling truth began to dawn upon Declan, Danielle, and Connor. They had underestimated the Kings Horn. Their influence, their power, their reach, extended far beyond what they had imagined. They were facing a force that could manipulate events, control information, and silence those who dared to challenge their authority.
The tension in each of the interrogation rooms was amplified as the night wore on. The agents' questions became more pointed, their tactics more aggressive. It was clear that Declan, Danielle, and Connor had stumbled into something far more complex and dangerous than they had initially realized. The Kings Horn's influence seemed to permeate every level of authority, casting a long shadow over their pursuit of the truth.
Declan's new interrogator was relentless, her focus shifting to the unsettling events he had witnessed at the abandoned Talihina Veterans Hospital. "Mr. Harper," she began, her voice sharp and clipped, "we've obtained security footage from the Talihina Veterans Hospital. You were there on the night Officer Maddison disappeared."
Declan's mind raced, trying to recall the details of that chaotic night, the terrifying encounter with the creature, the desperate escape through the ventilation shaft. "Yes," he replied, his voice steady despite the tremor of unease that ran through him. "I was there. I was investigating a story."
The agent leaned forward, her gaze piercing. "A story? What kind of story would lead a reporter to an abandoned hospital in the middle of the night?"
Declan hesitated, weighing his words carefully. He couldn't reveal the truth about the creature, about his connection to the ley lines, about the chilling realization that he might possess preternatural abilities. Not yet. He needed to assess the situation, determine whether these agents were truly independent or merely pawns in the Kings Horn's twisted game.
"It was a tip," he said finally, choosing his words carefully. "An anonymous source suggested I might find something...interesting at the hospital. Something related to the Kings Horn." He left out the part about the creature, about his own inexplicable transportation from the hospital to his apartment. He needed to hold some cards close to his chest, protect himself and those who had helped him.
The agent didn't buy it. Her skepticism was palpable. "And what exactly did you find, Mr. Harper? Anything worth risking your life for?"
Declan met her gaze, refusing to back down. "I found evidence," he replied, his voice firm. "Evidence that the Kings Horn are involved in something far more sinister than anyone realizes." He thought about the photographs, the reports, the list of names - all locked away in his apartment. He wouldn't reveal the specifics, not until he knew who he could trust.
Meanwhile, Danielle's interrogation had taken an unsettling turn. The DPA agent across from her seemed fixated on the possibility that Danielle possessed preternatural abilities. "Ms. Daniels," he said, his voice smooth and deceptively reassuring, "we understand that there have been...rumors...about your family history. Stories about a grandmother with...unique abilities. Is there any truth to those rumors?"
Danielle felt a surge of anger, mingled with fear. They were digging into her past, trying to unearth secrets that her family had kept hidden for generations. "My family is perfectly normal," she retorted, her voice sharp. "Those are just stories, nothing more."
The agent smiled, a knowing expression that made Danielle's blood run cold. "Are you sure, Ms. Daniels? Sometimes, abilities manifest later in life. Perhaps you haven't discovered your true potential yet." He leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Wouldn't it be...interesting...to find out?"
Danielle's mind raced, trying to decipher the agent's motives. Was he genuinely curious? Or was this a thinly veiled threat, a suggestion that she submit to testing, to become a subject of their scrutiny, their control?
"I'm not interested in 'finding out,'" she retorted, her voice icy. "I'm a journalist, and my job is to report the news, not become the subject of it."
In the third interrogation room, Connor found himself facing a barrage of accusations. The FBI agent was convinced that Connor was protecting his employees, covering up their involvement in Maddison's disappearance. "Mr. O'Connell," he thundered, his voice booming through the small room, "you're a respected member of this community. But even you can't hide the truth forever. Your employees were at Maddison's house. They found something. And now, Maddison is gone. It's time to come clean."
Connor felt a surge of defiance. They were trying to break him, to force him to betray his employees, to silence their investigation. He met the agent's gaze, his voice steady and resolute. "I have nothing to hide. My employees and I were concerned about Officer Maddison's safety, and we went to his house to check on him. That's all there is to it." He wouldn't budge, wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him crack under pressure.
As the night wore on, the interrogations continued, a relentless assault on their nerves, their resolve, and their belief in justice. The lines between those who sought the truth and those who sought to bury it were becoming increasingly blurred. Declan, Danielle, and Connor found themselves trapped in a web of deceit, facing forces they didn't fully understand, fighting a battle they weren't sure they could win.
They had exposed the Kings Horn, but in doing so, they had become their targets. And now, they were alone, facing a darkness that threatened to consume them all.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile, cold light on the worn surfaces of the interrogation rooms. Time had lost all meaning, stretching into an endless cycle of questions, accusations, and denials. Declan, Danielle, and Connor, exhausted and on edge, clung to the remnants of their determination, their belief in the truth, a fragile shield against the encroaching darkness.
Finally, the door to Declan's interrogation room swung open, revealing the steely-eyed agent who had relentlessly pursued her line of questioning. "You're free to go, Mr. Harper," she said, her voice devoid of any warmth, her expression as unreadable as a stone wall. "For now."
"But consider this a warning," she continued, stepping closer, her gaze piercing. "You and your colleagues are not yet ruled out as suspects in Officer Maddison's disappearance. You are not to leave LeFlore County until this investigation is concluded. Do you understand?"
Declan met her gaze, his voice steady despite the tremor of unease that ran through him. "I understand." He knew that their ordeal was far from over. The Kings Horn's shadow loomed large, and they were still caught in its web of deceit and danger.
Across the hall, Danielle was given a similar warning. The DPA agent leaned in, his voice low and menacing. "Don't think this is over, Ms. Daniels. We'll be watching you. And if we find out you're involved in any way with Maddison's disappearance, or with the Kings Horn, you'll be facing charges far more serious than obstruction of justice."
Danielle felt a surge of anger and defiance. They were trying to intimidate her, to silence her, to bury the truth. But she wouldn't be broken. She would fight back, for Maddison, for the truth, and for the freedom to report the news without fear of reprisal.
In the third interrogation room, Connor faced the FBI agent who had been relentless in his accusations. "You're free to go, Mr. O'Connell," the agent said, his voice gruff and dismissive. "But we're not finished with you. Not by a long shot. You and your little newspaper have poked a hornet's nest, and those hornets are coming for you. You'd better be prepared."
Connor felt a surge of anger and determination. He wouldn't be intimidated. He wouldn't back down. The Hellen Weekly Herald had always stood for truth and justice, and he would continue to fight for those principles, no matter the cost.
As they were released from the interrogation rooms, Declan, Danielle, and Connor exchanged weary glances. They were free, for now. But the weight of the warnings they had received hung heavy in the air. They were not exonerated. They were not safe. They were pawns in a game they didn't fully understand, facing forces that were far more powerful and insidious than they had imagined.
The Kings Horn's influence seemed to permeate every level of authority. They were facing a conspiracy that reached into the heart of their community, their institutions, and their very lives. They had exposed the darkness, but in doing so, they had become its targets.
They stepped out of the police station and into the cool night air. The familiar streets of Hellen, once a symbol of comfort and security, now felt alien and menacing. The shadows seemed to whisper secrets, the darkness pulsating with an unseen energy.
They were free, but they were not alone. They were watched. They were hunted.
And the fight was far from over.