Sighing, I finished my cherry vodka and trailed behind them as we headed outside. The rain drummed softly on the cars parked nearby, and the neon lights reflected off the wet asphalt, mingling with the smoke from cigarettes held by bar-goers huddled under canopies. Kenli, home to some of the city’s most popular bars, was unusually calm tonight. It made sense—since this district was neutral ground. No gang dared to stir up trouble here.

Kenli was an odd place. This land had once been part of the ocean, traversed by ships. But twenty, maybe twenty-five years ago, an extraordinary event caused the waters to recede unnaturally fast, leaving the ships stranded, most were cargo vessels. Golden Cat was a ship too—a big one. Its deck now served as the bar’s third floor, while the second housed private rooms for the “working” girls—what locals called “premiums.”

When West Antapolis expanded its city limits to include Kenli as a district, the poor who had made homes in the stranded ships were pushed out, and the vessels were sold off. Now, Kenli’s residents were mostly those with below-average incomes, scraping by however they could.

“You’re driving, C.” Leo tossed me the keys as we walked. “I think I’m a little drunk.”

“Hmm,” I grunted, catching them mid-air. “It’s a bit of a drive. The factory is pretty far.”

“Which district?” Jane asked.

“Close to Tidbit,” I replied, slipping the keys into my pocket.

“Tidy-bit? More like ‘Caravan Hell,’” Leo scoffed. “Are you sure?”

“It’s not actually in Tidbit,” I clarified. “Just near it.”

“Good,” James said, stretching. “Let’s just hope we can convince this guy to greenlight the autopsy.”

“Here’s hoping,” I agreed, stepping onto the slick road.

Kenli’s streets were quiet, with no homes and only a few ships scattered around. Most of the land was covered in greenery—tall grasses and trees swaying in the rain. It was hard to believe one of the city’s liveliest bars was here.

I slid into the driver’s seat of our cop car and started the engine. James took the passenger seat, while Jane and Leo settled into the back. Buckling up, I adjusted the rearview mirror, reversed out of the lot, and drove into the rain-soaked darkness.

“So,” Jane began, breaking the silence, “why do you think the killer is hanging their victims?”

“Sending a message,” Leo suggested. “But to whom? No idea.”

“Maybe God?” I offered. “You know—Jesus was nailed to a cross.”

“Nah,” James said, shaking his head. “If it was religious, the bodies would’ve been burned, not dismembered. This feels more… deranged. Like something deeper.”

“Fucking psycho,” Leo muttered before turning to Jane. “You’re sure you didn’t see the guy who attacked you?”

“He was wearing a mask,” she replied. “And it was pitch dark. No lights, nothing.”

“It all happened so fast,” I said, flicking on the left turn signal. “I’m just glad none of us got hurt.”

“Who made the call, then?” James asked. “The one who reported the head?”

“They traced it to a man in a nearby apartment building,” Leo explained. “He said he saw someone acting suspicious near the scene. His daughter was outside, so he panicked and called the cops. Then he spotted the head. At first, he thought it was a person lying down, probably passed out. Turns out, there was no body—just the head.”

“We’ll need to interrogate him,” I said.

“Already done,” Leo replied. “Helion doesn’t waste time. This case is all over the news. If we don’t solve it soon, brace yourselves for a hell of a scolding.”

“All over the news?” Jane said. “How? It’s like—what, it’s been one hour at most since we got to the crime since.”

“The Internet is a scary place,” Leo quipped. “So as Helion when he’s angry.”

Jane grimaced, taking out another cigarette. “Ugh, the Captain’s terrifying when he yells. He’s so calm most of the time, but when he snaps…”

“Yeah, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” James added, reclining in his seat. “We’ve got enough problems as it is.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

—

The dead—their stories never fade away, carved into the places they left behind, whispered through bloodstains and bullet holes. And the worst part? Those tales don’t end when they die. They fester, pulling the living into their chaos, forcing their pain onto us... and onto Preternatural Affairs, unfortunately.

“You good, C?” Jane asked me. “You seem out of it.”

“Hmm? Nah, I’m good.”

“Okay… just thought I’d—”

“We’re here.”

I stopped the car and stepped out, pulling my hood low to shield myself from the rain. Tidbit was just ahead, but we needed to head in the opposite direction, past the gas station. It’d be a five-minute hike at most, though the weather wasn’t making it any easier.

Tidbit didn’t have proper roads. Most people parked at the gas station nearby, paid a small fee, and walked the rest of the way. The station also served as a convenient supply stop, with a small market offering essentials—a godsend since this area was far removed from the city.

“There,” I said, pointing toward a distant building. “That’s the factory.”

“Let’s hurry,” Jane urged, her tone sharp. “This rain is killing my mood.”

“Tell me about it,” James muttered, glancing at the gloomy sky. “What horrible weather.”

“It’s always rainy in West Antapolis,” Leo chimed in, half-singing a lyric from an old song.

We started toward the factory, leaving the gas station behind. With no proper highway access, we had to scale the fences meant to keep wildlife out. In West Antapolis, domesticated animals like cats and dogs were rare, but the outskirts of Tidbit supposedly teemed with all kinds of wild creatures.

We headed for a section of the fence where we knew there was a small hole. James went through first, crouching and crawling to the other side. I followed, squeezing through and brushing dirt off my clothes.

“Creepy,” Jane remarked as she crawled through, eyeing the surrounding forest. “Hope we don’t run into a bear or something.”

“Yeah,” Leo chuckled, stepping through the fence. “Four idiots mauled by a bear while heading to a wine factory—that’d make a hell of a headline.”

“Do people actually walk this far to get to work?” Jane grumbled, falling in step beside me. “This is ridiculous. Why couldn’t we just drive there?”

“It’s off-road,” I explained. “Our car wouldn’t make it.”

“Great,” she groaned.

I pushed aside some tall grass and hopped over a fallen log. Spotting a steep slope ahead, I crouched low, keeping one hand on the ground for balance as I descended. The others followed cautiously. At the bottom, I looked left and spotted the highway on the far side of the fence. Cars whizzed by, their headlights cutting through the rain.

We pressed on, the path narrowing as the trees grew denser. The sounds of frogs croaking and small creatures rustling filled the air. Above us, crimson-eyed crows perched silently on the branches, their gazes unsettling.

“Alright,” Jane muttered, her voice low. “Not creepy at all.”

“Scared already?” Leo teased, smirking.

“I’ve lived in the city my whole life,” she shot back defensively. “I’m not exactly a fan of nature.”

“How much farther?” James asked, walking beside me.

“The factory’s up ahead,” I said, pointing through the trees. “But the path isn’t straight. We’ll need to zigzag a bit. Two or three minutes, tops.”

James nodded thoughtfully. “Why do you think Jacob’s brother didn’t come to the crime scene? He just doesn’t care?”

“Maybe his boss wouldn’t let him,” I suggested. “People here only look out for themselves. Wouldn’t surprise me if his boss is the same way.”

“Or,” James added, lowering his voice, “he hated his brother. Maybe he’s even glad he’s dead. Hell, maybe he’s involved. Don’t forget—Jacob’s hand had a faint smell of wine. That’s not a coincidence.”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” I said, picking up the pace.

Seeing that our path was blocked by another section of fence, we veered right, walking along its length. Jane stuck close to the group, positioned in the middle. Though I kept a calm exterior, the truth was, I felt uneasy too. I’d grown up in the city, a self-proclaimed city rat. The concrete jungle might’ve been grimy and chaotic, but it was familiar. Out here, surrounded by towering trees and ominous silence, I couldn’t shake the discomfort.

“I hate this,” Jane muttered, shaking her head. “I swear, I’m going to punch Jacob’s brother right in the nose when I see him.”

“What’s the guy’s name, anyway?” Leo asked, his voice cutting through the patter of rain.

“Robert,” I replied. “He’s thirty-four. Has a bit of a history—drugs and such.”

“Red crystal?” James guessed.

“Yep,” I confirmed. “Used to be a crystal-head. But, he’s clean now.”

“Man,” Jane grumbled, kicking at a stray branch on the ground. “I hope he’s the killer. Then we could just close this case and move on.”

“I doubt it,” James said with a shake of his head. “You’re telling me he killed his brother and managed to drive all the way out here in record time? Doesn’t add up.”

“But earlier, you said you thought he might be involved,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, involved,” James clarified. “Not necessarily the one who did the killing. Could’ve had a hand in it, though—like giving someone access or setting him up.”

“Hmm,” I murmured, considering his theory.

We rounded another corner, and the factory came into view, its silhouette looming against the murky sky. The rain had turned the ground into a muddy mess, and every step squelched unpleasantly underfoot.

“This is it,” I said, motioning toward the imposing building. “Let’s find him.”