“I never imagined that’s what a serial killer looked like,” said Ronns. The two-way mirror revealed an image of a man whose features spoke nothing of his dark habits. He sat still, observing the perfect corners of the room and the table like he wanted to check if there was a single mistake made in that small space.

“I never imagined a serial killer would use magic to bring back his favourite victim and murder them again,” said Kalin preparing to take a sip of coffee, but instead putting it down once Myra and Ori entered the room on the other side.

“I never said this, but this guy isn’t so bad,” said Ronns pointing a finger at Ori. “I don’t get what his deal is, but he is pretty good at this.”

“It’s not hard being good at catching killers when you can use magic to find them. It’s really not the same level.”

“Oh, shhh, here we go.”

“Is your name Callus Jorven?” Myra began.

“Yes,” said Callus.

“Have you performed a total of seven orthopaedic surgeries on Marus Olif, Vika Laman, Salen Rok, Polar Rolek and Treman Golder?”

“Yes, I did. Successful ones at that.” His back straightened as pride gleamed out of him.

“And have you ever seen this before?” Ori cut in placing a blue labeled book on the table. It was old and worn out to the point it barely held onto its pages.

Callus took a long look at it and then averted his gaze like he was suddenly sickened by it.

“We found it in your office,” Ori continued. "You didn't even bother to hide it well."

“It’s mine.” Callus brushed it off.

“Do you know the meaning of Furik A'Roshet?” said Myra laying a photograph of an inscribed bone on top of the book like she was trying to make a stack of evidence by order of importance.

The doctor’s face darkened and then a smile appeared, but not a natural smile that comes on its own, but a forced thing that is meant to hide something deeper. “I own your flesh,” he said.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Ori nodded leaning in so his eyes met the killer's trying to unsettle him, even for a bit. “Do you admit to inscribing those words in the bones of your victims and later killing them for sport?”

“I do.” his voice became slightly twisted. “I killed them all for they were mine to kill.”

"Yours to kill. Why's that?"

"Their gifts did not belong to them."

"Magic?" Ori said. "Those were gifted children weren't they?"

"Oh yes." Not a single shred of remorse could be found in the way Callus was speaking. He kept himself perfectly still and fueled by the confidence of an accomplished killer.

“But why bring Marus back then?” Myra said, somewhat taunted by the calmness Callus radiated and how easily he admitted to everything. “Did you run out of branded children or did you specifically enjoy killing Marus over and over again?”

“I did. I enjoyed that quite a bit. I can humbly say I got very good at killing that brat.”

“And you did it with the spell you found in this book?” Ori said slowly as he tapped on the covers, pacing his words.

Callus nodded but otherwise made neither a sound nor a move.

“Should I tell him?” Ori turned to Myra, with a spark of anticipation in his eyes. “Furik A'Roshet is not a spell. It does not bring back the dead.”

“What do you know?” Callus mocked, but underneath the table his leg was bouncing up and down.

“The real knowledge behind those words had been lost for so long, only the rumour survived. Now if you’ve actually read this book, you’d know that. But you couldn’t really read it, could you?”

The tension in the room grew beyond the scale of anything the station had witnessed before. The other side of the mirror was now packed with curious visitors from other departments, with Kalin and Ronns stuck somewhere in between.

“You are afraid?” Myra said. She did not know how, but she could almost see there was something behind his act. “There is someone else, isn’t there? You could not do this alone.”

He did not answer but his glasses began to reflect an emotion people like him were not accustomed to.

“You are not gifted, Callus.” Ori insisted. “Magic does not flow through you. Did that hurt? Were you bullied as a child and wished for power? It never came, did it?” Each sentence he spoke pushed the man further towards the edge until all he could do was burst out in anger and pull on the chains that bound him like a wild animal caught in a trap. "So you killed the gifted children in retaliation."

“You know nothing,” he said looking at the ceiling and then lowering his gaze to Ori. "How unfair does the world have to be to harbour those like you."

“Who brought the dead to life?” Myra hissed slamming the table with a dozen photographs of identical people. “Who had you hunt again?”

“I did not want them,” Callus cried making the chains clash. “He came to me. He found me and taunted me, just like before. I should have been born like that. Me! He had no right to be alive. I killed them all. I did it…” he stopped talking and started banging his head on the table with great persistence until officers came to take him away.

“Well, that was…” Ronns said after finishing a full cup of coffee that wasn’t his own and counting all the heads that were in the room with them.

“Unexpected,” added Kallin.