The hospital’s morgue was colder than usual, the scent of antiseptic sharp in the air. Dr. Lina Morales adjusted her gloves and gestured for Caleb and Eileen to join her by the stainless steel table where Mark Calloway’s body lay.

“I’ve completed the autopsy,” Lina began, her voice steady but laced with unease. “The cause of death wasn’t blood loss, as we initially suspected. It was respiratory failure. But here’s the strange part—his lungs were filled with a substance resembling liquid nitrogen.”

Caleb frowned. “Liquid nitrogen? Are you saying he was suffocated with it?”

“Not suffocated,” Lina corrected. “More like frozen from the inside. There are no external injuries to suggest forced inhalation, but the traces are unmistakable. This was deliberate and highly calculated.”

Eileen scribbled furiously in her notebook, her pulse quickening. “So, the killer isn’t just covering their tracks—they’re experimenting?”

Lina hesitated. “Possibly. Or they’re sending a message. Either way, this isn’t a method we’ve seen in any of the prior cases. It’s escalating.”

As the trio discussed the implications, a knock at the morgue door interrupted them. A nurse escorted a woman and two children into the room. The woman was Zara Calloway, Mark’s widow, her delicate features etched with grief. Her two children, Eliana and Mateo, clung to her sides, their wide eyes taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

“I was told I could see him,” Zara said, her voice trembling. “Please… I need to say goodbye.”

Caleb nodded solemnly and stepped aside, giving the family space. Eileen watched as Zara approached the table, her hands trembling as she touched Mark’s lifeless hand.

“Who would do this to him?” Zara whispered, her voice breaking. “He was a good man. A good father.”

Eliana, the older of the two children, looked up at her mother. “Will they catch the bad person, Mama?”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Zara pulled her daughter close, her tears falling silently. “I hope so, sweetheart. I hope so.”

In the corner of the room, Victor Anders observed the scene with detached interest, scribbling notes into his own pad. He leaned toward Eileen and whispered, “Tragic, isn’t it? But it’ll make a hell of a story. ‘Father Frozen to Death: Killer’s Chilling Message.’ Has a nice ring to it.”

Eileen glared at him, her voice barely a whisper. “Have some respect. His family is standing right there.”

Victor shrugged, unfazed. “Respect doesn’t pay my bills. Stories like this do. And the more sensational, the better.”

Eileen’s stomach churned as she turned away from him, focusing back on Zara and the children. Caleb walked over to Zara, his expression softening. “Mrs. Calloway, I promise you, we’re doing everything we can to find out who did this. I’ll make sure they face justice.”

Zara nodded, though her hollow eyes betrayed little hope. “Please… just find them before they hurt anyone else.”

As the family was escorted out of the morgue, Lina turned back to Caleb and Eileen. “There’s something else you need to see.”

She pulled out a series of photographs taken during the autopsy. One showed a faint, circular mark on the back of Mark’s neck.

“What is that?” Caleb asked, leaning closer.

“A puncture wound,” Lina replied. “It’s small but precise, likely from a specialized needle. I think it’s how the liquid nitrogen was introduced into his body. Whoever did this has medical knowledge—or access to someone who does.”

Caleb exchanged a look with Eileen. “This just keeps getting worse.”

Eileen nodded, her mind racing. “If the killer’s escalating and experimenting, we might not have much time before they strike again.”

Victor, still loitering nearby, smirked. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full. But hey, don’t forget to give me a quote for the article, Detective.”

Caleb shot him a withering look. “The only thing you’re getting from me is a warning to stay out of our way.”

Victor raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll stay out of your way—for now. But if you think I’m letting this story slip through my fingers, think again.”

As Victor left, his notepad tucked under his arm, Caleb turned to Eileen. “We need to dig deeper. If this killer is experimenting, they’ll need resources—supplies, equipment, maybe even a lab. Someone has to know something.”

Eileen nodded, determination hardening her features. “Then let’s start asking questions. The sooner we find them, the sooner we stop this nightmare.”