The Past – The Third Kill
The boy watched from the shadows, his breath slow, measured.
A streetlamp flickered above, casting erratic patches of light onto the cracked pavement. Across the street, a man stumbled out of a run-down bar, his jacket barely hanging onto his shoulders, his fingers fumbling for a cigarette.
Perfect.
The boy had been watching him for days, learning his patterns, his weaknesses. This man was different from the others. He wasn't some violent drunk like his father. He wasn't careless like the man from the apartment.
This one was arrogant—he thought he was untouchable.
The boy wanted to prove him wrong.
He followed silently, staying in the shadows. The man took his usual shortcut through an alley—a predictable, fatal mistake.
The boy quickened his pace, closing the distance. His heartbeat remained steady. There was no fear, no hesitation.
As soon as the man turned the corner, the boy struck.
A swift movement—the wire looped around his throat.
The man barely had time to react. He gasped, his hands clawing at the garrote, his cigarette falling to the ground, burning out against the concrete.
The boy tightened his grip. Not too fast. Not too slow. Just right.
The man's struggles weakened. His body convulsed once.
Then stillness.
The boy loosened the wire, letting the lifeless body slump against the alley wall.
He crouched beside him, tilting his head. Less mess than a knife. More control than the last one.
A slow smile curled on his lips.
Yes. This would do.
The Present – Damien Confronts Cole
Damien stood in the doorway of Cole's dimly lit bedroom, watching his son.
Cole sat at his desk, scribbling something into a notebook. His posture was rigid, his shoulders tense.
"Cole," Damien said.
His son didn't look up. "Yeah?"
Damien stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "We need to talk."
Cole's grip on the pen tightened. "About what?"
Damien studied him for a moment before speaking. "The message you left."
Finally, Cole looked up. His expression was neutral, but Damien saw the flicker of defiance in his eyes. "I don't know what you mean."
Damien took a slow step closer. "The card. 'Soon.'"
Cole didn't flinch, didn't break eye contact. "What about it?"
Damien let the silence stretch, watching him. Testing him.
"You're getting reckless." His voice was calm, but the warning was clear.
Cole leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Or maybe I'm just getting good."
Damien's fingers twitched. He's too confident. That's dangerous.
"You want Jonas to start looking at you?" Damien asked. "Because that's exactly what will happen if you keep leaving clues."
Cole smirked. "Maybe that's the point."
Damien's jaw tightened. "This isn't a game."
Cole's expression darkened. "It is to me."
They stared at each other for a long moment—father and son, predator and apprentice.
Damien took a breath, forcing his voice to remain steady. "You think you're in control, but you're not. Not yet."
Cole's smirk faltered, just slightly.
Damien stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I'm the only reason you haven't been caught. You think you can outplay me? You're not ready."
Cole swallowed, but his expression didn't waver. "Then teach me."
Damien exhaled slowly, watching his son.
After a long moment, he nodded.
"Fine," he said. "But if you step out of line again, I'll make sure you regret it."
Cole didn't respond, but Damien saw it—the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
Good. He needed to be afraid. Just a little.
Because if Cole wasn't careful, Damien would be the one cleaning up his mess.
The Present – The Forensics Report
Jonas tossed the file onto his desk, rubbing his temples. "This just keeps getting worse."
Damien picked up the report, flipping through it.
The forensic team had analyzed the card left on the last victim. No prints. No fibers. Nothing useful.
But what they did find was more concerning.
Jonas pointed to a section of the report. "The ink used on the card? It's specialized—used for high-end security printing. You don't just buy this at a store."
Damien's eyes flicked to the details. Limited distribution. Hard to trace. A deliberate choice.
Jonas sighed. "This guy is smart. He's covering his tracks, but he wants us to know he's out there."
Damien set the file down. "He's playing with us."
Jonas nodded. "Yeah. And I don't like it."
Damien leaned back in his chair, keeping his expression unreadable.
He had trained Cole well.
But Jonas was right. Cole was playing a dangerous game.
And Damien wasn't sure how long he could keep his son from slipping up.