Detective Locke and Detective Myers bounce roughly in their seats as their seat belts hold them in place and leave a trail of red welts across their chests. The police car kicks up dust and dirt as Detective Locke drives down the dirt road. A trail of cars is seen ahead as he pulls off to the side of the road a fair distance away. However, even from their current location, a well-kept cottage can be spotted in the distance.
The two detectives emerge from their vehicle and shut the doors behind them. The sound echoes loudly in the woods and despite all the personnel present at the scene, there is an eerie atmosphere permeating from the very ground to the very air. The detective's footsteps crunch loudly as they make their way to the shack. Something about the sound of their own footsteps causes the hairs on the back of the detective's necks to stand on edge.
A charming wood shack with a stone chimney sits directly in the middle of the woods. A pretty white stone path leads to the shack from the connecting dirt road. At the edge of the dirt road is a seemingly cute, painted mailbox in the shape of a barn house. Further inspection does not suggest that this seemly cute shack would be the den of a crazed killer. But even though the two detectives had worked as VICE and had seen plenty of gruesome crime scenes in their days, something about this one chilled them to their very bones.
A masked officer emerges from within the cottage out carrying out a sealed box. With great care, the dark-skinned officer removes the mask from his face. In a horror-filled voice, the officer says, "You're going to want a mask."
The two detectives without hesitation each walk over to an officer holding out two masks. The two carefully secure the medical masks to their faces before entering the shack. The cottage itself smells of lilac and rosemary. A neat stone chimney stands in the corner alongside an iron wood burning stove that has a pile of neatly chopped wood stacked against the cabin wall.
The small kitchen holds excellent crafted wooden cupboards filled with dishes and dry food items. There are tiny hooks on the kitchen hall that hold up pots and other kitchen utensils. There is a small table for two in the middle of the kitchen with two exquisitely carved wooden chairs. To the left of the kitchen is a dyed wooden closet filled with neatly hung clothing. To the right of that is a twin-size bed with embroidered pillows and covers. On either side of the bed are small nightstands that hold more folded clothing and feminine underwear.
The final piece of furniture in the small shack is a bookshelf filled with romance and mystery novels. Nothing out of the ordinary for a young woman living out in the middle of the woods. It is so charming that more than one officer unconsciously found themselves smitten with the owner of the cottage.
However, directly in the middle of the shack is a large blue rug that has been rolled to the side to reveal an underground entrance with a metal door opening and lock. The metal door had been removed with pliers and had long since been removed from the scene. An iron ladder is bolted to the underground wall plunging 10 feet down below. A careless slip would lead to a nasty fall.
With some hesitation, the detectives carefully climb down the metal ladder into the darkness below. Their eyes adjust to the dim light as generators have been carried down to light the basement with flashlights lightening the walking pathway. Eventually, mage lights will be conjured but the mage members of the police force are much too busy to do so for now.
Detective Locke and Detective Myers follow the flashlight pathway, a haunting trail in the dark, damp tunnel. The sound of rustling grows stronger as bright lights up ahead cause their eyes to sting. The two detectives blink the tears from their eyes as they emerge into a brightly lit concrete, cement room.
Amid the madness is Sergeant Judy Jensen. Officers and other personnel scurry around like ants collecting and processing evidence. Sergeant Jensen turns around to face them, carefully keeping her face devoid of emotion. "So, what did the victim have to say?" Sergeant Jensen distantly asked.
"Nothing much, other than the freak responsible is a woman," Detective Locke drily stated as his eyes come to rest upon a corpse. Even in death, the woman's corpse is breathtakingly beautiful. The cause of the woman's death is evident as a pair of scissors had been violently inserted into her throat.
Sergeant Jensen bitterly grunts, "That's what we figured too," as she points to the corpse. "The bitch really did a number on the kids before killing them."
Detective Myers swallows down the bile that the image recalled. "From the description of the victim, the killer thought she was a goddess with the power over life and death," Detective Myers queasily said.
A handsome tan man with a nicely trimmed beard approaches from behind and adds, "That fits with my preliminary evaluation as well. The killer enjoyed the feeling of power and control over every single action of her victims. Our surviving victim only survived as long as she did, because our killer needed a spectator, a final witness to her power. Some of the most deranged serial killers are the most egotistical of beings. Everything at the scene suggests my initial assessment, but I won't be able to create a full psyche until we finish processing the scene."
"Thank you, Doctor Amir," Sergeant Jensen sincerely said as Doctor Amir briskly moves on to recollect more information. The detectives are quiet as Sergeant Jensen frowns and her phone starts ringing. Sergeant Jensen frowns in resignation but swiftly walks up the stairs to take the call. Her superiors weren't going to be happy with the news.
*
The citizens of Emerald City and the nation are in an uproar regarding the findings of Classroom 13. The citizens were shocked upon seeing the corpse of the killer that had committed such atrocities. Such a beautiful woman was the culprit behind the disappearance of class 13? It was impossible to believe, but all the incriminating evidence suggested otherwise.
The identity of the Killer was never officially confirmed despite the police and the public citizen's efforts. The police force and the masses would just have to be satisfied that the culprit had been caught and justice had been wrought. But even with the case being solved, it was still a mystery on how the killer had gotten into the Summerfield Conservatory? Without proof only, speculation could be given but it was widely believed that it was the killer's gift that allowed her to do so.
With the closing of the case of Classroom 13, the students were officially declared dead. But there was an unconfirmed rumor suggesting that there was a survivor to the massacre. Despite the media's best efforts, nothing was ever confirmed. Conspiracies were still rampant as the mystery of Classroom 13 would never be entirely solved. These unanswered questions would haunt many as the who, how, and why, would never be entirely answered.