The wind howled through the trees, bending their branches like skeletal fingers against the darkened sky. Rain fell in relentless sheets, transforming the quiet suburban street into a blur of shadows and glistening pavement. In the middle of this storm, a lone figure moved stealthily, cloaked in a dark raincoat and hood, blending seamlessly with the night.
The figure paused at the edge of a small, abandoned house. Its once-white paint now peeled in long strips, and the windows were boarded up, giving it an air of desolation. With a quick glance around, the figure slipped through a gap in the fence, making its way to the overgrown backyard.
Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the scene. The backyard was a tangled mess of weeds and forgotten memories. Amid the chaos, the figure knelt beside a partially dug hole, the wet earth slick and muddy. They worked quickly, hands moving with practiced efficiency, placing a small bundle into the ground. Another flash of lightning revealed a child's toy—a small, battered teddy bear—half-buried among the dirt.
The figure stood, their task complete. It took a moment to survey their work, ensuring that nothing appeared out of place. With a final, furtive glance around, the figure turned and melted back into the shadows, leaving the storm to cover their tracks.
Three days ago
Miles away, in the heart of the city, Detective Alex Harper stared out of his apartment window, watching the rain with a bottle of half-finished single malt whiskey. The city never slept, and tonight was no exception. The neon lights reflected off the slick streets, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that danced through the darkness. Harper's thoughts, however, were far from the city's vibrant life.
His phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, its insistent vibration pulling him from his reverie. He picked it up, seeing the caller ID—Captain Raymond. Harper's stomach tightened. Raymond rarely called him this late unless it was important.
"Harper," he answered, his voice rough with fatigue.
"Alex, we've got a situation," Raymond's voice crackled through the line, filled with urgency. "There's been a murder. It's... it's like the Johnson case from ten years ago."
Harper felt a chill run down his spine. The Johnson case had haunted him for a decade, a grim reminder of his one unsolved case. "Where?"
"Corner of Elm and Fifth. You need to see this for yourself."
"I'm on my way," Harper replied, already grabbing his coat and keys.
As he drove through the rain-soaked streets, Harper's mind raced. The Johnson case had been his first major investigation—a young mother brutally murdered, the killer never found. The similarities between that case and the one Raymond described could not be a coincidence. Someone was sending a message, and it was up to Harper to decipher it.
Pulling up to the crime scene, Harper was met with the familiar sight of flashing police lights and yellow tape. Officers milled about, trying to keep the growing crowd of onlookers at bay. He ducked under the tape and made his way towards Raymond, who stood near the victim's covered body.
"What have we got?" Harper asked, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him.
Raymond pulled back the sheet, revealing the victim—a young woman, her lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. The scene was eerily reminiscent of the Johnson case. Same age, same method of murder, even the same placement of the body.
"It's like déjà vu," Raymond muttered. "Everything's the same as 10 years ago."
Harper's grip tightened on the statement, the words burning into his mind. This wasn't just a murder. It was a challenge. A ghost from his past had returned, and this time, failure was not an option.
As the rain continued to pour, Harper knew one thing for certain: the hunt was on, and this time, he would not rest until justice was served.