Chapter 2: The First Layer
Detective Yahya Kasim stood outside the Denavolt estate, the cold night air biting his face as he flicked his cigarette into the gutter. This case was bizarre and unsettling in ways that went beyond a simple death. That look on the victim's face, those strange symbols, and the icy chill despite the fire all gnawed at his instincts.
His thoughts were interrupted by the crunch of footsteps on gravel. Emerging from the mist was Inspector Warren Hanif, his long overcoat flapping slightly in the evening breeze. In his hands was a deck of cards, but these weren't ordinary cards. Yahya caught a glimpse of the designs: intricate patterns reminiscent of wayang kulit. Warren shuffled them with practised ease, a habit Yahya had seen before when the older man was lost in thought.
"Ah, there he is," Warren greeted, his grin faintly visible in the dim light. "Cinderfire's newest detective, already neck-deep in weirdness. Welcome to the Ninth Division."
Yahya smirked. "You threw me into the deep end, didn't you?"
Warren chuckled, flipping a card into the air and catching it. "Consider it your initiation. The city doesn't have time to ease anyone in."
Yahya raised an eyebrow at the theatrics, but his attention quickly shifted back to the case. "The victim—Denavolt—he didn't just die. He saw something. Something that scared him to death. And those markings…"
Warren's shuffling paused for a moment, his expression growing serious. "You're sharp, Kasim. That's good. You'll need to be."
"Need to be for what?" Yahya pressed, narrowing his eyes.
Warren resumed his shuffling, the cards making a soft, rhythmic sound. "Not everything in this city is going to fit into your reports. And this case… it's just the surface. Cinderfire has layers. You've just uncovered the first one."
Yahya frowned, uneasy at Warren's cryptic tone. "Layers? What are you talking about?"
Warren pulled a card from the deck and showed it to Yahya—a figure cloaked in shadows, its edges faintly glowing. It resembled one of the symbols etched into the Denavolt estate's floorboards. "This city has its secrets, Kasim. You'll learn them in time. For now, focus on what's in front of you."
The inspector slipped the card back into the deck and turned to leave, the mist swallowing him. "Tomorrow, you'll meet the team. A colourful bunch, but they'll help you make sense of all this."
Yahya stood in silence, watching the fog swallow the inspector. The mention of layers and a mysterious team left him unsettled. He turned back toward the estate, the chill of the night seeping into his bones.
Later that evening, Yahya returned to his modest flat in the industrial district. The street was quiet, save for the hum of motorbikes and the faint chatter of late-night mamak stalls closing for the night. The smell of grease and charcoal lingered in the air—someone had been grilling satay earlier.
Inside, the flat was simple: creaking wooden floors, a single fan spinning lazily overhead, and a small table by the window. Yahya pulled out a packet of roti canai and a tub of leftover curry from a local stall. His meals had been this way for years—quick, comforting, and familiar.
He sat down and unwrapped the food, taking a sip from a lukewarm mug of hot tea. His eyes wandered to an old photograph pinned to the wall. It showed his parents, smiling in front of their kampung house, the lush greenery of ketapang trees in the background.
"A team, huh?" he muttered, dipping the roti into the curry. The warmth of the meal filled him, but he longed for a home-cooked meal. His mother is a very good cook and his father's laughter felt like distant memories, lost in the haze of time and pain.
Yahya leaned back in his chair, staring into the foggy cityscape outside his window. Warren's words echoed in his mind. Layers. Secrets. He had the sinking feeling that this wasn't just another case.
The shadows outside seemed to press closer, as though the city itself was alive, watching. Yahya closed his eyes and sighed. Tomorrow, he'd meet the team. But tonight, the city's whispers kept him company.