Two weeks had passed since the accident, and everyone involved was grateful to have escaped with their lives. The car had been crushed like paper, but miraculously, there were no major injuries.
Rachel sat in front of the computer screen, scrolling through the notes on the accident. As she read, her mind began to wander back to that day. She had been a cop for eight years and had seen her fair share of strange and unusual things. But nothing could have prepared her for what she witnessed on the day of the accident.
A shiver ran down Rachel's spine as she recalled the image of car crashing into the truck. It was a miracle that anyone had survived. But it was what happened next that still had Rachel's mind reeling. She had seen something that defied explanation, something that had left her questioning everything she thought she knew about the world.
Rachel tried to shake off the unsettling memory, telling no one about what she had seen. She attempted to focus on the task at hand, but her mind kept wandering back to the accident.
Just then, Jesse's voice cut through the din of the office, shouting from the coffee station. "Rach, how far are you on the Ironheimer case?"
Rachel sighed, rubbing her temples. She had been trying to connect the dots between the gruesome murders and the string of robberies, but nothing seemed to add up. Three people had been found dead, with certain body parts missing, and the only lead was a suspect from 145th Street. But the evidence just didn't seem to fit.
"I'm still trying to piece together the evidence," Rachel replied, frustration creeping into her voice. "But I'm not getting anywhere. It's like the killer is always one step ahead of us."
Jesse walked over to Rachel's desk, a concerned look on his face. "You okay, Rach? You seem a little off."
Rachel forced a smile, trying to brush off her unease. "I'm fine, Jesse. Just a little tired. Let's focus on cracking this case."
Rachel brought John Timber, the 56-year-old suspect in Maxwell's shooting, into the interrogation room. She began to show him the crime scene pictures, her eyes locked on his as she started the interrogation.
But John's reaction was not what Rachel had expected. He lurched at her, his teeth bared as he tried to bite her. "He's coming!" he screamed three times, his eyes wild with fear.
Then, just as suddenly, John went limp in his chair, his body slumping forward. Rachel's heart was racing as she rushed out of the room to find Kim, the station's resident doctor.
Kim followed Rachel back into the interrogation room, her eyes fixed on John's lifeless body. "What happened?" she asked, her voice calm and professional.
Rachel filled her in on the details, still trying to process what had just occurred. Kim began to examine John's body, her expression growing more and more concerned.
"We need to get him to the morgue for a full autopsy," Kim said finally, her voice firm. "Let's get some help in here to move the body."
As they waited for assistance, Rachel couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. John's behavior had been bizarre, to say the least. And what had he meant by "He's coming"?
Rachel was fuming as she sat at her desk, trying to write a report on the bizarre events that had just transpired. She was still trying to process what had happened in the interrogation room.
Just as she was starting to make progress on the report, her phone rang. "Rachel, what happened?" her Kim asked, her voice firm but concerned.
Rachel took a deep breath and launched into a detailed account of the events, from the interrogation to John's sudden and inexplicable death.
Four hours later, the coroner was making his way to the station to pronounce John's death and sign the necessary papers. Rachel watched as the coroner examined the body, his expression somber.
"It's official," the coroner said finally, signing the papers. "John Timber is deceased."
Rachel felt a sense of relief wash over her, but it was short-lived. She knew that this case was far from over. In fact, it was only just beginning.
he coroner began the autopsy, carefully cutting into John's body to determine the cause of death. Meanwhile, his assistant made a phone call to notify John's next of kin.
As the coroner examined the chest cavity, he expected to see John's heart. But to his astonishment, it was missing. He probed the area, searching for any sign of the organ, but it was nowhere to be found.
Suddenly, a grotesque, greenish-black speck emerged from the empty space where the heart should have been. It hovered in the air for a moment before shooting out of the room, escaping through the ventilation system.
The coroner and his assistant stood frozen in terror, their eyes wide with confusion and fear. They stared at each other, unsure of what to say or do next. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of their own ragged breathing.