James Kamau's legs burned as he sprinted through the dimly lit streets, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The weight of the note in his pocket felt heavier with every step, a cruel reminder of the threat that had upended his life.
He darted past the familiar landmarks of his neighborhood, his eyes scanning every shadow, every alley. Paranoia gnawed at him, turning even the rustling of leaves into sinister whispers.
When the precinct finally came into view, its glowing sign standing like a beacon in the dark, James felt a brief surge of relief. But the fear didn't dissipate; it lingered, coiled tightly around his chest.
He burst through the glass doors, startling the desk sergeant.
"Detective Carter," James gasped. "I need to see Detective Carter."
The sergeant raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the frantic young man in front of him. "He's in the back. Wait here, I'll get him."
James paced the small waiting area, his thoughts racing. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, amplifying the tension in the room.
He glanced at the door every few seconds, half-expecting someone to burst in after him. When Carter finally appeared, his no-nonsense demeanor made James's knees feel weak with a mix of hope and dread.
"James, isn't it?" Carter's gravelly voice matched his weathered appearance. "What's going on?"
"Detective," James began, his voice trembling. He pulled the crumpled note from his pocket and handed it over. "I… I got this yesterday. On my locker. It's… it's a threat. It says I'm next."
Carter's brow furrowed as he examined the note. "Next for what?"
"I don't know," James admitted. "But something's wrong. Ever since I found it, I… I feel like someone's been watching me. Following me." His voice cracked as he continued. "And last night, I'm sure someone was in my apartment. I heard a noise, and there was a handprint on the window… It wasn't mine."
Carter's expression darkened, but he kept his tone measured. "Did you see anyone? A car, maybe? Any clues about who left the note?"
James shook his head. "No. I… I think someone was following me earlier tonight, but I couldn't get a good look. It feels like… like they're always just out of sight."
Carter leaned back in his chair, studying James intently. "Alright. Let's go over this carefully. Start from the beginning."
As James recounted the events of the past two days, his words tumbled out in a frantic rush. He described the note, the uneasy feeling of being watched, the possible car tailing him, and the unmistakable handprint on his window.
The more he spoke, the more the paranoia seemed to seep into his voice, his eyes darting toward the door as though expecting an intruder at any moment.
"You believe me, don't you?" James asked desperately. "I'm not imagining this. Someone… someone is out there."
Carter's face remained impassive, but he gave a small nod. "I believe you're scared, James Kamau. And I believe someone left you this note. But I need more to go on. Do you have enemies? Anyone who'd want to hurt you?"
"No," James replied quickly, then hesitated. "At least, I don't think so. I keep to myself. I… I can't think of anyone who'd do this."
Carter sighed, leaning forward. "Look, we'll run the note for prints and check for any connections to the campus murders. But I'll be honest with you—this murderer is smart. They've covered their tracks so well that even our best leads have gone cold. I can't promise we'll find anything."
James's chest tightened at the words. "So… what am I supposed to do?"
Carter's eyes softened slightly. "Stay vigilant. Keep your doors locked, avoid being alone at night, and report anything unusual immediately. But official protection?" He shook his head. "We're stretched thin, Kamau. I wish I could station an officer outside your door, but resources are limited."
"You mean I'm on my own," James said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I didn't say that," Carter replied. "We're here. Call us the moment something happens. But you need to be careful. Whoever this killer is, they're not just dangerous—they're calculating. Don't make yourself an easy target."
James nodded, but the reassurance felt hollow. How could he stay safe when every step he took felt like walking into a trap? As Carter walked him to the door, James hesitated on the threshold.
But in the meantime, you need to stay calm. If someone's targeting you, panicking will only make things worse. Keep your doors locked, stay in public places, and call us if anything else happens."
James nodded, but the words felt hollow. How could he stay calm when every fiber of his being screamed danger? As Carter walked him to the door, James hesitated on the threshold.
"What if they're watching me now?" he whispered.
Carter placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Then we'll catch them. But you have to trust us, Kamau. We'll figure this out."
James stepped out into the night, the cold air biting at his skin. The street felt emptier than before, the shadows deeper. He clutched his jacket tightly as he began the walk back to his apartment, every step accompanied by the haunting sensation of eyes on his back. He didn't dare look behind him. He wasn't sure he'd like what he'd see.