The rain drummed a steady rhythm against the pavement as I made my way back to my apartment, thoughts churning with the possibilities Marcus had unveiled.
The city streets, usually alive with the late-night hustle, were eerily quiet—each step echoing in the absence of sound.
Arriving at my building, I paused to glance up at the dimly lit windows. My apartment seemed distant, like a sanctuary that had frayed at the edges, much like the relationships inside. I pushed open the main door, the familiar creak echoing in the empty hallway as I made my way to the stairs.
As I climbed the steps, a cold draft whispered past, raising goosebumps on my skin. I reached my floor and fumbled with the keys, the routine of unlocking the door momentarily grounding me. Pushing the door open, I stepped into my darkened apartment.
Something was off.
I hesitated, scanning the room. The air felt charged, like the crackle before a storm. Silhouettes from the parted curtains painted shifting shadows across the walls. I inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the sense of being watched.
I was determined not to let paranoia take hold, I flicked on the light. The room sprang into sharp relief, revealing its familiar yet subtly altered state. My heart skipped a beat. The living room was far too tidy—a stark contrast to the chaos of papers and case files I usually left scattered.
Someone had been here.
I set my bag down carefully, mind racing through a checklist: windows locked, valuables untouched, the front door undamaged. And yet, an unnerving certainty whispered that I wasn't alone.
Eery fiber in my body was on alert. I was scared and I did not like this. I moved toward the hallway. The bedroom door stood afar, a sliver of darkness pooling into the corridor. Reaching for my service weapon, I inched forward.
I pushed the door open slowly. My pulse quickened. There, on the neatly made bed, was an envelope. It was white against the gray comforter.
It wasn't mine or Reid's.
I got closer, keeping my gun ready. Everything seemed in place, except for that envelope.
I lowered the gun slightly and reached for the envelope. I noticed a faint smell of unfamiliar cologne. One word was written on the outside in red ink: *Detective*.
A chill ran down my spine.
I carefully opened the envelope and took out a sheet of paper. The words, typed neatly, filled me with dread:
*You think you're on the right path, Detective Gray? Let's see how far you're willing to follow it. Welcome to my game.*
There was no signature. It was The Puzzler's taunt.
I felt uneasy as I realized the intruder had been in my home. The Puzzler had come directly to me.
I looked around, noticing every shadow. The apartment no longer felt safe. It felt invaded.
How did he even get in? How could he possibly have gotten the key?
The Puzzler was watching and waiting. The game's rules were changing, and I was stuck in the middle.
I put the note back into the envelope and tucked it into my pocket. I knew it was too late to catch him. He had already left, leaving only a sense of danger behind.
Despite feeling uneasy and scared, I felt determined. This was personal now. The Puzzler had ensured that.
I knew I couldn't solve this alone. Not with Reid keeping secrets, and not with Marcus whose loyalties were unclear. I needed a plan. I would play this game, but under my own conditions.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I was hoping it was just Reid messing with me but I knew it wasn't him.
For now, I scanned the room one last time. I knew shadows could hide more than just darkness.
The Puzzler had entered my home, but one thing was clear. I would be ready for his next move.