The interrogation room buzzed with tension. Ayo sat across from Tunde Ajayi, the victim they had rescued. Tunde's hands trembled as he clutched a cup of water, his eyes darting to the two-way mirror.
"Tunde," Ayo began, his tone measured. "You're safe now. But we need answers. What did he say to you?"
Tunde's voice was barely a whisper. "He said... he said it wasn't over. That was just the beginning."
Bimpe, leaning against the wall, let out a frustrated sigh. "Typical. He loves his riddles. Did he give you anything? A note, a symbol, anything?"
"No," Tunde stammered. "But he... he kept saying your name, Detective Daramola. He said you'd understand."
Ayo's jaw tightened. He pushed a photo of the Ribbon Reaper's mask across the table. "Did he wear this?"
Tunde nodded, his face pale. "Yes. And the ribbon. Always the ribbon."
Bimpe straightened. "So, he's making this personal." She turned to Ayo. "What's the plan?"
In the briefing room, the tension was palpable. Officers crowded around the whiteboard as Ayo outlined the latest developments. The USB drive's video played on a loop, showing his younger self in the interrogation room.
"We've got two leads," Ayo said, tapping the board. "The General Hospital is still in play. And this video? It's a message. He's dragging my past into this."
"That video is years old," Bimpe interjected. "How'd he even get it?"
"Doesn't matter," Ayo replied. "What matters is what he's planning next. He wants us to chase him, so let's turn the tables."
"You've got an idea?" Bimpe asked.
Ayo's eyes narrowed. "We're going back to the hospital. But this time, we're bringing the fight to him."
Night had fallen by the time Ayo and his team arrived at the General Hospital. The building loomed in the darkness, its windows like empty eyes watching their every move.
"Remember the plan," Ayo said, addressing the team. "Stick to your zones. Watch each other's backs. And no one goes off alone."
Bimpe gave him a wry smile. "Don't worry, boss. I'm not looking to be anyone's next victim."
As they entered the building, the air grew thick with silence. Flashlights swept across the walls, illuminating graffiti and remnants of the hospital's past. Every creak and distant sound set nerves on edge.
"West wing clear," came Tunde's voice over the radio.
"East wing clear," Bimpe added.
Ayo moved toward the stairwell, his flashlight cutting through the gloom. "Heading to the third floor. Stay alert."
On the third floor, Ayo's steps slowed. A faint, rhythmic tapping echoed through the corridor. He raised his weapon, his eyes scanning the darkness.
"Bimpe," he whispered into his radio. "Do you hear that?"
"Negative," she replied. "What is it?"
The tapping grew louder. Ayo followed the sound to a room at the end of the hallway. He pushed the door open, revealing a figure seated in a chair, back turned to him.
"Hands where I can see them!" Ayo commanded, his voice firm.
The figure didn't move. Ayo stepped closer, his weapon trained. As he circled the chair, he saw it was a mannequin, dressed in a police uniform. A red ribbon was tied around its neck, and a recorder rested in its lap.
Ayo pressed play. The Ribbon Reaper's voice filled the room.
"Welcome back, Detective. Did you enjoy our little reunion? Shall we revisit your sins?"
The recorder clicked off. Ayo's radio crackled.
"Ayo, we've got something," Bimpe's voice came through, urgent. "Ground floor, old maternity ward."
"On my way," Ayo replied, his pulse quickening.
In the maternity ward, Bimpe stood over a table with a fresh note pinned to it. The words were scrawled in red ink: "Tick-tock, Detective. The clock is running out."
"He's watching us," Bimpe said, her voice tight. "He's always one step ahead."
Ayo picked up the note, his mind racing. "This is leading somewhere. We just have to figure out where."
Suddenly, a rustling noise came from the far end of the corridor. Both detectives turned sharply, guns raised.
"Who's there?" Bimpe called out.
Ayo took a cautious step forward, his pulse pounding. The corridor stretched long and dark before them. Then a shadow moved.
Ayo lunged, sprinting down the hallway. He turned the corner just in time to see a figure slipping through an open door.
"Stop!" he barked, but the figure vanished into the night.
Bimpe caught up to him, panting. "Damn it! We were close."
Ayo slammed his fist against the wall. "Too close. But next time, we won't just be chasing ghosts."
Back at the station, the team poured over the evidence. Ayo stood at the whiteboard, connecting dots and forming theories.
"The Reaper's playing a game," he said. "But every game has rules. We just need to find the pattern."
"We know he wants you to follow him," Bimpe added. "He's baiting you."
Ayo nodded. "Then let's use it against him."
Bimpe frowned. "That's dangerous."
"So is he," Ayo said. "But I'm done being one step behind."
The room fell silent as his words sank in. The Ribbon Reaper's shadow loomed over them, but Ayo was determined to bring him into the light. The countdown had begun, and the clock was ticking.
Ayo sat alone in his office, the dim glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows. He picked up the USB drive again, his fingers tightening around it. There was something about the video that kept nagging at him.
Replaying the footage, he focused on the background details, the flickering light, the old clock in the corner. His heart skipped a beat. That clock had been removed from the station years ago. Which meant... the video wasn't as old as they thought.
He grabbed his phone and dialed Bimpe. "Meet me in the archive room. Now."
Minutes later, Bimpe arrived, slightly out of breath. "What is it?"
Ayo pointed to an old case file. "Look at this. The same clock. The same chair. This video isn't from years ago, it's from somewhere recent. He's not just revisiting my past. He's recreating it."
Bimpe's face paled. "Then he went inside this station. Recently."
Ayo nodded grimly. "We've been looking for him out there, but he's already here."
The realization sent a shiver down both their spines. The Ribbon Reaper wasn't just taunting them,he was right under their noses, watching their every move.
And the next move? It was his.