The station was quieter than usual, a stark contrast to the chaos of the last few days. Ayo sat in the dimly lit archive room, his eyes locked on the grainy footage from the USB drive. His fingers drummed against the table, his mind racing.
Bimpe stood nearby, arms crossed. "Let me get this straight. The video isn't old. He shot it recently, using the same interrogation room where you worked years ago."
Ayo nodded. "Which means he was here. In this building."
Bimpe let out a slow breath. "And no one noticed?"
Ayo leaned forward. "This isn't just a game to him. He's not just revisiting my past. He's making sure I relive it."
The door creaked open, and Inspector Goke walked in. "We found something," he said, tossing a sealed evidence bag onto the table. Inside was a crumpled piece of paper with a single red ribbon tied around it.
Ayo carefully unfolded the note. The message, written in the same red ink as before, read: "You're getting closer, Detective. But so am I."
Bimpe clenched her fists. "He's taunting us."
Ayo's jaw tightened. "No. He's setting the stage."
Later that night, Ayo sat in his car outside an old warehouse on the outskirts of Lagos. He had followed the clues, traced the patterns. If he was right, the Ribbon Reaper would make his next move here.
Bimpe's voice crackled through the radio. "Are you sure about this? You're going in alone?"
"I need to see it for myself," Ayo replied. "Stay on standby. If I don't check in every five minutes, you move in."
He stepped out of the car, the cold air biting against his skin. The warehouse loomed ahead, its rusted doors slightly ajar. A single flickering light illuminated the entrance.
Ayo drew his gun and moved cautiously inside. The air smelled of damp wood and rusted metal. His footsteps echoed against the concrete floor.
Then, a voice. Soft, mocking.
"I was wondering when you'd get here."
Ayo spun, his weapon raised. A figure stood in the shadows, the dim light barely outlining his frame.
"Show yourself!" Ayo barked.
A low chuckle. Then, the figure stepped forward. He wore a dark hood, his face obscured. A red ribbon dangled from his fingers.
Ayo's grip tightened on his gun. "Who are you?"
The Ribbon Reaper tilted his head. "Isn't that what you've been trying to figure out all this time?"
Ayo took a slow step forward. "You've been inside my station. You've been watching us."
The Reaper sighed theatrically. "Oh, Ayo. You still don't get it, do you? This isn't just about watching. This is about rewriting history."
Ayo's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
The Reaper held up a small recorder and pressed play. A familiar voice filled the air Ayo's own voice from an old interrogation tape.
Ayo felt his stomach tighten. "Where did you get that?"
The Reaper ignored the question. "Tell me, Detective… how much of your past do you really remember?"
Before Ayo could react, the lights cut out. The warehouse plunged into darkness.
Outside, Bimpe's patience wore thin. She checked her watch. Five minutes had passed. No check-in.
She grabbed her radio. "Team, move in. Now."
She and her officers stormed the warehouse, their flashlights cutting through the dark. "Ayo?" Bimpe called out.
Silence.
Then a gunshot.
Bimpe's heart lurched. She turned the corner just in time to see a shadow darting through a back exit. She fired, but the figure disappeared into the night.
Then, her flashlight landed on Ayo. He was slumped against a stack of crates, clutching his side. Blood seeped through his fingers.
"Damn it," Bimpe cursed, rushing to his side. "Stay with me."
Ayo winced. "He… got away."
"Forget him. Let's get you out of here."
Hours later, Ayo sat in the station's medical room, his wound dressed. Bimpe paced in front of him, frustration evident on her face.
"You should be in the hospital," she snapped.
"I've had worse," Ayo muttered.
Bimpe shook her head. "You let him get inside your head."
Ayo exhaled. "He's playing a long game. And I think… I think he knows something about me that even I don't."
Bimpe frowned. "What are you saying?"
Ayo looked at the USB drive still clutched in his hand. "I think the past I remember isn't the full story."
Bimpe crossed her arms. "You think the Reaper is linked to something in your past?"
Ayo nodded. "I don't just think about it. I know it."
Bimpe exhaled sharply. "Then we need to figure out what he knows that we don't."
Ayo clenched the USB drive. "And we need to do it before he makes his next move."
The station was quieter than usual the next morning. Ayo sat in the interrogation room, replaying the footage from the drive over and over again. Each time, he looked for something new, some hidden detail that would tell him where to look next.
Inspector Goke walked in. "We did some digging. The interrogation in the footage? There's no official record of it."
Ayo looked up. "How is that possible?"
"The records from that time are… incomplete," Goke admitted. "If someone tampered with them, it happened years ago."
Bimpe entered, a file in her hands. "I found something." She dropped a black-and-white photograph onto the table. Ayo picked it up.
It was a picture of a man bound to a chair, his face bruised.
The caption read: Tunde Bakare 2013.
Ayo's stomach dropped. "I know this man."
Bimpe nodded. "That's the suspect in your missing interrogation."
Ayo's fingers traced the edges of the photograph. "If this was my case… why don't I remember it?"
Bimpe met his gaze. "That's the real question, isn't it?"
Ayo leaned back, gripping the USB drive tightly. "If the Ribbon Reaper wants me to remember… then it's time we uncover what someone tried so hard to make me forget."
As Ayo and Bimpe poured over the files, another message arrived. A single red ribbon tied to the station's main entrance. A sign that the Reaper wasn't done yet.
Ayo exchanged a look with Bimpe. "This time, we made the first move."
Bimpe nodded. "Let's end this."