Written by: Van_Carley

MEXICO CITY, MEXICO

August 22, 10:00 AM

It started with a dead body, and the number thirty burned into the victim's forehead.

Murder wasn't unheard of in Detective Mateo Moreno's line of work, but this was different. There didn't seem to be a rhyme or reason connecting the murders, other than the numbers, and by day five, when a fifth victim turned up with a burn, he knew a serial killer was prowling his beloved metropolis of Mexico City.

Now, it was day twenty-two, which meant another body was bound to show up. Yet, it felt like he and his partner were the only ones taking it seriously. He stood at his window, scratching the overgrown stubble on his chin while staring into the yellow haze of smog tainting the sky. While he couldn't prove it, the rapid influx of deaths had to be connected to the UFO's countdown, and there would be more if he didn't find the culprit soon.

Today had to be the day.

"Mateo." Detective Lola Espinoza knocked and stepped into his office. "They found another one."

His shoulders sagged at her words. With his palms braced against the windowsill, he blew out a breath. "Where?"

"Atras del catedral."

Of all the places to find a dead body, behind a church was the last place he would've guessed. Yesterday, one was found in a municipal bathroom at the train station and the day before in a dumpster at a construction site.

What would it be tomorrow?

"Joder!" Mateo cursed and rubbed his temples. "I refuse to have another body turn up on our watch. We have to find the killer today."

"And we will."

A migraine was on the precipice of taking a royal dump on his day, so he reached for the pain medication in his desk and tossed back a few pills. Lola watched with a clenched jaw.

"Que?" he growled.

"I'm worried about you."

"Well, stop."

"That UFO has brought out the worst in you. Look at you. You haven't shaved in days, your morning cup of coffee has turned into five, and you've started smoking again."

"So?"

"You've been nicotine free for ten years, and don't get me started with your temper."

"In case you haven't noticed, Lola, a serial killer is running around Mexico City."

"Oh, I know." But before she continued, she glanced over her shoulder, causing the eavesdroppers to dart their gazes and return to work. With a huff, she closed the office door and glared at Mateo. "You don't sleep. I wake up at night and find you in the living room going over autopsy reports. You're falling apart."

"Then maybe I should go back to sleeping at my place."

It was a low blow. Mateo knew this, but he couldn't take it back. However, Lola wasn't one to submit.

"Yeah, maybe you should. Then your wife will stop asking questions. Besides, I think it's time we cut things off, don't you?"

"Lola, I didn't mean—"

"Uh, huh. Now, how about you gulp down your billionth coffee, so we can get going?"

But she didn't wait for him to reply. Instead, she flung the office door open and walked out with hips swaying.

"Lola, wait. I need to grab my gun."

"Make it snappy!" she shouted.

And despite the many amused gazes flashing back and forth between them, Mateo couldn't help but grin.

Let the gossipers gossip.

***

The blinding sun shone onto the brick-paved piazza, where citizens loitered to watch news updates about the spaceship. Since the arrival of the UFO, most had abandoned going to work, and teenagers ran wild in the streets with alien masks, not giving a damn about school. If that wasn't bad enough, now vendors at the farmer's market were encouraging pandemonium by selling alien trinkets. So when one waved a mask in Mateo and Lola's faces, he tore it out of the man's hand and tossed it on the ground.

"Why don't you all go home?! There's a killer on the loose," he yelled, but everyone stared as if he were crazy.

"Disculpa," Lola apologized to the vendor and dragged Mateo away while scolding him. "You can't do that. Do you want everyone to panic?"

"These people piss me off. And yes, they should be terrified. Not marveling over little green men," he growled.

The latest craze was scammers claiming they had items from the Midnight Zone that contained mystical alien powers, and tourists who couldn't get back home would buy the crap. In fact, everyone was spending money as if these were their last days on Earth.

They were too occupied with extraterrestrials to care about being the killer's next victim.

Then again, how could Mateo expect anyone to take the murders seriously when even the Mayor had refused his request for a citywide lockdown? Instead, he issued a nine PM curfew, which was proving to be useless.

When they arrived at the scene, the cathedral was taped off, and a small crowd stood on tip-toes, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of what was happening. The susurrus of another body being found floated in the air like the buzzing bees, but this wasn't a playground, so Mateo shoved through them, shouting to disperse.

"Largansen!"

"Inspectores." A police officer held open the yellow tape and motioned for them to cross.

"Take us to the victim," Mateo ordered.

"Right this way."

They strode around the back of the cathedral toward the garden where rose bushes bordered a path. The coroner and forensic team were already there and dressed in white coveralls, snapping photos, while others took samples. There, amongst the thorns, was the body. Mateo took a deep breath and pushed aside a few roses to inspect the young man's face.

"Nueve..." he sighed deeply. Just like he feared, the number nine was etched into the victim's forehead.

"Tiene la misma marca?" Lola peered over his shoulder and scribbled into her notepad.

"Yes, the same mark as the others." He nodded. "Dr. Hernandez, what time would you say the victim died?"

The coroner glanced up from her note-taking and teetered her hand. "Media noche."

"You sure?" Mateo rubbed his beard.

"I'll know for certain once I get the body to my lab, but at the moment, my findings point to around midnight."

"Hm..."

"What is it?" Dr. Hernandez asked.

"It's just the times of these deaths are never around the same hour. There is no pattern here."

"Yes, I noticed the same, but you and Detective Espinoza are the best at what you do. I have full confidence you'll find this sicko soon."

"What about this?" Lola grabbed the backpack laying next to the body and removed a student ID card. According to the information, the young man was a nineteen-year-old student at the local university. "Esteban Cruz."

"Que dijiste?" Mateo whipped around and snatched the student ID card from Lola. With wide eyes, he reread the name and cursed, "Mierda."

"What?" Lola furrowed her brows.

"His father is running for twenty-twenty-four Mayor. He's the competition."

Now Lola's eyes widened. "Oh..."

"This has to be more than coincidence. Someone has a vendetta."

"Then we should go talk to the Mayor. See what he has to say. As far as I'm concerned, he's now our suspect."

"Agreed. Let's finish up here."

***

Mayor Zaragoza's hillside home with city views was the epitome of wealth, a far cry from his origins of a barrio with dirt roads and little shacks on the U.S border. When Mateo and Lola arrived, a maid dressed in the traditional black and white uniform opened the door. She escorted them across the Italian terrazzo floor and through the wall-to-wall sliding glass overlooking the expansive backyard. Mrs. Zaragoza was doing laps in the infinity pool with her bleached blonde hair tucked inside a swimming cap, while Mayor Zaragoza paced the edge of the lush green lawn, wearing loafers, white skinny pants, and a silk Versace shirt that revealed his hairy pecs.

He reeked of arrogance.

"Que ridículo," Lola said under her breath. "He thinks he's so sexy."

"Shh..." Mateo elbowed her.

Mayor Zaragoza whipped around with a cell phone pressed to his ear, muttered a goodbye, then stretched out his arms to greet them. "Inspectores. Bienvenidos a mi casa."

"Yes, thank you." Mateo shook his hand. "We've come to inform you that another body was found."

"Ah, yes. I just heard the unfortunate news." He motioned for them to follow him to the poolside cantina, where a worker mixed up drinks. "Would you like a cantaloupe cooler?"

"Sure, I'll have one." Lola reached out, then pointed at the news broadcast on the flatscreen TV above the bar. "Now what's happening?"

"It's the great bug migration!" the Mayor chuckled. "Every critter you can think of is moving away from the spacecraft in droves, but it's not only up north. I saw a video yesterday from East India, where there are so many locusts that they block out the sun. And southern Europe is getting invaded by cicadas. Can you imagine all that hissing they make? It would drive me crazy. But don't think we're lucky. Monarch butterflies are suddenly migrating this way."

"Why is that awful? Butterflies are beautiful," Lola said.

"Because it's swarms of them! There are so many, it looks like bats in the sky."

Mateo gripped the sides of his seat. "Well, it's still nothing to worry about."

"But it's not autumn, yet," the Mayor continued. "It's too early to start their migration to Mexico. This could mess up the ecosystem."

"Still, we have bigger worries. Like a serial killer, which is why we are here," Mateo huffed.

"Oh, no, dear Inspector. Our biggest worry is what'll happen when that UFO runs out of numbers."

"And in the meantime, you want us to sit back while a killer runs the streets, murdering our people?"

"If these are our last days, then let everyone enjoy them." The Mayor wagged his finger. "This is why I refused a citywide lockdown. No one should spend their last breaths stuck inside."

Mateo glanced around the well-manicured yard and smirked. What a damn hypocrite. Gardeners wiped the sweat from their sun-drenched foreheads, and somewhere inside, the maid was running the vacuum. Sure, everyone should enjoy their final days, but not his employees. No, they were still expected to keep his house pristine.

"Que pasa, mi amor?" Mrs. Zaragoza approached, a towel around her waist as she shook out her bleached blonde hair from the swim cap.

"Los Inspectores have come to give us the news about Esteban Cruz."

"What about him?" she turned to the bartender and ordered a daiquiri.

"He was found murdered this morning," Lola said.

"What?"

"With the number nine burned into his forehead."

"Dios mio..."

Tears stung Mrs. Zaragoza's eyes, so she turn away fluffing her hair with a sneaky swipe of her cheeks. She seemed to be taking the news a lot harder than the Mayor, but Mateo would scratch that curiosity later.

"Mayor Zaragoza, where were you last night around midnight?" he asked.

"Me? I was here."

"Sleeping?"

"No, he was up late," Mrs. Zaragoza said, which caused the Mayor to force out a laugh.

"Sí, mi amor. Because I was doing a late-night workout in our gym."

"Where is your gym?" Lola asked.

"Next to the pool house."

"I see." Lola jotted down notes. "And can anyone else attest to you being here?"

"Just talk to Fernando, my trainer. He'll confirm it."

"Your trainer provides workout sessions late at night?"

"Well, I do pay him ten grand a month to be at my beck and call, so yes."

"Noted."

"Wait a damn minute..." The Mayor held up his hand. "Am I a suspect?"

"Esteban Cruz is your competitor's son, is he not?" Mateo asked.

"So? When the countdown hits zero, it won't matter who runs for Mayor next year."

"Ah, but if nothing happens, then murdering Esteban to weaken your opponent wouldn't be out of the question."

The Mayor's mouth formed a tight line as he sucked a breath of disgust through his teeth, and if he had been an animal, his fangs would've been showing. "Get out of my house. This meeting is over."

"Fine." Mateo got in his face. "But I'm telling you right now, if you're the serial killer, I will be back here so fast to slap handcuffs on your wrists. You might be mayor, but this is my city."

"Let's go." Lola gripped his elbow, but neither man budged as they locked gazes. "Ándale, Mateo! Let's go."

Finally, Mateo dropped their ego-filled pissing contest and exited the mansion. This was the closest lead they had to finding the killer, and deep in his gut, he knew they would be back.

"Did you see how Mrs. Zaragoza reacted to the news of Esteban?" Lola said as they climbed into their car.

"I did."

"What do you think is going on there?"

"Well, based on the telenovelas my mother watches, my guess is Mrs. Zaragoza was having a torrid affair with Esteban Cruz."

"But he was only nineteen years old. Just a boy."

"But of legal age."

"True. Now what?"

"We should visit the Cruz family. Maybe some answers are waiting for us there." Mateo shifted the car into drive but paused when he noticed someone in the rearview mirror. "Is that the trainer?"

"You mean that hot buff guy walking up the driveway?"

"Yes, him." Mateo rolled his eyes and hopped out of the car to flag the trainer down. "Fernando, correct?"

"Yes. May I help you?"

"We need to verify where you were yesterday between ten PM and midnight."

"I was here."

"Doing?"

"Mayor Zaragoza called me for a late session. He's been very stressed with the campaign for next year's election. Plus, the UFO." Fernando pointed to the sky.

"And did the two of you go anywhere?" Lola asked.

"No. The house has everything I need to provide Mayor Zaragoza a thorough workout."

Mateo rubbed his chin in thought. "And what about Mrs. Zaragoza? Was she here?"

"Now that you mention it, I saw her car pull out of the driveway."

"What time?"

"I honestly don't know, but she likes doing yoga down at the Namaste Studio. They have late sessions."

"I see, and how long do your sessions run?"

"However long the Mayor wants. Last night was about two hours, and then we sat in the cantina drinking protein shakes."

"And how long did that last?"

"I think I left here around one AM." Fernando bowed his head sheepishly. "I'm going through a rough breakup, and the Mayor is a good man to talk to."

"I see." Mateo nodded. "Did you notice if Mrs. Zaragoza had returned by then?"

"She parks in the garage, so I honestly don't know."

"Thank you for your time, Fernando. You've been a great help."

As Mateo and Lola drove away, he had this itchy feeling about Mrs. Zaragoza. Hopefully, there would be more answers in Esteban's home.

***

Unlike the Mayor, Guillermo Cruz and his family lived in a highrise condo close to the city square. When Mateo and Lola arrived, police were already in the apartment, along with sniffling family members. Guillermo sat on the edge of the leather couch, his head in his hands, sobbing, while his second eldest son stared in a daze, his eyes red from crying.

"Mis condolencias," Mateo said, causing Guillermo to look up.

"Inspector Moreno, do you know who did this monstrous thing to my son?"

"We have a lead we're pursuing."

"Who?"

"We cannot say yet, but when we know for certain, you'll be the first to know."

"May we look through Esteban's room?" Lola asked. "Perhaps there are clues we can find as to who did this."

"Sure. Go right ahead. It's down the hallway and to the left."

"Excuse us." Mateo nodded.

The door was open when they reached the room, and inside was Guillermo's wife, Anabel, with their daughter Elena. They sat on the bed whispering as the little girl hugged her brother's pillow with tears streaming from her eyes.

"But why did he go?" Elena cried.

"Because Esteban has a bigger purpose, and the aliens chose him to go live on their planet."

"But why him? Why my brother!"

"Because Esteban is very smart." Anabel wiped her daughter's tears. "And the aliens picked the smartest humans to teach them about Earth, so they can use that knowledge to make their world a better place."

"But why does he have to go with them? Why can't he just tell them what they want to know and stay here?"

"It's easier if he goes to their world, but Esteban will be fine. He's on a new adventure. We should be proud of him."

"But I won't see him again."

"Let's try to be happy for him, ok?" Anabel choked back a cry and forced a smile. "No matter what, Esteban will always be in our hearts."

Mateo and Lola eyed each other. What in the hell kind of twisted fairytale were these people telling their kid?

"May we look around?" Lola stepped into the room.

"Yes, we'll get out of your way," Anabel said and turned to Elena. "Mi amor, meet me in the kitchen and I'll make you a snack."

"Ok." The little girl wiped her eyes, then walked out with her head down, still clutching the pillow.

"Interesting story," Mateo said to Anabel.

"Well, how do you propose I tell a five-year-old about her brother? When that thing in the sky arrived, Elena started having nightmares. She thought we were all going to die, and maybe we will, but after I told her fairytales about the UFO, the nightmares stopped. If I have to tell my daughter an interesting story so she doesn't live her last days in fear, then so be it. Don't you dare judge me."

"My apologies," Mateo murmured as Anabel stormed out.

"Look." Lola nodded at the photos on Esteban's dresser. "He was on the same soccer team as the Zaragoza's son. Maybe that's how Mrs. Zaragoza knew Esteban?"

"Perhaps."

Mateo rifled through the drawers, searching for clues, but aside from a stash of marijuana, he came up empty. Meanwhile, Lola flashed a light under the bed and lifted the mattress.

"What have we got here?" She slid out a folded journal. "Drawings."

However, it was more than doodles.

"Is that..." Mateo squinted. "Is that a naked Mrs. Zaragoza?"

"Yes, and she's posed like that woman from the Titanic movie."

"No kidding." Mateo turned the page, where another racy drawing stared back at them. "Wow."

"It's just page after page of this woman, and each one is sexier than the last."

"I think we have our answer. So, let's say the Mayor found out, and he confronted Esteban, they had an altercation, and—"

"But that doesn't explain the motive for the last twenty-one victims or the fact he has a good alibi."

"Diablos. You're right." Mateo rubbed his beard. "What if Mrs. Zaragoza didn't go out for yoga? What if she met up with Esteban? Clearly, they had a sexual relationship, and there is a power imbalance considering her age and status."

"What if Esteban wanted to go public with their relationship, and it freaked her out?"

"Many motives for murder where affairs are involved." Mateo nodded. "But it has to be more than that if she's our serial killer."

"We should visit the yoga studio to ask if she was there."

"Also do a stakeout in the square to keep our eyes on the cathedral and the yoga studio. Killers like revisiting the crime scene. It's an ego thing. If Mrs. Zaragoza is involved, she didn't act alone, and her accomplice could be another yogi."

"Agreed. She's too petite to fight and kill a six-foot-tall athlete alone." Lola glanced at her watch. "Let's finish up here, then get something to eat."

"Can't. I just remembered my wife is bringing dinner to the office."

"Right." Lola furrowed her brows.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. She's your wife, and if these are our last days, then you should spend them with her. As I said earlier, we should end things."

"Why are you saying this?"

"Maybe I don't want to die hopelessly in love with someone that doesn't belong to me." She fanned through the journal "Like Esteban."

"Lola, I—"

"You know I'm right." She left the room, and Mateo facepalmed himself.

He never imagined becoming an unfaithful man, especially not after twenty years of marriage, but he didn't know how to sever the relationship.

In truth, he was a coward, and Lola was right. There wasn't a future for them.

***

Later that evening, Mateo and Lola sat on a bench in the square next to a taco vendor. She stuffed her face with a late dinner, while he sipped horchata and kept his focus on the two buildings. Merchants were cleaning up their shops, and the local bars were bringing their tables inside, so spotting anyone suspicious would be easier with fewer people around.

"Thought about you said."

"Hm?" Lola cocked a brow, her fingers pinching a lime to squeeze juice over another taco.

"About ending things. This guilt has been eating away at me anyway."

Lola took a bite, and said with a mouthful, "Are you going to come clean to Imelda?"

"No. If we're all going to die, why break her heart? Better to die happy."

"Fair point."

"Hey, look." Mateo elbowed her. "We've got company."

There across the piazza, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, was a skittish Mrs. Zaragoza, looking both ways before entering the studio of the yoga guru, Diego De Rosa.

Mateo glanced at his watch. "It's almost curfew, yet she's here, miles from home. So we're definitely on to something."

"And there's only one way to find out." Lola tossed her garbage into the trash and stood. "Let's go."

Shadows bathed the inside of the yoga studio when they entered, and the place appeared empty as they tiptoed from room to room. However, a hum of voices floated from somewhere in the back. They approached a set of double doors cautiously and peered through the crack. There, standing inside a glowing circle of candles, was Mrs. Zaragoza and about ten other people.

"The police came to my house and accused my husband of killing Esteban. I told you this would happen, and that we needed to pick someone else."

"And we told you not to fall in love with the boy!" a woman hissed. "You're old enough to be his mother."

"How else was I supposed to gain his trust?"

"Ladies, none of that matters," rumbled Diego De Rosa. "We don't control who is selected for the sacrifice, we just carry out the plan, and the final countdown is fast approaching."

"Screw the sacrifices!" a man barked. "You heard Mrs. Zaragoza. The police are sniffing too close."

"Are you saying you're not a believer?" Diego asked. "You know we have to make these sacrifices or else we all die!"

"Or you could be making it all up."

"How dare you?" Mrs. Zaragoza exclaimed. "Diego performs miracles, and you question him?"

"Yeah, how dare you?" another woman said. "He's trying to save mankind. You're lucky he chose you to help."

"I'm sorry," the man muttered. "I'm just stressed."

"Hush, my child..." Diego cupped the man's face. "You are still a novice to my teachings, but you have so much potential. I will give you the honor of carrying out the next sacrifice. How does that sound?"

"You will?"

"Yes." Diego presented a branding stuck. "I spent all afternoon crafting this one. Look at how beautiful the eight turned out."

"Wow," the group said in unison, their fingers grazing the iron.

"However, the universe has requested a change for our sacrifice. They don't want the cashier from the grocery store anymore. They want Imelda Moreno."

"What?" Mrs. Zaragoza gasped. "But she's the detective's wife."

From the hallway, Mateo's blood avalanched down to his toes, causing his body to sway. There was no way in hell he would let them lay a finger on his Imelda.

"We don't have a choice," Diego continued. "That was the name they whispered to me when I meditated this afternoon. She's our next sacrifice."

"I wish the universe would talk to me. I wish I had the gift," a woman said somberly.

"Shhh, Maria. Once we get through all of the sacrifices, I will take you as my apprentice to deepen your meditations."

"You will?"

"Yes, you have so much potential."

"What about me?" Mrs. Zaragoza blurted. "You said I was your best student!"

"Ladies, none of that matters now. The clock is ticking, and the time has come. We must drink our peyote wine and do what the universe has asked."

Diego walked in a circle, handing them each a dagger, and pouring the hallucinogenic wine into everyone's glass. Sweat dripped from Mateo's temples, his mind racing. He clicked the safety button on his gun, his muscles tensing to take down the delusional killers that dared threaten his wife.

"We drink," Diego said.

"We drink," the others murmured.

Together, they gulped the wine and wiped the excess from their mouths.

"What do you want to do?" Lola whispered.

"We arrest these pedazos de mierda. On my count to three..." With his heart pounding, Mateo kicked the double doors wide open. "Put your hands up. You're all under arrest!"

The crazed group whipped their attention in his direction. However, their surprised expressions morphed into something sinister when Diego pointed at Mateo. "The universe has changed its mind. He is the new sacrifice. Kill him!"

The group charged forward, daggers in hand, and Mateo fired his weapon, wounding a man in the shoulder. Lola also shot off around, yet it didn't deter the killers as they trampled over their fallen friends, and continued running.

"Coño," Lola squeaked.

"Run! They've gone mad," Mateo shouted, urging Lola toward the exit while firing over his shoulder.

"Don't let them leave the studio," Diego ordered.

A few from the group lunged, the tips of their knives almost catching Mateo's shirt as he and Lola slid into the lobby. They pushed through the door and tumbled onto the street where citizens wandering the square gathered around to see what the commotion was. Mateo skyrocketed to his feet, yanking Lola with him as the murderous group spilled from the doorway. However, the crowd didn't dissuade Diego from diving to stab Lola. She fired her weapon, but the chamber jammed, and Mateo was out of bullets.

For a moment, it seemed helpless as citizens stood around watching, none of them helping, but then a merchant rushed forward swinging a baseball bat at Diego. Then another citizen jumped in, too, throwing a brick at one of the yogis, and like a domino effect, more people came to their aid. When some of the group attempted to flee, citizens ran after them and dragged them back. Together, they held down the killers, allowing Mateo and Lola to zip-tie them while someone else ran to the station for help.

After a few minutes, police officers ran to their aid and hauled the killers away for booking, but Mateo wanted the pleasure of one last word with the yoga guru.

"You're a fraud," he said. "You're not some savior. Why did you kill all of these innocent people?"

Diego raised his chin, still pompous and proud. "Because we're all going to die anyway when the countdown ends."

"So you thought you could play God?" Mateo tightened the zip-tie, squeezing Diego's wrists, making him yelp. "Countdown or not, you don't get to do that in my city. So I have a punishment for you."

Snatching the branding stick from the ground, he flicked a lighter to heat the iron, and when it glowed red, he pressed the number eight into Diego's forehead.

"Make sure they all get one," Mateo ordered the officers. "I need to get home to Imelda."

After twenty-two days of victims turning up dead with a countdown of numbers burned into their foreheads, Detective Moreno could finally exhale a sigh of relief, knowing that tomorrow, no one was going to show up dead with the number eight. 

<<<<< END >>>>>

Find more stories by Van_Carley on Wattpad.

Van Carley is a cofounder of WritersConnx, and part of Wattpad writer programs, such as Creators, Paid, and formerly Stars. When writing, she enjoys the freedom of bouncing between genres or mashing them together. She's best known for writing morally grey characters in chaotic settings and loves anti-heroes. When Van isn't reading, writing, or hanging out with writer-friends on Discord, she is binging Netflix with the fam or floating on the lake.