Chapter 1

Detective Victoria Blackwood

The rain fell in relentless sheets, a deafening harmony of water against glass that echoed throughout the house. I huddled in the darkness of my childhood home, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I watched the events unfolding before me with mounting horror.

"You shouldn't have threatened The Prophecy, Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood," the man's voice cut through the silence like a knife, his words dripping with malice and threat.

My parents stood before the intruder; their faces etched with boldness despite the fear that flickered in their eyes. They were outmatched, but they refused to surrender to the darkness that threatened to consume them.

I am not supposed to be here. I should leave. Let the grown-ups talk. But that was the thing, I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. There was something about the man dressed in a dark robe that set me on red alert.

"Do whatever you want, Damien, but we're not giving you the information," my father's voice rang out, his tone steady and unwavering. "We're not going to help The Prophecy kill any more innocent people."

The man, Damien, chuckled darkly, a dark smile spreading across his lips as if relishing the challenge my parents presented. With a swift motion, he produced a weapon from beneath his coat, its surface adorned with a strange symbol that sent goosebumps across my skin in its wake.

In an instant, the air was charged with tension, the weight of upcoming violence hanging heavy in the air. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched the scene unfold before me, my mind racing with a thousand unanswered questions. Time seemed to crawl as my parents fell, their bodies hitting the floor with a sickening thud. Blood pooled around them, creepily making its way towards me. In her final moments, tears streaked from mumma's eyes. She turned her head and, with a last fragile breath, gave me a heartbreaking smile.

Then, with a suddenness that stole the breath from my lungs, Damien turned towards me, his gaze locking with mine in a chilling moment of recognition. I felt a cold chill run down my spine as I met his empty eyes—dark voids that seemed to swallow the light around them, each one bearing the same symbol that adorned his weapon.

And then, without warning, everything went dark. A blinding flash of light exploded behind my eyes, leaving my senses reeling and my mind spinning with confusion. When I finally regained my bearings, I found myself lying on the cold, hard ground, my head throbbing with pain and my vision swimming with disorientation. My parent's bodies were gone, turned to dust no matter how much I searched for them. The only thing that was left was my mumma's pendant.

The memory of that night would haunt me for years to come, a specter of darkness that refused to be banished from my thoughts. But as I lay in the darkness, surrounded by the echoes of my past, I knew that I could never truly escape the darkness that lingered within my soul."

I woke up in cold sweat. My breathing heavy. The memory playing on a loop in my head just like it had been doing for the last 20 years.

As the remains of the nightmare faded, I lay in bed, my heart still racing and my mind reeling from the vivid memories that had once again captured my sleep.

As my heart slowly started to slow down and my breaths came out more normal, the smell of antiseptic reached my nose.

I open my eyes to find myself lying in a hospital bed, suddenly aware of the sterile surroundings of the hospital room- the beeping of the monitors, the smell of life and death in the air, the soft hum of the voices in the hallway outside and a dark presence beside me.

I turn around to find Xander, watching me, his expression grave as he watched me with concern in his eyes. He is my partner in crime and closest I have ever had to a family.

"Victoria, thank god you are awake," Xander says, his voice filled with relief as he reaches out to grasp my hand. "You had all of us worried there for a moment."

Xander has been my henchman for as long as I can remember.

As Xander's words wash over me, a sense of relief floods through my veins, washing away the remaining fear and uncertainty left in the wake of my nightmare. I offer him a weak smile, grateful for his presence and the reassurance it brings.

Turning my attention to Xander, I take a moment to study him, noting the concern etched into the lines of his face and the tiredness lurking behind his eyes. He's always been there for me, a constant source of support and companionship in a world masked with lies.

Xander's features are weathered and worn, bearing the scars of a life spent battling the demons that haunt the streets of Shadowfell City.

Xander Cruz cuts an imposing figure, his tall frame towering over most people whenever he enters the room. He possesses a rugged, chiselled appearance, with strong, angular features that speak of determination and sturdiness. His dark, almond-shaped eyes are sharp and observant, capable of piercing through the layers of deception to uncover the truth beneath.

A closely cropped beard frames his square jawline, adding to his rugged charm, while a hint of stubble dusts his cheeks, giving him an air of effortless masculinity. His hair, a rich shade of espresso brown, that are always neatly styled, was now a tousled mess as if he had been running his hand through them constantly.

As Xander squeezes my hand gently, a silent reminder of his unwavering support, I feel a surge of gratitude wash over me. He may be my partner in crime, but he's also a beacon of light in a world consumed by lies and shadows.

I try to speak, but my throat feels dry and scratchy, my words coming out as little more than a hoarse whisper.

Xander offers me a sip of water from a nearby glass, and I gratefully accept, feeling the cool liquid soothe my parched throat.

As I begin to piece together the events that led me to this moment, my mind races with questions and uncertainties. How did I end up in the hospital? What happened after the flashback? And most importantly, where is the killer now?

"What happened last night, Xander? Did we catch him?" I spoke up, my curiosity piqued, unable to contain the need for answers.

He sighed. "You can't leave it alone for a moment now, can you?" He lets out a soft chuckle.

"You know me." I smile at him.

"We lost him, Vic. I'm sorry," Xander's voice was heavy with regret as he spoke. "When we emerged from the woods, I saw the two of you locked in combat. By the time I reached you, he had already struck you on the head and fled. You lost consciousness shortly afterward." His words hung in the air, weighed down by the gravity of the situation.

I put my hand on his. "Don't worry Xander. We will catch him like we always do."

After comforting Xander with a reassuring squeeze of his hand, I shifted my focus to the task at hand. Despite the setback, I couldn't afford to dwell on our failure. There were still leads to follow, clues to uncover, and justice to be served.

Rising from the hospital bed, I ignored the dull ache in my head and the lingering sense of unease that gnawed at my gut. With dedication in my heart and Xander by my side, I knew that we would stop at nothing to bring the killer to justice.

"Let's get back to work," I said, my voice firm and purposeful. "We'll review the evidence, retrace our steps, and track down every lead until we find him."

Xander nodded in agreement; his expression steely with determination. Together, we would navigate the shadows of Shadowfell City, confronting the darkness head-on in our never-ending pursuit of the truth.

As we made our way towards the exit, the sterile halls of the hospital seemed to close in around us, suffocating in our silence. Just as we reached the doorway, a sudden collision sent me stumbling backward, my heart racing as I struggled to regain my balance.

"Sorry," the nurse muttered, her voice barely audible above the din of the bustling hospital. But as she caught sight of me, her eyes widened in recognition, and a look of nervousness flickered across her features.

"Wait, are you Detective Victoria Blackwood?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

I nodded, my senses on high alert as a sense of uneasiness washed over me. Something wasn't right.

Before I could respond, the nurse reached into the pocket of her scrubs and produced a crimson envelope, its edges adorned with intricate gold lettering.

"This came for you," she said, her voice trembling slightly as she extended the envelope towards me.

With trembling hands, I accepted the envelope, my pulse quickening with each passing second. I knew instinctively that whatever was contained within its confines would only serve to deepen the mystery that surrounded us.

As I tore open the envelope, my heart sank as I read the chilling message inscribed within:

"You are on my radar now, detective."

A shiver ran down my spine as the gravity of the threat hit me like a ton of bricks. The killer was taunting me, daring me to come after him, to challenge him in his twisted game of cat and mouse.

But I refused to be scared.

The chase was on, and this time, there would be no escape for the one who dared to challenge the resolve of Detective Victoria Blackwood.

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