We drive into downtown Syracuse, heading for the police station. We are feeling confident that we can nail this guy once and for all. Before, when we had nothing, we were super hesitant and -- dare I say -- even scared to report anything. But now, we know a lot more and we have a strong case for our killer hacking duo that's been terrorizing us.

We zoom past the yard that surrounds the large six-story building. The structure reminds me of the J. Edgar Hoover Building for the FBI Headquarters in Downtown Washington D.C. There is also the old black sign stuck in the grass at the edge of the property by the road that reads:

'City of Syracuse Department of Police

- Home of Syracuse's Finest -

Syracuse Regional Police Academy.'

I figure it'll be easier to try the main headquarters of the Syracuse Police force, rather than the Onondaga County division.

We round the corner of the property to find the parking lot full of police cars, but a small section marked off for visitors.

As always, Spencer parks the car in an open spot up front for visitors. I pocket my phone as I jump out of the car, alive with energy. This must be the same feeling that the police get when they're just about to arrest the criminal at large.

I walk with my head up high and oozing confidence.

This is it! The horror will soon be over!

I push open the front door with the familiar Syracuse police logo on the glass: a faint navy blue pentagon shape outlined in a bright yellow -- kinda like the Buffalo Sabres' team colors. At the top in white lettering is 'Syracuse Police' and at the bottom is 'New York' in the same font and letter color. In the center of the logo's shape is a circle consisting of an old time-y looking version of Syracuse with factories, a boat, river and half of the sun shining inside of a circle. In the space between the circle's image and the second yellow outlined circle are the words: 'Central City' and 'City of Syracuse 1848', curved to fit the circle and so one could read the words.

I can feel my friends are directly behind me as I think to myself, All we have to do is tell them what's been going on with us the past few weeks and tell them that we have two leads and some proof. They'll have to hear us out and help us!

A young brunette female officer glances up at our entrance. She is sitting behind a desk closest to the doors. She has her hair pulled back into a ponytail and wears a pair of sharp black rimmed glasses. She is also wearing the signature police uniform of the Syracuse Academy: a dark blue jacket and pants outfit with bronze buttons on the chest pockets, shoulders and cuffs and a silver zipper as well as a bunch of police-medals. "Can I help you boys?"

I slap my hands down on the desk and stare down at her. "We have some information on the Hannibal Hacker case!"

She pulls her glasses down the bridge of her nose, looking oddly at me. "Look, kid, if this is a test of bravery for your little frat boy friends--"

"Oh, no, ma'am, it's not!" Spencer exclaims. "I'm Spencer Finnigan, the captain of the Syracuse Storm..."

The woman looks at him, not reacting.

"...it's a hockey team. And these are my friends, Radim Raddysh, Jonni Kokkonen, Tyler Katalin and Fabien LeBeau-Boulet."

She continues to stare at him, unmoving and reacting.

"Oh, nevermind. That's besides the point," Spencer continues, ignoring her sports ignorance. "I know you guys had a case running for a serial killer named Hannibal Hacker."

"That case has run cold and is the least of our priorities right now, sir," the lady states.

"Well, you may want to re-open it, ma'am." Spencer motions to me.

"Ma'am, we've been getting terrorized by him -- or at least some wannabe Hannibal -- either way, you should listen to us."

I pause and show her my phone with the texts and then Jonni does the same thing. The text messages are one thing that cannot be digitally deleted forever. Or at least, they're not something that our dear hacking duo took into consideration to wipe away traces of.

She gasps and jerks back, snatching up her phone. "Chief, you need to get out here at once! We got a few kids with some interesting...stuff... I think you'll be very pleased by what they have."

She then hangs the phone up and looks at me, "The Chief will be right out in a second."

Literally a second.

A heavy-set man in the same uniform lumbers into the lobby, where we are. I can see through the glass behind him our a series of desks and chairs with various other officers on hand working hard to solve crimes.

"Gentleman, what is so urgent?" the man asks, no hostility to his tone like you might normally receive. Just a gruff curiosity.

Spencer faces him, looking at his name plate and says, "Sir, Officer Morgan, I know that the Hannibal Hacker case is closed at the moment, but you may want to consider re-opening it with fresh information?"

"Go on," Officer Morgan remarks.

We show him our phone messages as well as tell him all about what has been happening to us, from me accepting the challenge to decipher Cicada 3301 to summoning a Demon via the Ouija Board to all the Dark Web websites.

At the end, we show him the laptop, which we brought with us as well to show him that we aren't fibbing at all. The Dark Web is still up, showing a site named 'C'thulu' this time. The chief strokes his chin and nods.

The chief of the Syracuse Police looks at us, studying us, before he proceeds with, "Is there anything else? Do you potentially know who is attacking you five boys via the Dark Web?"

"Hannibal Hacker and his assistant Encrypto. We believe that Hannibal is actually a man named Dorian Maximilliaj," Spencer continues to say.

"He's my cousin..." I sigh heavily. "He went to an insane asylum to get fixed but I'm guessing he never got fixed. He suffers from severe schizophrenia."

"I see..." Officer Morgan mutters, tapping a pen tip to his lip in thought.

I add on, "And we think Encrypto, the partner is a crazy lady named Lynette Spiegel, who once tried to date me by stalking me like an obsessed maniac. Scared the crap out of me, but I know she's the one who kidnapped me."

"And how sure are you about this?" Officer Morgan inquires.

"I found these in his room, when I went up for a family reunion a few days ago," I say, withdrawing the pictures, including the one with Jonni and Piper. I pass them to the man. "Also, he has a creepy taunting voicemail. I tried to call him and he didn't answer, plus I'm sure if you were to look into his cell phone records, you'd find that I'm sure there's more than enough proof to connect him to the crimes."

"I have just one more question for you boys. Why would you wait until now to bring all of this to us?" Officer Morgan's brow furrows with a frustrated curiosity.

"We just weren't sure until recent, and the threats were real, and you know, we were scared and just didn't know much..."

"True. I'll give you five that. Well, this is all very welcoming information. I'll have one of my officers here look further into this new update. For now," he says as he passes me back my laptop, which I slide back into my bag, "there is nothing else that I can really do for you now. I suggest hanging low and being cautious, but do not worry, if we can somehow fill in pieces now utilizing all of this new information, we will be taking action and the threats against you boys will be extinguished."

"Thank you so much," I exclaim, shaking his head.

"No, thank you. I believe it will not take more than 24-48 hours for any action to be made, boys. Safe travels back home and thank you again." With that, Officer Morgan dips his head in a respectful farewell gesture to us. He then turns and walks back into the precinct through the double glass door entryway, leaving us alone in the lobby.

"Alright, so the cops know! If they're smart they'll lay low now and try to elude alerting law enforcement. We should be safe." Spencer exclaims as we exit the Syracuse Police Academy building and head back toward the car. "Just need to make it until..." He trails off as Jonni's phone goes off.

We all stop in place as Jonni whips his phone out of his pocket and answers the incoming phone call without hesitation of much thought. He accidentally pushes the speaker button and an earsplitting scream cuts through the receiver.

My blood runs ice cold.

Then...there is a breathless, panicked voice that follows saying, "Radim, please, help me...I'm in the back of someone's car. I don't know who or what. I just know that I'm tied up in the trunk."

There is the sound of screeching tires and a thud.

"Radim...? RADIM!!" the man's voice screams, before the call ends.

Jonni gulps and shows us who had just called. I don't really need to see the name, as I recognized the voice anyway.

It's Lukas. Lukas Kučera.