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THE PAIR dashed toward the nearby street, their eyes locking onto the police cars halted alongside an ambulance, lights flashing in the dusk.

A thick crowd had already gathered, eyes wide with shock as they stared up at a twisted form sprawled beneath the towering flat block. "Step back, please!" a police officer called, sweeping his arm to push the onlookers away.

The two pushed through the throng gathered before the crime scene tape could even be strung up. Their breath hitched as they caught sight of the man sprawled on the pavement, blood pooling beneath his head and chest, the crimson stark against the concrete.

Zane's voice broke through a murmur of the crowd. "What the heck!" he gasped, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Raine!" DI Ferrer called, spotting her the moment she appeared on the scene.

"A man?" she murmured under her breath, her gaze narrowing. "And the pattern... what on earth-"

At a distance, DS Garcia was questioning the apartment owner, her sleek black hair swept back in a single ponytail. "You saw him acting suspiciously on the security cameras, and that's why you followed him?" she asked, eyes scanning the man's expression for the slightest flicker of truth.

"I did, and when I reached his apartment, I saw a shadow standing on his balcony—then it pushed him over the railings. He plummeted straight down from the fourth floor," the man stammered, a warm orange blanket draped over his shoulders to ease his shock.

"Did you actually see that shadow?" DS Cruz pressed.

"I didn't. It was... the room was too dark," the owner replied. "When I turned on the lights, the shadow had vanished. I searched every corner of his flat, but there wasn't a trace of that dark presence. That's when I realized—it was something supernatural."

"What happened next?" she asked, scribbling quickly in her notebook.

"I called the police and hurried down to see him myself... only to be horrified by all the blood," the man replied, his voice trembling.

"What time is it?" Raine asked, turning to Zane. He pulled out his phone, glancing at the lock screen.

"Just past seven," he answered.

"Come on through," DI Ferrer said, lifting the police tape to allow her entry. "We need your help again. Who knows-might be a promotion in it for you soon."

"I'm not in this for promotions," she replied coolly, ducking under the tape. "How about the nurse?" she added, nodding toward Zane without meeting his gaze.

"Him again? It's illegal," Ferrer muttered in a low voice. "Besides, there's a crowd here, likely broadcasting live on their socials."

"At least give me copies of the photos this time. He could be onto something," she replied, striding toward the body sprawled on the ground.

Raine approached the CSI van, where the team was busy assembling their gear. "Another one already, I see," remarked Mr. Mendez, who was fully suited up.

"Your shift doesn't start again until Monday, didn't Ma'am Aguilar let you know?" asked Ms. Allie Madrazo, a CSI I, as she tugged her suit's hood over her short, dark brown hair.

"I know, Ms. Allie," Raine replied with a slight smile, "but since I live nearby, thought I'd offer a hand."

"Here you go," said Mr. Christopher Fajardo, a CSI III, handing Raine one pair of gloves and feet coverings. A bright grin played on his face. "I remember being just as eager when I first started in this line of work."

Once preparations were complete and the paramedics confirmed there were no signs of life, Raine crouched beside the body, her small multipurpose toolkit open as she retrieved a mini flashlight. She clicked it on and its beam swept over the blood-streaked pavement.

Nearby, Christopher was placing numbered markers to highlight potential evidence, while Allie entered the flat, her eyes scanning each corner while taking photographs. Meanwhile, the detectives were questioning possible witnesses while officers kept a watchful eye, ensuring the area was secure in case the killer lingered in the crowd.

After tracing the victim's position, Raine caught a glimpse of blood coming from his chest. Moving closer, she carefully lifted the man slightly, her heart racing as the sight confirmed her fears: the cavity in his chest was empty-his heart missing. This grim discovery solidified the truth; he was yet another victim of the elusive murderer.

She observed the skin of the man, noting the contrast between the areas shielded from sunlight and those exposed, visible through the armholes of his grey t-shirt.

"Tanned," she murmured.

The same pattern was evident on his scalp.

"Exposed to sunlight," she added quietly.

As she grasped his still-soft hands, now stained with blood, she noted the calluses on his palms, telling a story of long hours gripping handlebars.

"Calloused," Raine whispered to herself.

In addition to the sweet, metallic scent of freshly spilled blood, a faint whiff of gasoline and smoke lingered in the air near the victim.

"Probably a tricycle driver," she speculated, adding this detail to her growing list of thoughts.

As she examined the scene, flashes from cameras echoed around her, capturing not just evidence but also the faces of those eager to boost their social media followings. The chaotic scene overwhelmed her, leaving her thoughts muddled, as if they were jammed by the absence of concrete details-her original deductions slipping away.

After the on-scene investigation, the body was transported to the morgue, where forensic pathologists and medical examiners would begin their examination. As the team made their way to their main office in the city's heart, Raine joined Allie and the others for the ride, leaving Zane behind.

"Where are you going again?" Zane had asked, his brow furrowing with concern before she left the scene.

"This is my job," Raine replied firmly. "I'll be home later. Just keep an eye on your loved ones in the flats. Remember, that monster is still out there, becoming more unpredictable by the day."

"How about you?" Zane asked, his tone serious.

Raine appeared not to hear him as she continued, "His pattern has become infuriating. I think he knows we're onto him, or if-"

"I'm asking kindly, what about you? I told Auntie I'd be watching out for you," he intervened, his voice rising above the noise.

"I need to get to the bottom of this," she replied, her gaze steady. "Just stay put, and I'll head home as soon as this mission is finished."

Raine accompanied her colleagues to the morgue of St. Luke Hospital, where they awaited the medical examiners' findings on the body. Meanwhile, the victim's loved ones rushed to the hospital, their grief observable as they mourned the loss of someone dear. As time stretched on, the moment of truth finally arrived.

"The man was identified as Alexander Martinez, a forty-three-year-old tricycle driver," Allie Madrazo reported. "He has a wife and a six-year-old daughter, but they went to stay at the mother's house after a misunderstanding."

"Is the wife here?" Raine asked, her gaze shifting to the three figures standing by the window where the body lay. Two women and a man stared into the room, their faces stricken with grief. One woman had straight black hair and wore a yellow t-shirt paired with jeans, while the other was dressed in a green polo shirt and a fitted black skirt. The man, however, was clad in simple attire, much like the deceased.

The team entered a private office within St. Luke the Evangelist, a hospital owned by Detective Inspector George Ferrer's family and one of the rising healthcare facilities in the Philippines. Accompanying them was Dr. Samantha Ferrer, one of the leaders who performed the autopsy. She was George's younger sister and also Raine's cousin.

"She is," Allie confirmed.

"But who among them?" Christopher asked, glancing at the grieving figures outside.

Raine raised her hand, signalling her colleagues to pause, her gaze fixed on the two women. "The one with straight black hair," she replied.

"Again with this?" DS Cruz remarked, his irritation barely concealed.

"How did you know?" Allie pressed.

"Her clothes were hastily put on--jeans thrown on in a rush, with shorts underneath. The shoes slipped on quickly, barely laced," she explained. "The other woman also seems rushed, likely living nearby Mr. Martinez. We need to be cautious; rivalry could emerge soon."

"The interviews confirm that there are indeed rumours of him having an affair, which is why his wife often leaves him alone," DI Ferrer continued.

"Aren't they supposed to be interrogated by the police right now?" Raine interjected. "Where are your other team members?"

"Well, Ms. De Verra, they were given a few moments to mourn. We'll certainly resume the interrogations once those moments have passed," DS Cruz replied, trying to temper her frustration.

"Anyway, let's have the report, shall we?" DI Ferrer said, clearing his throat as he focused the group back on their work.

"Firstly, the cortisol levels in the victim's bloodstream were markedly elevated, indicative of acute hypercortisolemia. This suggests a heightened physiological stress response, likely triggered by extreme fear, pain, or psychological distress in the moments leading up to the fatal incident," Dr. Ferrer explained, her lab coat rustling as she wrote her findings on a whiteboard. The others remained seated, listening intently as she spoke.

"The sclera, commonly referred to as the whites of the eyes, exhibited petechial haemorrhages-minute capillary ruptures often indicative of asphyxia due to strangulation or the application of significant pressure," she continued. "However, in this case, we can rule those possibilities out."

"What do you mean, Doctor?" Christopher asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

"The eyes displayed a glazed, fixed appearance, characteristic of post-mortem changes or hypoxia-induced cerebral dysfunction," she replied.

"So it must have been a sudden, excruciating trauma to the victim's body or a state of shock," Raine interjected.

"Exactly," Dr. Ferrer said, directing her black marker toward Raine. "Then there's the issue of the estimated time of death, which raised some red flags. The body exhibited a rapid cooling rate, significantly faster than anticipated. As you're aware, under typical conditions, a body at normal temperature only drops approximately 1°C per hour post-mortem. This suggests a timeframe inconsistent with natural or accidental causes, potentially indicating foul play."

"How about the wounds I noticed?" DI Ferrer asked, raising his right hand. "He's got scratch marks across his torso, and they're deep."

"They're irregular in depth and inconsistent with a blade or any weapon made by a human," Raine replied.

"It looks more claw-like--like he was attacked by an animal," Dr. Ferrer added.

"But there were no signs of any animal presence at the scene... not even a person," DS Cruz interjected. "No one reported anything suspicious, but it could still be an animal."

"What? And that animal ate his heart?" Raine asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"And then there's the matter of the heart, as my dear cousin pointed out. It's missing-just like the other victims you've sent here. Like the others, it wasn't simply cut or torn; it was excised with an unsettling precision, as though the perpetrator was performing a meticulous procedure. That level of surgical expertise is enough to send a chill down anyone's spine," Dr. Ferrer continued. "It's as if the killer performed surgery without a scalpel but still mastered it."

"Could be a doctor or a surgeon. We need to note that," DI Ferrer said, jotting down notes with his brown eyes fixed on the pages of his notebook. "Then there's the manner of death: blunt force trauma from the fall. The evidence suggests he was dropped from the terrace without any signs of struggle, which could mean he was either unconscious at the time or already dead, given the blood trail near that area."

"Applying luminol, there was indeed one footprint leading to the edge of the terrace--it could belong to the killer," Raine suggested. "Another question: were drugs found on his body, like the others?"

The team fell silent for a moment, seemingly grappling with the implications. "Yes, he was drugged, too," Dr. Ferrer confirmed.

"Summing up, we could be dealing with one of those psychopathic killers who has come to our city to disrupt our peace," DS Cruz said. "The drugs from the vaccinations are man-made, so that's certainly a crucial detail."

"One thing is certain," DI Ferrer said, his expression grave. "We are facing forces we never anticipated."