Kirby arrived at the police station fifteen minutes before nine. She was surprised when she realized that there were only two police officers in the police station.

"Did everyone fall asleep today? Why is there no one? " Kirby asked somewhat dismayed.

A young and inexperienced corporal approached the agent to greet her and tell her what was happening.

"Agent Reed, what happens is that my colleagues went to answer a call for help from a woman, supposedly she has found the body of her partner stabbed in the head.

Kirby was paralyzed on the spot. She feared the worst.

"And why didn't they tell me?"

"It was something very unexpected, agent Reede. The sheriff mentioned that they would be back soon.

Kirby came back the way she came while pulling out the motorcycle keys. However, when she was about to turn it on, she saw in the distance the patrols followed by the forensic medicine truck and criminalistics cars.

The motorcycle of one of her colleagues, agent López, stopped where she was and told her what had happened.

"Another stabbing murder, Agent Reede.

Kirby put on her helmet and started the motorcycle all at once.

"I need to know more information. Let's go back to the scene.

Both turned around their vehicles and went to the crime scene. There, the police officers removed their essential gloves and suits so as not to contaminate the evidence. They sighed with rage when they saw the FBI agents arrive. That meant they couldn't leave early this time.

"Information?" Kirby ordered, putting on her suit and piercing the police tape with her partner.

"Caucasian male, 33 years old. Killed by stabbing in the head. Possible crime of passion or revenge. Not yet established. No record," the gendarme reviewed the report written by one of his colleagues. "He was a psychiatrist".

Kirby watched the blood stains on the walls. "If he had his skull pierced with a knife, the murderer had great strength. Any important clues?"

"The murderer? There is no trace or indication. Pretty smart" said the police corporal.

Officer López bent down to pick up something that had fallen on the ground: a briefcase stained with a little of the deceased's blood. He opened it and turned the pages one by one.

"Agent Reede... "

"Yes?" Kirby turned around, scratching her chin.

"Come and see this..." He had already finished turning the pages of the portfolio. He decided to return to first base so that his teammate can see.

Kirby walked over to Luis López and looked at the briefcase in his hands. They were the files of the psychiatrist's patients. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

"He was lying down, and it didn't look like he had just fallen. Besides..." Agent López advanced to the page that had most caught his attention. "Look at this..."

It was the psychiatrist's record on Sam Carpenter's mental state.

Kirby snatched the folder from Luis and continued to read the doctor's writing, somewhat surprised. The words "severe psychopathy" and "paranoid schizophrenia" were the ones that caught her attention the most.

The blonde gritted her teeth when putting together her possible hypothesis. Was it Sam who was behind this in a fit of madness and paranoia?

"Loomis's blood seems to be taking its toll on that girl," Agent Lopez commented, scratching his head trying to understand the case.

Kirby didn't answer. Each time this case was becoming more and more stormy.

The officer who received them approached again. He had to inform his superiors.

"The doctor's partner demands to see you. She is somewhat upset by the situation. However, she wants to clarify the murder of her partner".

Kirby, with the briefcase under her arm, decided to go talk to the woman, who was waiting on the sidewalk along with two officers. She had been given a bottle of water. She was a young woman, perhaps no more than twenty-five, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was a very nice Caucasian.

As the agent approached, she noticed that the girl was trembling and breathing irregularly. She seemed seriously affected by the macabre discovery. Her makeup was smudged, and she smoking a cigarette to calm her down.

Kirby and Luis approached, greeted and mourned her loss. The woman thanked them, but almost didn't look up. She was lost in an infinite point near her feet. She mentioned that her name was Amanda Plummer and that she had only been in a relationship with the doctor for a few months.

Kirby had seen similar cases of young women murdering older men to steal money or jewelry. She thought this case was one of those. However, the detail that Luis López told her before arriving at the scene of the crime caused noise in her thoughts.

"According to a store's security cameras, the killer was dressed as Ghostface, the hooded killer from the Stab movies.

Kirby ordered Lopez to write down everything he heard. She began the interrogation.

"Tell me, Miss Plummer. Did Dr. Kobach have any enemies or anyone who wanted to harm him?

She finally looked at her and stood up. She was much taller and stockier than Kirby, but the blonde didn't flinch.

"My partner had no enemies that I know of. He was pretty good at his job. However, I must say that when working with the mentally ill, anything could happen".

"Did the doctor tell you about the cases he saw?

"Yes. We always discussed them. I am also a psychiatrist. Although he was the one with the experience. I'm just getting started".

"I see. Where were you last night? "

"I was waiting for him to contact me. We were going to go to dinner. I called him several times and he sent me to the mailbox. I didn't think something could have happened to him," the woman gradually broke down. "I then assumed that he had fallen asleep and that in the morning he would call me again".

"But it wasn't like that...

"E-exactly. That's why I came to look for him to his office and I found this bloodbath...

The woman broke down in tears. One of the officers offered his shoulder to comfort her.

Kirby also offered her comfort to the woman and promised to solve her partner's case. In the same way, she asked her to be aware of some useful information for the police to solve the case. Somehow, Kirby sensed that this was not an isolated case.

She moved away from the victim and the police, only being followed by her partner López who wrote down some last details.

"Do you think she has anything to do with it?"

"At first I thought she did. Now I don't think so, López. She is quite affected. Also, I feel that this case is connected to the disappearance of Tara Carpenter".

"Sure, the killer was wearing Ghostface's robe, and the deceased is Sam Carpenter's doctor," he stepped up to his partner's level and adjusted his sweater. The morning was quite cold. "Do you think there's anyone trying to blame Sam Carpenter for this? "

"Yes," Kirby said. She opened the folder right on Sam's card. "However, I don't rule out the possibility that it's all part of Sam Carpenter's twisted and sociopathic mind as well".

Agent López was frightened by that possibility.

"What do we do now?"

"We need clues and information. We cannot jump to conclusions" they both went to their motorcycles. "We will wait for the results of the autopsy, analysis of cell phones of the victim and Miss Plummer among other details found. Also, I want to see that security tape".

Putting on their helmets, they both nodded and went back to the police station. They needed to make a more exhaustive analysis of their possible murderers, clues, and motives for this new case in which Ghostface once again was the protagonist.

...

The atmosphere felt damp and cold. Her mouth was dry and the sweat, the result of the fear that invaded her, had left her skin sticky. Her hair was a mass of dirt and blood at the ends, due to the cuts on her chest that drew small crosses under her collarbones. There were three of them, placed from left to right, stopping at the height of her chin.

She couldn't see anything at all because of the blindfold that covered her eyes, and she couldn't let out a scream for the other in her mouth. There were only small moans and thick sighs.

Her head was down, as if she were trying to fall asleep in the sitting position she was in. Straps on her wrists, ankles and waist completely immobilized her.

The incessant ticking of a wall clock could be heard like an incessant hammering in her ear in the midst of a deathly silence. However, the creaking of the door caused her to come to her senses and squirm in the chair. She groaned slightly when she felt the presence approach dangerously close to her, with the stealth of a feline. Her body tensed as she heard a knife being drawn, which delicately passed through the skin of her cheek.

Did you miss me, Taaaaaaaraaaaaa?

Ghostface's artificial voice made her sob in horror and the sharp blade on her skin stopped her movements. She held back the urge to burst into tears and dug her nails into the wood of the armrests of the chair.

I longed to see you again today. Another day together. Another day to see you suffer.

Then, with the help of his knife, Ghostface cut the fabric of the blindfold that covered the girl's eyes, only to find Ghostface's terrifying elongated mask sketching the blade of his hunting knife into her face. With his other hand, he caught one of the tears of despair that rolled down the girl's cheeks. She tried to pronounce incomprehensible words.

In front of her, a brass bucket, a long tube, and a plastic funnel rested on a metal tray. Ghostface noticed how Tara had noticed the things and gave a terrifying chuckle. He stabbed the knife hard into the back of the chair, causing her to startle.

You still have to stay here. You may be wondering, what are those things for? Well. After the little joke you made yesterday, I must take some precautions.

Tara stifled a groan and squirmed in her chair. She knew he was referring to her attempt to scream when Ghostface had brought her food.

After that, the masked man took the tube, and the bucket and Tara began to despair.

I'm not going to let you starve. You will die in a more special way.

He then took the end of the tube and held the girl's head back, who was emitting muffled cries of supplication. Ghostface began to insert the joint through the young woman's nose who did not stop sobbing because of the pain caused by that tube that crossed from her nose to the pit of her stomach. Moving caused her more pain, so she succumbed to Ghostface's mercy. In an attempt to rescue what little air she could breathe, she opened her mouth as wide as she could, dropping saliva from her chin.

Ghostface took the bucket after the tube was secured and slowly poured out the hot milk inside. Tara felt the heat force into her body and writhed in anguish, causing pain from the tube in her nose. Again, she sobbed tirelessly as Ghostface finished force-feeding her.

It was a few long minutes of anguish and agony. Having finished with the contents of the bucket, Ghostface squeezed the tube out of Tara's nose, causing her to bleed. She felt that cupper taste in her mouth.

Ghostface unhooked the blade from the wood and ran it over Tara's face again. He passed it very close to her left cheek, causing a cut. The blood from that wound was added to the blood that ran down her nose.

It's just you and me against everyone, Taaaaraaaaa.

Then he began to carve with the tip of his knife the following cross into Tara's skin. She squealed in pain, the sound diminished by the rag in her mouth. Ghostface took care that it would be a long, painful and agonizing torture for her. Because he wanted to hear the fruit of his deed, he untied the bandage from his mouth. Tara finally could scream, her airways now clear, so loud that it rumbled against the walls.

Taaaaraaaaaaa

...

Sam woke up sweating and with her heart in her hand. She looked around for Ghostface and Tara, but found only the hospital dark room. The dream had been so vivid that her ears still tingled with the heart-rending screams her sister uttered. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Desperate, she went in search of water. She dodged Chad, who was asleep on the floor in a pile of quilts he had borrowed. Mindy tossed and turned in her bed when she felt the movement, but she didn't wake up.

Sam needed to smoke a cigarette. She took the pack, matches and her cell phone that were on the windowsill and left the room towards the terraces.

There, in the cold of the early morning, she released the tension she felt when she sat on a bench. Her hands trembled with nerves as she lit the match and the cigarette. The wind did her no favor either.

When she turned it on, her body and mind relaxed. She took a deep breath and released the tension along with the smoke intermingled with her breath.

A headache killed her. She rested her arm on her knee and her forehead on her hand. With the other she held the phone and her cigarette. She typed her psychiatrist's number on her cell phone and left him a message as when these episodes usually happened.

"I just lived another nightmare. This one was too real."

She put her cell phone aside and started smoking again. The memory of her nightmare did not leave her. And they wouldn't give it up for quite some time.