THE SAFEHOUSE ISN'T SAFE...
Lucian pulled the car into a secluded driveway, the tires crunching lightly on the gravel. The dense trees surrounding the area gave the place an eerie sense of isolation, their twisted branches scraping the sides of the vehicle like long, gnarled fingers. The safehouse stood before them, two stories of dark, quiet stone. No lights. No sounds. No sign of life.
It was supposed to be their sanctuary, a place where they could rest, regroup, and plan their next move in peace.
But the moment Ceil stepped out of the car, something in the air shifted. The feeling of unease was like a weight on his chest, pressing against his ribs. He could sense it—a quiet, suffocating stillness that had no place in a safehouse.
Velena unbuckled her seatbelt, her fingers curling into tight fists. She felt it too. The tension was thick, almost palpable. It made the hairs on the back of her neck rise, a creeping sensation that told her they were no longer alone.
Lucian exhaled sharply, his tone hard and commanding as usual. "Alright, we go in, secure the place, and—"
Ceil raised a hand, halting him mid-sentence. The others froze, their eyes locking onto him.
He didn't need to say anything more. They all saw it.
The front door was slightly ajar
A sliver of darkness stretched from the doorway like a silent warning.
Velena's stomach twisted into a knot, the hairs on her arms standing on end. Someone had been here before them. The thought sent a chill down her spine.
SILENT FOOTSTEPS. UNSEEN EYES....
Lucian tightened his grip on his weapon, his eyes narrowing. "No way we left this door unlocked." His voice was laced with suspicion.
Ceil's expression remained unreadable, but his body had already shifted, becoming more guarded, more alert. There was no hesitation in his movements; his instincts kicked in immediately, recognizing the danger they were walking into.
Velena's pulse hammered in her ears, each beat louder than the last. Her body screamed at her to run, to escape the feeling of being hunted. But she couldn't. Not yet. She wasn't sure what exactly was waiting for them inside, but she had a sinking feeling that it wasn't good.
Ceil took a step forward, his voice low but firm. "We go in quiet."
Lucian, ever the soldier, nodded. "Standard formation?"
Ceil smirked, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes, but it was gone in an instant. "You're not a soldier anymore, Lucian."
Lucian rolled his eyes, his fingers brushing the handle of his gun as he adjusted his stance. "Old habits die hard."
Velena stayed close, her body tense as they crossed the threshold into the safehouse. The door creaked shut behind them with an unsettling sound, but it didn't matter. Every sound in the house seemed amplified, making the silence that much more oppressive.
The floorboards creaked beneath Ceil's footsteps, but they were careful, quiet—ghostly in their precision. Velena had seen him move like this before, but in the dark, in the shadows, he was something else entirely. Something lethal.
Lucian gestured toward the hallway, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll clear the back."
Ceil nodded in response, his eyes scanning every corner. "Take the left. Velena, stay close."
She did as instructed, her movements swift but cautious. But despite her focus, the feeling in her gut never eased. The house wasn't empty. She could feel it—feel the presence of something, or someone, watching them from the shadows.
THE WARNING LEFT BEHIND...
The group made their way through the safehouse with the quiet efficiency of professionals, but when they reached the main living area, everything changed.
A chair sat in the center of the room. It was perfectly placed, almost too perfect. As if it had been waiting for them.
On the chair, resting casually as though it belonged there, was a single black envelope.
Lucian muttered a curse under his breath. "Yeah. This is bad."
Velena's heart skipped a beat as her gaze locked onto the envelope. Black envelopes never boded well. They were more than just letters; they were messages. And those messages were rarely friendly.
Ceil stepped forward, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger before he bent down and retrieved the envelope. His jaw tightened as he slid a blade under the seal, opening it with one swift motion. Inside was a single piece of paper, folded carefully in half.
Three words. Handwritten in dark ink.
"Time's running out."
Velena's breath caught in her throat. She knew those words. They weren't just a warning; they were a challenge. A promise.
Lucian's face darkened, his fingers curling into a fist. "This isn't just a message. It's a game."
Ceil's voice was cold, his eyes narrowing as he read the words again. "Then let's make sure we win."
But Velena wasn't so sure. This wasn't just any game. This was Rafael Cain's game. And if he was already inside their safehouse…
That meant they were already losing.
SOMETHING ELSE WAS MISSING...
Ceil's eyes flicked around the room, his sharp gaze taking in every detail. His instincts were telling him something was off, but it wasn't just the envelope. No, something else had been changed. Something subtle.
And then, his eyes fell on it.
The clock on the wall.
It was frozen at 3:06 AM.
Velena frowned, her mind trying to process the significance of the time. "Did the power cut?"
Lucian pulled out his phone and checked it, but there was no indication of a power outage in the area. "No outages in this area," he muttered, his brow furrowing.
Ceil's grip on the envelope tightened as his gaze stayed fixed on the clock. 3:06 AM. The exact time they had arrived. But that wasn't the problem.
The problem was the timing itself.
It was no coincidence.
"That's when he entered," Ceil said softly, his voice betraying none of the anxiety he was feeling.
Velena's heart sank. "He wanted us to know."
Lucian's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "He's taunting us."
Ceil shook his head, his expression hardening. "No."
His voice was dangerously calm. "He's hunting us."
A FINAL MESSAGE...
The atmosphere in the room grew heavier, colder.
Velena felt something cold against her fingers. She glanced down in confusion. Her necklace chain had broken.
She hadn't touched it.
Her breath caught in her throat, panic rising in her chest. "Ceil…"
He followed her gaze, his expression darkening as he saw what she was staring at.
On the surface of the wooden table, deep scratches marred the otherwise smooth finish.
Four words had been carved into the wood. They were precise. Deliberate.
"I was already here."
Velena's heart pounded in her chest. The words burned into her mind.
Ceil's fingers twitched at his side, his muscles coiling in restraint. His jaw clenched, but there was no anger in his eyes—only cold, calculated fury.
Lucian took a slow step back, his gaze flicking to the door, then back to Ceil. "Yeah. We need to leave. Right now."
Velena didn't argue.
Because now, she understood.
This wasn't just a warning.
This wasn't a threat.
This was a declaration.
Rafael Cain wasn't just coming for them.
He was already watching them.
THE CAMERA IN THE ROOM...
Ceil's eyes narrowed as he took a slow step toward the chair. He could feel something was off—again. Something was hiding in plain sight.
His gaze landed on the armrest. A tiny black dot, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it.
A camera lens.
Velena's stomach dropped.
Lucian cursed under his breath. "We're being watched."
Ceil's smirk was sharp, cruel. "Not anymore.
In one fluid motion, he pulled out his knife and stabbed it through the lens, the blade sinking into the delicate mechanism with ease. A brief hiss of static filled the room before the feed cut off entirely.
Velena exhaled in relief, but the feeling didn't last. They were too late.
Lucian clenched his jaw, his eyes darkening. "If he was watching, that means he saw everything."
Ceil wiped the blade on his sleeve, his movements precise. "Then let's give him something new to watch."
Velena frowned, a growing unease settling in her stomach. "What do you mean?"
Ceil's gaze met hers, his expression hard as steel. "We're not running. We're making him come to us."
Lucian blinked in surprise. "You want to bait him?"
Ceil's smirk returned, sharper than ever. "Exactly."
Velena's breath caught in her throat. "Ceil—"
His gaze flicked to her, a quiet intensity in his eyes. "Rafael Cain thinks we're scared."
His voice was soft, but it carried the weight of something dangerous. "Let's prove him wrong."
Velena wasn't sure if that was bravery or insanity.
But one thing was certain.
The real game had just begun.