The conference room smelled faintly of coffee and damp paper. Overhead, the fluorescent lights buzzed like a swarm of tired wasps, casting a sterile glow over the people seated around the table.
It was early morning, yet no one looked like they had slept. Judith's coat was still dusted with pine soil. Jason sat stiffly, hands clasped in front of him, as if afraid they might betray his anxiety. Scott adjusted his gloves even though he wasn't wearing any. Sofie stared blankly at her tablet, the screen unlit.
And at the head of the table stood Chief Tyson — tall, composed, but visibly straining under the pressure that had settled like a fog over Ridgecliff... again.
"Alright," Tyson began, placing both hands on the table, "Let's get into it."
Brendon sat near the back, eyes sharp, jacket still smelling faintly of smoke and forest rot. Next to him, Robert had just taken his seat — he'd arrived only minutes before, rubbing his eyes, muttering curses about the early hour and the fact that his phone hadn't stopped vibrating since dawn.
Tyson looked around, gaze pausing on each face as if he were counting soldiers before a battle.
Tyson: "As of 4:45 AM, we officially have a homicide on our hands. Or possibly something worse. Found in Ashwood Pines — a female body, dismembered and partially burned. Deliberately arranged. We're assuming this is either a ritualistic murder or a start of a serial killing. Judith?"
Judith rose, clearing her throat as she tapped a few images onto the projector. The stark photographs flashed onto the whiteboard. Charred bones. Scorch marks. The twisted angles of limbs not left by chance.
Judith: "Victim is female. Likely in her 20s or 30s. Partial remains suggest an attempted full burn, but it was poorly executed. No ID proofs, no clothing, no external possessions found on-site. The remains were posed. Not dumped."
Jason shifted uncomfortably.
Judith continued: "We've sent samples to the lab. Cause of death still unknown, but the skull was cracked, and we suspect blunt force trauma. Whether that came before or after death… we'll know soon."
Chief Tyson nodded. "Scott, anything from your end?"
Scott leaned forward, folding his hands.
Scott: "As of now, not much to go on. The soil degradation indicates the body was here for a few days, but the fire only happened a night ago. We're analyzing ash, bone density, and surrounding flora. There's a faint trace of ammonia and engine oil near the burn site. That's our best chemical lead."
He offered a small, almost defiant smile. "I'd wager we'll get something tangible soon. If this person made one mistake at the scene — just one — we'll find it."
Tyson gave a small grunt of acknowledgment. "Let's hope you're right."
There was a brief silence, broken only by the flick of Sofie's fingernail on her tablet. She looked up, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
Sofie: "Digital sweep doesn't give us much yet. No cell towers pinged from the area around that timeframe — not surprising, the signal's weak out there. The cameras closest to the main road leading into Ashwood Pines are outdated, but I'll check traffic logs."
She sighed and tapped a few more keys. "I'll admit it — my side's empty for now. I'll do another scrape once we have the victim's identity. If this guy had any online footprint, I'll find it."
Brendon: "Thanks, Sofie."
She glanced up briefly and gave him a small nod.
Then, she paused, as if remembering something.
Sofie: "By the way — I made a new WhatsApp group. The old one's gone with Brendon's old phone, and the backup is corrupted."
Her thumbs flicked quickly over her phone screen. "Brendon, what's the new number? I'll add you."
Brendon leaned forward and gave her the digits — the same number Camelia had given him after fixing him up with a burner. Clean, untraceable. A whisper of his old life he hadn't yet shaken off.
A few seconds later, his phone buzzed.
[You've been added to: RC Homicide - Core Team]
Brendon looked at the group icon — a generic image of a police badge. The message feed was already active, with Judith having uploaded crime scene stills and Scott linking a shared folder for evidence uploads.
Robert groaned. "Just what I needed. More messages when I'm trying to eat dinner."
Brendon smirked. "You still eat dinner like it's your last meal?"
Robert: "Every night. Life's too short to skip roast chicken."
Tyson cleared his throat, the room sobering again.
Tyson: "Focus. The mayor's already called twice. We need to keep this airtight. No leaks to media, no speculations. We will wait for lab confirmation, then we will start building motives, suspect pool, and connections. Everyone clear?"
The table nodded.
Tyson: "Dismissed. Update me in every three hours."
He turned and left without another word.
The room slowly scattered — Judith and Jason headed to the evidence room, Scott lingering to send files, and Sofie quietly stepped out, phone glued to her hand.
That left Brendon and Robert.
Robert leaned back in his chair, whistling low.
Robert: "Hell of a way to start a day."
Brendon rubbed his temple. "That's one way to put it."
Robert: "I mean, I read the report on the drive here. Barely halfway through, and I already wanted to puke. What kind of sick f*** arranges bones like that? Not just a killer. A message-sender. A... f***ing psycho."
Brendon looked up, voice low.
Brendon: "You think it's just some random lunatic?"
Robert scoffed. "If it was random, the body would've been left in a bin. Not propped up in a pine grove like a twisted art exhibit. Whoever did this is a son of a b!*ch."
Brendon nodded slowly.
Brendon: "We've both seen our share of messed-up cases. But this… this feels different."
Robert looked at him sideways. "Different how?"
Brendon hesitated, choosing his words carefully.
Brendon: "This isn't just about killing. It's about spectacle. Symbolism. And whoever did this? They wanted to leave a mark... a statement. But the question is for whom? Us? No if they wanted they could have placed the body near our doorstep... without any burning obviously."
Robert: "So what's your take on it then?"
Brendon chuckled dryly. "Not yet. I don't want to make a speculation already."
He leaned forward, arms folded.
Brendon: "I will wait for now."
Robert frowned. "I know. That old school lay back sh!t. Right?"
Brendon: "Yeah."
For a moment he remained silent. Then he pulled a photo from his coat pocket and slid it across the table. "Do you recognize this photo, Robert?"
Robert studied it for a moment, then exhaled sharply.
Robert: "Nope. Never. What the hell is this thing?"
Brendon: "A symbol. Someone sent me when I arrived here."
Though Brendon wanted to tell Robert about his encounter with the infamous Ninja Fox and the work she has given him and what is this symbol. But he restrained himself. He told a lie. Another of many he has told in his enture life. But the question is — Will he regret it later?