The morning haze hadn't yet burned off when the ping came.
Brendon was inhaling his second cigarette, the bitter heat burning down his throat as he scrolled through a report Judith had sent an hour earlier. His fingers paused mid-swipe when the WhatsApp notification lit up the top of his phone.
[RTPD Homicide – Core Team]
Chief Tyson:
"New assignments. Effective immediately."
Another ping.
Chief Tyson:
"Scott – stay in lab. Prioritize chemical traces and bone ash sample. Get back to me with any anomalies or patterns. I want to know what the killer used and why."
Chief Tyson:
"Sofie – tap into CCTV closest to the Ashwood Pines forest trail. Cross-check vehicle movements between 1:00 and 5:00 AM. Start building a preliminary suspect list based on irregular patterns. Also do a deep-scrape for deleted social media activity. Keywords: Ashwood, fire, ritual."
Chief Tyson:
"Jason + Judith = Team Herb.
Brendon + Robert = Team Canine.
Both teams move now."
Robert, still chewing his way through a stale bagel across the table, raised an eyebrow. "Team what now?"
Brendon looked up, smirking slightly. "Herb and Canine. Either Tyson's getting poetic or we're finally being rebranded as a gardening club."
Robert muttered, "Hope Team Weed gets stuck in thorns," then tossed the rest of the bagel into the bin.
More messages followed.
Chief Tyson:
"Team Herb – assist Sofie on foot. Comb the area around Ashwood Pines. You've got a radius of 100 kilometers. Interview anyone and everyone. Campers, vagrants, nearby residents. If they so much as smelled smoke, you ask them what brand of wood it was."
Chief Tyson:
"Team Canine – back to the scene. Sweep everything. I don't care if it's a pine needle that smells funny, you pick it up. If we missed something before. Find it."
Chief Tyson:
"Report every two hours. No excuses."
Then came the final message:
Chief Tyson:
"Do not treat this as a routine investigation. Whoever did this, is a threat for this society."
Silence followed.
Judith reacted with a ✅. Jason sent a thumbs-up emoji. Scott simply wrote: "Understood."
Sofie posted a location pin labeled "Checkpoint 1: North Trail Access."
Robert texted privately to Brendon: "I bet we're going to find something weird today."
Brendon didn't reply. He thought — why Robert is even messaging me privately? Aren't we in one room?
---
Ashwood Pines, 9:17 AM
The forest was quiet. Too quiet.
Brendon and Robert stood side by side near the scorched grove, the crime scene now cordoned off with fresh yellow tape. Most of the ash had settled like snowfall, resting in strange patches on the earth, charred bark, and tree roots.
Robert adjusted the strap of his vest and looked around. "Weird being back here. Forest still smells like burnt flesh."
Brendon kneeled near the edge of the clearing, his hand brushing through cold, brittle soil. "You're not wrong actually."
The morning sun filtered through the canopy above, throwing fractured light across the scene. Birds chirped in the distance, far away from where death had claimed the soil.
Robert took a few steps toward the western slope. "Think we missed something the first time?"
Brendon didn't respond. His eyes traced the circular blackened patch where the body had been — charred, desecrated, arranged. A mockery of ritual, though something still felt… off.
They split up instinctively, their years of experience choreographing the silent hunt.
Robert moved toward the treeline, boot crunching lightly over dead leaves. "Maybe they came in from this side. We didn't fully check that slope." He called out.
Brendon nodded and circled around. The trees here grew tighter, more crowded. At some point, a thicket of brush scratched against his jeans. His hand pushed them aside — and then he froze.
There it was.
Lying half-buried under a blanket of pine needles was a mask.
Not a full face mask — just the upper half, like a masquerade mask. White, weathered, and smudged with soot. Its left edge was chipped, and the paint flaked like aged porcelain. The eyes were hollow — long oval cutouts, emotionless and deep.
He crouched low, heart ticking a little faster.
His gloves were already on. He reached out, gently lifting it with two fingers and brushing the debris away. It had a slightly oily texture — rubbery on the inside, like a cheap costume prop. But the outside… it was theatrical. Deliberate.
A character mask — one that might belong to a jester or mime. Or something worse.
"Robert," he called out sharply.
His partner came jogging over, squinting. "What is that…?"
Brendon turned the mask toward him. "Found it tucked under leaves. About ten meters from where the fire was set."
Robert stared at it. "You think it's from the killer?"
Brendon: "Too close not to be. Might've fallen. Or… maybe it was left here on purpose."
Robert tilted his head. "Left like a signature?"
Brendon: "No... it was buried. Maybe he wanted to get rid of it. But why burying it?"
He pulled out an evidence bag from his coat and sealed the mask in. As he did, he noticed faint red residue at the inside edge — barely visible. Could be paint. Could be blood.
"I'll have Scott run this. Could be fibers, DNA, anything."
---
Meanwhile — Team Herb, 10:22 AM
A dusty Toyota pulled off the gravel road near the southeast edge of the forest.
Jason leaned out of the passenger window. "That's the second camper today that said they smelled burning but didn't report it."
Judith tapped notes into her phone. "They probably thought it was a forest bonfire. Half of them aren't even locals."
They stepped out, approaching a makeshift campsite beside a small creek. A young couple sat roasting mushrooms over a portable flame stove.
"Excuse me," Judith called, her badge raised. "We're with Ridgecliff PD. Mind if we ask a few questions?"
The girl blinked. "About the fire? The ranger already—"
Jason cut in gently. "We just need to confirm details. You were here the nights ago?"
The guy nodded. "Yeah. Smelled something acrid around 3 AM. Thought it was a campfire upwind."
Judith: "Did you see anyone nearby?"
"Actually…" the girl hesitated. "We heard rustling. My boyfriend thought it was a deer, but it sounded… heavier. Like boots."
Jason leaned in. "Which direction?"
She pointed up the creek, toward the north ridge. "There. Just for a few seconds. Then nothing."
Jason and Judith exchanged glances.
---
Back at RTPD – 11:45 AM
Scott stared into the microscope with narrowed eyes.
The material from the mask's inner edge was odd — layered with soot, yes, but also fragments of cheap latex and… makeup? He frowned. Not just makeup — stage paint. The type used in theater or street performances.
He opened his notebook.
Traces:
Soot
Red pigment (likely stage paint)
Human skin cells (sample sent to DNA)
Pollen from pine and foxglove
Foxglove? That was rare.
He quickly messaged the group.
[RTPD Homicide - Core Team]
Scott:
"Mask found by Team Canine – confirms trace of stage paint and foxglove pollen.
Strange combo. Possibly costume-related. Checking with local theater records."
Brendon:
"Foxglove?"
Scott:
"Yeah. Dangerous plant. Can be used medicinally, or… fatally. Too much shuts the heart down."
Sofie:
"Just pulled up a closed case from 2022. Theater prop artist in Ridgecliff went missing. Disappeared on Halloween. Family reported him wearing a 'white jester mask.' Matching design. No resolution."
Judith:
"That's too close to ignore."
Tyson:
"Pursue it. All of it. Reopen the 2022 file. Find any overlap."
---
Ashwood Pines – 12:30 PM
Brendon stared up at the trees again. The wind whispered through the branches, and somewhere in the distance, a hawk cried.
Robert nudged him. "What are you thinking?"
Brendon murmured, "Maybe... uhh... nevermind."
Robert: "Huh? What's gotten into your mind?"
Brendon: "A script… or a ritual. Either way, it seems ugly."