Scene 1: The Death Trap
The silence in the house was thick, almost unreal.Kaito advanced with caution, each step sinking into the carpet of the lounge, muffling the sound of his movements. The light from the television flickered, casting shadows that warped and shrank across the walls. There, seated on the sofa, was the woman.
'Madam… can you hear me?' he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
No reply. Not even a blink.
Kaito took another step, and the air seemed to grow heavier, as though the room itself knew what he was about to discover.
When he finally stood before her, something seemed to drop into his chest.
The woman was dead. Her skin had taken on a greyish hue, her lips dry and cracked, and her eyes—wide open—were tinted red, unmistakable signs of suffocation. Resting on her chest was a letter, folded with an almost sickly precision. The seal: a bloodstained kiss.
Kaito clenched his jaw. That damned seal again.
He was reaching for his weapon when a shadow moved behind him. He had no time to turn. A sharp blow to the back of the neck sent him crashing to the floor. The world became a dark, spinning whirlpool—and then… nothing.
Scene 2: Awakening in the Cellar
A damp chill seeped into his bones.
Kaito opened his eyes slowly, feeling a stabbing pain in his head. His breath came out in clouds of vapour. He was in a dark place, the walls rough cement, slick with moisture, with patches of mould spreading like sick veins.
He tried to move, but a thick chain bound his right leg. The shackle was fastened to an iron ring set deep into the floor. He had scarcely a metre's movement in any direction.
To one side, a small, high window let in a thread of greyish light. In the far corner, a rusted speaker hung askew. On the floor lay a plastic plate of unappetising food and a bowl of murky water—mocking him.
Kaito drew in a deep breath, forcing his body to relax. Don't panic… assess… think…
He could hear the constant drip of a pipe, the creak of wood above his head… and somewhere distant, the faint scrape of metal that could have been a door.
Scene 3: The Meeting with the Executioner
Footsteps grew louder. The lock screeched, and the metal door opened slowly, letting in a blade of light that sliced through the gloom.
A figure appeared in the doorway. Tall, dressed in dark clothes, his face half-hidden in shadow. He was smiling—but it was not a polite smile. It was the smile of cruel satisfaction.
'Welcome to your new home, Detective Fujimoto,' he said in a deep, almost amused voice. 'You'll be here for quite some time… if you choose to survive.'
Kaito fixed him with a steady gaze.'Who are you? Where am I?'
The man laughed—a short, hollow sound.'Oh, I love it when they try to take control. But here… I make the rules.'
He took a couple of steps closer, enough for Kaito to smell his breath—a faint blend of tobacco and metal.
The silence stretched for several seconds, broken only by the distant drip of water.
'You must be wondering… why you,' the man said, tilting his head as though studying prey. 'Why I brought you here, instead of leaving you to rot in a ditch like the others.'
Kaito didn't respond. His eyes locked on the man's, searching for the slightest hint of weakness.
'Do you know what I like most about you, detective?' the man went on, his smile twisting. 'You have that look… the look of someone who's already lost something important. That look tells me you're going to understand what I'm about to say.'
Kaito frowned but remained silent. The killer moved slowly around him, like a predator testing the boundaries of its cage.
'No… I won't start with the ending. You already know the ending. Dead women. A kiss…' he smiled faintly. 'Better to start from the beginning.'
He stopped directly in front of Kaito, leaning in just enough for his words to be almost a whisper.
'When I was a boy… my father left us. Ran off with another woman and forgot we existed. My mother… well… she turned into a bag of bones and poison. Alcohol, drugs… beatings. Every day, every bloody day, I woke up with the taste of fear…'
He paused a metre away, locking eyes with Kaito.
'But the worst part…' he continued, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper, 'the worst part was that kiss. Always the same: I'd wake up to a kiss on the forehead. Her lips… warm, sticky, smelling of blood and cheap liquor. That kiss was her way of reminding me I was hers. A damned reminder of my prison.'
Kaito's brow furrowed.'And you think that gives you the right to murder women?'
The man ignored him, continuing his tale as if in a trance.
'When I was fifteen… I decided to end it. One night… I took a kitchen knife and…' he made a slow gesture, tracing a line in the air. 'Silence. Peace. But ever since… she hasn't left me. In my dreams, she always comes back… always with that bloody kiss.'
The killer smiled—and there was nothing human in it.
'So I decided to help. To help children like me. I clean the world of mothers who hurt, who poison, who destroy their children. It's my mission.'
Kaito felt heat rising in his throat.'You can't justify your crimes! Killing someone will never be right!'
His voice echoed off the walls, and the man's expression shifted in an instant. His eyes hardened, and with a sudden movement he drew a pistol from his belt, aiming straight at Kaito's head.
'Shut up!' he roared. 'You don't understand anything! They deserve to die!'
Kaito held his gaze, though a bead of cold sweat ran down his temple. The killer's finger tightened on the trigger… then slowly eased off. He lowered the gun.
'If you behave yourself… I might not kill you so quickly. After all…' he smiled again, 'I need a bit of entertainment while I plan my next move.'
With a sharp slam, he shut the door, and the echo of his footsteps faded away.
Scene 4: Reflection and Planning
Silence reclaimed the cellar, broken only by the drip of water.
Kaito closed his eyes and breathed deeply, forcing his heartbeat to slow. Calm… you need clarity…
He examined the place again: the chain, the iron ring, the plate, the water… and the speaker. That speaker wasn't there by chance. It could be used to communicate… or to let him hear something.
He touched the walls—cold, damp. He counted in his head the time it took for footsteps to reach the door from the first sound until the moment it opened. Two seconds. The key made a squeal… meaning it could be stolen.
Kaito knew he had to wait for the right moment. And when it came, he couldn't miss. If he escaped, the killer would be vulnerable. If he didn't… it would be the last time he saw the light.
In the gloom, he clenched his fists.'I'm getting out of here… and I'm going to stop you,' he whispered, like a promise carved in stone.