Chapter 6
It's been a year. A full year since I started watching him. Even now, I can't believe what I've seen. I don't want to believe it. But it's true. He walks freely, untouched, unbothered. No one suspects a thing. I do. I've been watching him every chance I get, and I have nothing but time. He's a ghost, no friends, no family, no life outside his mundane routine. Work. Home. Work. Home. But when he changes… when he becomes someone else, people die. And it's always messy.
He's a killer. A serial killer. And no one believes me. Not my friends, not the police, no one. They think I'm crazy. Maybe I am. But I know what I saw. I know what he is. And I'll prove it, even if it kills me.
Today, he's following his usual routine: work, then home. Nothing out of the ordinary. But I'm ready. I've been waiting for this moment. I'll catch him in the act, and this time, he won't slip away. He doesn't even notice me. Why would he? I'm just an old man, frail and forgotten. Perfect for staying invisible.
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Flashback
"Sir, you know you shouldn't be working at your age. And lately, your performance hasn't been… ideal. You've been sleeping on duty, skipping your rounds. I'm sorry, but we've made the decision to let you go."
The HR woman's voice was soft, almost apologetic. But her words cut deep. She was right, of course. I had been sleeping on the job. My body couldn't keep up anymore. But still, it stung. Today was my last day, and I decided to make it count. One final round through the sprawling building of Transcend Corporation.
I was on the second floor, wheezing from the effort, when I saw it. Two figures near the railing, struggling. At first, I thought it was a fight. Then, in a flash, one of them, a man hurled the other over the edge. The body crashed onto the reception desk below, the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood echoing through the atrium. Blood pooled everywhere.
I froze, my heart pounding. The man who'd done it didn't run. He didn't panic. He just… stood there. Then he walked calmly down the stairs, checked the body, and turned to leave. But before he did, he stopped. Slowly, he turned his head toward me. His eyes locked onto mine, and he smiled. A cold, twisted smile that sent chills down my spine. Then he was gone.
I didn't sleep that night. How could I? The image of his face, the scar running down his cheek, that horrifying smile, was burned into my mind. The next morning, the news confirmed it: "Actor Mr. Hayes Found Dead at Transcend Corporation." I hadn't even recognized him at that moment.
Then came the knock on my door.
"Mr. Finn? It's the police. Can you open up?"
I cracked the door open, peering out. Two officers stood there, one young and nervous, the other older and stern.
"We need to ask you a few questions about last night," the younger one said. "Were you at Transcend Corporation during your shift?"
I nodded, my throat dry. "Yes, but I was fired yesterday. I didn't see anything."
The older cop stepped forward, his tone sharper. "You were the last person logged in the building. A man was murdered. If you know something, now's the time to speak up."
I hesitated. "I was asleep most of the night. I didn't see anything."
The younger cop exchanged a glance with his partner. "We have the suspect on camera," he blurted out, only to be cut off by the older cop's glare.
"Call us if you remember anything," the older cop said, handing me a card. They left, and I stood there, trembling. He'd seen me. The killer. He knew I was there. And that smile… it wasn't just a threat. It was a challenge.
Present Day
I still don't know how I found him. Or maybe he found me. Either way, it feels like a game to him. He knows I'm watching. He wants me to watch. Why else would he let an old man like me trail him for a year?
Today, he stopped in the middle of the street. Just… stopped. For minutes, he stood there, motionless. Then, slowly, he turned to face me. His head tilted to the side, and that smile, the same one from that night, spread across his face. My blood turned to ice. He knew. He'd always known.
Then he turned the corner and disappeared.
I didn't think so. I just walked straight to the police station. Stacy, the desk officer, sighed when she saw me.
"Sir, you can't keep coming here with these stories," she said, not even looking up from her computer. "You never give us any details. No name, no evidence. Just… 'he's a killer.' What do you expect us to do?"
Her partner, Russell, leaned back in his chair, grinning. "I think it's fun. Go on, tell us more."
I ignored him. "He works across the street. I've been following him. He's not human, Stacy. He changes. And when he does, people die."
Stacy rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes. He's an ordinary guy who 'changes,' and we'll never catch him because he 'changes.' Got it."
Her mocking tone stung. I sounded insane, even to myself. But I couldn't stop. "Someone's going to die soon. He's going to kill again. Don't say I didn't warn you."
I stood up, my body aching, and grabbed a handful of cookies from the table on my way out. Russel laughed. "Told you he only comes for the cookies."
The walk back to my spot under the bridge was long and painful. Every step felt like a mile, my body protesting with every movement. But my mind was elsewhere. That smile. That damn smile. He was playing with me. And soon, he'd make his move.