Hands up! The police have you surrounded from every side! But Ruvan didn't stop. He slid between the officers and sprinted forward, Unstoppable.
Ryn looked at him with disbelief and shouted, "OFFICER'S FIRE!"
Twelve bullets tore through the air, one after another, but Ruvan didn't slow down. Not a single shot even grazed him. Ryn quickly reloaded, took aim, and fired two more. One bullet finally hit Ruvan's leg, forcing him to stumble slightly, but he kept moving forward.
Instead, his speed doubled, his legs moving faster than the eye could follow. In the blink of an eye he vanished from the officers sight, leaving them frozen in shock. For a moment no one moved. Then Ryn noticed a thin trial of blood dripping from his leg, marking his path through the street. It wasn't much but it was enough — enough to lead the police.
Everyone quickly followed the bloody trail, moving as fast as they could. The chase led them through narrow alleys, over broken pavement, and around overturned trash cans. Minutes later, they finally found him — Ruvan, lying motionless in the middle of nowhere. The officers approached cautiously, unsure what to expect. They knelt beside him and carefully touched his body, relieved to find that he was still alive, though unconscious. His chest rase and fell with shallow breath. Suddenly Ruvan's eyes snapped open. He tried to push himself up, to escape again, but the police were faster. Handcuffs clicked around his wrists before they could move.
Ryn stepped forward, staring at him for a long time. Then without a word he punched on Ruvan's head. Ruvan crumpled senseless once more, leaving the officers both wary and exhausted.
Ruvan's senses came back slowly. The light above him was dim. The fan spinning lazily, Making a tired sound. A rotten smell coming and entering his nose. Maybe It's smell of a dead rat or cat. He tried to move but pain flared across his body. Thick rope bit into his wrists — He tied to a wooden chair. A bare table stood in front of him. A few meters away. A constable stood by the cell door.
Ruvan's throat was dry. He croaked, "sir... Sir I am thirsty. Ple... Please — can you bring me a glass of water?"
The constable jumped at the sudden voice. He stared st Ruvan for a long moment, then hurried out. His footsteps faded, then returned with the clink of a glass. He set the glass on the table and held it out his hand trembled. He helped Ruvan lift the glass so the tied man could sip. The water tasted of metal. Ruvan drank greedily while the constable watched, fear and pity in his eyes! When the glass was empty the constable backed away and left the room quickly. The cell door clicked shut. Silence press in. Ruvan wiped his mouth with he back of his hand. He tried to pull at the ropes but they only cut into his skin.
Ten minutes later, heavy footsteps d the door swung open and Ryn came in. He carried a long police stick. His face was hard. He didn't speak. He just raised the stick and hit! Blow after blow landed on Ruvan's shoulders and back. Oain exploded across his skin. His head split with a ringing ache. Blood ran down from a fresh cut above his eyebrows. Each strike left him more bruised, black and blue
When Ryn stopped, Ruvan was barely breathing. His voice came out small and ragged. "I... I am not a murderer. Please let me go." Ryn stood over him, eyes blazing. His chest heaved. For a moment, Ryn's face was stone. Then it cracked. The anger and grief poured out. "How dare you call yourself innocent , " he spat. "You killed nine people in just three months. NINE! One of them was my wife."
Those words hit harder than the stick. Ryn's voice broke. He dropped to his knees and for a second his anger melted into a sob. Tears streamed down his face. He pressed a fist into his mouth, trying to stop a sound, the himself up again. "My heart is telling me to kill you right now," Ryn said, voice low and raw. "To end you here and i do not care about anything after." He breathed heavily, trembling with the thought. Then he shook his head as if cleared it. "But I won't . Not yet."
He leaned close, so close Ruvan could smell the salt of his tears. "I want to know," Ryn said. "Why you do that?Why them ? Tell me. Tell me why you killed my wife" Grabbed Ruvan's jaw with hand.
Ruvan's lips trembled. Blood and swear mixed on his face. He croaked out a single word, but the answer hovered between them kike a thin, fragile thread — a truth neither of them was ready to pull at yet
Suddenly, Ruvan's body began to tremble. At first, Just a faint shiver — then stronger, uncomfortable shaking. Ryn stepped back, startled. Before his eyes,the bruises on Ruvan's face began to fade. The cuts sealed themselves. Even the rope marks on his wrists slowly vanished, leaving his skin unscarred — as if nothing had happened. Within seconds he was completely healed. Not a single wound remained.
Ruvan lifeted his head and stared st Ryn with calm, cold eyes. A faint smile touched his lips. Ryn's eyes widen. His jaw dropped. His voice caught on his throat.
Ruvan spoke softly, almost whispering — yet his words echoed through the silent room. "Maybe I am a Demon or a god."