Page 52 of Hide Me Darling

UNKNOWN

I wanted to scrub that makeup from your pretty throat when I saw it today. Keep trying to hide our marks and see what happens, little shadow.

Chapter 25

Hydessa

Istruggle to control my breathing as I set the phone aside, turning away from the wall and placing my hands flat on the desk. My neck prickles, the feeling that I’m being watched washes over me and I suddenly wish I could hurt someone. I want to scream in frustration.

Turning back around, I stare at the photos as a cold reality begins to sink in. Each girl, captured in a moment of apparent happiness, now feels like a haunting echo of something far more sinister.

The chilling thought that these are the very tourists I've been trying to unravel the mystery of, makes my blood run cold. Their faces now have a grim presence in my space and I want to unleash my darkness on those responsible for extinguishing their light from the world.

Forcing myself to take another deep breath, I try to quell the fury boiling inside me, reminding myself that Cain and Abel told me they don’t kill innocent people. I need to stay focused. My emotions are a weapon, but only if I wield them carefully. I grab my phone and after updating the contact for them, I start documenting the wall, capturing every new photo and which blog it's connected to. The methodical process helps calm my nerves slightly, giving me a sense of control in this chaotic situation.

I send the photographs to Uncle Max in a secure message, asking if he can find out any information from them. I can’t bring myself to let him know how I came across the photos and I hope he doesn’t ask. I trust Uncle Max, but the fewer people who know the details, the safer everyone will be.

As I wait for a response, I decide to double-check the house's security. I move through each room, ensuring windows and doors are locked. Not that it really makes any difference, they have proven at least twice now they can get past the locks. There is no denying that this time I did not simply leave the house open for them.

The unsettling feeling of being watched lingers, making every shadow seem more ominous. I return to my office, my mind still racing with thoughts of everything now pressing down on me.

I almost jump when a notification sounds on my tablet, it's a reply from Uncle Max. ‘Received the photos. I'll see what I can dig up. Be safe.’

His brief message does little to soothe my nerves, but knowing he's on the case brings a small measure of comfort. I look back at the wall, the faces of the girls staring back at me. Each one represents a life cut short, a story that ended in tragedy. I can’t let their deaths be in vain, I need to dig deeper and uncover the reasoning behind this, I need to find out why they killed these women. Is it possible that something more sinister lurks beneath these deaths.

Ignoring the message on my phone, I spend the next few hours combing through my notes and meticulously adding more information to the wall from the interactions I’ve had with the suspects. My lunch is forgotten as my mind buzzes with possibilities, but nothing concrete emerges. Frustration continues to gnaw at me, but I push through, determined to make sense of this puzzle.

The faces of the girls on the wall seem to watch me as I work, like that feeling now has a physical form. I start by listing the suspects again, re-examining each one’s potential motive and opportunity. The names and details intertwine with the blog posts, photos, and my notes. It's a tangled web, and I feel like I'm grasping at straws.

The clock ticks away, and the shadows in the room lengthen. The eerie stillness of the house presses in on me, interrupted every so often by the normal noises of an old house. My eyes strain to read the black and white printouts, and my back aches from hunching over the desk. But I can’t stop. Not now. Not when I might be on the verge of a breakthrough.

Darkness falls, and I'm forced to turn on the light to continue working. Paper is scattered everywhere with my notes, and when my phone chimes with a notification, I have to dig under some of them to find it. Hoping it's a response from Uncle Max, my stomach turns when I see it’s not.

PSYCHO MASKED STALKERS

Care for a game of hide and seek, little shadow? I’ll even give you a clue on where to find me.

A chill runs down my spine as I stare at the message. They’re toying with me. Every instinct screams at me to stop, to pull back. But I can’t. I won’t. Any contact with them may lead to the answers I am looking for. With trembling fingers, I type a reply.

I’ll play.

Seconds feel like hours as I wait for a response.

PSYCHO MASKED STALKERS

Good. Where laughter will soon echo and lights shine bright, now only shadows play in the dead of night. Come play with me at midnight, little shadow.

A riddle. I read it over and over, trying to piece together its meaning. The answer comes to me and my heart speeds up. The carnival grounds.

I glance at the time—midnight is only a few hours away. I mentally plan my next steps, ensuring I take my own knife with me. If this is my chance to put an end to this, even if it means putting an end to them, I have to be ready.

I take a moment to steady myself, then decide to have a quick shower. The photos on the wall distracted me from having one when I returned to the house, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins is making me jittery, and the shower might help clear my head.

I step under the stream of water, letting it wash away some of the fury raging inside me. The cool water soothes my heated skin. I allow a sense of calm to overtake me, a sense of control. I can do this, I can do what needs to be done.

As I start to put on clothes, I decide to go with the normal hunting outfit. They may already know who I am, but the black clothes and mask make me feel safe, like a shield I can hide behind.

With some time left before I need to leave, I pick up my phone again and call my sister. The phone rings twice before she picks up.

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