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Forensic reports were still yet to come back for David’s crime scene, so Ella sat and prayed that they’d find something useful. This killer had stalked a maze of corridors, forced his way into a storage unit and stabbed a man to death; doing so without leaving a trace behind suggested nothing short of supernatural ability. Even with all the forensic countermeasures in the world, you were at the mercy of the elements. All they needed was a hair strand, a boot print, a flake of dried skin. Anything that might point her in the right direction. Once that avenue was fully explored, Ella could begin piecing together the minor details of these victims’ lives to form a bigger picture.
Surrounded bytheunfamiliarityof hernewoffice, Ellawas suddenly overcome with a waveofloneliness. This precinct, a usually bustling and hyperactive setting, seemed to be inastate of suspended animation. She began to feel like a lone specter in a cemetery, the only lost soul still holding on for a second chance at life, her only company the wandering thoughts in her head.
Throughout these ten minutes of quiet contemplation, Ella realized she’d been turning her phone screen on and off every minute. Each time she was met with a blank notifications tab, not even a spam email or a reminder to input her carbohydrate intake into her fitness app.Shedesperately wished for a sign that Ben was thinking of her - a message, an email, anything. Something that suggested their relationship – or even a potential friendship – wasn’t yet six feet under.
Then her thoughts crashed like a meteor as the door swung open and brought Ella hurtling back to reality. Ripley stood there, hand on the doorknob, leaning over the threshold. SheregardedEllawith a searching gaze, her mouth slightly open as if readytospill some secret.
“Dark, we got the security tapes from the storage unit.”
Ella’s pulse raced with anticipation, her excitement growing with every beat. A surge of optimism took over. “And?”
“You need to come and see this.”
***
The officershuddled togetherin the sheriff’s office,their eyes glued tothe computer screen, faces illuminated by the crystal glare. It showed a still, grainy image of the corridor that Ella had been in that same morning. The timestamp in the corner of the screen read 11:12 p.m.
Sheriff Hale said, “This isn’t the main camera near the victim’s unit, but it’s an overhead shot of the entire area. We’ve had a tech guy from Charleston enhance it for us. It’s not perfect, but we’ve got something.”
“The owner didn’t think of mentioning this to us?” Ella asked.
“He didn’t think it would pick anything up, but the camera works on motion-detection apparently. If it picks up any signs of life, it’ll zone in on the area. Mike didn’t know that, or so he claims.”
“Alright. What do we have?”
The sheriff hit the PLAY button and the still image began flicking. The camera jerked left and right before settling into position, then zoomed in slightly on one particular storage unit. Ella recognized it as the one that housed a corpse only a few hours ago. The camera jerked again, then steadied as a shadowy blur manifested in the right-hand corner of the screen. Small, rounded, hardly the shape of a human being. It skulked along the ground, almost floating, and for a moment Ella felt like she was watching one of those hoax paranormal shows that tried to pass off silhouettes as ghosts.
“This is the part our guy enhanced. Check this.”
The grainy footage became a little clearer. Less pixelated, higher contrast, better saturation. Then it zoomed in closer to the scene, the blackened smudge now taking on the contours of a real person. Ella saw black clothing, a hood, a hat, a strange gait, almost hunched over. She couldn’t discern the figure’s height or weight or profile due to the lack of clarity, and his shapeless attire made a hard task even harder. But this rough outline of a human had to be their man. This was their killer. Ellafelt a chill rushthroughher as she sized him up, darkness radiating from him like a black cloud. Even through the screen, without the advantage of in-person analysis, she could sense his murderous intentions.
“Look, he knocks on the door,” the sheriff said. Ella could do without the running commentary, but the sheriff was correct. The figure gently tapped on the door to David’s storage unit, then a small beam of light manifested at the man’s feet. David had opened the door just slightly, but that was all this man needed. After a moment of hesitation from the visible figure, the beam of light expanded as the figure pulled the door open, then disappeared inside the unit, alone with the victim.
“God damn,” Ella said.
A second later, someone shut the door from the other side, and the image remained still. Ella, Ripley, and Sheriff Hale watched as nothing happened for twenty, thirty, forty seconds. Beyond this door, some ghoulish fiend was lost in the act of murder, leaving an innocent man lying in his own blood.Ella’s stomach churned atthe thought,her chest tightening with dread. She wanted to leap into the monitor, catch this son of a bitch in the act and save a poor man’s life, but there was no escapingthepast, and she felt her heart sink as she resigned herself totheinevitable.
Then a new beam of light emerged and the figure snuck out, back into the corridor, leaving from whence he came.
The silencewas palpable; aheavy,oppressive weight seemed to hangin theair, suffocating the three officers surrounding the computer.They all seemed to be holding their breaths, as if they were afraid that eventheslightest movement or whisper would somehow make what they witnessed even worse.
“We got him,” said the sheriff.
“We got a smudge,” said Ripley, “but it’s something to work with. We know which way he left, so if we follow the camera trails in that direction we might get something more useful.”
“Already did. Nothing. There’s an exit just round that corner.” The sheriff tapped the screen. “Chances are he left there. No other cameras nearby.”
“Dammit,” Ripley said. “Send this footage over to me and Dark. We’ll inspect closer, see if we can pull up anything remarkable about him. Even something as nondescript as those clothes and hat might give us a starting point.”
Ella’s headwasa movie theater,her thoughtsspinning like a carousel as she replayedthe footagein her mind’s eye. Every little moment, every brief but potentially meaningful action.Hervision blurred andthecolors seemed to swirl together until it felt almost like shewasseeingtheevents from the perspective of the killer, experiencing his emotions, his desires, his mission.
There was something there. Her senses had registered it but on a subconscious level. Now that she was replaying the whir of images, there was one moment that seemed a little strange, a little at odds with the killer’s abrupt arrival and departure.
“Those clothes could be from anywhere. I doubt he got them around here,” the sheriff said.
“You’re right, but we have to…”
“Stop,” Ella interrupted. She needed to see it again. Or more accurately, hear it again. “Sheriff, play the tape again. Go to the point where he knocks on the door.”
