AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Derik sighed, clearly frustrated. "Someday, you're going to have to learn how to let people care about you."
Morgan clenched her jaw, ignoring the comment. Instead, she focused on the ramshackle house before them. The paint was peeling, the front steps creaked under her weight, and the overgrown lawn seemed to be swallowing the building whole. It was the perfect hideout for someone like Adam Sallow.
"Nobody's answering," Morgan observed after her third knock went unanswered. She stepped back and peered through the dusty windows, seeing nothing but darkness and the vague shapes of old furniture. "Let's check the backyard."
As they rounded the corner of the house, Morgan felt a shiver run down her spine. The entire property seemed to exude a sense of darkness and decay, as though it had been abandoned by the world long ago. But Morgan knew better — this was where their suspect had been hiding in plain sight.
"Stay sharp," she whispered to Derik as they approached the backyard, every nerve in her body on high alert. Somewhere within this forsaken place, they were bound to find something that would lead them closer to the truth. And she wasn't about to let anything — or anyone — stand in her way.
The backyard was a tangled mess of overgrowth, the grass nearly waist-high and choked with weeds. The air hung heavy with neglect, and Morgan couldn't help but feel that they were on the right track. As she picked her way through the underbrush, her eyes caught sight of something out of place — a cellar door, half-hidden beneath a tangle of vines.
"Derik," she whispered, pointing it out to him. "Look at this."
Derik frowned as he approached, taking in the loose chain lock wrapped around the handles. "That doesn't look good. We should be careful."
Morgan's gut churned with unease, but she was determined to see this through. Without a second thought, she pulled out her gun and fired a single shot, breaking the lock.
"Jesus, Morgan!" Derik hissed, wincing at the sound. "You can't just fire a gun off in broad daylight! What if someone heard?"
"Then they'll know not to mess with us," Morgan retorted. She knew that she was being reckless, but she didn't care. She'd been pushed too far, and she needed answers. "Help me with this door."
Together, they pried open the creaking cellar doors, and a foul smell wafted out — a mix of decay and something else, something unidentifiable but deeply unsettling. Morgan felt her stomach turn, yet she couldn't back down now.
"Are you sure about this?" Derik asked, concern etched across his face as he glanced down into the darkness.
"Absolutely," she replied, steeling herself for what lay ahead. "Let's go."
As they descended into the cellar, Morgan's mind raced with possibilities, each more terrible than the last. Who was Adam Sallow, really, and what had driven him to become a killer? And, perhaps most importantly, how many more innocent lives were at stake if they didn't stop him?
Morgan's flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing a narrow set of wooden steps descending into the cellar. The smell grew stronger as they descended, and she pulled the collar of her shirt up over her nose to block out the stench. It was an oppressive mix of death and formaldehyde that made her chest tighten.
"God, it smells awful," Derik muttered, his voice muffled by his own makeshift mask.
"Stay close," Morgan instructed, her voice tense. She couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just about finding their suspect anymore; there was something much darker at play.
When they finally reached the main room of the cellar, Morgan's flashlight swept across the space, revealing a grisly sight: dozens of embalmed birds hung from hooks or lay on tables, their lifeless eyes staring blankly ahead. The smell was almost unbearable now, and Morgan struggled to keep her composure.
Morgan took a deep breath before stepping further into the room. Her heart raced as she contemplated what sort of person could take pleasure in such a macabre display.
As she inched toward the far side of the room, her flashlight illuminated a table covered in polaroid photographs. Picking one up, she saw Melissa's blazing red hair, her face frozen in terror. Another photograph showed Steven, his mismatched eyes wide with fear. And then, there was Alice, the woman with albinism, her pale skin ghostly in the dim light.
"Derik, look at these," she said urgently, her voice shaking. "These are the victims."
"Shit," he breathed, pulling out his phone. "I'm calling for backup."
As Derik dialed, Morgan continued searching the room, desperate to find any clue that might tell them who the killer's next target would be. She saw no other photos, and there was no sign of a camera.
"Where are you hiding it?" she muttered under her breath, her frustration mounting.
"Backup's on the way, and forensics will be here too," Derik informed Morgan as he hung up the phone. "We're going to find this guy, Morgan. We're close."
Her stomach churned, a mixture of adrenaline and nausea from the horrific smell in the cellar. Unable to bear it any longer, she dashed up the stairs and out into the backyard. The fresh air wasn't enough to quell the sickness that had taken hold, and she doubled over, vomiting into the unkempt grass.
Derik was right behind her, concern etched on his face as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Morgan, you need to see a doctor."
"Save it, Derik," she grimaced, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I don't have time for hospitals."
"Will you at least go home and rest?" Derik pleaded. "You've been through a lot today. Let me handle things here. There's an APB out for Adam Sallow, and our team will swarm this place. Just give yourself a break."
