Just before he entered the car, Jack felt something whisk past him. His entire back was covered in sweat as he turned, but no one was there. It was just the wind billowing through the dark.

  A squirrel blurred out of the forest and darted across the road. It stopped at the other end, regarding Jack with its bubbly eyes. Briefly, the patrol officer forgot everything he had experienced some minutes ago.

  "Hello, fella," he said with a smile. "Are you looking for some nuts? For ya wife and kids?"

  Jack had expected the beautiful squirrel to squeak at least—standing on its hind limbs would have been spectacular. But, the creature didn't do any of those.

  Instead, it paused for a moment and gazed at the human, nose sniffing, whiskers trembling. Then, it let out a loud shriek which broke the silent atmosphere.

  Jack was startled. There was something inhumane about that shriek. The squirrel—seemingly terrified of something unseen—scurried off.

  "Not the cemetery..." the patrol officer shivered when he saw the poor creature jump over a gravestone and vanish into the dark.

  Jack shook his head lightly. "What was that for? I was really scared out of my wits..."

  Without second thoughts, he got into the police car and closed the door. He would have driven away, but that would be neglecting his duty. So, he clenched his teeth and waited for backup. They should be here any moment from now.

  A thought soon crossed his mind. What if the things he had experienced today was real? He shuddered at that thought.

  "I can bet I saw a reflection," he muttered to himself. "It was cast on the car's surface... it could have been my imagination though."

  The corpses and strange voice were all eerie, imprinted in his mind like a tattoo. He convinced himself that it was just a serial killing case, nothing more.

  "And I wanted something interesting." Jack pressed his palms together and rubbed them. The cold was getting worse, biting into his body like a ravenous fiend.

  He waited for backup in the car, each minute a test of his courage. He was tired and sleepy, but didn't dare close his eyes. He was afraid of the thing lurking in the darkness, even though he told himself it wasn't real.

  Soon, blinding headlights illuminated his car. Backup was finally here! His face brightened as he heaved a sigh of relief. He even thanked God for his life—ironically, he was an atheist.

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  Two vehicles arrived, engines revving and tyres rolling. The two vehicles were black sedans, the only difference being one marked and the other unmarked. The sedans drove to a halt a few meters away.

  Two detectives stepped out of the unmarked sedan, their eyebrows narrowed and lips upturned. After being informed of the crime, they couldn't help but feel that Gary was becoming more chaotic.

  Behind them were the forensics from the other sedan. They were part of the Crime Scene Unit, their hands gripping evidence kits, cameras and fingerprint tools. Jack always referred to them as 'Doctors without borders'. He would have done so today, but the situation was too grave.

  Another black sedan soon slid to view and halted a few meters away from the other vehicles. Uniformed patrol officers soon dropped out of the vehicles and fanned out. They went off to cordon off the cemetery, icy breath spilling out of their nostrils and mouths.

  Jack almost stumbled as he alighted his patrol car. The detectives were heading toward him, their expressions grim. The patrol officer knit his brows and wondered if they had been offended by their superior.

  The lead detective, John Foyers, stepped forward. His green eyes sized Jack swiftly. "What exactly happened when you arrived?" he asked.

  Jack almost frowned. He thought he had informed the dispatcher of the situation when he made the call. Were these detectives ignorant or just arrogant?

  Jack inhaled and answered him, telling the man how he had arrived here to see the first corpse. John Foyers—who didn't even seem around thirty—nodded slowly, as if interacting with a young officer.

  Jack was annoyed but didn't complain. He thought that was all, but John continued, "Describe everything. Times, positions—everything you observed before we got here. And I'm not talking about speculations here."

  Jack nodded and reached out for his notebook. He had penned down everything in there—a standard protocol of a police officer.

  "Make sure to include who you contacted, the sequence of events, and anything unusual," the second detective chipped, his blue eyes scanning the environment. "We'll need it in the official report."

  Jack's eyes flickered. He remembered the sensation of being watched—of something whisking past him—and shuddered. He didn't dare write something like that as his report. His superiors wouldn't waste any effort in shipping him to an asylum.

  John tugged at his black suit and exhaled icy breath. "It's too cold here, Matthias," he said to his partner. "I should have taken my caffeine along."

  What do you need caffeine for? Jack frowned deeply.

  "We won't be staying here for long," Matthias replied. He patted his jean trousers before yawning.

  Both of them then walked forward, leaving Jack alone. Obviously, they were taking a look at the crime scene. He sighed and resumed what he was doing.

  Before he could even finish, a news van screeched to a stop; the media had arrived. The sight of reporters spilling out made Jack's heart churn. He hated the whole lot of them—the reporters—as they always made things hard for the law enforcement.

  If it was within his power, he would have sent them all off till they understood what was happening. Peace was what Gary needed now, and the reporters always brought the complete opposite.

  Phones recorded and cameras swung into shoulders as the reporters made their way toward the crime scene. They wore bright jackets, press badges hanging down their necks. One cameraman set up a tripod near the perimeter while a reporter rehearsed her opening line, red recording lights blinking on.

  The detectives didn't even seem to notice them. They were now examining the corpse lying some meters away from Jack's cars.

  "This is gonna be a long day," the patrol officer sighed as he rubbed his eyes. Then, he turned around and faced west.

  Standing there was an old building. It was made out of heavy wood covered in rot and vines. The glass windows reflected the bright headlights, stains and cracks running across the surfaces.

  This was one of the buildings which stood on the Gary Child Services' property. No one knew why, but the property was totally off limits. None of the netizens cared to know because the area was ominous. Only insane people would dare trespass the property.

  Tick. Tock.

  The sound came, slow and deliberate like a countdown. Jack's eyes flickered as he gasped. A clock was ticking so loud and yet, nobody seemed bothered. They were all carrying out their duties with seriousness.

  What's... going on? he asked himself.

  Gong!

  Something chimed in the distance, dread gripping Jack's heart. Then, he saw it: a face staring at him from behind the window. Its facial orifices were missing—torn off and replaced by bloody gashes.

  Jack froze, locked on the monster. Then, it curled its lips into a smile. "I... want... to eat..."

  Its childish voice bled through his ears—this wasn't his imagination; a monster was haunting him!

  The ticking and chiming continued, each second hammering Jack's heart. No one noticed this phenomenon, only the monster. It bore testament to the horror he was experiencing.