TK_Selwyn

All I ever wanted was for famous detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Arsène Lupin to appear in my dreams and share their wisdom. But instead, why am I hearing the voices of notorious serial killers in my head, guiding me to solve a string of mysterious cases?

I Can Hear a Serial Killer's Voice in My Head

The sun has barely risen when I park my car across from Oh and Song's apartment, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. I've been here since dawn, waiting, watching. The street is quiet, with only the occasional early morning commuter hurrying past.

At exactly 8:45 AM, I see movement. Song emerges from the building, dressed in a neat blue blouse and dark slacks. She's pulling a small, burgundy suitcase behind her, its wheels making a soft clicking sound on the pavement. My heart rate picks up as I watch her approach the bus stop.

I slouch down in my seat as she glances around, her eyes sweeping past my car without a second look. The bus arrives right on schedule, and I watch as Song boards, disappearing into its interior.

The Fifth Case (7)