I am coming for you!

As the clock ticked over to the dreaded hour, a hush fell over the police control room, a silence so profound it was almost a presence in itself. Every eye was locked on the central screen, every breath held in anticipation and fear. The stream blinked to life, and for the first time, the face of their tormentor was laid bare.

Rodel Marquez sat in a nondescript chair, his posture deceptively casual. But there was nothing relaxed about his face. Scarred and twisted, it was a grotesque map of the pain and fury that consumed him. His misshapen teeth were bared in a perpetual sneer, his eyes hollow pits that seemed to absorb the light around him.

Cradled in his lap, bound and unconscious, lay Dr. Amanda Reeves. And in his hand, a knife danced and glinted, caressing her prone form with a lover's intimate touch.

In the control room, Jane felt bile rise in her throat, her stomach churning with revulsion and dread. Beside her, Kobe was a statue of barely restrained rage, his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

The other officers were no better. Faces pale, jaws clenched, they watched the screen with a mix of horror and helpless fury. Every flick of Rodel's knife, every twitch of Dr. Reeves' unconscious body, sent a collective flinch through the room.

For long, agonizing minutes, Rodel said nothing. He simply sat, playing the knife over his victim's body, his dead eyes fixed on the camera. The only sound was the occasional click of his tongue, a noise that had become the soundtrack to their darkest nightmares.

"*Click* Detective Harlow." When he finally spoke, his voice was a rasp, a grating whisper that somehow filled the room. "You spoke of my accident. In your little... press conference. *Click*"

The knife stilled, resting against Dr. Reeves' cheek. In the control room, every breath was held, every muscle tensed.

"*Click* You think you understand pain, Detective? You think you know loss? *Click*" Rodel's voice was still soft, but there was an edge to it now, a hint of the madness lurking beneath. "You know nothing. *Click* Nothing of what it is to have your life ripped away. Piece by piece. *Click*"

His tongue clicked faster, the knife beginning to move again. It traced the contours of Dr. Reeves' face, dipped into the hollow of her throat. Jane's heart was in her mouth, her pulse pounding in her ears.

"*Click* And then you dare. *Click* You dare to challenge me. *Click* You, with your perfect life. Your perfect face. *Click* You think you're better than me? *Click* Stronger than me? *Click*"

The clicking was almost constant now, a manic staccato that punctuated each word. The knife flashed, nicking Dr. Reeves' skin, drawing beads of blood that welled and rolled like crimson tears.

In the control room, someone made a noise, a choked sob of anger and despair. Kobe's hand found Jane's, gripping it with desperate strength. She clung back, anchoring herself to him, to the solid reality of his presence.

"*Click* You women. *Click* You think you rule the world. *Click* Think you can take what you want. *Click* My son. *Click* My leg. *Click* My wife. *Click* You took everything from me! *Click*"

Rodel was shouting now, spittle flying from his twisted lips. His face was a mask of pure, unbridled rage, his eyes blazing with a fevered light. The clicking of his tongue was a frenzied rhythm, the knife a darting silver blur.

Suddenly, violently, he surged to his feet. Dr. Reeves tumbled to the floor, a discarded doll. Rodel loomed over the camera, his distorted features filling the screen.

"*Click* I'm letting her go. *Click*" His voice was a hiss, a venomous promise. "*Click* But only because I'm coming for you, Detective. *Click* I'm coming for you, and when I find you... *Click*"

He leaned in closer, so close his labored breathing was a harsh rasp through the speakers. His eyes, filled with a mad, obsessive light, bored into the camera, into Jane.

"*Click* You thought you could beat me, Detective Harlow? *Click* Thought you could outsmart me? *Click* Oh, the things I'm going to do to you. *Click* I'm going to make you scream. *Click* Make you beg. *Click* I'm going to break you in ways you never knew you could be broken. *Click*"

He was practically panting now, his tongue clicking with a feverish intensity. In the control room, the horror was a palpable thing, a suffocating weight. Jane felt Kobe's hand tighten around hers, felt him draw her closer, as if he could shield her from the madness emanating from the screen.

"*Click* And when I'm done, *Click*" Rodel whispered, his voice a caress, a threat, "*Click* when you're nothing but a broken, ruined shell, *Click* I'm going to make you watch as I take everything you love. *Click* Just like you took from me. *Click*"

With a final, manic burst of clicking, he straightened. He cast a dismissive glance at Dr. Reeves' crumpled form, then strode off-camera. For a moment, the shot lingered on a nondescript background, what looked like a bridge. Then the feed cut to black.

In the ringing silence that followed, Jane was aware of Kobe's ragged breathing beside her, of the stifled sobs and curses of the other officers. But she couldn't move, couldn't tear her eyes from the dark screen. Rodel's words echoed in her mind, his promises of pain and destruction.

She had known, when she challenged him, that she was painting a target on her own back. Known that she was inviting the devil himself to her doorstep. But to hear it, to see the depths of his obsession, the bottomless well of his rage... it shook her to her core.

"Jane." Kobe's voice was a hoarse whisper, his grip on her hand almost painful. "Jane, we won't let him near you. I swear it. I'll die before I let him touch you."

Around them, the other officers were rallying, shock and horror giving way to grim determination. Calls were being made, orders shouted, the machinery of justice grinding into motion.

But as Jane stood there, Kobe's solid presence at her side, she couldn't shake the icy certainty that had lodged in her gut.

Rodel Marquez was coming for her.

And Heaven help anyone who stood in his way.