Act 2.2 Duke's Mansion

Deciding to stick to their plan, they risked proceeding without backup or assistance. It was bold, but some extra caution wouldn't have hurt.

Soon, they reached the mansion—a two-story building with many rooms and spaces. Surrounding the mansion was a metal fence, rusted and bent after years of neglect. Right in front of the main entrance stood a fountain with a broken angel statue on top. Water still stood in it, inexplicably crystal clear, as if someone had been maintaining it regularly.

The police car stopped in front of the wide gates. As they got out, they kept their weapons ready. John tried to tug at the gate, but there was a chain—though rusted, it still served its purpose.

"Damn, it's locked. Should we look for another entrance?" he asked, pushing at the gate.

"No, we'll break the chain. Get the bolt cutters," Frank ordered.

Heading to one of the cars, they retrieved the tool, and within moments, the severed chain fell to the ground. Opening the gate, they made their way to the entrance.

They carefully scanned the windows, searching for the killer and preparing for a confrontation, especially if he was armed. As they approached the door, they got into a ready stance. With a swift kick, the door flew open, and they entered, prepared for any potential threat.

Inside, they found a large room with a wide staircase leading to the second floor.

"Proceed with extreme caution. The suspect could be armed, so if there's any danger, shoot on sight," Frank instructed his colleagues again.

"We need two to stay outside and watch the perimeter to make sure he doesn't escape. John, Richard—you stay outside and monitor the exits. We can't let him get away," Frank said.

"Move as a unit, covering each other's backs," he added.

Through one of the windows, a silhouette appeared, watching the officers but disappearing as quickly as it had shown up.

The group proceeded cautiously, checking every corner, nook, or possible hiding place. As they approached one of the rooms, its door shut, two officers took positions on either side, while Frank prepared to kick the door in. Giving a hand signal, he forcefully kicked the door, and it burst open with a loud crash. The police rushed in, spreading out in search of the maniac. But the room was empty. After exiting and regrouping at the entrance, they started to search the nearby rooms, making sure not to lose sight of one another. Having checked the closest rooms, they moved down the hallway on the first floor. One of the rooms had no door. It lay on the floor, clearly smashed in, with multiple chips and cracks on its surface.

Peeking cautiously through the doorway, they visually inspected the area.

"Clear," Mark said as he entered, followed by Robert.

Inside, they found themselves in a kitchen. The place was furnished with old, worn-out, and broken furniture. The air was thick with a musty smell. Their arrival startled some rats, which scurried off in different directions.

"Damn, I almost had a heart attack," Robert whispered, clutching his chest.

"Focus, check every corner," Mark replied.

As the two officers inspected the kitchen, a silhouette suddenly appeared in the doorway. The figure watched them intently. Robert, feeling a chill, as if sensing someone's gaze or a threat, lifted his head and began scanning the darkness, trying to spot anything unusual. His eyes fell on the doorway just in time to catch the fading shadow of a figure slipping out of view.

"Hey, Mark, I think I saw someone over there," Robert whispered, aiming his weapon at the doorway.

"Was it him?" Mark asked seriously, taking aim as well.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the empty rooms, growing louder with each step. The officers tensed up, preparing to shoot. The unsettling sound drew closer and closer, amplifying the unease in the already tense atmosphere. Just when it seemed like the tension couldn't get any higher, Frank appeared in the doorway. Seeing their raised weapons, he immediately ducked back.

"Are you guys crazy? Lower your weapons!" Frank shouted.

"Sorry, sir. We thought someone was in the hallway," Robert mumbled, lowering his gun.

"There's no one here but me," Frank replied, glancing around and noticing that Amber, who had been following him, was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Detective Amber?" Mark asked.

"She was right behind me, checking the next room. Let's go to her," Frank said, moving forward, his nerves still on edge.

Meanwhile, Amber was carefully inspecting the belongings scattered around the room. They were clearly not men's items. She found herself in a small parlor with a fireplace and knight armor lining the walls, surprisingly well-preserved despite the passage of time and the fact that they hadn't been stolen. Although the armor was covered in dust and looked fragile, as if it could fall apart with just one touch, the scene was still unsettling. A few clothes were strewn across the sofa and an armchair near the fireplace.

Some of the shirts and sweaters were small in size, making her think that the owner of these items was short. But the clothes looked more feminine, and the scent lingering around them was anything but masculine.

Perhaps they belonged to victims. However, there hadn't been any reported cases where the victims were stripped or anything of that nature.

The fireplace, judging by the fresh ash and still-warm stones, had been used recently. This meant that the killer was likely here not too long ago. After examining the rest of the room, Amber didn't find anything else suspicious.

Suddenly, the back door, leading to the yard, rattled. Through the glass pane, a dark silhouette was visible.

Amber immediately drew her gun and aimed it at the figure attempting to open the door.

"Who is it? John? Richard?" Amber called out, her voice tense as she peered into the darkness, hoping it was one of her colleagues outside.

There was no response, perhaps because of the noise as the unknown figure struggled to unlock the door, unable to hear Amber's voice. The figure kept trying to force it open, and with another attempt, the door finally swung wide. In the dark doorway, the silhouette stood still. Amber tensed even more, ready to react at any moment.

"Freeze! Don't move, or I'll shoot!" she commanded, her voice steady and firm.

"Wait, don't shoot! It's me, Viktor," the silhouette responded. Amber didn't lower her guard, keeping her gun firmly trained on him. A moment later, she switched on her flashlight, directing the beam onto his face, revealing the forest ranger.

"What are you doing here?" she asked warily, her gun still aimed at him.

"I heard you were heading to the mansion, and I thought I'd come to help," Viktor replied, raising his hands to show he was unarmed. His voice was calm, despite the gun pointed at him.

"Why? This is police business. Tell me, why are you really here?" she demanded, her tone more tense now.

"Relax. I just want to help keep our town safe," Viktor said, lowering his hands slightly, but not making any sudden movements.

"Raise your hands!" Amber shouted, her voice sharper.

Almost immediately after that, the sound of running footsteps echoed through the hallway. A moment later, the other officers burst into the room, weapons drawn.

"What's going on? We heard you shouting," Frank said, quickly assessing the situation. When he saw Viktor, he aimed his gun as well. "Viktor?" he asked, sounding confused.

"Hey, Frank. I'm here to help. If the suspect tries to escape into the woods, I can help track him," Viktor explained, keeping his hands in plain sight.

"Alright, we appreciate the help," Frank said, lowering his weapon, and Robert and Mark followed suit.

"Are you out of your mind?" Amber blurted, still rattled. Noticing that something was off with his partner, Frank approached her.

"Think about it. Would he show up like this if he were working with the killer? If the murderer escapes into the woods, he might have a hideout there. We can't navigate without Viktor's help," Frank whispered to her.

After a brief pause, Amber slowly lowered her gun, though she wasn't entirely convinced.

"Sorry, Viktor. I'm on edge," Amber said, though her suspicions lingered. She couldn't shake the memory of the papers and the weapon she'd found in his drawer.

"It's fine. I get it; things are tense," Viktor replied with a slight smile.

"We've made too much noise. From here on out, we need to be extra careful. Check every corner," Frank ordered, raising his weapon and motioning for them to move. They'd already wasted too much time.

Amber, realizing now wasn't the time for a confrontation, reluctantly let the issue go for the moment. However, she kept a close eye on Viktor, something Frank quickly noticed. As they searched one of the rooms, Frank took the opportunity to catch her alone for a brief moment.

"Why are you so suspicious of Viktor?" Frank asked. Everyone knew the ranger well—he was a former soldier, honorable, and always diligent in his duties. He had saved countless lost hikers and worked tirelessly to preserve the local ecosystem.

"I found patrol schedules in his desk and a suspicious gun," Amber replied, her voice low but firm.

"Hmm, strange, but it could be explainable. He's a former military man, after all, probably just keeping busy. And as for the gun... Why did you think it was suspicious? Rangers have plenty of weapons," Frank said, trying to reason with her.

"Killing time, maybe. But I doubt it. The gun looked a lot like the one that killed the patrolman—same caliber and type," Amber explained, her voice thick with concern.

Frank considered her words for a moment before replying, "That's just a coincidence without concrete evidence. But you're right—I'll keep an eye on him." He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, adding, "Try not to see an enemy where there isn't one."

"Alright," she responded, though doubt still lingered.

The team had few rooms left to search on the first floor, and with five people, it wasn't difficult to check them all. Most rooms were empty, filled only with dust and debris. As they climbed the staircase to the second floor, they remained vigilant, anticipating an ambush.

"Robert, stay here and watch the stairwell. Make sure no one slips past us while we check the rooms," Frank ordered.

Robert nodded and positioned himself at the top of the staircase near a wide corridor lined with numerous paintings. The rest of the team split into pairs and began clearing the rooms on either side of the hallway. Each was dusty and decrepit, offering little of note.

After clearing the remaining rooms, they entered the final one, only to find it completely empty.

"Damn it, where is he? We checked every room, it looks like he managed to escape," Frank muttered, frustration boiling inside him. They had been so close, only to lose the maniac again. He leaned on a desk, deep in thought.

Amber cautiously approached the window and looked out into the courtyard. There was a small shed outside, and she could see two of their colleagues patrolling the area, sweeping their flashlights across the grounds. As she scanned the room again, something caught her eye—a collapsed section of the wall, either due to time or damage. She shone her flashlight on the opening and noticed something obscuring it from the other side. There was clearly another space beyond it.

******

Choice: Bravery

Amber decided to investigate the room herself.

Choice: Caution

Amber chose to call Frank to check the room together.

*******

Amber made up her mind to explore the room alone. A large piece of furniture was blocking her path, and she pressed her foot against it, pushing with all her strength. After a few moments, she managed to move it enough to slip through the gap. She could now see the room beyond.

"Did you find something, Amber?" Frank called out.

"Yes, I'm going in to check," she replied, pushing the last bit of the obstruction aside and squeezing through.

The space inside was cloaked in darkness, illuminated only by the faint beam of her flashlight. In the corner of the room stood an old cabinet, with a few packages of long-lasting food visible on the shelves. Instant meals, mostly. On the table, there was a police radio receiver—one Amber recognized instantly. It looked like the suspect had somehow acquired it and had been eavesdropping on their communications.

Scattered across the table were numerous notes, all written in the same handwriting as the ones found in the library earlier. But what unsettled her the most was a piece of cloth hanging from the ceiling, obscuring the far corner of the room. She raised her gun and cautiously approached it.

As she neared the cloth, a growing sense of unease washed over her. Her head throbbed with a strange pressure, and gripping the cloth with her free hand, she yanked it down despite the intense discomfort. Behind it, she found only an empty corner—but the walls were covered in eerie drawings. Dark figures with elongated limbs and weapons in hand were crudely sketched in charcoal. The entire corner was filled with these disturbing images, and alongside them were drawings of the victims.

[IMAGE]

The most horrifying thing she saw was her own drawing. She clearly recognized her figure and the yellow pupils, the only color besides black.

"Damned psycho," she muttered.

After ensuring no one else was there, she made her way back to the opening and crouched to crawl through. Frank was there to meet her, extending a hand to help her up.

"Did you find something?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, but he wasn't there. It seems he lived here for a while," Amber replied.

"So all the attacks were late. We need to check the rooms again and wrap things up; it looks like there's nothing here," Frank said.

"This mansion is pretty big. We need to check the shed outside; there should be a basement too. We should take a look there as well," Amber suggested.

"You're right. It's too early to relax. If we let even the slightest opportunity for him to escape, he'll remain at large. We won't leave until we've checked every nook and cranny and confirmed he's not here," Frank said with renewed determination.

"Ugh, I should have brought some coffee. It looks like we're going to be stuck here for a while. There may be more hidden rooms than just this one," Amber replied.

"Let's go find Viktor and Mark," Frank said.

As they left the room, they headed to the one where they were supposed to be. Upon entering, they were met with silence—no one was there.

"Where are they?" Frank said angrily, displeased that they were gone.

"I don't know," Amber replied, looking around, but they found nothing.

In the middle of the room stood a piano, covered in a layer of dust, many keys tinged with a yellowish hue, while others were completely missing, and the top was cracked. Suddenly, a sharp sound echoed as one of the keys was pressed, filling the room with its note.

Amber and Frank jumped, aiming their weapons at the source of the sound. Glancing at each other, they cautiously approached to see why the key had been pressed. Amber shone her flashlight into the instrument and discovered a rat living inside. She sighed with relief and turned her gaze back to Frank.

Her eyes widened in shock; right behind him stood a massive silhouette, tall and imposing. Its thin limbs held an axe, the sharp edge gleaming threateningly in the light of the flashlight. It had already swung back to deliver a blow.

"Watch out!" she shouted.

In that moment, acting on instinct, Amber drew her gun, instantly aiming it at the head of the unknown assailant. Her finger pressed the trigger. Frank looked at the weapon pointed at him in confusion, wondering why. Just then, a series of shots rang out.

The room was immediately filled with the smell of gunpowder, and the sounds of the shots shattered the silence. Everything froze for a moment, each person afraid to move.