Darkest Fear

Ridgecliff Sheriff's Office

Robert entered the sheriff's office, his movements slow and deliberate due to the pain from his injuries. He sank into his chair, wincing as he adjusted to find a comfortable position. The dim light overhead cast shadows on his bruised face, a testament to the night's earlier events. Reaching for the phone, he dialed Brendon's number, each ring echoing in the quiet office.

"Hey, Brendon," Robert began, his voice weary but laced with a hint of dark humour. "Guess what happened today? I had a near-death experience."

Brendon's voice came through the receiver, concerned. "That's quite a heavy statement. What happened?"

Taking a deep breath, Robert recounted the day's events. "It started with a call from Mayor Guerio. He mentioned hearing from Devina that you'd left town for a vacation. He had a job in mind for you but, since you were away, he asked me to handle it. Told me to come to his office, pick up a red envelope, and deliver it to someone named Flam. Emphasized discretion—said to tell no one."

Brendon listened intently as Robert continued.

"I went to the mayor's office, collected the envelope, and headed to the location he specified—a spot in the black market area. Waited there until this tall, slim guy approached me, introduced himself as Flam. Handed over the envelope, and just as I was about to ask him about its contents, things took a turn."

Robert's grip on the phone tightened as he relived the moment. "Out of nowhere, thugs appeared, thinking I was associated with Flam. They attacked. I'm not much of a fighter, Brendon. Tried to defend myself, but they had the upper hand."

He paused, the memory of what happened next still vivid. "Then, out of the shadows, she appeared. A woman in a black jumpsuit, agile and fierce, with a fox tail. She took them down effortlessly, like she knew every move they'd make. Before I could even thank her or ask who she was, she vanished into the night."

Brendon exhaled slowly. "That's quite a wild ride you had."

"Yeah, certainly feels that way," Robert agreed. "Hey, I have a request. Can I go to your apartment?"

Brendon's tone shifted, cautious. "Why this suddenly?"

"Remember the weird symbol on that package a year ago?" Robert asked, referring to the emblem depicting a man being tortured on a wheel—a symbol historically associated with the breaking wheel, a medieval execution device.

Brendon stiffened at the mention. "Where have you seen that?"

"On Flam's ring," Robert revealed. "I want to check if it's the exact same symbol or just a coincidence."

A tense silence hung between them before Brendon spoke, his voice firm. "No."

"What?" Robert was taken aback.

"I said you're not going into my apartment," Brendon reiterated. "This thing... you should stay away from it. I'll look into it. Only me."

"Brendon, this is getting suspicious," Robert pressed. "Why did the mayor specifically want you for this job? What's going on?"

Brendon muttered under his breath, "So that's why he was happy to hire me in the first place then."

"What did you say?" Robert asked, catching only fragments.

"Nothing," Brendon replied curtly.

Before Robert could probe further, the line went dead.

"Hello? Brendon? Hello..." Robert stared at his phone in disbelief. It wasn't like Brendon to cut off a conversation so abruptly. Something was definitely off.

---

Lagooncrest Isle – Soveniour Villa

Zoe observed Brendon as he ended the call, concern etched on her face. His grip on the phone had been a little too tight, his tone a little too clipped, and his eyes—though trying to seem calm—had flickered with something heavier.

"Who was that?" she asked gently, tilting her head. "What happened?"

Brendon gave a half-hearted shrug and forced a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just Robert. He had a rough day. Nothing to worry about."

Zoe narrowed her eyes slightly. She knew Brendon well enough by now to sense when he was dodging something. But she also knew better than to push him when he'd already decided to put up a wall. Instead, she folded her arms and gave a quiet sigh.

"Alright," she said softly, though it was clear she didn't believe him.

They stepped out of Soveniour Villa, the faint scent of saltwater drifting through the cooling night air. A soft breeze stirred Zoe's hair as they walked through the quiet streets of Lagooncrest Isle. Streetlamps cast golden halos onto cobblestone paths, their footsteps the only sound for several blocks. The silence wasn't awkward—it was mutual, contemplative. The kind that only existed between people who understood each other enough to let the silence speak.

Zoe's house came into view, its soft, warm lights glowing from behind the curtains. It stood humbly by the corner of the lane, a little overgrown with coastal ivy on the front fence, and a chipped wind chime that swayed gently in the breeze. The moment Brendon stepped onto the porch, a familiar, comforting smell wafted through the slightly ajar door—her mother's cooking.

Zoe's mother, Marina, greeted them with a welcoming smile. "Oh, you made it just in time. Dinner's still warm."

Brendon gave a small nod, offering a polite, "Thanks, ma'am."

The table was already set with simple but hearty food—steamed vegetables, grilled fish, and seasoned rice. Brendon sat down across from Zoe, the ambient light of the chandelier above casting soft glows over their faces.

Dinner passed quietly. They ate in near silence, the clinking of cutlery filling the space between them. Zoe's mother tried to spark some small talk, asking Brendon how he liked the Isle or commenting on how quiet the Villa had gotten lately. Brendon responded kindly, but he was clearly somewhere else in his head.

Zoe only watched him, her fork idling over her plate. He looked more tense than usual, his brow occasionally furrowing as if replaying something in his mind. She wanted to ask again—wanted to reach over the table and grab him by the collar and demand answers—but she knew better. Instead, she chose to meet him where he was.

After dinner, Zoe helped her mother clear the table, while Brendon stepped into the living room. He stood near the window, peering out into the starry sky above Lagooncrest. The ocean shimmered in the distance under moonlight, its waves faintly audible even from here.

When Zoe returned, she leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "What do we do next?"

Brendon turned away from the window. "Tomorrow, I'm going to meet Liam. I need all the missing person files. I think… there's a pattern we've been missing."

Zoe nodded. "What about searching the area?"

"That can wait for now," he replied. "We need information before we chase shadows."

Brendon looked at her, the walls in his expression cracking just slightly seeing at her face. "I just… don't want anyone else to get pulled into this mess."

Zoe gave a small, almost amused smile. "Too late for that. You dragged me into this the moment you showed up asking weird questions."

A reluctant chuckle escaped him. "Fair point."

"You should get some rest," she said. "You look like you haven't slept in days."

Brendon let out a long breath. "I'll take the couch."

"You always do."

They shared a small, understanding smile. Zoe retreated to her bedroom with her mother, leaving Brendon alone in the quiet living room. He lay down on the couch, the cushions just stiff enough to be annoying, but he didn't care. The room was dark, save for the moonlight filtering through the curtains. For a while, he just lay there, eyes wide open, mind racing with everything Robert had said.

And somewhere in that silence, exhaustion crept in. The lines between reality and dream blurred.

And that's when the nightmare began.

---

Brendon's Nightmare

The room was cold, an unnatural chill seeping into Brendon's bones. He found himself standing in a vast, empty space, the horizon stretching endlessly in every direction. Shadows danced around him, whispering unintelligible words that sent shivers down his spine.

Suddenly, scenes flashed before him. Robert, cornered in a dark alley, eyes wide with fear as faceless figures closed in. Sofie, Judith trapped in a room with no doors, pounding on invisible walls as the space slowly shrank around her. Scott, standing at the edge of a precipice, looking back at Brendon with a sorrowful expression before stepping off into the abyss.

Brendon tried to move, to call out, but his voice was gone, and his limbs felt like lead. The shadows grew bolder, taking on familiar shapes—figures from his past, friends he'd lost, faces twisted in pain and accusation.

"You couldn't save us," they whispered in unison. "You'll always be alone."

A symbol burned brightly in the distance—the same emblem of the man on the breaking wheel. It pulsed with a malevolent energy, drawing him in, suffocating him with its presence.

Brendon jolted awake, sweat pouring down his face, heart racing. The room was dark, the only sound his ragged breathing. Running a trembling hand through his hair, he tried to shake off the lingering dread.

But deep down, he knew—the nightmare was more than just a dream. It was a manifestation of his deepest fears: being left alone and the looming conspiracies that threatened to consume everyone he cared about.