Chapter 5:

The forensic lab was a sanctuary of reason amid the chaos of the outside world. Cold white lights illuminated stainless steel surfaces and high-tech equipment. The air, filtered and sterile, contrasted sharply with the organic, putrid humidity Marcus imagined in Stargher's mind. There, in that immaculate space, the truth was sought with scientific methods, with precision and logic, not with dreamlike incursions and mental mirages.

Detective Miller, a burly, taciturn man with years of laboratory experience, was carefully handling the handheld mirror Marcus had found in Stargher's room. He wore latex gloves and a crisp white coat. The mirror, now cataloged and labeled as evidence #47-Sigma, rested on an examination table under a high-powered microscope.

"Human blood, type AB negative," Miller said, still looking at the microscope. "Minimal amount, but enough for DNA analysis."

Marcus, standing next to him, nodded. "Any idea who it belongs to?"

Miller shook his head. "There are no matches in the state criminal database. It could be anyone. Or no one registered in the system."

Frustrating. A dead end. But Marcus didn't give up. "And the stain itself? Any clues as to how it got there?"

Miller adjusted the microscope controls, magnifying the image on the computer screen even further. "The stain is old, dried blood. There are no signs of recent cleaning. It looks like it's been there for a while." He paused for a moment, carefully examining a detail in the enlarged image. "Interesting… There are traces of a substance adhering to the blood. Microscopic."

"What kind of substance?" Marcus asked, his interest renewed.

Miller made a few more adjustments to the equipment, changing filters and magnification. After a few seconds of focused silence, he sat up and turned to Marcus, his expression thoughtful. "Could be… wax. Paraffin wax. With traces of red pigment."

Paraffin wax… red pigment… Marcus frowned, trying to connect the pieces. What did wax have to do with a comatose serial killer and a missing girl?

"Wax… like from candles?" he asked, searching for a logical explanation.

Miller shrugged. "Could be. Or it could be modeling wax, beeswax… I need to run more tests to confirm that. And to identify the red pigment." He pointed to the computer screen, where the enlarged image of the blood and wax stain remained. "But the combination is peculiar. Blood and red wax… It's not something you find every day on a handheld mirror."

No, it wasn't, Marcus thought. And the peculiarity was precisely what caught his attention. Elara's mind, her dreamlike, labyrinthine visions, still seemed alien and unreliable. But a blood-stained mirror with traces of red wax... That was tangible. It was a concrete clue, a trail in the real world that he could follow, that he could analyze, that could lead him to the truth.

"Run all the tests you need, Miller," Marcus said, with renewed determination. "Find out what kind of wax it is, what kind of red pigment. And check if there's anything else stuck to the stain, any other trace, no matter how microscopic. I want to know everything you can tell me about this stain."

Miller nodded, his expression professional. "I will, Detective. I'll keep you informed of the results."

Marcus left the lab, breathing in the sterile, science-laden air. The real world, with its laboratories and forensic evidence, gave him back a sense of control and solidity. While Elara was lost in the labyrinths of a psychopath's mind, he would continue working with the facts, with tangible evidence, hoping to find the truth in a stained mirror and in the cold results of forensic science. Because sometimes, reality, in its rawness and detail, could be as disturbing and labyrinthine as any mental nightmare.

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