The morning light seeped through the barred windows of the women's block, but it brought no warmth. Instead, it carried a chill that swept the hall like a warning.
Emma woke to screams and shocked murmurs. The sounds weren't coming from the yard, but from inside the main corridor.
She swung her legs off the bunk, boots hitting the cold floor, and stepped into the hall. A small crowd of prisoners had gathered near the end, voices trembling with fear and curiosity.
There, sprawled unnaturally on the tiles, was a corpse. A woman, eyes wide in terror, chest pierced with a knife. Blood pooled around her like ink in water.
Emma's expression didn't change — calm, unreadable. But her mind already raced.
Valeria appeared behind her, leaning against the wall with that slow, confident smirk.
Valeria: "Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of life. Or death, in this case."
Emma's eyes narrowed. She took slow, deliberate steps toward the body. Her hand brushed over the knife wound from a distance — no hesitation, no squeamishness.
The guards arrived moments later, masks of concern hiding the fact that they had no clue what to do.
Guard: "You… can't—this is an active investigation. You can't—"
Emma (cutting him off): "Let me investigate. Alone."
The guard hesitated, clearly ready to refuse, but Valeria's voice rang out.
Valeria: "Back off. She handles this."
Even the guards knew better than to argue with her. Reluctantly, they stepped aside.
Valeria nodded at Emma.
Valeria: "You're not entirely alone, though. Thought you might need a partner."
From the shadows, a girl emerged — sharp-eyed, calculating, with a notepad tucked under her arm.
Valeria: "Meet Kaela. Smart as a whip. You two might make a good team."
Kaela gave a small, nervous smile.
Kaela: "I… I'll follow your lead."
Emma glanced at her, one eyebrow raised.
Emma (flatly): "Don't slow me down."
Kaela nodded vigorously. She wasn't used to being ordered around, but she could tell Emma wasn't bluffing.
Emma crouched near the body, analyzing the angle of the stab, the footprints, and the blood trail.
Her mind worked at a level no one else could touch — even Kaela, brilliant in her own right, could only keep up in fits and starts.
Emma (quietly, almost to herself):
"Clumsy… or scared. Not a professional. Someone wanted to send a message, not kill efficiently."
Kaela scribbled notes furiously, trying to keep pace.
Valeria leaned against the wall, watching Emma move like a ghost in a storm — silent, precise, unstoppable.
The investigation had begun.
Emma began checking the body neatly, eyes scanning every detail — the angle of the stab, the faint smear of blood along the tiles, the footprints. Nothing screamed "prisoner."
Kaela whispered, "The guards will think it's one of the inmates."
Emma shook her head, her fingers tracing the floor tiles, noting tiny details others would miss.
Emma: "No. Look at this."
She pointed to a faint scuff on the tiles leading toward the service exit — a section of the corridor prisoners rarely used.
Emma: "Footprints are different. Size, depth, and the tread… not ours. The killer didn't wear prison-issue boots."
Kaela's eyes widened.
Kaela: "So… it wasn't someone inside?"
Emma's expression remained unreadable.
Emma: "It could be staged. Someone who knows the prison layout, someone careful. The knife—cheap, disposable, no fingerprints. And look at the way the body's positioned — message, not murder for escape."
Valeria, leaning against the wall, finally asked:
Valeria: "So… you're saying it's outside?"
Emma nodded slightly.
Emma: "Yes. Someone got in, killed her, and left. They've got allies inside — maybe smuggled tools, information. But the actual hit? Outside."
Kaela scribbled frantically, overwhelmed.
Kaela: "But… how? Guards, cameras, checkpoints—"
Emma (cold, flat): "Every system has a flaw. Shift changes, blind spots, complacency. Someone just had to exploit it. And whoever did this… they're sending a warning."
Valeria smirked slightly, a rare flicker of admiration in her eyes.
Valeria: "Well, Emma… looks like you've got work to do."
Emma's gaze went back to the body, analyzing, calculating.
Emma (softly, almost to herself):
"Outside… and smart enough to cover their tracks. Whoever did this doesn't know yet… I'm already onto them."
Emma felt this body. Is supposed to be a message for her. But. Ignored her instincts.
Kaela hovered beside Emma, notebook ready, trying not to touch anything.
Emma's gloved fingers traced the blood-smeared floor, and then… she noticed something strange.
Words, scratched into the tiles with the knife's tip, partially hidden under the victim's arm:
"We're coming for you. Emma."
So it's true.
Emma froze for a heartbeat. Her eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.
She gets flashbacks. She knows exactly who did that.
Kaela stammered:
"What… what does it mean?"
Emma's gaze didn't leave the message. It wasn't just a threat. It was personal.
He had planned this, had enough reach and knowledge to send a warning straight to her.
Emma (quiet, deadly calm):
"They know I'm here. They're not just targeting anyone… they're targeting me."
Valeria leaned in from the doorway, smirk replaced with a rare, sharp seriousness.
Emma stood slowly, voice low, eyes cold steel.
Emma:
"What the fuck do you want now. Vencor."
Chapter End