"I'm so tired," Ethan Cross murmured, fingers dragging across the keyboard as he typed up the report from his last arrest. "Desk work's always so damn boring," he muttered, "but necessary."
Across the desk, his partner John chuckled. "You could stop writing and go home," he said with a smirk, "but the Captain would probably send you to an early grave."
Ethan looked up from behind the screen. "He certainly would." he remarked, grinning slightly. "This would be my 15th time this week, after all." Ethan rubbed his eyes as he relaxed in his chair. "better not risk it."
John looked up from behind his monitor. "Hey, did you hear about that psycho girlfriend of yours? Patrol spotted her earlier."
Ethan shot him a look. "She's not my girlfriend. She's just some obsessed psycho who thinks I'd ever fall for her." He pointed a finger at John. "And if you ever joke about that again, I swear I'm never paying for your drink."
John raised his hands in mock surrender. "That's too far, man. And here I thought we were brothers."
Both of them broke into laughter, the tension fading back into the hum of the office.
***
The precinct doors swung open as Ethan and John stepped out into the street. "Finally," Ethan said with a grin. "That hellish pile of work is done."
"Care for a drink, partner?" John asked, stretching his arms.
Ethan shook his head. "I shouldn't. My sister's birthday is coming up and I still haven't found present. Sorry."
"I forgot it was June already" John muttered, whit hint of annoyance slipping through. "Next time?"
Ethan chuckled and gave him a friendly pat on the back. "Of course and Don't worry, I'll buy first round."
"I'll hold you on to that," John called as he waved his hand and headed down the street.
Ethan turned and started walking to shopping area. The city lights flickered on as last light disappeared in to night as he walking past alley He saw a white raven on top of nearby fence. He was frozen in place. It was unusual, almost unearthly. He reached slowly for his phone. soon as he moved the bird spread its wings and faded into the night. "Goddammit." Ethan whispered "Once in a lifetime, and I have no proof that I ever saw it at all."
Ethan slipped his phone back into his pocket and kept walking. The night air was cool, filled with the smell of street food and the low murmur of the city settling in. He glanced at a few shop windows, half-thinking about gifts, half-just enjoying not being behind a desk.
His phone buzzed. He checked the screen it was Captain Raines. Ethan sighed. "Of course" he muttered, answering.
"Cross, drop whatever you're doing. We've got a situation on 7th and Willow. Patrol found three bodies and your favorite stalker might be involved."
Ethan stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "You've gotta be kidding me."
"Wish I was. Get down there now." The line clicked dead.
Ethan exhaled sharply, staring up at the dark sky where the raven had flown. "Great. She's not even my girlfriend, and somehow she's still ruining my night."
He adjusted his jacket, turned toward the flashing blue lights already visible in the distance, and started walking.
***
Ethan ducked under the yellow tape and made his way toward the crime scene. The air was heavy with the metallic scent of blood, faint even through the cool night breeze. Captain Raines stood near the alley entrance with Ethan's ex girlfriend Sara and a couple of uniformed officers taking notes.
"So," Ethan began dryly, "what did my so called homicidal girlfriend do this fine evening?"
"Be professional, Cross," Captain Raines snapped, then started pointing toward the wall.
Ethan followed his gesture and froze. His stomach tightened.The victims' guts had been arranged into the shape of a heart. Inside it, smeared in blood, read the words:'I missed you, my love.'Signed underneath: Yuki Gin.
Ethan rubbed his face, muttering under his breath. "Christ… she's really losing it."
Sara turned toward him, expression tense but calm. "Yuki Gin's file just keeps getting thicker. How long's it been since her last crime scene?"
Ethan's jaw tightened. He looked towards Sara then Raines, then back at the wall. "A couple of months. I was hoping she'd finally left and gone back to Japan."
Raines flipped through his notes. "According to witnesses, they saw a pale Asian woman with silver hair and a black outfit dragging the victims into the alley. Then a few screams… then silence."
Ethan exhaled through his nose. "That fits her profile."
Sara crouched near the bodies, snapping photos and bagging a bloodied knife fragment. "No confirmed IDs yet," she said. "But from their tattoos, looks like they were small-time enforcers. Our best guess? Someone hired Yuki to take out rival muscle but she decided to send you a message while she was at it."
Ethan crouched beside her, eyes on the wall. "Yeah," he murmured. "Her messages always come with a body count."
Ethan stepped closer to the wall, careful not to disturb the evidence markers. The ground was slick with rain and blood Yuki's trademark precision still unmistakable beneath the chaos.
"She always stages the scene," Ethan said, eyes narrowing. "Never a random mess. She wants attention control. Look at the spacing. Three victims, same height range, positioned equidistant before she gutted them."
Sara glanced up from her kit. "You sound like you've been studying her too much."
Ethan gave a humorless smirk. "When a psychopath tries to carve your name into her victims, you pick up a few patterns."
Sara zipped a sample bag, rising to meet his gaze. "You mean when she stalks you for six months, breaks into your apartment, and leaves origami hearts on your bed."
Ethan groaned. "Don't remind me. I'm still finding those damn things behind furniture."
Raines turned toward them, half-exasperated. "Focus, both of you. What's your take, Cross?"
Ethan crouched beside one of the bodies, inspecting the wounds. "Clean incisions, deep and consistent short-blade combat knife, probably her usual tanto. Entry angles are low, meaning she struck while crouching. Victims were likely disarmed first. No defensive wounds on the first two, third tried to run." He pointed toward the trail of smeared blood leading to the alley mouth.
Sara nodded, jotting notes. "So she planned it, executed fast, and made a statement. Classic Yuki Gin."
Ethan stood, scanning the rooftops above. "She's escalating again. The message isn't just for me it's to show she's untouchable."
Sara sighed, crossing her arms. "Or she's bored. Psychopaths like her get restless when no one pays attention."
Ethan smirked faintly. "Then maybe next time, I'll send her a thank-you card and a restraining order."
Sara snorted despite herself. "Yeah, real smooth, Cross. That'll fix it."
Raines shot them both a look. "Save the comedy routine. Forensics will finish up. Cross write me a report by morning. And keep your personal history with this maniac out of the paperwork."
Ethan nodded. "Understood."
As the Captain walked off, Sara glanced at Ethan. "You know she's not going to stop, right?"
Ethan looked back at the blood-written heart. "Yeah," he said quietly. "That's what worries me."
***
Ethan stepped back from the wall, rubbing the bridge of his nose as the forensics team continued their work. The flashing lights, the murmured radio chatter, the smell of rain on concrete it all blended into a dull haze.
"I'll get the report done," he said to Sara before turning to leave.
"Try not to let her get inside your head," Sara called after him.
Ethan didn't answer. He just walked under the tape, letting it fall shut behind him. The alley felt colder once he was out of it, the gruesome scene replaced by the ordinary buzz of the city. Cars passed. A couple hurried across the street. Someone laughed outside a café. Life kept moving.
He exhaled slowly.Emma's birthday.He still needed a present.
He started down the sidewalk, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. The night wind cleared his head just enough. He replayed his sister's last message:"Don't forget the cake."
He smiled at the thought, tension easing from his shoulders. Then a memory surfaced Emma rambling at dinner last month about some whiskey she'd wanted to try. "What was the name again?"
He stopped at a streetlight, thinking.Then it clicked.
"Brutta Giornata," he muttered."Terrible name for a whiskey, but Emma had insisted it tasted like a warm punch to the soul. Whatever that meant."
Ethan checked the time. The nearby alcohol store was still open for couple hours."Good," he said to himself, starting toward it. "At least I can get one normal thing done tonight."
He walked off toward the store leaving behind the crime scene, and the message from a woman he wished he'd never met.
As Ethan walked, his thoughts returned to Yuki Gin. He could not understand her obsession with him. There was no shared history, no meaningful interaction that could justify it. Nothing he could recall explained her fixation.
As he reached the corner and turned onto the next street, he noticed the white raven again, perched atop a tree. Ethan allowed himself a faint smile.
"At least I have a calmer stalker," he muttered.
The raven watched him intently, studying him with the same quiet focus Ethan now gave it. He spoke again, softly, careful not to startle it.
"You're not afraid of me anymore."
The bird remained still for a moment, then spread its wings and took flight. Ethan followed its path with his eyes. The raven flew toward the liquor store he had been heading to all along.
"Great minds think alike," Ethan said, letting out a brief laugh. Apparently, the bird had the same destination.
He crossed the street and entered the store.
"Good evening," he said.
The shop owner rose from behind the counter. "Good evening, sir. Can I help you find something?"
Ethan glanced around before answering. "Do you happen to have Brutta Giornata in stock?"
The owner paused for a moment, then nodded with a friendly expression. "Yes, we do. Excellent choice. Please wait a moment."
Ethan stepped closer to the register. The owner returned quickly, placing a bottle of Brutta Giornata on the counter.
"That will be sixty-eight euros and fifty cents, sir."
Ethan raised an eyebrow at the price. "Expensive," he said calmly, then added, "but worth it."
***
Ethan walked up his sister's driveway, walking toward the door. As Ethan closed the distance to the door, he started to walk slowly and carefully. He reached his right hand to the handle and pushed it down slowly. The door opened with a small creak as he entered.
Ethan closed the door quietly, removed his shoes, and put them right next to the door. Ethan rose up from the ground and walked slowly, whiskey bottle in hand. Ethan listened to the TV sound and started to walk toward the living room. As he was one turn away, he jumped out and yelled, "SURPRISE."
The room went silent. Guns were pulled and pointed toward Ethan.
Ethan looked at the room. Three men and two women, well-dressed enforcers, were around Emma. One man held a gun execution-style to Emma's head.
"GET DOWN," one of them yelled.
Ethan was too shocked to even hear it. Then two men rushed him and forced him to the ground and searched him.
"He is a cop," another man yelled, and handed Ethan's badge and gun to the man who had held the gun on Emma's head. He holstered his gun and sat on the couch. The others were silent as well.
Ethan looked at Emma, who was crying.
"Emma, what is this?" Ethan asked.
"I don't know," Emma said. The words came out tired and scared.
The enforcer who was sitting on the couch suddenly rose up.
"Okay, Ethan Cross, you have been a little too keen on our business, and I can't allow that."
Ethan turned his head toward the man. "Who the fuck are you?" Ethan yelled.
"I'm Hans Müller, and I'm here to teach you not to interfere with our business."
Ethan looked at Emma, then at the two women behind her, and tried to shake the guys off him. He then looked at Hans Müller. He was a tall man and had a scar on the right side of his face.
"Let this be a lesson to you," Hans yelled as he pulled out his Colt 1911 and pressed it against Emma's head.
"Nooooooooooo," Ethan yelled, tears on his face.
BANG
The sound echoed through the house. Then silence.Only the soft thud of Emma's body hitting the floor followed.
Blood spread slowly beneath her, dark and reflective against the light from the TV.Ethan froze, breath caught in his chest. His mind refused to process what just happened.His hand trembled.
"Emma…" he whispered.
No answer. Only the faint hum of the television and the slow, rhythmic drip of blood hitting the wooden floor.
He crawled forward, trying to reach her, but the men pinned him down again. His palms slid through blood; the warmth of it snapped him back into reality.
"Emma! Please!" he shouted, voice breaking. "You didn't have to—"
Hans Müller exhaled sharply, unfazed. He knelt down and wiped the blood off his gun with a handkerchief, movements calm, rehearsed.
"Your fault," Hans said quietly. "You shouldn't have come here."
Ethan didn't hear him. He stared at his sister's lifeless eyes, her body still twitching faintly as the last of her life left her. The sight burned into his mind.
One of the enforcers looked away; even he couldn't watch. Hans, however, seemed completely detached.
"Lift him up," Hans ordered.
The two men obeyed. Ethan was dragged upward, half-conscious, his face streaked with blood and tears. His knees barely held.
"Look at me," Hans said.
Ethan didn't respond. His breathing came in short, shallow bursts.
"Look at me," Hans repeated, voice colder.
Still nothing.
"LOOK AT ME!"
Ethan's head snapped up. His eyes were empty.
Hans studied him for a moment, then leaned in close enough for Ethan to feel his breath."You're the lucky one here," he said softly.
Then Hans struck him across the face hard. Ethan's body went limp.
As he collapsed, the last thing he saw was Emma's body lying in front of him, motionless, and the faint reflection of the white raven outside the window, watching from the dark.
Everything went black.