Chapter 3 - CHAPTER 3: ECHOES IN THE WATER

The city's canals twisted through darkness, slick ribbons of black water reflecting broken neon. Miki gripped her flashlight, sweat tracing the line of her spine beneath layers of rain-soaked fabric. Every sound was magnified—a distant dog's howl, boots crunching over shattered glass, the pulse of her own heart echoing through the storm.They'd followed the clue—"Bring your own blood"—to the murky water out past the chemical plant, where shadows clung to corroded pipes and the stench of old secrets lingered. Kenji moved just behind her, pistol drawn, jaw clenched so tight it trembled.A red yarn-wrapped finger bobbed on the surface, a grotesque buoy. Miki waded in, boots sinking into silt, and retrieved it. On the nail, more letters: "Borrow, and bleed." Her thoughts raced—was the message for a victim, or a warning for them?Sudden footsteps splashed nearby. Kenji spun, light skittering over crumbling wharfs. A figure darted from beneath a bridge—small, fast, face lost in shadow—a kid, or a lure? Miki tracked the movements, nerves raw. "Don't run!" she called. The figure hesitated, then vanished down a tunnel. They gave chase.Inside was pure gloom. Graffiti—red hands and bleeding eyes—covered the damp walls. Miki's breath caught as she recognized symbols matching the killer's calling card. Blood smeared fresh over yesterday's paint. Kenji blinked. "He was here. Tonight."The air was heavy—rank with rot and something sweet, like perfume masking a corpse. Miki crept forward. At the tunnel's end, she found an old mirror. Her reflection fractured in the glass—her own wild eyes glaring back, sliced by lines of blood splatter.At her feet lay another grisly trophy: a severed tongue, pierced with a note. "Next time, listen." Miki recoiled, hands shaking. Whoever hunted them was always ahead, setting traps, playing with their dread.Kenji swore. "He's close—the kid was a decoy."A dull thump echoed above; water dripped in irregular beats. Miki strained to listen, senses stretched thin. Was the killer waiting, watching them fumble through his museum of broken bodies? Was he the judge—or just another monster feeding on fear?She wanted to turn back. But the haunting scent, the cryptic clues, the memory of her own childhood terrors kept her moving. It felt as if every step was choreographed, every discovery bait for a darker snare.Kenji shivered, eyes darting. "Maybe this is all a message. He knows us—knows you."Miki stared into the mirror, remembering rain and locked basements, and the way violence can echo for years.Somewhere above, another shriek fractured the night. Miki bolted from the tunnel, adrenaline burning, Kenji at her heels. She didn't know yet who screamed or what new horror awaited. Only that the city was awake—that the killer was watching—and that the nightmare was far from over.