Lucien Blackwood wasn't unaware of what was happening behind him.
If anything—this was exactly what he had been waiting for.
The silence. The presence. The subtle shift in the air that most people would never notice until it was too late.
His breathing remained slow and steady, controlled to the point of precision. The energy within him moved naturally, circulating through his body like a quiet current, pushing back against the cold, invasive pressure creeping into the room.
On the surface, he looked calm.
But beneath that calm—he was ready.
The moment she showed herself, he would respond.
No hesitation.
No mistakes.
Then—
"Stop right there, kid!"
The sharp, human voice shattered everything.
Sound rushed back all at once.
The rain outside, the distant rumble of thunder, the faint hum of the city—everything that had vanished moments ago returned in a chaotic wave.
Jamie gasped, stumbling slightly as he sucked in air like a drowning man pulled back to the surface.
Lucien frowned.
Not in fear.
In annoyance.
Slowly, he turned.
A man stood in the doorway.
Hat. Coat. Beard. The kind of presence that screamed authority even before he spoke.
A detective.
"…You've got to be kidding me," Lucien muttered under his breath.
"Trying to destroy evidence?" the detective said, stepping inside with a hard gaze. "This is an active crime scene."
His eyes locked onto the doll in Lucien's hand.
So that's what this is about.
Lucien exhaled quietly.
Unfortunate timing.
The presence from before had already vanished. Whatever had been watching them had retreated the moment the silence broke.
Mary Shaw wasn't reckless.
She wouldn't show herself again so easily.
Not now.
The detective's suspicion only grew when neither Lucien nor Jamie spoke immediately.
From his perspective, the situation was simple.
A murdered woman. A suspicious husband. And now—an unknown outsider handling key evidence.
His conclusion came naturally.
Jamie killed his wife.
And Lucien?
An accomplice.
Lucien could practically read it in his eyes.
Materialist.
Skeptic.
The kind of man who needed to see a corpse walk before he'd believe in ghosts.
Those types didn't last long in places like this.
"Listen carefully," the detective said, pulling out his badge. "You're coming with me. Both of you."
Lucien didn't even glance at it.
Instead, he stepped forward—walking straight past him.
That was enough.
The detective's patience snapped.
He moved quickly, blocking Lucien's path.
"Hey! I said stop!"
Lucien looked at him then. Calm. Unbothered.
"Are you done?" he asked flatly.
That tone only made things worse.
"I don't care who you are," the detective said, voice tightening. "You think you can just walk into a crime scene and mess with evidence? I can take you in right now."
Lucien let out a small, almost amused breath.
"I have an alibi," he said. "Do you?"
The detective blinked, caught off guard.
Lucien continued, voice even.
"You're trying to intimidate me. It's not working."
A pause.
"I've seen better."
The words landed harder than expected.
For a moment, the detective didn't respond.
He had assumed Lucien was just another foreigner—someone easy to pressure, easy to control.
That assumption collapsed instantly.
"Fine," the detective said after a beat, recovering. "You still trespassed. And you were about to destroy evidence."
That part… wasn't wrong.
Jamie stepped in quickly, panic creeping into his voice.
"Wait—he's not involved! None of this is what it looks like. If you just—listen—"
And then he did something bold.
Something desperate.
He told him everything.
The doll.
The nursery rhyme.
The silence.
Mary Shaw.
The detective listened.
And didn't believe a word.
Of course he didn't.
But something in Jamie's urgency, in the way he spoke—not like a liar, but like someone trying to survive—made him hesitate.
Not belief.
Curiosity.
And maybe… a chance to catch them in a lie.
"If you're so sure," the detective said slowly, "then I'll come with you."
Jamie looked relieved.
Lucien didn't.
Instead, he spoke quietly.
"If you want to stay alive," he said, "you should walk away now."
The detective stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"I've dealt with people like you before," he said. "Tricks. Scams. Fear tactics."
A faint smirk touched his lips.
"I'll expose whatever game you're playing."
Lucien held his gaze for a moment.
Then smiled.
Not mockingly.
Not angrily.
Just… knowingly.
"Good luck with that."
—
They left the apartment together.
The rain hadn't stopped.
By the time they reached the highway, the city lights were already fading behind them.
The further they drove, the quieter it became.
Civilization gave way to emptiness.
And eventually—
The town appeared.
Ravensfield.
Lucien looked up from the book resting in his lap, his attention shifting to the outside world.
Dark clouds pressed low against the sky, swallowing what little sunlight remained. The bridge ahead stretched like a dividing line—one side familiar, the other… something else entirely.
As they crossed it, the atmosphere changed.
Subtly.
But unmistakably.
Jamie slowed the car.
"…This isn't right," he murmured.
The town was wrong.
Houses stood empty. Shops abandoned. Streets covered in damp leaves that no one had bothered to clear.
No movement.
No life.
Just silence.
Even the detective shifted slightly in his seat, his confidence dented—not broken, but shaken.
"…What the hell happened here?"
Jamie stared ahead, disbelief written all over his face.
"This isn't how it used to be."
Lucien said nothing.
He already knew.
Places like this didn't decay overnight.
They rotted.
Slowly.
Quietly.
From the inside out.
"I need to go home," Jamie said suddenly. "My father… he might know something."
There was hesitation in his voice.
Something personal.
Something unresolved.
Lucien noticed—but didn't comment.
The detective nodded. "I'm coming with you."
Of course he was.
Prime suspect.
No way he'd let him out of sight.
Jamie turned to Lucien.
"You coming?"
Lucien shook his head.
"No."
Jamie blinked.
"What? Why not?"
Lucien stepped out of the car, the cold air brushing against his face as he looked toward the empty streets.
"I'll look around town," he said. "There are things here you won't find in a house."
That wasn't entirely reassuring.
"If something happens—"
"Then stay alive," Lucien said simply.
A pause.
Then, more practically—
"Meet me at a motel on the outskirts tonight."
Jamie hesitated.
But in the end—
He nodded.
Because whether he understood it or not…
Lucien Blackwood wasn't someone you questioned twice.
And as Lucien walked away into the quiet, abandoned town—
It became very clear.
The real investigation…
Had just begun.