Reborn in the Enemy's Embrace

"Officer Landon, do you suspect this is the scene of the first incident?" a colleague asked. Zion nodded.

Dexter stared pointedly at the door and then turned to start looking around.

The welfare home was large and had been abandoned for many years. Earlier, the police had searched it several times before but found nothing.

Dexter picked up a stick and began searching everywhere. I followed behind Zion anxiously as well.

Was I about to be discovered? Nobody could escape justice. If the police were diligent, they should be able to find the scene of the first incident.

Damien’s expression was also grim as he followed the police in silence.

"Damien..." Jack’s voice trembled, hesitating.

"Speak." Damien frowned. He shot Jack a warning look.

"The monitoring device in my garage..." he trailed off.

He continued, "I checked the computer yesterday and found a recording... from the night of the 15th..."

Not only did Jame’s voice tremble, but his legs too. He kept hesitating on whether he should speak. Upon seeing Damien, who called off his wedding and came to find Sophia, Jack suddenly panicked.

I could tell that Jack was truly scared. He feared the police investigation might lead to him.

"I’m sorry, Damien. I didn’t know, I really had no idea..." Jack handed the USB drive to Damien and retreated in a panic.

Damien’s expression darkened as he turned to look at Zion.

The police were still searching the welfare home, and everyone was tense. Even the police dogs were there.

"What happened on the night of the 15th?" Zion murmured and used the USB drive on the police computer.

"Damien... Damien, where are you guys? I’m feeling scared..."

"Damien... I’m afraid of the dark. Can you say something?"

"Damien, this time... if we catch the killer, can you let me go? Let me leave."

"Damien... How long do I have to keep repaying you? Can you give me a figure? I’ll pay you back in the future."

"Damien, say something, I’m begging you."

The recording was of me murmuring in the alley as I trembled in fear. I had begged Damien to say something so I would know that he was nearby and could feel a bit more at ease.

Damien’s face had visibly paled, and his breathing was shaky. Violette’s eyes were bloodshot as she stared at Damien with hatred.

"You’re such a bastard! You let Sophia go to Sunset Alley alone! You let her die, Damien!"

"I didn’t..." His arms lost strength. He looked as if he was about to explain himself.

I cried, then laughed. See Damien, isn’t it painful when you can’t explain?

"Damien, I want to leave, I’m so scared..."

In the recording, I told Damien I wanted to leave. However, just as I turned to leave, someone grabbed me and covered my mouth.

"Mm.... help... help..."

"Damien... help me..."

I struggled and cried for help, but my voice slowly faded. The noise in the recording gradually disappeared. Everyone’s nerves were on the edge, including mine.

Hearing this recording confirmed that I was murdered.

Damien’s fingers kept trembling. His eyes gradually turned red.

He turned back to look at Jack. His eyes were bloodshot.

"When did you find this recording? I’m fucking asking you, when did you find it?"

Jack was terrified. His legs felt weak. "Y–yesterday..." he stammered.

"You damn well tell the truth!" Damien rushed up to Jack and roared at him like a deranged beast.

Jack fell onto the floor in fright. His face was pale as he spoke with a trembling voice.

"The police... the police came to us that day and said that on the 15th, Sophia was also seen in Sunset Alley. I went back... went back to check the computer. I’m sorry, Damien, I was too scared." Jack was crying as he admitted that he was scared, so he hadn’t dared to hand it over to the police.

I looked at these people helplessly. These conspirators who murdered me. None of them were innocent.

"You bastard! If anything happens to Sophia, I’ll kill you!" Damien went crazy and punched Jack repeatedly in the face.

I sat there numbly, smiling at the sidelines. "Damien, what are you acting for?" I trailed off, wondering why he was pretending to be a good person.

"Damien, it was you who killed me. What expression will you make when you see my body?"

Damien was pulled away by the police. He pounded the wall uncontrollably.

"On the 15th... Was she stupid? I didn’t tell her to go. Why did she run off by herself?" he yelled. I looked up at Damien, got up, and slapped him. I knew that it wouldn’t reach him, but I still did it. "Didn’t you tell me to go? Juliet said you told me to leave!" I yelled, but Damien couldn’t hear me.

"Officer Landon! We found something over here!" yelled an officer. Zion ran over cautiously.

I stood in place, waiting for the moment my body would be discovered. Perhaps by then, I would be free.

I hurried over because the police found something.

My memories of my death were already unclear. Some memories became blurry after awakening from unconsciousness, only to fall back into it again.

All I knew was that I was drugged on an old street. When I awoke, I was in a dimly lit warehouse, where I was stuffed in a wooden makeshift transport crate.

The crate was filled with hay, which seemed to be used to transport porcelain or fragile items.

Zion discovered an iron gate covered by weeds in the southeast corner of the welfare home. The gate was rusty, but the grass on the ground had shown signs of frequent movement. Even the lock was newly replaced.

"We searched here last time, but the grass was too tall. We couldn’t have found it without careful observation," Zion’s colleague said in surprise.

As Zion glanced around, he noticed Dexter, who had sneaked into the yard at some point.

"When did he get over there?"

"Who knows? This man comes and goes like a shadow. I saw him jumping over in a swift move," the colleague said with exasperation.

He never knew that Dexter could be so agile as to jump over walls so easily.

Violette and I followed behind Zion, who pried open the lock and entered the yard. It was a courtyard within the abandoned welfare home, usually where the director or other high–ranking officials resided.

The yard was spacious and looked desolate after being abandoned.

I clung tightly to Violette, who was always braver than me. No matter what happened, she would always walk ahead of me.

"I... think they drugged me and brought me here."

I began to suspect reasonably that the serial killer was not acting alone. Dexter definitely had an accomplice. He was a murderer who was too good at disguising himself. His appearance and face had deceived everyone.

"He’s a murderer! He’s a murderer!" I screamed uncontrollably, running into the room. It was filled with many wooden crates used for logistics transport, resembling a small warehouse.

My breath became rapid as I looked around.

This was it. This was where I was locked up by that person when I woke up halfway through.

It was here that I saw Dexter’s face. He had been searching around the room anxiously, looking for something, and finally picked up an ax from the floor.

I frantically searched around and saw the same ax in the corner, with dried bloodstains still on it.

"Officer Landon, there’s an ax here."

Zion strode over and looked around before stating, "There are traces of dragging here, but this isn’t the primary crime scene."

"There are bandages and clothing debris here."

"There are a few strands of hair in this wooden crate."

The forensic doctor, Keenan Sparks, was also Violette’s senior. He inspected the scene meticulously, afraid of missing any traces.

On the wooden crate where I was previously held captive, he found several strands of hair entangled with the nails. Those were my hairs that got pulled out when I tried to escape.

I remember crawling out in a daze, wanting to escape. But the person wearing a hood had grabbed my hair and covered my mouth and nose. Then, I lost consciousness again.

When I woke up again, I was lying on a cold, operating table–like surface. Blood was being drained from my body, and the person was injecting some other liquid into me.

I couldn’t see the murderer’s face. I could only feel my blood slowly draining and my detaching in despair.

When I regained consciousness once again, I was... dead.

For some reason, when I woke, my soul was at the Coleman residence.

I, too, had no idea where the primary crime scene was.

"Officer Landon!" Damien called out from outside.

Zion walked out and saw him pointing to one corner with a pale face. A pair of blood–stained shoes and socks had been casually thrown there.

"These belong to... Sophia," Damien said with a trembling voice.

He had started calling me Sophia instead of Sofia with his usual detestable tone. I was so disgusted by how he said my nickname.

"Based on the current evidence..." Zion hesitated, looked at Violette, and continued, "I’m sorry. But based on our experience, it’s highly probable that Sophia... has been murdered."

Violette’s breathing became weak, her legs going wobbly, and she fainted.

Keenan quickly caught her and shouted, "Violette, Violette!"

I stood there bawling, not knowing how to comfort her.

My dear Violette, I had not been in pain. I’d just... experienced a despair I’d never felt before.

"Damien...."

On the side, Damien also seemed a bit unsteady, his figure shaking slightly.

I had no idea if he was acting, but I found his reaction hilarious.

"Impossible... She can’t be dead," he murmured continuously.

"Officer Landon! We found a major clue!"

Outside the courtyard, a female police officer ran over in a panic.

"All the known female victims we found were all adopted from this orphanage. They were either orphans or abandoned by their parents."