The night air was bitterly cold. A restless wind moved through the empty street, pushing dry leaves and loose papers across the pavement. Above, a broken streetlight flickered weakly, its pale glow blinking on and off as if struggling to stay alive. The city had already fallen asleep. Windows were dark. Shops were closed. Even the usual noise of traffic had faded into the distance, leaving behind a strange, heavy silence.
Then...
Footsteps...
Fast...
Uneven...
Someone was running...
Rhea burst out of a narrow alley, stumbling forward as her breath tore painfully through her lungs. Each inhale burned like shards of glass scraping through her chest. Her coat was soaked with blood. Dark stains had spread across the fabric, thick and sticky.
Some of it was hers...
Some of it was not!
Her trembling hand pressed hard against the wound on her side, trying desperately to slow the warm blood slipping through her fingers. But every step made it worse.
Behind her...
A sound...
Footsteps...
Slow...
Steady...
Following...
Not rushing....
Not panicking...
Just walking...
The calmness of those footsteps terrified her more than anything else.
Rhea didn't dare look back.
If she turned around...
She might see him...
And if she saw him…
She might stop running!
So she forced herself forward, half-running, half-staggering toward the faint glow of the main road ahead. Her vision blurred as sweat mixed with tears and blood on her face.
Keep moving.
Don't stop.
Not now.
Because if she stopped, everything would end here.
The alley finally opened onto a deserted street. Yellow streetlights stretched far into the distance like lonely guards watching over an abandoned city. Occasionally, a car passed somewhere far away, its headlights briefly cutting through the darkness before vanishing again. Across the road stood an old rusty garage. The building looked forgotten. A crooked metal board hung above its entrance, the faded paint almost completely gone. Rust had eaten through parts of the metal shutter, and the cracked windows were covered in dust.
But inside, there was light. A weak fluorescent bulb flickered faintly through the glass. Rhea saw it and pushed herself forward. Her legs nearly collapsed as she crossed the road. She grabbed the rusted metal pillar at the garage entrance to keep herself from falling. For a moment, she simply stood there, gasping for air.
Inside the garage, a dirty mirror leaned against the wall. Her reflection stared back at her. She barely recognized herself. Her hair was tangled. Blood was smeared across her cheek. Her face was pale. Her eyes were wide with raw terror. Her breathing shook uncontrollably. With trembling hands she pushed open the creaking metal door.
The garage smelled of rust, oil, and dust. Old tools lay scattered across a wooden table. Broken shelves lined the wall. A single fluorescent tube hung above, flickering weakly and casting unstable shadows across the cracked concrete floor.
Rhea staggered inside and leaned against the wall. Her hand slipped into her pocket. Her phone. The screen was dark. Dead.
"No…" she whispered.
Her fingers trembled as she pressed the power button again. Nothing. Again. For a long moment, the phone remained lifeless. Then...the screen flickered faintly.
A weak glow appeared. The battery icon blinked red. Barely alive. Rhea almost collapsed with relief. Her hands shook as she unlocked the phone. The screen lagged and flickered as if it might die again any second. She scrolled through her contacts. Each movement felt painfully slow. The phone froze once. Then resumed.
Finally...
She found the name she needed. Her finger tapped the call button. The phone rang.
Once...
Twice...
Three times...
Each second stretched endlessly.
Then, A click.
"Hello…?"
The voice on the other end sounded weak, quiet, yet calm.
For a moment, Rhea couldn't speak.
The instant she heard that voice, the fragile control she had been holding onto shattered completely.
"Li… listen—"
Her voice broke immediately. A sob escaped her throat before she could stop it. On the other end of the call, the person straightened slightly in bed, gripping the phone with sudden concern.
"Rhea?" he said, his voice faint but alert.
"Where are you?"
She tried to answer. But the words dissolved into broken breaths.
"I— I—"
Her voice collapsed into uncontrollable crying. Blood dripped slowly from her sleeve onto the dusty floor of the garage. On the phone, the voice grew more urgent.
"Rhea… listen to me." He could hear the panic. "Try to breathe. Slowly."
She tried. But another sob forced its way out.
"I know—" she cried. "I know who it is…" Silence filled the line.
"What?" the voice whispered.
Her hands trembled violently around the malfunctioning phone.
"H… Hunter…"
"I know who the Hunter is."
The words fell into the quiet like a storm.
On the other end, the person tried to sit up despite the weakness in his body.
"What are you saying?" he asked carefully.
"Tell me what happened."
Rhea shook her head even though he couldn't see her.
"I found it… I saw the evidence… everything makes sense now…"
Her breathing trembled.
"He fooled all of us… he fooled me… he fooled you… he fooled Evan… he fooled everyone…"
Her voice cracked again. "Everything… it was planned."
A long silence followed. Then the weak voice spoke again. "Who is it?"
But Rhea couldn't say the name. The realization still echoed violently inside her mind. The files. The pattern. The missing document. The name that had appeared again and again. Her hands shook so badly the phone rattled against her ear. The voice spoke again, more carefully this time.
"Where are you right now?"
"In… an old garage," she whispered.
"I don't know where… I tried to escape…" Her voice sounded fragile.
"I think he's still…" She stopped. Her eyes slowly moved toward the garage window. The empty street stretched into darkness. No movement. No one there. And yet the fear inside her refused to disappear.
On the phone, the weak voice spoke again. "Listen to me." Even through exhaustion, the tone carried calm determination. "Stay there. Don't move."
Rhea wiped her face with her sleeve, smearing more blood across her skin. "I can't stay… I'm coming to you…" Her voice trembled.
The person on the phone waited. "And the Hunter?" he asked quietly.
Her lips trembled. She forced herself to speak. "It's—"
Suddenly...
Blinding headlights flooded the garage through the cracked windows. Rhea instinctively turned. A car was speeding down the empty street.
Too fast...
Much too fast...
Her eyes widened in horror...
The vehicle didn't slow...
Didn't turn...
It drove straight toward the garage...
The last thing the person on the phone heard was Rhea's sharp gasp.
Then...
CRASH !!!!!
Metal screamed, glass exploded into thousands of fragments. the violent impact echoed through the receiver.
"Rhea—?!" the weak voice shouted desperately into the phone.
But the call had already died. Only silence remained...