Rond and Ena(Third person point of view)

  As Rond and Ena arrived at the crime scene, they were met with the sight of devastation. The house was in ruins-walls bsted apart, remnants of smoke still lingered in the air, and rge chunks of debris scattered across the property. The roof had partially colpsed, leaving jagged beams exposed.

  Ena immediately hopped out of the car, her boots made a crunching noise against the gravel and debris. Rond followed, shutting the car door behind him with a quiet sigh. His daughter stood frozen for a moment, taking in the scene with an unreadable expression.

  She spoke softly, more to herself than anyone else. "That's Decn’s house, alright."

  Rond didn’t respond. Instead, he gently pced a hand on her shoulder before they continued walking toward the secured perimeter of the crime scene. Before they could proceed further, a uniformed officer stepped forward, blocking their path.

  "Excuse me, sir-and young dy-this is a restricted area. Civilians aren’t allowed beyond this point."

  Rond reached into his coat and pulled out his badge, flipping it open for the officer to see.

  The officer’s eyes flicked to the badge before looking up at Rond with recognition. "Investigator Rond?"

  "That’s me."

  The officer nodded and handed the badge back. "Apologies for stopping you, sir." His gaze shifted to Ena with curiosity. "But, if I may ask, why is-who I presume to be your daughter- a crime scene like this?"

  Rond sighed before answering. "She’s the best friend of the missing boy, Decn. When she found out about the situation, she insisted on coming. I assure you, she understands the rules and won’t interfere with the investigation."

  The officer hesitated but nodding in understanding. "Alright. Sergeant Jones is over there by the colpsed section of the house." He pointed toward the heart of the crime scene, where several forensic specialists were digging and combing through the debris.

  "Thank you," Rond replied before making his way toward the sergeant, Ena following closely behind.

  As they neared the forensic team, the full extent of the horror became clear.

  The body of Dr. Zoshant y covered in debris. The forensic team had carefully exposed sections of the corpse for analysis. His body was riddled with bullet wounds-fifteen, from what Rond could see. Shots to the head, chest, and other vital areas. His skin was torn in pces, likely from the bst. Shattered gss and wooden splinters were stuck in his flesh, making the scene even more gruesome. It wasn’t just murder-it was overkill.

  Rond instinctively turned, attempting to block Ena’s view, but he was too te.

  She had already seen.

  Ena's sharp eyes locked onto the corpse. Though her face remained calm, Rond noticed the subtle pause in her breathing. Her body stiffened for a fraction of a second before she quickly composed herself. When she met his gaze, there was no fear-just determination.

  Rond exhaled and gave her a small nod before stepping forward to meet Sergeant Jones, who was speaking with a forensic investigator near the ruined wall. As they approached, the sergeant finished giving instructions to the forensic tech before turning to Rond.

  Jones was a middle-aged man with a strong presence that could be noticeable. His sharp eyes quickly appraised Rond before shifting to Ena with a questioning look. He extended a hand.

  "Investigator Rond, I assume?"

  Rond shook his hand firmly. "Yes, sir. And you must be Sergeant Jones?"

  The sergeant nodded before gncing at Ena again. "Your daughter? At a crime scene like this?"

  Rond rubbed the back of his neck. "Well… she’s stubborn. But more importantly, she’s the missing boy’s best friend."

  Jones raised an eyebrow. "Wait-you mean she knows the missing kid personally?"

  Before Rond could respond, Ena stepped forward.

  "Yes, sir. Decn is my best friend," she said firmly. "And when I heard he was missing and his dad was murdered, I had to come. I need to know what happened."

  Sergeant Jones studied her for a moment before exhaling with a slight shake of his head. "Strong-willed kid, huh? I can rete. I’ve got one of those at home, too."

  Rond sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I’m gd you understand, sir."

  Jones let out a short chuckle before turning serious again. "Alright, Investigator. Let’s get to work."

  Sergeant Jone's expression turned serious.

  "I assume you want all the details we have so far?" he asked. Then, with a gesture towards the body, he added, "And from what I gather, you knew him personally?"

  Rond gave a solemn nod. "Yeah, I’d like to know everything you’ve found. And yes, I did know him."

  Jones sighed, his eyes briefly looking at Dr. Zoshant’s corpse. "I knew him too. Good man. This is a hell of a loss."

  He then began listing the forensic findings. "Besides the obvious structural damage-debris, shattered gss, and scorch marks-we determined that an explosion inside the house sent his body flying. That expins why he nded where he did. Now, here’s the disturbing part: he was shot fifteen times-head, chest, and multiple other vital areas. Someone wanted him dead. Badly."

  Rond clenched his fists. "I see..." he muttered.

  Jones continued. "We also have strong evidence suggesting that his son, Decn, was kidnapped."

  "What?"

  This time, the voice wasn’t Rond’s-it was Ena’s.

  Jones continued. "We initially considered the possibility that Decn was the perpetrator-after all, whoever carried out this attack covered their tracks extremely well. No obvious footprints, no usable fingerprints, no immediate forced entry signs. At first gnce, it almost looked like an inside job."

  Ena scoffed, a expression of anger appeared on her face. "That’s ridiculous! Decn would never hurt his father. You don’t know him like I do. He was close to his dad-just st week, he asked me to help him pick out a gift for him."

  Jones smiled slightly, as if he's gd someone said the fact. "You’re not the only one who thought that theory was nonsense. It was immediately disproven when we discovered something... unusual. Strange you could say." His expression had changed to a contemptive look.

  Rond frowned. "What did you find?"

  "All surveilnce cameras within a one-mile radius-street cameras, home security systems, dash cams-every single one was corrupted at the same exact time."

  Rond’s eyes widened. "What?"

  Jones nodded. "The forensics team checked timestamps and matched them with Dr. Zoshant’s post-mortem interval. Based on gut content analysis, body temperature, and rigor mortis progression, we estimate he died within a specific timeframe. That’s the exact timeframe when every single camera feed in the area was wiped or scrambled."

  Rond ran a hand down his face, trying to process the implications. "Who the hell has the capability to pull off something like that?"

  Jones shook his head. "No idea. But one thing is clear-the perpetrator was careful and skilled. Extremely careful. So far, we have no solid leads outside this house." His voice turned grim. "Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing... and they left almost nothing behind."

  "I see....then Ill go and survey this house. There may be clues that we havent seen yet. Its too early still."

  Jones nodded. "Go right on ahead, be my guest."

  And thus Rond and Ena surveyed the area for clues.

  Enas insight(first person point of view)

  I kneeled near the ruined floor, my fingers lightly tracing over the disturbed patterns in the dust. The others might have missed it, but I didn’t. The drag marks-so faint, so carefully hidden beneath the destruction-told me a story that I need to know.

  Decn hadn’t left willingly. He fought, hard.

  My breath slowed, my hazel eyes darkening as I focused. The slight scuff of a shoe against wood, the uneven weight distribution in the prints-he had definitely fought.

  I could see it in my mind, as if I had been there.

  Decn struggling, his nails scraping against the broken floorboards. His breath uneven, gasping, choked. A hand had cmped over his mouth, muffling his protests. The scent of sweat, gunpowder, and something bitter-chloroform perhaps?-filled the air. He kicked, trying to break free, but there were two of them. No-three. One held his arms, another wrapped something around his throat just tight enough to make him weak. The third? Watching. Waiting.

  I curled my fingers into my palm, nails pressing into my skin hard enough to sting.

  They had dragged him through here. And he was still alive when they took him.

  My head tilted as I let the pieces of the puzzle align in my mind. I knew Decn better than anyone. I knew how he walked, how he breathed, how he reacted to fear. Even without being here when it happened, I knew.

  And I was going to find him.

  But before I could rise, something caught my eye. A glint beneath the debris-small, but distinct. I reached out and lifted it between my fingers. Observing it.

  A stone. Dark, polished, and very smooth, with an unique insignia carved into its surface-a symbol of infinity, seamlessly interwoven with the design of a star and a circle?

  Not an accident. Not a coincidence.

  A mark.

  A brand.

  I turned my head slightly toward my father, who was still speaking with the forensic team. Quietly, I slipped the stone into my pocket. I am going to tell him when he's done.

  I stood in the ruined living room, staring at the lifeless body of Dr. Zoshant. He should have still been here, ughing in that quiet way of his, talking about something funny, nerdy or anything in general that would make Decn always rolled his eyes at but secretly loved. He should have been alive. But he wasn’t. As I saw my father others go outiside, I too was about to follow them. But something stopped me as I felt something. A deep chill in my bones, a terror that made my own skin crawl. I felt my eyes instinctively look to where Dr.Zoshants corpse ys again. Then, from the corner of my vision-

  Movement. But that was not possible, everyone had left the house already besides me.

  A shadow. A presence near the dead body. I felt myself freeze up.

  I couldn't move nor breath, yet my heart was beating rapidly as if trying to contempte whats going on.

  She was standing there.

  A silhouette-nothing more than an outline, shrouded in the suffocating darkness of the ruined home. But her eyes.

  Amber. Glowing.

  They were not human. Not in this darkness, not with how they burned with something beyond rage, beyond hatred, beyond even the darkest dreams, beyond whats even possible. Her gaze bore into the dead man’s body as if the very sight of his death was an insult, as if she would tear apart the world itself to undo what had been done.

  The darkness around her felt wrong. Not the normal kind of shadows that stretched from broken furniture and colpsed walls-no, this was deeper. The kind of bckness that crawled, that watched. The more I looked, the more I got the sense that I am seeing something terrifying. Dread

  Her twin-tailed silhouette didn’t shift, didn’t twitch, not even a hint of breathing. She stood utterly, terrifyingly still.

  I tried to focus, tried to see more. Her face, her hands-anything. But I couldn’t.

  The only thing I could see were those amber eyes, burning with pure malice.

  A hatred so strong, so vile, that it sent ice through my veins.

  I finally felt myself blink. And the next moment? She wasnt there, like a ghost, as if everything I had seen has been a dream.

  The woman was gone. The corpse was still there. And yet, I still could feel the hatred behind those eyes so deep that I couldn't comprehend it.

  I could feel her.

  That hatred-so deep, so raw-it lingered. Crawling beneath my skin, whispering at the edges of my mind.

  I finally willed myself to move, stepping back toward the exit. My eyes never left the spot where she had stood. Not once.

  And then-I ran.

  Straight to my father.

  Was I dreaming? No.

  I felt that hatred. I still felt it.

  It wasn’t a dream.

  Was I going insane? Losing my mind?

  I didn’t know.

  But what I did know…

  I never want to anger that being any further.

  Because if I did—

  She would have dark pns for all of us.