Chapter 5: Echoes in the Dark
The rain fell in a steady, rhythmic pattern against the windows of Evelyn’s apartment, tapping at the glass like a hundred little fingers reaching for her. The sound was constant, almost soothing, but in the depths of her mind, it only amplified the unease that had begun to consume her.
She hadn’t been able to sleep. Not properly. Every time she closed her eyes, the echoes of her past whispered at the edges of her consciousness. The visits to that old hospital. The mysterious “R.” The unsettling way the killer seemed to know things about her, things no one else could possibly understand.
The more she thought about it, the more the pieces of the puzzle seemed to refuse alignment. The truth was within reach, but every time she tried to grasp it, it slipped away, like sand through her fingers.
Her phone buzzed again, dragging her out of her spiraling thoughts. The message from Marcus was waiting.
“Found a lead. Patient ‘R’ was a woman, admitted in 1995. She was involved in an incident. The records are murky, but I’ll send you what I found.”
Evelyn didn’t hesitate. She reached for her laptop, firing it up with a sense of urgency. The information from Marcus would be crucial, but the gnawing feeling in her gut told her it wasn’t going to be enough. She needed to dig deeper. She needed to know everything.
As the files loaded on her screen, her eyes skimmed through the records. The name of the patient, Rebecca Hartley, popped out at her with stark clarity.
The file was sparse, filled with a few basic details and then a gap—an unsettling, incomplete silence where there should have been a full history. Rebecca Hartley had been admitted under mysterious circumstances, diagnosed with a range of disorders that didn’t quite make sense. The notes listed paranoia, delusions, and extreme emotional distress, but the real shock came when she read the final line:
“Last seen: May 15, 1997. Disappeared under strange circumstances.”
Her breath caught in her throat. May 15, 1997—the exact same date that appeared on the visitor’s log alongside her name. The same day she had visited. The same day everything began to unravel.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and for the first time since the investigation began, she felt a sense of real dread. She had been there on the day Rebecca Hartley vanished. But why?
Evelyn’s hands shook as she scrolled through the remaining files. There were no further details on Hartley’s disappearance, only cryptic references to a “patient involvement.” But what did that mean? Had she been involved in something more than just a visit?
Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was Marcus, sending her another file.
“Hartley’s records were sealed by the hospital. But I found this.”
She opened the new document. It was a set of cryptic notes, more like a journal entry than anything clinical. The handwriting was uneven, as if the person had written in a hurry.
“They are watching me. Evelyn is here. She is the key.”
Evelyn froze. Her pulse hammered in her ears. The entry was dated just a few weeks before Hartley disappeared. But who was “they”? And why was Rebecca Hartley writing about her?
She leaned back in her chair, a cold sweat forming on her brow. The killer was connected to this. That much was certain now. But how? And why was she being dragged into it?
Her phone rang, and Evelyn’s heart leapt in her chest. It was Marcus.
“Evelyn, you need to get over here. Now.”
She didn’t ask questions. She grabbed her jacket, her mind whirling as she moved quickly toward the door. She had no idea what Marcus had uncovered, but she knew it couldn’t wait. She needed answers. She needed to confront the truth before it consumed her.
The drive to the station felt longer than it should have, the night stretching out around her as if the world itself had slowed down. She could feel the weight of the rain pressing against the windshield, the droplets blurring her vision. The city’s skyline was a blur of neon lights and shadows, flickering in and out of focus as she navigated through the streets.
When she arrived at the station, Marcus was waiting for her outside. His face was pale, his eyes wide with urgency. Without a word, he led her inside.
“Evelyn, this is bigger than we thought,” he said, his voice strained. He handed her a folder, and she opened it quickly, her breath catching as she saw the contents.
It was a police report, one detailing a series of strange disappearances. The report mentioned several victims, all connected by the same peculiar pattern: they had all been linked to the same mental hospital where Rebecca Hartley had been treated.
The report went on to detail the killings, each one eerily similar to the methods the killer had used in the current case. The victims were all women, all with histories of trauma, and each one had been left in a place that held personal significance to the killer.
But there was more. A name appeared at the bottom of the report, a name that made Evelyn’s blood run cold.
Evelyn Price.
The final line of the report read:
“Victim #7—Evelyn Price. Targeted in connection with previous incidents. Pending investigation.”
Her world spun, and she nearly dropped the folder in disbelief.
“They know,” Marcus said, his voice low. “They’ve known from the beginning.”
The pieces had finally fallen into place, and the truth was staring her in the face. The killer wasn’t just playing a game. He had been hunting her all along.
“Why?” Evelyn whispered, her voice cracking as the weight of the realization hit her.
Marcus didn’t answer. He only looked at her with the same mixture of concern and fear that she felt in her own chest.
The killer had been watching her. And now, with the final piece of the puzzle in her hands, Evelyn knew she was the one he was after. The one he had been waiting for.
And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
