Claire’s house...yellow tape covering the entrance after weeks.

  I silently leave the car, even if the streets are empty. I close the door gently, locking it. I confidently walk to the doorstep and immediately start lockpicking, looking left and right occasionally. I can’t be seen here, or it’s all over.

  Finally, the lock clicks. I get in, going past the yellow tape, being careful not to tear it.

  I step inside. The damp, bloody air makes me immediately remember the day I saw her corpse lying on the ground.

  I reach the crime scene, the very living room where we talked that night before I left. I see the silhouette of her on the carpet. She’s not here anymore...she wasn’t even buried, probably.

  I carefully check the living room’s surroundings. Everything is in its place, the table is fixed, the chairs at the end of the room in place...the only proof that a horrifying murder happened is right beneath my feet, a dried up pool of blood.

  Claire was assaulted and killed right here. She wasn’t moved.

  I suddenly groan and sit on the same chair I was sitting on when we talked. I rub my face, trying to suppress the frustration.

  I’m an idiot.

  Why did I even come here?

  The place has been swiped clean by forensics, of course. I’m grasping at straws...for a case that isn't mine.

  I checked her entire house, and now I’m heading to the last place I have left...her bedroom.

  It’s neat and tidy. I feel bad for what I’m about to do.

  I search every corner of the room, just like all the others. I open all drawers and check under every single nook and cranny I can find.

  After some time, I find a bunch of documents stashed into a drawer of a cabinet. It’s paperwork about the house, her job, contracts...the stuff we all have inside our houses. After some skimming, though, I finally find something useful. Her medical documents.

  A specific batch is what catches my eye, her prescriptions. They were all signed by a certain Dr. Heinman Bellingham. It might be useful later.

  The rest of her room doesn’t have much to show, but before I can leave...I see it.

  Her bookshelf.

  The spine of a book is slightly pulled out, not in place like the rest.

  Was it touched recently?

  I immediately grab it and look at the cover.

  “The Blackened Theatre”.

  I start leafing, it’s...a novel. I start reading some paragraphs, it’s a gothic horror novel about an unknown narrator that ends up in an empty town, shrouded in fog. Creepy.

  I skim through it, not really paying attention to the rest...until I find a dog-eared page. I shiver as soon as I see it.

  The whole page is completely blackened and ruined by a repetitive sentence, written all over:

  I SAW HER, I SAW HER, I SAW HER

  Over and over again. The handwriting is shaky, inconsistent.

  However, there’s a small portion of the page that’s clean, and it’s also marked...it’s a passage. Claire avoided scribbling over it, I suppose.

  

  The White Maiden came in the night, her dress darker than the void between stars, her eyes pale and gleaming like a sky that has never known the sun.

  She did not speak, but I understood her.

  She showed me things that should not be seen, things that burned my mind forever, changing me.

  She whispered into my ear as we became one, asking me the same question.

  “Do you love me?”

  The description sounds like the Outer One Claire was seeing. The frantic and constant repetitions of “I saw her” all around the passage prove it to me. It was a hallucination.

  Then...the serial killed was a coincidence?

  Now that I think of it, she was raped...by male genitalia. In the first place, no female was involved in this murder.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  I sit down at her desk, dejected. I don’t know what to say.

  I ignored her calls for help, and I was right...the girl she kept seeing was a novel’s character. The White Maiden.

  But...she did say that this specific vision felt real, tangible. Maybe she was deluding herself and she was seeing her male stalker as this White Maiden? Maybe that’s why I didn’t recognize anyone watching her in the crowd at the bar.

  I wanna dig deeper...this fucker might have played on this poor girl’s mental instability to become her ghost.

  Back at the apartment, I’m tired. I didn’t find much else at Claire’s house...it was mostly clean. I wish I could get my hands on the evidence the police gathered.

  My only next lead is her contacts. Mostly coworkers of the boutique. I will pass by Monday morning and ask some questions.

  I crack open a beer and dial her number on the phone.

  

  “Elima, thank god you’re the one answering this time.”

  She chuckles,

  “Don’t they bring you with them?”

  Silence, then a weak response,

  I sigh, “are you gonna eat dinner alone?”

  

  I bite my lips and take a deep breath, “look...you can come over if you want. I know you’re angry, but-”

  

  I nod and swallow my words, hard, “thank you, Elima.”

  

  I smile, "you choose."

  She chose to have dinner out at a restaurant...my wallet’s gonna scold me but...anything to make her less disappointed in me.

  “So...what did you find at Claire’s house?”

  I raise my eyes from the plate, confused, “what tells you that I went there?”

  “I’m not stupid, Edward,” she chuckles.

  I sigh and roll my eyes, “not much...just proof that her hallucinations were exactly that, hallucinations. It’s the character of a novel.”

  “Well...doesn’t this mean it’s not your fault? You were right, you closed the case because you thought this Outer One girl didn’t exist.”

  “Mhm...but Claire still died. Also, I think the hallucinations might have been caused by the real killer himself.”

  “I see, well...but still...do you intend on investigating more?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But why? You don’t get paid, you’re outside of the law...you’re ditching your real, actually paying clients for some mystery you’re not involved with. Why?”

  “Are we gonna start arguing?”

  I glare at her, my fork up and ready to enter into my mouth since a while now.

  She frowns, slumping into the chair, “no...but I just don’t get it.”

  “You don’t have to get it. Don’t worry...this won’t affect my main job. I postponed the appointments, I didn’t cancel them.”

  “Just promise me that you’ll leave it be if it gets too hot.”

  I sigh loudly and nod, “okay, okay...just don’t worry, alright?”

  “I won’t…”

  A waiter comes to our table with a glass of wine, smiling at me.

  “Would you and your girlfriend like a taste of our wine? We’re trying a new supplier and we’d like customer feedback.”

  “Uh...we’re-”

  “Yes! Of course!” Elima stops me, pushing her glass forward, “I’d like to try it.”

  “You?” The waiter asks me. I keep silent and blush.

  “Yes, what about you, darling?” Elima giggles.

  I clear my throat, “s-sure. Fine. Let’s taste it.”

  We get back in the car, Elima sighs contentedly, looking at me with a smile, “well...that was a nice dinner. It didn’t cost much either, no?”

  “Hm…yeah, but I didn’t like the crowd...they looked at me like I was some sort of mafia boss.”

  “Hahahah! You definitely look like someone dangerous!”

  “Really?” I touch my face, “I think I look like an idiot…”

  “An idiot that I like...very much,” she runs her finger along my shoulder, making my spine shiver.

  “Just drive...I wanna get home.”

  The travel is silent, until Elima asks something else.

  “So...what do you think about what that waiter said?”

  “Hm?”

  “Me being your girlfriend.”

  “That’s he’s some sort of weirdo if he really thinks we’re together.”

  “Pfft! Aww, come on! We do look a bit cute together, right?”

  “Elima...drop it,” I look away, feeling my ears starting to burn.

  “Haha! Come on...you get embarrassed so easily?”

  “It’s just an embarrassing topic! Knock it off...”

  “Alright...alright...then should I not stay at your place tonight?”

  “Well...that’s another thing...but...if you want, you can go home.”

  “Haha, I’m just kidding. I wanna spend the night with you.”

  “Alright…”

  She softly whimpers while she rocks her hips above me. I stare at the ceiling, the dim lights making it hard to observe. I feel her heart beating loudly against mine, her moans filling my left ear.

  But she notices it very soon, my touch isn’t hungry, my breathing is steady.

  “Edward...where are you right now?” She goes down from her own high just for me, stopping her movements.

  “I’m just thinking about Claire.”

  She groans, frustrated, “it’s not your fault...the visions weren’t even related, right?”

  “I know, but it still makes me feel weird for some reason. It hits harder than other cases. It was eerie...how she was having visions and then-”

  “I’m gonna kiss you if you don’t shut up.”

  Her naked body, veiled by the darkness, is a bit more discernible as she raises herself with her hands. She looks at me fiercely...a look you don’t wanna see from someone you’re currently inside of.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “The killer came to her house, out of nowhere. There was nothing you could do. I’ll let you pursue this...but only if you don’t bring it up while we fuck.”

  “Yes. Yes. You’re right...I’m sorry.”

  She sighs, melting her frustration, transforming it into something softer. She presses her forehead against mine, her bosom hitting my chest, reverberating her loud heartbeat as she begins moving again, “just be here, with me, right now.”

  “Yes...I’m with you...Elima…”

  “Good…”

  Pleasure starts taking over. I handle her skin with care, tasting its smooth texture, and I start to finally join her with rhythm.

  The afterglow should be enough to put me to sleep. But in my mind, that book comes up again.

  I should read it…

  Monday.

  We just opened my office, Elima has everything ready and I’m leaving my desk first thing to go to the boutique.

  “You’re good right?” I ask her as she sits down at her desk at the entrance, as always.

  “Yes, don’t worry. I’ll handle the clients.”

  “Okay, thank you...if it gets too much, tell me. Either I give you more vacation days or bump your paycheck. You shouldn’t be doing this, and I’m sorry.”

  “I just told you! Don’t worry!” Elima pats my back, “just make sure to do what you promised, okay?”

  “I will, I will.”

  My promise? Gather evidence and send it to Lowe as an anonymous tip.

  I just gotta hope they do something with what I find.

  I get into the car and start driving right away.