"HAEM! Why am I seeing... double? That's no good, stuck-up boss... I'll kill him one day, I swear!" the drunken employee muttered, weaving his way through the dark path. His words were followed by a drunken laugh as he broke into a tuneless rendition of a song his boss always loved.
The employee had just left Vesa Lounge, a mid-tier bar popular among office workers looking to drown their stress in cheap liquor.
He was walking along the footpath. The street was dark and empty, with only a few vehicles passing by. As he walked, a faint glint caught his eye, forcing him to squint. "Huh?" He bent down, his fingers brushing against a golden ring. His eyes widened as recognition struck.
"Wait... this is... the boss's ring? The golden ring?"
He let out another laugh, louder this time. "Am I that drunk? Am I imagining things?"
A damp, foul stench suddenly filled his nose, making him gag. He waved a hand in front of his face, his drunken stupor giving way to mild irritation. The source of the smell wasn't far—between two large, closed shops was a narrow passageway, where a dented metal dustbin loomed in the shadows. Black fabric spilled out of it, carelessly discarded.
"What's with this smell?" he mumbled, taking a cautious step forward. His gaze locked onto the fabric. "Wait... isn't this... the suit my boss wears every day?"
His drunken chuckle escaped again, though weaker this time. "I'm seeing things. It's just the booze,
making my grudge against that man show me crazy stuff. I should go home... It's already 3 a.m."
He turned to leave but froze mid-step. Something caught his eye—something pale poking out from under the fabric.
A hand.
Fear gripped him like a vice. His mouth went dry, and his legs felt heavy as lead. His heart pounded violently in his chest as he turned back to the dustbin, each step toward it slower than the last. Sweat dripped down his temples, and his trembling hands reached out to lift the fabric. What he saw made his stomach lurch. His boss lay crammed inside the dustbin, lifeless and mangled. Blood streaked his once-pristine face, and his eyes, wide open, seemed to stare into the void. But the most horrifying sight was his chest—or lack of it. His Ribcage was torn apart, exposing a gruesome void where his heart should have been.
Employee stumbled back, his scream tearing through the still night air.
The sound echoed, breaking the silence of the alley. Lights flicked on in the nearby buildings, windows opening as startled residents peered out to see what was happening. Cars screeched to a halt on the nearby street as passersby stopped, their curiosity piqued by the terrifying sound.
But employee couldn't think about any of that. His knees gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to the ground, shaking uncontrollably. The image of his boss's mutilated body burned into his mind, haunting him as the world around him erupted into chaos.
The sirens wailed through the air, their shrill cry cutting through the stillness of the night. Head of the City Department, Silhus Shud, arrived at the crime scene, his expression darkening as he surveyed the grisly sight before him. "This is just… gruesome," he muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the area. He motioned to the officers. "Take the body to forensics. Hardy, where's the guy who saw the corpse?"
"Sir, he's been taken to the hospital. He's in critical condition. When he saw his boss dead here, he went into a state of trauma."
"Dammit," Silhus sighed, rubbing his temples. "Send some officers to the hospital. Let me know as soon as he's stable." "We've already sent a few, but sir… there's something else."
Silhus turned, his curiosity piqued. "What is it?" "There was a homeless man sleeping in a nearby alley. He was the first one to hear the scream and alerted the authorities," Hardy reported.
Silhus raised an eyebrow. "Great, then let's go meet him." The team moved quickly, heading to the nearby alley where the homeless man had been resting. The smell of damp concrete and decay filled the air as they approached. The man disheveled and clearly in poor health, was sitting on a makeshift blanket beside an old storefront. His eyes darted nervously as the officers stepped closer.
The man was taken to the police station, where Silhus sat across from him, asking questions, trying to extract any useful information. But the homeless man's answers were scattered and incoherent. He seemed frightened, unable to provide anything substantial about the crime. After a long, frustrating interrogation, Silhus finally gave up.
No new clues emerged. With no solid leads, he returned to his home, the weight of the case pressing down on him. The gruesome murder replayed in his mind as he lay on his bed that night, staring at the ceiling. "Why do I feel like I've seen the victim somewhere?" he thought his mind racing. "I've never met him. I've never seen him before in my life…" His thoughts shifted to the manner of the murder—the victim's rib cage torn apart, exposed in a way that didn't seem possible. "This... it's not the first time I've heard of such a thing." His brow furrowed. "Where?" The images of the crime scene lingered in his mind, stubborn and unsettling. Silhus rolled over, trying to sleep, but the case gnawed at him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something about this murder was all too familiar.
The city of Malonce awoke to chilling news. A fresh newspaper, still damp from the printing press, was thrown onto porches and sold on bustling street corners. The bold, menacing letters on the front page were enough to make people freeze in place, their morning routines shattered by a single terrifying truth.
"THE RIB CAGE KILLER HAS RETURNED AFTER AN ETERNITY."
Murmurs rippled through the crowded streets, whispers turned into frantic discussions, and soon, panic settled into the bones of every citizen. Television screens were filled with news: " The Rib Cage Killer—a name from old ghost stories, a nightmare buried in the town's past—is now on everyone's lips once again." Inside a small, dimly lit house, a young boy clutched the newspaper, his hands trembling. "Mama…" he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "The manager of Cronhus Company… was found… just like those people in the old stories." His mother, standing by the sink, stopped scrubbing the dishes. Her back straightened, and she turned slowly, her face drained of color. "What did you just say?"
"The way he was killed… his rib cage was—"
"That's enough," his mother snapped, snatching the paper from his hands. Her fingers clutched the edges so tightly that the paper crumpled. "We shouldn't talk about such things. Not in this house."
"But it's all over the town," the boy protested. "People are saying this killer has come back. But that's not possible, right? He died a long time ago, didn't he?"
She didn't answer. Her gaze was distant, lost in a memory she had tried to bury years ago. She had
heard the stories before. Stories of people torn open, their rib cages shattered, their hearts missing—as if something had plucked them out with inhuman precision. She swallowed hard and walked towards her husband. He was sitting in their bedroom, staring at his mobile phone, stunned by the news. "We shouldn't send our son to school for a few days," she said firmly. "Until things settle down." Her husband sighed. "I don't know if hiding is the answer. But…" He looked at the phone. "If it really is him—" He stopped himself, unwilling to finish the sentence. Across town, schools saw a drop in attendance. Parents kept their children inside, locking doors early. Shop owners closed before dusk. A strange tension hung over Malonce, like a suffocating fog no one could escape from.
Older generations recall hushed stories, "My grandfather used to talk about The Rib cage killer.…But that was decades ago. How is he back?" And yet, not everyone believed it.
"People are panicking over nothing," a man scoffed at a bar counter, taking a deep sip of whiskey.
"You're telling me a dead man just crawled out of his grave to kill some big-shot manager?"
"Maybe someone's just copying him," another suggested. "Or maybe it's just a coincidence."
An old woman sitting nearby shook her head. Her voice was raspy but filled with something more than fear—certainty.
"No," she murmured. "It's him."
The men turned to her, brows furrowed.
"Lady, the guy killed himself decades ago," one of them scoffed. "There's no way—"
"You think death stops evil?" she cut him off, her eyes piercing. "You think time washes away a curse?"
The bar fell silent. No one had an answer.
Meanwhile, in the police station, Head Investigator Silhus Shud stood before a cluttered desk. Papers were scattered across its surface—old case files, yellowed with age, reports filled with faded ink. His subordinate, Hardy, placed a thick folder in front of him. "Sir, I went through the old case records," Hardy said, his voice a mixture of unease and urgency. "The Rib Cage Killer… he didn't just vanish. The lead investigator on the case, Miss Janice Cosonel had almost tracked him down. She was inches away from arresting him." Silhus frowned. "Then what happened?"
Hardy's expression darkened. He hesitated before answering, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "He vanished. He was the one who was never caught. After many decades, people assumed he must have been dead."
Silhus leaned back in his chair. "This guy was actually smart. But it doesn't seem like the one causing chaos now is the same person. He could be someone related to him or just inspired by him. We must catch him before he goes all out."
Hardy added, "But sir, there were a few suspicious cases similar to this a few years ago in Boron, Krickon, and Malonce City. However, the news didn't spread much because the victims were just common citizens, and there were no traces left behind. Since the murders stopped, the cases were closed." Silhus frowned. "That's strange!"
Silhus tapping his fingers against the desk. His eyes flicked down to the name at the bottom of the report.
HAYAM.....!!!!!
A name that should have been buried in history. A killer who should have remained dead.
And yet, his work had begun again.
Late at night, Silhus sat at his desk, sifting through the files related to the Rib Cage Killer case. His mind was tired, but the task at hand felt endless. The soft hum of the office's fluorescent lights filled the quiet cabin. Suddenly, a light knock echoed on his door. "Sir, sorry to disturb you," a voice said from the other side. "But you need to rest. I've received orders from CHP. A Cop will be joining us tomorrow morning to assist with the investigation. She's the Head of department from Krickon City."
Silhus sighed, exhaling heavily as he leaned back in his chair. "Man, these higher-ups are really getting on my nerves," he muttered. "Anyway, thanks for letting me know. I suppose I should rest. Don't know who this officer is, but I hope she's not one of those 'overbearing, superior' types. Hopefully, she'll just support the investigation without any drama. Good night." Hardy smiled, trying to hide his amusement. "Good night, boss."
In the morning, Silhus woke up a little late. He had fallen asleep at his desk in his cabin, surrounded by files. Hardy, sweating and in a hurry, rushed into the room. He noticed Silhus still asleep and gently tried to wake him up, though he was clearly pressed for time.
"Sir, you need to wake up. She's here... and she's terrifying," Hardy said, his voice tinged with worry.
Silhus rubbed his forehead and slowly sat up. "Ah, just as I expected," he muttered. "Alright, let's go Hardy. I'll see for myself how scary she really is."
Meanwhile, in the station's waiting area, an officer nervously glanced around.
"This isn't even a police station," the woman's sharp voice echoed. "No one here is disciplined! I ordered tea ten minutes ago, and it still hasn't arrived. And what's with this dusty chair? Is this place even functioning properly? And where's your boss? He's still not here? Such an undisciplined officer...! Oye you, go check on my tea!" The officer, visibly frightened, nodded quickly. "Y-yes, ma'am! I'll be right back!"
The atmosphere in the room grew tense as everyone watched in fear of the new arrival. As Silhus walked into the waiting hall, one of the officers whispered, "Ma'am, our Head is here..."
She turned around slowly, and as her eyes met Silhus's, her expression froze. "Now then, you're late..." she started, but stopped as soon as she saw him. Silhus's eyes widened in surprise. "Ayuru...!!" he muttered, shocked. Ayuru, equally stunned, whispered under her breath, "Silhus...!!"
Both of them stood frozen for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.