Chapter 2 - The Predator and the Portent

I flinched, my whole body seized by a visceral terror. Detective Ote stood at his full, imposing height, a predatory silhouette against the bright morning. He was just as chilling, just as fundamentally wrong, as he had been two years ago.

"No... No," I whispered, shaking my head frantically. The memories of his relentless, cruel interrogations flooded back, cold and sharp.

"Hello again, Danny Bowen." His smirk was a thin, vicious curve.

"No... No..." My breath hitched, fear constricting my throat until I was hyperventilating.

"It seems you are back to your old tricks. Only this time, nobody will be able to help you." Ote stepped forward, his movement swift, and before I could scramble away, he gripped my collar, hauling me violently to my feet.

Officer Net tried to intervene, "Sir, please!" But Ote shoved him aside like an annoyance, spinning me around and slamming me against the cafe’s cold glass window. The impact stole my breath. In a dizzying rush, he wrenched my arms back and snapped the cuffs shut.

"I got you this time, you twisted bastard," Ote hissed, his spittle hitting my cheek.

"No! I didn't! It wasn't me!" I cried out, struggling against the excruciating grip he had on my arm.

"Sir, stop! He is a witness, not a suspect!" Officer Net pleaded, his voice rising.

"Did I ask for your opinion, Net?" Ote roared, his volume drawing the horrified focus of the growing crowd. "This bastard killed his own best friend two years ago, using this exact method! Now he shows up at a similar crime scene? Coincidence? I highly doubt it."

"This is discrimination! None of that is true!" I shouted, desperation raw in my voice.

"Oh, you think I care? I couldn't nail you last time, but this time... oh, you are mine." He grabbed my arm, preparing to drag me toward his unmarked car.

A primal, survival instinct took over. I dug my heels into the pavement. I had a profound, icy premonition about him and a worse one about his vehicle. I would not get into that car.

"Are you resisting arrest, Bowen?" Ote didn't wait for an answer. A sharp, brutal punch landed on the side of my head, knocking me instantly to the ground. Gasps and shocked intakes of breath erupted from the onlookers.

Dazed, I shook my head, my eyes watering. I noticed the flashing red lights, the crowd, and several passersby raising their phones to record the scene.

"No," I managed, inching away from him on my hands and knees. "I am not resisting. I just refuse to get into your car."

"Why you little—!" Ote’s voice boomed, thick with thwarted rage, as the surrounding whispers intensified.

I shrank back, dread filling my stomach. As he advanced, face contorted in fury, my vision flickered. Around Ote, a terrifying optical anomaly appeared: a subtle, shimmering black mist seemed to ripple outwards from his shoulders. I blinked, rubbing my eyes. When I opened them, the mist was gone, but Ote was no longer advancing on me.

"With all due respect, sir," Officer Net's voice was sharp, steady, and utterly confident. He was standing directly between us. "I believe Mr. Bowen is a crucial witness, not a suspect. Since you insist on arresting him, I will take him into the station myself."

Ote stiffened. "Why? Why should I allow this?" he spat, redirecting his fury.

"Because I feel profoundly uncomfortable with this situation and even more so with your behavior," Net replied, holding Ote's furious gaze. "I will also be reporting this incident to my superior."

"I am your superior!"

"Then I will take this higher than you. Now, if you will excuse me, I will take Mr. Bowen in." Officer Net turned, immediately crouching down to help me to my feet.

"I am so sorry about that, Danny," he murmured as he walked me quickly toward his cruiser, separating me from Ote's toxic presence. "I don't know why Detective Ote has it out for you, but I will do everything to limit your interaction with him. Please, just come down to the station with me."

I nodded, the fear still a painful vise around my chest. "I figured this would happen," I mumbled, the words heavy with resignation.

"Why is that?" Officer Net asked, opening the rear door of his cruiser.

"Because this is exactly what happened last time," I replied.

He paused, holding the door open. "Last time?"

I nodded again, sliding into the back seat. Net shut the door, walked around, and got into the driver’s seat. He started the engine, pulling away from the growing police perimeter.

"Could you tell me about the last time, Danny?" he asked gently, keeping his eyes on the road.

I swallowed, the tears threatening to overwhelm me again. "Two years ago, my best friend, Alex, was killed. We were working together, investigating the cold case of my parents' deaths. We were staying in a cheap hotel, and suddenly, we heard a commotion downstairs. He jumped up, pulled me to the bathroom, shoved me inside, and locked the door."

My voice cracked. "I opened it, but the look in his eyes... he pushed me back again, silently motioned for me to lock it, and I was frozen. It was like a spell."

"What did you hear then?" Net asked, his tone still perfectly calm.

"Silence, for a few seconds. Then, the slam of our bedroom door opened."

"Why didn't you try to leave the bathroom?"

"I don't know. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to move, to run, but his gaze had me pinned. His eyes held such profound sorrow, but also this fierce, desperate determination. As if he knew he had to protect me, even if it cost him everything. I still don't understand how or why it happened."

"Why were you investigating your parents’ case?"

"They were killed when I was young, but the official story always felt wrong. Alex and I started researching when we were sixteen. No one took us seriously. Three years ago, we finally found a promising lead and spent a year chasing it."

Officer Net nodded slowly. "Is this distrust... is this where it started?"

I sighed. "It started there. But it was Alex's murder that cemented it. I was the only witness, and Detective Ote—he tried everything to pin it on me."

"Why? You said you were together."

"Because the hotel cameras were down that night. No one admitted to hearing the disturbance I heard downstairs. And the only forensic evidence was mine, Alex's, and an unknown DNA. Mine and Alex's made sense—we lived there. But they completely ignored the unknown sample. They were fixated on me being the killer."

"What was the sight you saw when you left the bathroom, Danny?" Net asked, throwing the question at me like a forensic fact.

I stared out the window as we came off the motorway, the grey sky mirroring the despair in my chest. "It was a scene of horrors. There was blood everywhere, the room was in disarray yet..." I took a shuddering breath. "But that wasn't the weirdest part."

"What was weirder than that?" Officer Net asked, his voice faint with a tremor.

"Alex was nowhere to be found, and since that day, no one has seen him. His family pretends that he doesn't exist, and Detective Ote is convinced that I killed him."

"Dissappeared..." Officer Net repeated, sounding sickened. "Where was the unknown DNA found?"

"On the door handle, and on Alex's necklace."

"That sounds like something out of a horror film," Net said quietly, pulling up to the back entrance of the precinct. "But still, I can't understand Ote's hatred."

"He interviewed me first," I explained, tears welling again. "I was in shock, unable to speak or move. That frustrated him, made him think I was hiding something. He called it an act."

"Did you ever manage to talk to him?"

"The next day, yes."

Officer Net parked the car. He looked back at me, his gaze full of serious concern. "Why couldn't you speak on the day of the murder, Danny?"

I leaned my head against the cold glass, the tears finally flowing freely. "Because he was my best friend," I whispered, broken. "The person I loved with all my heart. I just shut down. I lost everything again that night. My world came crashing down, and I couldn't find the strength to pick up a single piece."