Chapter 1

Kellan Faust was the one who had organized this bachelor party. He had invited four of us: me and three of my good friends.

When I arrived, I found three people dead. Their twisted corpses were laid out within the room.

Kellan was the reason that this event came about in the first place. His eyes were wide open. He was lying by the television and gazing vacantly at the ceiling.

Lysette Thomas was slumped on the couch directly opposite the door. Her pretty face was bloodless.

Cynthia Wembley lay on her belly on the floor. One of her hands was outstretched toward the door. It looked as though she was calling for help.

There was the smell of food and something sour in the air.

I did not dare to look any closer. My stomach flipped, and I could feel the blood drain from my face.

Where I stood by the door, I let myself slide slowly to the floor with my back pressed to the icy wall.

Half an hour or so later, footsteps sounded in the hallway, along with the noise of walkie-talkies.

The ambulance, coroner, and police detectives all arrived at nearly the same time.

The coroner asked a few simple questions as he passed me by. After making notes about the condition at the scene and the state of the bodies, he had the corpses put into the ambulance to await further examination.

A few police officers appeared at the top of the stairs with some boxes and quickly walked over.

In the lead was a man in his forties. Though his face was kind, his eyes were sharp as his gaze swept over the room to land on me. I was still huddled on the floor.

He crouched down in front of me and said, “I’m Detective Jay Xavier from the criminal investigations team. You were the one who called the police?”

I nodded. My throat was constricted, which made it hard for me to speak.

“On the phone, you said that you were the last to arrive at the party and found these three bodies inside?”

My voice was hoarse as I replied, “Yes.”

“What’s your name? How are you acquainted with these people here?”

“Morgan Kimmerer.” I did my best to speak normally. “These are my good friends. Kellan is supposed to get married tomorrow, so he wanted to have some fun tonight.”

Jay nodded and stood up. He gestured to his colleagues and the crime scene team, who put on gloves and shoe covers before starting to catalogue the scene.

Jay did not proceed further into the room immediately. Instead, he stood by the door and observed everything within. He assessed every corner of the room with some curiosity.

Then, he turned to me again. His voice was as steady as before, but his questions became more directed.

“When was the last time you were in contact with them?”

“After 6 p.m. or so. I sent a message to our group chat saying that there was a work emergency, so I would be a bit late.” I took a hard swallow. “Kellan even replied and said that we would drink and chat when I got here.”

“What time did you arrive?”

I did my best to recall, but my head was fuzzy.

“I looked at the time when I got out of the car. It was a few minutes after 10 p.m., I think.”

Jay looked at me with probing eyes.

“The preliminary investigation shows that the three of them died between 8:30 p.m. and 9:30 p.m., likely because of carbon monoxide and cyanide poisoning,” the coroner said when he came over.

One of the police officers to the side added, “They seem to have been quite calm when they died, and there were no signs of a violent struggle.

“Their expressions must have only gotten pained after the symptoms started and stayed that way. It looks like they ingested the tainted food unknowingly and died when the poison kicked in.”

Jay asked in a low voice, “Is there any sign that someone forced their way into the room?”

“The window and door handle don’t show any signs of forced entry. There are also no clear clues that another person has been in here,” the police officer replied.