Persons Unknown Novel Novels & Stories

“You think money makes you our equal?” “No,” I said. “But it keeps me out of your reach.” *** Once home, I pulled up my DMs and opened the anonymous user’s account. Guest 9271. No name, no videos, no profile picture… just a ghost. I opened up the chat and sent him a message. Me: Thank you. I don’t know who you are, but I’ll repay you. GUEST_9271: No repayment. Me: I can’t accept this from a stranger.

--- *Monday | 1:00am | Alone* Elena was still in her office. Her phone buzzed. Unknown number. No text. Just a photo. It was the original sign-in sheet. With V.C. circled in red. Sender: Unknown. Elena deleted it. She sat in the dark thinking about how easy it was to burn something down. And how much harder it was to prove who lit the match when the match was never meant to be found. ---

The neon glow of the diner across the street flickered hazily, casting distorted silhouettes on the cracked pavement. She gripped her camera - more than a tool, it was her armor - and waited. The town had been whispering about the murders for weeks, hushed gossip trailing every corner like poison: mutilated bodies discovered in the dead of night, all linked by an unspoken horror. And none had been caught. Lena came for answers. She would not let the darkness swallow her sister’s memory without a fight. Footsteps echoed nearby slowly, deliberately. She steadied her nerves and raised the camera. From the shadows emerged a tall and commanding figure, his presence almost a physical force. Jeremy

He deleted the thread, powered the phone off again, and stared at the dark screen until his reflection stared back—hollow-eyed, jaw set. A sharp knock at the door. He froze. Heart slammed once, twice. Through the peephole: empty hallway. No one. He cracked the door on the chain. Nothing. Then he looked down. A small, unmarked package sat on the mat. Plain brown paper. His fake name—Marc Evans—scrawled in thick black marker. He snatched it inside, shut and locked the door, chain rattling. Tore the paper open. Inside: a single Ostin City FC training sock. Navy blue with white trim. Still grass-stained at the toe, still carrying the faint scent of turf and liniment.

I just knew that my stupid landlord had turned off the electricity in my house because he must have opened the envelope, counted the dollar bills and realised it was not enough money. I tiredly removed my clothes and took a very cold shower. Practically only washing the necessary parts; the splits, pits and shits. Then, I jumped into bed. I got cosy as I continued with my search for that Hale man through my cracked screen, only to get a message from a random man on my phone. - - - Unknown number: Addison…you can’t hide from me forever. - - -

Today should be November 15th. I opened my eyes and glanced at the calendar on my phone. When I woke up, a doctor in a white coat was standing beside me. I remembered him; his name was Henry Lewis, my senior and also my attending doctor. Then there was another man... At this moment, he was standing in front of me, looking hostile. "You faint so easily, Mia Frank. When did you start learning how to act?" he sneered. My head throbbed for a moment, and I finally recalled his identity.

What if this person knew who I was and was using the information he knew about me to taunt me? But it couldn’t be. I was new to the pack, there was no way anyone knew who I was. Everything was going crazy. I needed to talk to somebody. Micah was the first person to come to mind, but I didn’t want to have to disturb him. This was my fight and I needed to fight it for myself for once. My phone buzzed again and it was another message from the ominous stranger. Ominous stranger: A picture perfect family's nightmare is their treasure chest.

With darkness approaching, we arrived in Seattle and decided to book a motel room, intending to start fresh in the morning in our quest to find her. Once settled in my motel room, I took a refreshing shower and ordered myself a pizza for dinner. While watching the news and enjoying my meal, I received a text from an unfamiliar number. Unknown: She belongs to me. You will never succeed in retrieving her. Your search only angers me and causes more harm to her. If you wish to see Stella alive, cease your pursuit. Kai: If you harm Stella in any way, I swear I will hunt you down and make you pay. Just release her and leave town. No one will come after you.

But after weeks of dead ends and Theodore’s relentless pressure, I was willing to take a chance. The restaurant, “Le Jardin Secret,” was a haven of hushed whispers and flickering candlelight. The air hung heavy with the scent of expensive perfume and exotic spices, a stark contrast to the gritty realism of the newsroom I had just left. I scanned the faces, searching for any sign of my anonymous informant. My eyes finally landed on a lone figure seated in a dimly lit corner, shrouded in shadows. A single, flickering candle cast an ethereal glow on his face, revealing the unmistakable features of Alexei Pushkin.

Nobody sees them thankfully so I can live relatively normal. I was able to get a small furnished apartment, with Shannon's help. I am starting a new job as a waitress this next week and I'm finishing school online. I was moved to a new location in the middle of Oklahoma and my "life story" changed. My name is still Rachel, but my last name is now Taylor. There wasn't evidence of having been found yet, but Shannon and the WPA wanted to be safe. I was able to even dye my hair, so now I'm a redhead. Well, auburn, but still. I am enjoying my new life.