2025-10-10 00:39:12The wind on the rooftop cut like a knife.
Cold. Sharp. Cruel. Tobias Sheldon froze where he stood, his breath torn away by the sight before him. “Elena…” His voice cracked like breaking glass. “Please—step down. Don’t do this. Look at me, Lena… look at me!” She swayed on the ledge, her thin hospital gown whipping violently around her fragile frame. Her hair lashed across her pale face, her eyes blown wide, unfocused—empty. It was like someone had stolen the soul out of her body. “Elena…” Tobias whispered, taking a slow, cautious step forward. “Think of Ethan. He’s downstairs. He couldn’t wait to see you today. You promised him.” Her lips trembled. For a terrifying moment, Tobias thought she was about to collapse forward. “Stay with me,” he breathed. “Remember our garden? Remember how you scolded me for drowning the tomatoes? People said I was hopeless… but you still loved and believed in me.” Her head tilted, confusion flickering through her hollow gaze. Tobias felt hope stir— Then the rooftop door slammed open. The explosion of noise shattered everything. Boots thundered across the concrete. “Step back!” guards shouted. “No!” Tobias spun around. “Stop—don’t—” But the damage was done. Elena jolted in terror. Her weak legs buckled. Her arms stretched out, reaching for nothing. And she fell. “ELENA!!!” Time broke. She toppled over the edge, gown spiraling behind her. Tobias lunged forward, fingers clawing at thin air, a scream tearing from his throat. Below— Her body hit the pavement with a sickening thud. Blood spread like a dark flower blooming beneath her. The world crashed with honking cars, gasps, screams—chaos exploding around her broken frame. “No…” Tobias whispered, horror swallowing him whole. “God, no…” His knees went weak, his heart hammering in his ribs until every beat felt like it would rip him open. Then— Headlights. A white van screeched beside her body. Two masked men jumped out. Fast. Professional. Silent. “What are you doing!?” Tobias yelled into the night, unable to tear his eyes away. They lifted Elena’s limp, blood-soaked body as if she weighed nothing. One grabbed her arms. The other her legs. And then—she was gone. Thrown into the van like cargo. The doors slammed. The tires screamed. The van vanished into the city. Tobias staggered backward, his heart slamming wildly in his chest. He blinked twice. Once. Twice. Was this real? No body. No goodbye. No explanation. Just blood. And a van that swallowed his wife whole. His throat tightened until he could barely breathe. Then he ran. He blasted through the stairwell, nearly tripping over the steps, the world blurring around him. Everything hurt. His chest. His legs. His soul. None of it mattered. He reached the street. Crowds had gathered. Nurses shouted. Security fought to clear people away. Tobias pushed through the chaos, his voice was hoarse and wild. “Where is she!? Where’s my wife!?” He reached the bloodstained pavement. He froze. She wasn’t there. Only the blood remained—dark, glistening, undeniable. “Where is she!?” he roared at a random man, grabbing his shirt. The man stuttered, “A-A van… They took her. Two men. They just… took her.” A woman with a child clutched at her chest. “It all happened so fast… I… I thought they were paramedics…” Tobias staggered backward, breath shaking, vision spinning. They didn’t let her die. They came for her. Why? His foot hit something soft. He looked down. A scarf. White. Torn at the edge. Stained with her blood. A small black crow was stitched into the fabric. The scarf belonged to Elena. Tobias froze as the emblem glinted under the streetlight. “Elena…” His voice cracked as he slowly picked it up. “What were they doing? Who… who wants you?” Before he could think, rough hands seized his arms. “Enough!” a guard snapped, shoving him hard. Tobias stumbled forward. “What are you doing!? Let go of me!” “What did you do to her?” the guard barked. “Why did she jump?” Tobias’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Jump!? She was drugged! Someone forced her—” Another voice cut through the noise. Sharp. Cold. Official. A detective stepped forward, notebook in hand, eyes dead and accusing. “Interesting timing,” he said. “Large debts… collapsing school… wife dies mysteriously… and you’re the only one on the roof with her.” Tobias stared at him, stunned. “You think I—!? I would NEVER—!” But the detective raised a hand, silencing him. “To us, it looks like desperation. Maybe you pushed her. Maybe you staged it.” His voice dropped. “Or maybe someone wanted her gone.” The implication sliced through Tobias like a blade. His debts. His failures. Everything he endured to save her… turned against him. Guards grabbed him again, tighter this time. People whispered. “He killed her.” “He snapped.” “Debt does that to a man.” “Poor woman…” Tobias felt the world tilt around him. “No!” His voice cracked. “She was taken! I saw the van! Two men took her—why won’t you listen!?” But desperation sounded like madness. And madness sounded like guilt. The guards shoved him down, knees slamming against concrete. Cuffs bit into his wrists. His face pressed into the pavement—warm with Elena’s blood. The scarf lay inches away. The crow emblem stared at him, dark and silent. A symbol. A warning. Or a clue. Tobias’s eyes burned. His heart screamed. His grief twisted. And something inside him—something long buried—snapped awake. Rage. Not loud. Not wild. It was cold. Controlled. Deadly. His fingers curled into fists, tightening so hard the cuffs cut into skin. “They took her,” he whispered, voice shaking but fierce. “They think they can hide. They think they can erase her.” His breath hitched. “I’ll find you, Lena. Dead or alive… I will find you. And I will tear the truth out of this city.” Wind swept through the street. The scarf fluttered. The crow’s wings seemed to gleam. But the world paid no attention to his vow. The crowd murmured louder. The detective stepped forward. Suspicion thickened like smoke. “Take him in,” the detective ordered. The guards yanked Tobias up roughly. His head hung, his breath was unsteady, his wrists bleeding. His eyes landed once more on the scarf. And a single question tore through his mind: Why her? Why take her? What does this mean? His voice trembled with fury as he whispered it aloud— “What… what does all this mean?”
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TARGETS CONFIRMED
The precinct gym was a world of sweat, echoing punches, and bad tempers. Officers trained under dim lights, their laughter was sharp and mean.In the center stood Sergeant Calderón, Argüello’s pet bulldog — a thick-armed man with scars and no mercy. He was forcing a rookie to do push-ups while shouting insults loud enough to shake the walls.Calderón’s voice thundered across the gym. “Fifty more! You call that a push-up, rookie? My grandmother could do better with one arm!”The rookie’s arms trembled, sweat dripping onto the mat. “Sir, I… I can’t—”Calderón kicked his boot lightly against the rookie’s ribs. “Can’t? You think the streets care about can’t? Down and up, boy!”The rookie gritted his teeth, his voice cracking. “It hurts, Sergeant.”“Good,” Calderón snarled. “Pain is the only honest thing you’ll ever learn in this job.”A junior officer nearby muttered, “He’s gonna pass out, sir.”Calderón turned sharply. “Then he’ll pass out stronger than he woke up. Now shut your mouth an
THE 5TH PRECINCT
The night after the market scandal felt like a storm that refused to rest.Ciudad de Sanvelis glowed under broken streetlights — the kind that flickered between light and shadow, like the city couldn’t decide if it wanted to stay clean or dirty.News vans still lingered outside cafés, broadcasting the aftershocks of Tobias’s revelation. “Fake Valdeza Volunteers Exposed.” The people had chosen their side. But Tobias knew this was only round one.It was already election week, and tension ran through Ciudad de Sanvelis like a live wire.Partial results from Montierra County were out — Doña Valdeza was leading by 12%, a fragile victory that could still vanish if they lost control of the streets.Voting continued across other counties, and every rally, every headline, every rumor now mattered.That’s why Tobias and his team were here — standing under the dripping awning of the 5th Precinct, where the permits for Valdeza’s next rally waited behind crooked smiles and dirty hands.Rain tapped
TRUTH IN THE SMOKE
She nodded and opened her bag. The drone came out like a tiny bird. Its eyes blinked green.“Ricardo,” Tobias said softly into his earpiece, “see them?”“Clear as daylight,” Ricardo replied from above. “Four total. One watching from the car shop behind you. They’re armed, but light.”“Don’t hit them,” Tobias said. “Just stay sharp.”Cielo released the drone. It rose quietly, hiding behind the tarps and smoke. The small camera turned, recording everything — the fake volunteers shouting, the old woman crying, the men collecting money in sacks.Tobias walked forward slowly. His coat brushed against the side of a vegetable stand. He stopped in front of the three men and spoke in a calm, deep tone.“Morning, gentlemen,” he said. “Who sent you?”The leader smiled, pretending to be confident. “We already said, sir — we’re working for Doña Valdeza’s campaign.”Tobias tilted his head slightly. “Oh? That’s interesting. Because Doña Valdeza doesn’t charge the poor for loyalty.”The man frowned.
THE MARKET OF BROKEN TRUST
Within ten minutes, they arrived at the Central Sanvelis market.Tobias clapped his hands once. “It’s time. Let’s move,” he said quietly. “We’ll find where Saavedra’s men are doing their dirty work.”The car door opened, and heat and noise rushed in like a storm. The smell of fish, sweat, and smoke filled the air. The narrow streets were alive with voices — traders calling customers, bus horns screaming, radios shouting the latest lies about Doña Valdeza.Posters of her face hung crooked on poles. Some had been scratched through, with words written in red ink: “THIEF.” “BLACK HAND.” “FAKE MOTHER OF THE POOR.”Tobias’s jaw tightened. “They’re really trying to break her,” he said under his breath.Cielo, small and fierce as ever, adjusted her hoodie and held the drone bag tight. “Then we’ll show them what truth looks like.”Nico nodded. “Let’s go hunt.”Ricardo “Ghost Eye” Valdez stayed back, climbing the stairs of an old building for a better view. His rifle wasn’t with him — only bino
SMOKE OVER SANVELIS
The city woke up angry.Gray smoke rolled over Ciudad de Sanvelis like a dirty blanket.Election posters hung torn on the highways. Those posters contained smiling faces promising peace to people of Sanvelis. Even to the ones who still fought to buy bread.Tobias stood by his black car, smoking slowly. The red tip of his cigarette glowed in the cold.Cielo sat near him, fixing her small drone.Nico wrapped tape around his hands like he was ready for a fight.Ricardo “Ghost Eye” Valdez sat high on a broken billboard, his scope pointed at the city below.“We’ll put Doña Valdeza in the Governor’s chair,” Tobias said. His voice was calm but sharp. “Not for love — for power. We need a voice in the state government.”Cielo looked up. “Politics is dirtier than the docks.”“Then we’ll learn to swim in dirt,” Tobias said.Nico asked, “And if we drown?”Tobias took a long drag. “Then we rebuild from what’s left.”No one laughed.A truck passed by and shook the bridge.Ricardo stayed quiet.Tobi
THE WATCHER JOINS
The rain had washed the night away, but the bridge still smelled of metallic bullets and regret.When dawn broke, a pale light crawled across the horizon like an exhausted soldier.Ricardo “Ghost Eye” Valdez followed Tobias without asking where they were going.Every step echoed on the wet road, every silence between them felt like a test he hadn’t yet passed.They stopped at an abandoned railyard at the edge of Sanvelis — rusted trains, shattered glass, and tracks that led nowhere.A cold wind blew through the broken windows, stirring dust like ghosts of steel.Tobias set a heavy case on a crate.“Two hundred meters,” he said quietly, pointing to a bent iron beam half-hidden by fog. “There’s a bird on that wall.”Ricardo frowned. “A bird?”Tobias’s lips barely curved. “Take it.”Ricardo hesitated, then knelt by the case and opened it.The rifle gleamed inside, black and smooth, smelling faintly of oil and rain.His fingers trembled when he touched it — as if the weapon recognized him
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