Strike in the Shadows

I had solved countless cases as a homicide detective, but my first serial killer case was leading me to multiple dead ends. The case stumped everyone working on it, for it seemed that the killer was always ten steps ahead. The victim count rose to double digits within two months, and we still had zero evidence. No leads, no witnesses, it was as if they were a ghost.

Based on the swiftness of the execution of each kill and the subsequent cover-up of evidence, some of us speculated that it was most likely two or more people carrying out the crimes—and we especially agreed on the idea that they most likely had a background, or at least extensive knowledge, in Law Enforcement and Forensics. I asked my mother, the Chief Medical Examiner, about her thoughts on this case, and even she had no direct response.

Another month passed, and the case was still leading us nowhere. At this point, our team was sidelined and the case was taken over by the higher-ups. They surprisingly showed faster results within the month that followed. It was a little too fast. We caught wind that the Governor was pressing for a quick resolution, but I wondered what methods they truly used to get those results. I had no doubts in my mind that they were letting the real killers loose by sacrificing a different criminal. It would’ve been a risky move, had it not been for the silence from the side of the perpetrators, who seemed to want no spotlight for their vile deeds.

My suspicions were confirmed when I looked into the matter behind the higher-ups’ backs. The man had murdered his wife, two children, and eleven other relatives in a killing spree over two decades ago. He did not fit the profile at all. My boss discovered that I was digging into the case and placed me on paid leave. Having been forced to step down from work for the first time in three years, I visited Mom’s place to have a non-work-related conversation for once. It was never an easy task.

Three hours into that day, my mind was already racing through different scenarios about the case. Mom urged me to stop pursuing it since it was not good for my health. She had a point, especially given the lapses in my memories in recent months, but I knew I needed to see it through. If I didn’t, no one would. Two weeks into my suspension, I made a startling discovery—and it was not even while I was actively searching for clues. I was clearing out some old stuff from my storage room when I found a box out of place, tucked away in a corner, along with a few bags.

The box itself was nothing suspicious, as it only had some old albums, but underneath it was a latch I had never seen before. Within it were several files and DVDs. My eyes widened as I raced through the contents in the files, for it was all background details on the victims of the serial killer I was pursuing. There were photos, bank records, and other sensitive information that I shouldn’t have had in my possession. But that was not all: there were records of homicides from three years ago that were pushed back to close high-profile cases, especially since they were those of lesser-known criminals in the area.

It seemed there was a similar connection to the new murders, as their personal records showed deeply concealed trails of money laundering and drug trafficking operations. They were all faceless criminals that operated in the shadows. The serial killers were vigilantes. Afterwards, I turned my attention to the DVDs, each of which was labelled with the initials of the victims and their death dates.

What unfolded next confirmed the suspicions that were crawling up my skin as I sifted through those files—I was one of the killers. Those were all recordings of executions performed by me, or at least another part of me. They spoke to the camera and introduced themself as “Zero”, and they spoke directly to me, saying that they are always here to keep the neighbourhood safe from the dangers that slipped through the cracks, to ensure that they disappear within the shadows for good.

What was even more shocking to see was that Mom was also in the videos. She was the reason why the crime scenes were always so spotless. I called her immediately and asked her what was going on, and she said that Zero had been there since I was a teen, and that they had also changed as we grew older. Zero was the one who bore all my pain and frustrations and redirected it in the way they thought was the best solution. My head began to spin as I absorbed this information, preparing myself to face what was ahead of me. I placed the files and the DVDs back in the latch and covered it with the box. Zero’s secret was safe with me.