The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, their cold glare making the white walls of the morgue feel even more suffocating. Tom rubbed his temples—his skin itched under the bandage. He tried to remember, but all that came to him was fire. Endless, consuming flames. And a body, motionless.

  After that, everything was a blur.

  His head throbbed, and the sharp scent of antiseptic burned his nostrils. He shouldn’t be here. But he needed to see for himself.

  Kelly walked beside him, her boots clicking rhythmically against the tiled floor. She hadn’t said much since they left the ward, but her silence was louder than any accusation. Tom could feel her eyes on him, watching, weighing.

  Prime suspect. The words weren’t spoken, but they were there, hanging in the air between them.

  “You sure you don’t remember anything, Captain Everly?” Kelly asked. Her voice was flat, her gaze locked straight ahead. “You were found naked next to a corpse in a burning building. Not exactly a forgettable night.”

  Tom exhaled through his nose. “I told you, Sergeant. I don’t remember what I did yesterday. Let alone me being there. And your claims don’t exactly make any sense.”

  Kelly’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t respond.

  The morgue attendant led them down a narrow hallway, the temperature dropping with each step. The walls felt too close, and Tom’s breath fogged in front of him.

  When they reached a steel door, the attendant turned to them expectantly.

  Kelly gave a curt nod. “We’ll take it from here.”

  The attendant hesitated, his eyes flicking to Tom. Tom gave him a slow nod, and he briskly walked away.

  Kelly exhaled, gripping the handle. “Just so you know,” she said, pulling the door open, “the body’s in bad shape. Burned beyond recognition.”

  Inside, the room was stark and freezing. The air was thick with the sterile, metallic scent of death. A covered figure lay on a metal table.

  Kelly walked toward it, resting a hand on the sheet. “The only thing we had to go on was their teeth, but nothing came up in the database.”

  Tom took a slow step forward, his eyes on the body. “Maybe he’s not from here.”

  Kelly’s gaze snapped to him. “So, it’s a he?”

  Tom didn’t answer. He’d been in morgues more times than he could count, but it never got easier. The silence here felt different—heavy. A place where the dead outnumbered the living.

  Kelly studied him silently as he reached for the sheet, hesitating for just a second before pulling it back.

  The body was charred beyond recognition. The skin blackened, cracked, and flaked away in places. It barely looked human—a grotesque mockery of life. Tom’s stomach twisted, but he forced himself to look. He had to find something. Anything.

  A clue. A memory. A reason.

  He exhaled sharply. “So, you found me beside this?”

  Kelly gave a dry laugh. “That’s the most disturbing part.” She studied him, eyes narrowing. “You, standing there, completely unscathed. Not a single deep burn. And no clue how you got there? Yeah. That’s a real masterpiece.”

  Tom let out a slow breath. “Maybe it’s an elaborate setup. Maybe you guys are behind this.” He took a step closer, voice dropping. “Look at me. No burns. No real injuries—except for the ones your damn officers gave me.” He leaned in, stopping just a breath away. “Tell me, Sergeant. Who ordered this?”

  Kelly’s pale blue eyes didn’t waver. Her expression was unreadable.

  Tom scoffed, stepping back. “You’re being played, too.”

  Kelly exhaled, shaking her head. “And you? You’re not much of a player, Captain.” She patted his shoulder as she passed him.

  Tom turned back to the corpse. His gaze flicked to the visible wound on its back—a deep gash, ugly even through the burns. “What’s the actual cause of death?”

  Kelly shrugged. “Stabbed first, then burned. Or burned alive after being stabbed. ME’s still figuring it out.”

  Tom let out a humorless chuckle. “Good. Very good.”

  He pulled the sheet back over the body, but before covering the face, he studied it one last time.

  Then—

  A flicker. A shimmer in the air.

  It was gone instantly, but the cold it left behind burrowed deep into his bones.

  His breath hitched. “Did you see that?”

  Kelly frowned. “See what?”

  Tom hesitated, then shook his head. “Shit. That pig really did a number on me.”

  Kelly’s eyes narrowed. “You’re looking more and more like our guy!” She turned, walking for the door. “Hiding won’t help.”

  Tom followed her out. The steel door hissed shut behind them.

  A sharp light stabbed at his head, making him wince. He rubbed his temple, but the chill from the morgue clung to him like unseen fingers trailing down his spine.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Sergeant, lend me your jacket?”

  Kelly snorted. “Shameless.”

  “And a coffee,” he added, flashing a grin.

  Her eyes widened slightly before she scoffed. “Urghhh— UNBELIEVABLE!”

  ________________

  The hallway was alive with the quiet hum of the hospital—the distant beeping of machines, the soft shuffle of shoes against linoleum. The vending machines near the elevator glowed faintly, their buzzing filling the empty space.

  Tom leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as Kelly shoved coins into the coffee machine.

  “You know,” she muttered, pressing the button, “most people say please when they ask for something.”

  Tom smirked. “Please.”

  Kelly handed him the cup. “Too late. You’re already on my list.”

  He raised a brow. “What list?”

  “The ‘People Who Owe Me’ list. You’re at the top.”

  Tom chuckled, lifting the coffee in a mock toast. “I’ll buy you a drink sometime.”

  “Nope. I want answers.”

  Tom exhaled, shaking his head as he took a sip. The steam curled up to warm his face.

  Kelly tilted her head, watching him. “Seriously though, you should shave or shower for that fact. You look like SHIT! When’s the last time you got real sleep?”

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  “Sleep’s overrated.”

  “So is whatever bullshit you’re pulling,” she muttered. “And yet, here I am, buying you coffee.”

  Tom grinned. “See? You do care.”

  Kelly rolled her eyes, about to reply—

  The air shifted around him. The vending machine’s hum dulled. The hallway noise faded into an unnatural silence.

  Tom felt it before he heard it. A presence. A weight pressing against his ears. Faint but unmistakable came the voice—soft. Cold. Close.

  "Tom..."

  His body locked up.

  The coffee cup slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Liquid splashed across his slippers, but he barely noticed. His breath came short. Eyes darted left, right—searching.

  Nothing.

  Kelly frowned, stepping back, “What the fuck?”

  Tom forced a shaky breath, then smiled, too forced, too stiff. “Shit! It’s just my head.” He pressed a hand against the bandage.

  Kelly’s skepticism deepened. “You sure you’re okay?”

  Tom swallowed. “Peachy.”

  He bent down, picking up the cup. His hands were steady, but his mind was racing. He threw the cup on a nearby dustbin. He muttered under his breath, “Time to meet an old friend, I guess.”

  “What?” Kelly asked. Tom shook his head.

  Kelly sighed, “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

  They walked toward the elevator in silence.

  A familiar voice called out behind them as they waited for the elevator.

  “Leaving already?”

  Tom turned, his gaze locking onto Erik’s gray eyes. The corners of Erik’s mouth curved into a knowing smirk. Tom exhaled, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

  “I wish I could take it easy, bro,” he said, his voice edged with exhaustion.

  The elevator chimed softly, doors sliding open with a mechanical hush. Erik gave a lazy wave, and Tom nodded in thanks. He stepped inside, Kelly right behind him. The cold white walls of the elevator seemed to press in on him. The scent of bleach and diarrhea clung to the air—suffocating.

  Neither of them spoke as the elevator descended. The hum of the machinery filled the silence, the steady whirring a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Tom’s head.

  When the doors slid open, they stepped into the hospital’s lobby. The space was alive with quiet urgency—nurses pushing gurneys down the halls, families speaking in hushed voices, the distant beep of heart monitors mingling with the occasional cry of a child. Overhead, the fluorescent lights cast everything in an unnatural, sterile glow.

  Then came the hiss of the automatic doors and, with it, a rush of cool evening air.

  Tom stepped outside, inhaling deeply. The late autumn air carried the crisp bite of fallen leaves and the faint scent of damp stone. The city beyond stretched out before him bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun. Gothic spires loomed in the distance, their dark silhouettes cutting through the amber sky. The cobblestone streets shimmered in the fading light, and leaves swirled around his feet like embers caught in the wind.

  For a fleeting moment, everything felt… softer. Gentler. A world that might have been peaceful if only he could bring himself to believe it.

  Kelly followed close behind, the jingle of her keys breaking the quiet evening. “Car’s this way,” she said, nodding toward the lot. Her voice was its usual calm and professional, but there was something else beneath it. Not quite concern—more like mild irritation, maybe. Tom wasn’t sure, nor did he care.

  The air was crisp, laced with the scent of dew-soaked pavement and lingering exhaust fumes. Their footsteps crunched against the gravel as they walked. Tom exhaled slowly, his breath fogging up in the cool evening air. The golden glow of streetlights flickered against the hospital’s glass fa?ade, casting long, distorted shadows that stretched across the lot.

  Kelly’s car—a sleek, unmarked ?koda sedan—was parked near the edge. She clicked the key fob, and the headlights blinked in response. Tom paused just before getting in, glancing back at the hospital. The windows glowed dimly, like watchful eyes peering down at them.

  “You getting in, or do you need a formal invitation?” Kelly asked, already sliding into the driver’s seat.

  Tom sighed and dropped into the passenger seat. The car smelled of stale coffee and gun oil, a familiar mix that did little to calm his nerves. The leather seat creaked as he leaned back, resting his head against the window. His reflection in the window looked more haggard than he cared to admit, “How can I ever get tired of seeing my handsome face?”

  Kelly started the engine, the low purr blending with the distant murmur of city traffic. “You should see a psychiatrist.” She merged onto the narrow cobblestone street, “Headquarters?”

  Tom gave a slow nod. “Can’t get enough of my own company.”

  Kelly snorted, maneuvering onto the main road. “Right. Or maybe you just like seeing yourself in the interrogation mirror.”

  Tom groaned, rubbing his temples. “Yeah, well. There’s already a shrink poking around in my head.”

  Kelly’s eyes flicked toward him. “Good. You need one. You look like you’re one bad day away from talking to lampposts.”

  Tom smirked. “Not true. I’d talk to pigeons first. More engaging conversation.”

  She chuckled, merging onto a bridge spanning the Vltava River. The Charles Bridge loomed in the distance, its Gothic statues standing like silent sentinels against the night. Below, the river reflected the glow of streetlamps and neon signs from the Old Town.

  They drove in comfortable silence for a while, the hum of the tires a steady backdrop. Tom broke the silence. “So, the pig… where’s he?”

  Kelly sighed, shifting gears as they weaved through traffic. “Still unconscious in the hospital.” She cast him a sideways glance. “That was slick, though.”

  Tom smirked. “Thanks. Want some pointers?”

  Kelly shrugged. “Why bother when I can just tase them from a safe distance?”

  He chuckled. “Valid.”

  She grinned. “Though, gotta give Monroe credit. He actually used his gun properly for once. If you turn out to be a pyromaniac, I might nominate him for a medal.”

  Tom snorted. “Yeah, sure. But if he spent less time shoving donuts in his face and more time doing his job, he wouldn’t have to resort to assaulting people.”

  Kelly let out a short laugh. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll probably arrest you for ‘defamation of character.’”

  “Defamation implies there’s a character to defame,” Tom shot back. “Monroe’s about as honorable as a thrift store salesman.”

  Kelly shook her head, still grinning. “You’re not wrong. But hey, at least he’s consistent. Consistently terrible.”

  Tom sighed. “How the hell does he still have the job?”

  Kelly tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully. “Being terrible?”

  “Nah,” Tom shook his head. “Ten pounds bet he sold his ass.”

  “Or boobs,” Kelly added, smirking.

  The banter eased some of the tension in Tom’s chest. It almost felt normal for a moment—like they were just two colleagues shooting the breeze after a long shift. But then Kelly’s tone softened just enough for him to notice.

  “Seriously, though, Captain.” She kept her eyes on the road, but her fingers tightened around the wheel. “Despite your stupid mug, I hope you’re innocent.”

  Tom turned to her with a shit-eating grin. “Oh, Kel, my dear. You’re already falling for my charm.”

  Kelly’s face scrunched up immediately. “Fuck you.”

  Tom nudged the radio. “Sorry, not into muscle mummies.”

  That earned him a solid smack to the back of his head.

  “Insubordination!” he declared.

  Kelly sped up. “Not before I throw you in jail.”

  Tom leaned against the window, watching the blurred cityscape flash past. The winding streets of Prague’s Old Town were lined with baroque buildings, their pastel facades glowing under the streetlights. Trams rumbled in the distance, and the distant chatter of late-night pedestrians filtered through the glass.

  The car jolted slightly over a pothole, and Tom instinctively glanced at the rearview mirror—

  His breath hitched.

  For a split second, he saw eyes. A pair of pale, ghostly eyes staring back at him from the reflection. Hollow. Piercing.

  His heart slammed against his ribs. He whipped around, scanning the backseat.

  Nothing.

  Just empty leather seats.

  “Tom?” Kelly’s voice cut through the silence.

  He turned back, his fingers gripping his knee. “Yeah. Just... thought I saw something.”

  Kelly flicked her eyes to the mirror, then over her shoulder. “You’re jumpier than a cat in a dog park. Maybe take a nap before you start screaming at shadows.”

  Tom forced a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Maybe I—”

  He glanced at the mirror again.

  The eyes were still there.

  “Fuck!” Tom jolted upright, twisting in his seat.

  Kelly slammed the brakes and pulled over, her expression snapping to full alert. “What the hell?”

  Tom’s breath came in shallow gasps. He pointed toward the backseat, his voice low. “I swear—”

  Kelly stayed calm. “What did you see?”

  His hands trembled as he wiped them over his face.

  Kelly grabbed a water bottle from the cup holder, thrusting it at him. “Take a breath.”

  Tom hesitated, then took the bottle, drinking a few sips. The cold water grounded him, but his mind still reeled.

  Kelly studied him, then reached into the glove compartment. “Here,” she said, tossing him an energy bar. “Maybe you’re just hangry.”

  Tom let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

  He unwrapped the bar and took a bite, chewing mechanically. The taste of chocolate and oats was bitter in his mouth. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

  “Wake me when we get there.”

  As the car pulled back onto the road, Tom let the hum of the engine lull him into a restless doze.

  But in the darkness of his mind, the pale eyes lingered. Watching.