She rubbed her eyes and yawned heavily, the fatigue threatening to overwhelm her as she walked down the creaky basement steps.
Anna was tired, exhausted even, and the half-empty cup of coffee in her hand did little to energise her.
She had been awake all night and was just about to sleep when her phone rang, summoning her to work.
Her steps were sluggish, and she considered returning to her car to drive for more coffee, but as soon as she walked into the crime scene, her entire system jolted awake.
The bunker was large and spherical, and the ceiling was slightly above the ground.
The dim fluorescent lights cast shadows against the walls as different men in uniform moved around the room, taking photos, bagging items, collecting samples, and having muted discussions with each other.
The entire space was meticulously organised, almost clinical in its tidiness.
A small cot was tucked in one corner; in another corner, textbooks, notes, and stencils of all kinds were scattered on a desk.
In front of it stood a whiteboard with equations that seemed highly complex, at least to her.
Behind her, the bunker's door stood imposingly, solid and impenetrable; all around her was the faint scent of stale air tinged with rusted metal, and right in front of her in the centre of the bunker, the body lay sprawled on the floor.
The victim's lifeless form was face down with a solemn look on his face, and his limbs were splayed awkwardly.
One hand was outstretched as if he had tried to reach for something, and protruding from his back was the hilt of a long blade.
A slight shiver went down Anna's spine.
"Backstabbed," a voice behind her said. "Literally stabbed in the back."
"It's four in the morning, Mark," Anna said, without turning. "How are you energetic enough to make jokes?"
"Someone didn't get any sleep again, I see," Mark replied as he stepped to stand beside her.
She only sighed in response as she passed him her now-empty coffee cup, then bent over to closely inspect the body.
"The forensics team hasn't touched the body. I specifically told them to wait for you to get here and see it before they do anything."
Anna looked up and arched her brow curiously.
"Why?" she asked.
He placed the coffee cup on the nearby table and bent beside her.
"There's something really strange about this crime scene," he began. "The victim was found dead inside. But get this—"
Mark pointed to the door behind them.
"It was locked from the inside. It's the only way in or out, and when we got here, it was sealed shut. We had to get a team to force open the door. It took them two hours and a lot of effort. Then we found the body, and then I called you."
Anna frowned. "Who found the body?"
"We have no idea. The police received a call that a man had been 'murdered in a bunker.' They thought it was a prank, but they sent an officer to check it out. When he got here, the door was locked, and he couldn't get it open. Then they called us."
The detective's frown deepened as she turned her attention back to the body.
"I'm telling you, Anna, it's weird as hell. Police get a call about a murder. We get here and the bunker is locked. We force it open, and the victim is here, dead. Alone."
"The killer must have got away somehow," she said, holding his gaze as they stood up. She looked around the room, searching for another potential exit point.
"That's the kicker," Mark replied. "There's no sign anyone else was inside. We're still sweeping for prints, but it seems like he was all alone. It's almost as if he... did this to himself somehow."
They both look at the body.
Lifeless and cold, a knife sticking out from its back.
Anna's brow furrowed. "This looks nothing like a suicide."
"Not likely," Mark shook his head. "But there's no other explanation. No logical one, at least."
Anna was puzzled, and every trace of sleep had long vanished.
She couldn't shake the dread that crept under her skin.
She looked at Mark again for further explanation, but he shook his head.
Mark was a forensic analyst, and they had worked together on multiple cases since she became a senior detective. They had a professional relationship, and Anna really liked him.
His thorough and meticulous style complemented her direct and logical approach, and she loved that he never tried to take their relationship outside of the workplace.
"So," Mark prodded, breaking her thoughts. "What do you think? Creepy, isn't it?"
Anna turned and placed her two knuckles on the desk, taking in and letting out a deep breath.
"The only explanation is that we're missing something. Tell your guys to check everything again."
Mark frowned. "We've already done the routine checks. Nothing seems out of place."
Anna glanced at the body again.
Something was nagging at the back of her mind but she couldn't pick out what it was.
The fatigue had also begun to tug at her senses again.
"Inspect the knife for prints and allow your guys and the coroner's office to examine the body. I'm going home to sleep for a few hours. When I get to the office in the morning, my team and I will examine all the case files, and we'll make sense of it. Right now, I'm too tired to think straight."
She patted his shoulder and started to walk to the bunker door.
"Anna—"
"Don't worry about it, Mark," she replied over her shoulder. "We'll figure it out. It's just another case."
Anna leaned against her desk, exhaustion etched on her face as she scanned the files across her table.
She wasn't figuring it out.
She had worked hundreds of cases throughout her career, and this was nothing like the rest of them. Only the preliminary reports had come to her at that moment, but the early signs were not looking good.
Her team members had finally gathered in the office, each of them flipping through a case file.
"Okay guys, I hope we have better luck together than I've had so far," Anna said, her voice laced with frustration.
She placed her head on the table and sighed heavily before lifting it again.
"Let's start from the top and take it slow. What do we know so far, Lucie?"
"Victim's name is Franklin Hayes. College student in his senior year. He was studying physics and had ridiculously good grades. No close family in the area, or in the state. No family at all. No prior arrests. Never got into trouble. Nothing negative anywhere in this file. Just a brilliant guy as far as I can tell."
Anna nodded in response.
"What have you got, Steve?"
"The forensics report came back, and the only prints and DNA found at the scene belong to the victim. Same with the murder weapon. The coroner's report also came, and it confirmed that the victim died from his stab wounds."
"What else?" she asked, looking around the room.
"Franklin lived alone in the house," another team member, Zhen, said. "But it seems like the bunker was where he really stayed. He had personal belongings, clothes, and even food stocked in there."
"Nice house like that, and you choose to live in the basement—strange." Lucie remarked.
"He must have been paranoid," Steve replied, flipping through a report. "According to this, he recently had reported being 'followed' multiple times to the police, but they were all dismissed due to lack of serious evidence."
"So it's possible he did have a stalker, and now the stalker has killed him," Anna replied.
"It would explain why he was hiding out in the bunker," Lucie added.
"Yes, that's a possibility. What's weird, though, is that the most recent report was filed just two weeks ago, and his statement says here, and I quote, ‘I think he is going to kill me. I see him everywhere I go'. When the police asked him who he meant, he said, 'Maybe he's me'."
A quiet settled over the room.
"I mean," Zhen said, breaking the silence. "That brings up the suicide angle, yes?"
Anna gritted her teeth in response.
"Suicide doesn't make sense, Zhen. Unless he locked the door, stabbed himself in the back, then called the police to report it."
"Did he have a history of any mental health issues? Or was he on any strong medication?" Steve asked.
"No. Not as far as I can tell. There's nothing like that. The stalker angle is the most probable, but who would have it out for a nerdish college kid?"
No response.
"About the anonymous call the police received." Lucie picked another file and handed it over to Anna. "The voice was distorted and the call barely lasted 10 seconds. Even more creepy, the call came from the victim's phone."
"What?" Anna asked.
The confusion was clearly etched on her face as she collected the file and scanned through it.
Steve cleared his throat.
"I think it's quite obvious what happened. The victim had someone else with him in the bunker, someone he trusted, maybe a friend. The person killed him, wiped away their prints, and, for whatever reason, called the police to know where they would find the body."
"So how do you explain the door being locked from the inside when the police got there?" Lucie asked. "There's no other way in or out. If someone had killed him and then left, the door would not have been locked shut from the inside, even if it was closed from the outside."
"Not unless the door has a deadbolt installed," Zhen said.
"The analysis Tom sent me this morning said that those types of bunkers don't come with deadbolts installed," Anna replied.
"Yes," Zhen agreed. "But according to Franklin's financial records, it says here that last week he paid for a deadbolt installation. He also ordered the knife that was eventually used to kill him."
"Wait, last week?" Lucie asked, frowning in confusion. "That's not possible."
"Why?" Anna asked, hope laced in her voice.
"The victim wasn't in town last week. He left on a class visit. He wasn't even in the state," she replied, walking over to her boss again. "This is the statement his class professor gave to the police earlier this morning."
"Well, that's really odd, because this invoice from the bunker company says that ‘client paid in cash for the full installation of a type C steel deadbolt,'" Zhen replied.
Steve scoffed loudly. "If he was out of town, then how was he able to pay in person and in cash?"
The room trailed into another silence.
Anna sighed and reclined in her chair as she massaged her temples.
Something in this case was difficult to make sense of. One missing piece that would put everything together.
Maybe answer all the questions too.
She waited for someone to say something, anything, but her team remained silent.
"Looks like we're dealing with a professional here," Zheng said. "This was heavily premeditated. The deadbolt. Murder weapon. Call to the police. And this has to have been done by someone who knew our victim very well. Well enough to impersonate him."
"But who could it be?" Lucie asked. "A classmate? An old friend? A family member we don't know of?"
"Himself..." Steve trailed off.
Everyone in the room turned to look at him and he shrugged.
"I mean, think about it," he said. "He was convinced someone was after him. Let's assume this person was also responsible for the knife and the deadbolt, and also the murder and phone call. Who else could know the victim that well to pull it off? He didn't seem to have any close friends. And how else do you explain him being in two places at once? All I'm saying is, we need to start thinking out of the box."
"That's a reach, Steve. Even for you." Lucie said, rolling her eyes.
"No, I think he has a point," Zhen added. "Franklin Hayes was a brilliant kid. Probably had a troubled childhood, seeing as he grew up with no parents. This could all be some twisted, suicide death guised up as murder. Maybe his final act was to play some crazy game?"
"But he's dead," Lucie deadpanned. "So what does he stand to gain?"
Zhen raised his hands in mock surrender. "We're thinking outside the box, okay? Clearly nothing about this case is inside the box."
Anna huffed in frustration.
"Let's just keep working, guys. Lucie talk to the policemen that inspected the scene again to see if they missed anything. Also talk to the officers that interviewed the vic when he made his stalker reports. Zhen, go talk to some of Franklin's classmates and find out if he had any enemies or problems with anybody. Steve, your double-identity suicide-murder angle is a ridiculous reach, but I'm getting desperate, so dig deep and find out if there's something there or if the victim had any mental issues."
They all nodded as they received their instructions.
"Someone please find me something solid to work with!"
Anna waited until they had all left her office before she let out a deep breath she didn't know she was holding.
She was so nervous and she didn't know why.
The nagging feeling in her chest still bugged her.
She had hoped that sleep and going over the case with her team would help ease her mind, but it only left her more confused.
None of it made sense to her, but she was determined to figure it out.
Sooner or later.
Three weeks had passed since the murder of Franklin Hayes and Anna and her team were no closer to solving the case or making any breakthrough.
Social media has gone into a frenzy since the details were revealed to the public and conspiracy theorists had started to come up with crazy theories about the case.
Anna was ashamed to admit that she had spent a few late-night hours watching some of those videos, hoping for something useful.
She hadn't found anything.
She was frustrated, to say the least.
No case had ever left her feeling as helpless and incompetent as this.
They had conducted multiple interviews, tests, and reports; scoured the crime scene numerous times; and gone through the case files repeatedly, yet they had nothing: no suspects, no motive, and no further angles to explore.
The department was starting to consider closing the case as a viable option.
It would be her first unsolved case, and the thought of having that on her record pained her more than she liked to admit.
About a month later after the murder, she was leaving her office on a late night, packing her belongings into her bag when there was an urgent knock on her door.
It was Lucie, and her face was pale.
"Um, boss, you're going to want to see this," she said.
"What is it Lucie? Are you okay?"
"I think it's best you come see for yourself. He's in the lobby."
"Who's in the lobby, Lucie?" Anna asked, but she had left.
Anna frowned in confusion as she picked up her bag. She closed the door behind her, and it echoed slightly across the hallway.
The building was almost empty and it was a little past midnight.
As she walked towards the lobby, her mind raced with different scenarios as to who would have left Lucie looking so shell-shocked, but the last thing she expected was to see Franklin Hayes seated on a chair, alive and amused at the look of utter shock on her face.
"Detective Anna Patrick," he said, standing up and stretching out his hand to her. "As beautiful as ever. Younger too."
Anna could hear her heart pounding against her chest.
Her hands started to tremble, but she took in a quick breath and tried to regain her composure.
She was surprised she could even speak.
"You're..."
"Franklin Hayes. In the flesh." He said, withdrawing his hand and putting it in his pocket.
The smug look he gave her confirmed that he was saying the truth.
She studied his features.
He was a bit bigger than he was when he was lying on the autopsy table, and he now had a full beard, but she was sure he was the one.
She had seen countless photos of him in the past three weeks to know that the man standing in front of her was their murder victim.
Or was he? This man looked exactly like him, but he had this air of confidence and arrogance around him, two things Franklin Hayes was not known for.
He also looked much older.
What the hell is going on, she thought.
"How do you know who I am?" she asked, choosing her words carefully.
She hoped that she sounded calmer than she felt.
"Let's just say we have a bit of… history. In the future," he replied, a small, knowing smile on his lips.
He was clearly enjoying her discomfort and Anna hated that she was giving him the satisfaction.
"The future?"
"Yes. Some twenty years from now."
"Okay...."
She waited for him to elaborate. He didn't.
"Why are you here… Franklin?"
He sighed loudly.
"You see, detective. I've gotten myself into a bit of a… dilemma. And I need your help."
"My help?"
"Yes, that's precisely what I said."
She glared at him.
"My help with what?"
He smiled.
"You'll know in due time, detective. But first, I need you to arrest me."
"For what?" Anna asked.
He stood up and joined his hands together at the wrist.
"For the murder of Franklin Hayes. For killing myself."
Fun fact - This was one of the first stories I ever wrote. Decided to re-share it today.
Think I view it more as a potential prologue than a short story but yeah.
Broo... How does your mind work?
This is amazing
Okayyyyy...At the start, I was like...psst, cliche....As I neared the end, I realized how wrong I was. I am arresting you pursuant to section 100 of laws I just made up. You have committed the crime of piquing my interest with this beautiful masterpiece and leaving me confused, surprised and most importantly, blown away. ðŸ˜