Dark Alley Chapter 6 A Second Corpse, A Growing Threat

　　One week later, Jenna arrived at the office to devastating news: Raymond Cole had been found dead inside his private Mercedes. The murder method mirrored Ethan Hale's killing perfectly. The killer had smashed the car window, split Raymond's skull open with a heavy blade, and hacked seven deep wounds across his torso.

　　Detective Elias Voss had spent months chasing Ethan's murderer, yet the case had stalled cold, teetering on becoming an unsolved cold case. At the scene of Raymond's murder, uniformed officers discovered large, muddy boot prints far bigger than an average man's shoe size. Forensic techs reconstructed the sole tread pattern digitally, confirming the killer wore heavy work boots.

　　Investigators tracked the boot prints down a residential side street until they vanished completely. The trail died out right as the killer's identity was about to surface, snuffing out their last solid lead.

　　Jenna locked herself in the office restroom to practice a mournful, grief-stricken expression in the mirror. She grabbed a bouquet of fresh apples and white lilies, slumping her shoulders to feign sorrow, and drove to the psychiatric ward to visit Mia. The sun blazed brilliant overhead, the hospital lawn a vivid, lush green that looked almost edible beneath the light.

　　She perched on the edge of Mia's hospital bed and peeled an apple with a small paring knife. Mia only giggled vacantly to herself; when Jenna spoke to her, she replied with disjointed, nonsensical ramblings that held no logic.

　　Jenna held the peeled fruit out to her, and Mia snatched it away to bite into it greedily. Staring at the once-stunning woman before her—now disheveled, lost in endless empty laughter—Jenna felt a flicker of hollow remorse. She wiped fake tears from her cheeks and wandered aimlessly out of the hospital.

　　The moment she stepped onto the sidewalk, that familiar cold, watchful gaze settled on her back again. It had lingered constantly ever since she'd begun her affair with Raymond, paired with that unearthly cackling. Jenna knew this was no ghost. Whatever hunted her drew blood, far more terrifying than any phantom spirit. A thick, suffocating aura of death hung thick in the air around her.

　　She quickened her pace, diving into crowded pedestrian streets. Only surrounded by strangers did the cold stare and hideous noise fade away. But Jenna could not hide among crowds forever; eventually, dusk fell, and she had to head home alone.

　　She crossed a wide avenue, distracted, and accidentally collided with a woman walking the opposite way. Jenna sputtered repeated apologies, but the stranger stood firm, blocking her path without moving an inch.

　　Jenna lifted her head, and her blood ran cold. The woman standing before her was Elaine Cole—Raymond's legal wife. The street stretched wide and empty around them, suddenly a stage for their bitter confrontation.

　　"You shameless hussy!" Elaine snarled, her well-maintained face crumpling into an ugly, furious mask. "You seduce another woman's husband and have the gall to walk around without shame?"

　　"Can't keep your own man tied down, so you come screaming at me?" Jenna shot back, rage flaring hot in her chest. "If you had half the charm, he wouldn't have looked elsewhere."

　　Insults flew back and forth, sharp and vicious. Before long, fists started flying. One slap landed hard across Elaine's cheek; Jenna received two in return. They kicked and scratched at each other, rolling on the pavement—until Jenna suddenly went rigid, her face draining to ashen white. Her eyes locked on something far behind Elaine's head, unblinking and terrified.

　　Elaine seized the chance while Jenna stood frozen, landing a brutal open-handed blow across her jaw.

　　Jenna still did not fight back. Her pupils blew wide with pure terror, and Elaine twisted her torso to glance over her shoulder. Before she could fully turn, something sharp drove deep into her spine. A burst of icy cold seared her neck, and her airway clamped shut instantly. She crumpled to the pavement, eyes bulging with unfiltered horror, and went still forever.

　　Jenna let loose a piercing scream and sprinted straight to the police station, spilling every chaotic detail of the attack. "I never saw their face—they stood nearly six foot three, covered head-to-toe in black, holding an axe. Their hands were hidden beneath layers of fabric."

　　The stalled murder investigation surged back to life with Elaine's brutal slaying. The elusive killer's mask was about to slip, their identity moments from being exposed. Everyone on the force shared the same grim suspicion: before the murderer is caught, one more life will be claimed. And the most obvious target standing in their crosshairs was Jenna Reed.