Dark Alley-Chapter 7 The Abduction in the Psychiatric Ward

　　Masked in a janitor's disposable face covering, Todd Wells pushed open the door to Room 205 of Greenfield Psychiatric Hospital.

　　A young nurse was tending to Mia Carter's bandages. Blinding midday sunlight flooded the room through the open window, thick medical antiseptic hanging heavy in the air. Mia lay curled in a deep sedative sleep. The nurse was in an unusually light mood that morning, and she struck up casual chat with the unfamiliar cleaner mopping the floor.

　　"Where are you from? How long have you worked here? I swear I've never seen you before."

　　Todd kept his head bowed, sweeping the tiles slowly. "I moved here from out of state only a few days ago. I'm still new—hope you'll cut me some slack."

　　Once the nurse finished changing Mia's dressings, she headed back to the pharmacy. A strange, unplaceable unease pricked at the back of her mind, yet she brushed it off and laughed alongside her fellow staff members.

　　The second her footsteps vanished down the corridor, Todd lifted his massive fist and slammed three brutal blows straight into Mia's temple. He wrapped her tightly in the ward's thick quilt, hoisted her unconscious body onto his back, and slipped out through the staff-only exit, stepping onto the quiet city street.

　　Later, when the nurse returned to check on Mia per her schedule, she grumbled to herself about the careless janitor leaving the patient's door wide open. She pushed the door inward—and froze cold to the bone. Mia was gone. The quilt was missing entirely. Only the janitor's grimy trash bin sat abandoned in the corner.

　　Panic seized the nurse. She sprinted to report the disappearance to the hospital director, and word spread across every ward within minutes. The director dialed the police at once.

　　Detective Elias Voss mobilized his team instantly, issuing city-wide wanted flyers and blocking every highway, train station and bus terminal leading out of town. No fugitive, no matter how cunning, could slip through such a tight dragnet—Voss felt certain the killer's capture was only hours away.

　　Witnesses supplied clear descriptions of the suspect, and officers tracked Todd's trail all the way to the suburban outskirts, lined with sleek, upscale residential buildings and blooming flower beds glinting under the sun. Police set up tight surveillance rings and launched a grid search covering every inch of the neighborhood where the suspect had vanished.

　　Voss paced the streets, wracking his brain in frustration. Time and again, the murderer had slipped away right under his watchful eyes. He scanned the landscape—rows of homes, manicured gardens, empty pavement—nothing seemed capable of hiding a grown man and an unconscious woman. His gaze dropped to a rusted metal manhole cover, and a sudden realization crashed over him. Fresh mud coated the metal edges, clear proof it had been pried open recently. Distinct boot prints, unlike standard police footwear, led straight to the spot.

　　Voss drew his service pistol, flicked on a flashlight, and climbed down into the stinking sewer tunnel. The putrid stench of rot and sewage washed over him. A few yards ahead lay the hospital quilt, wrapped around Mia's limp form. Beside her rested Todd's murder toolkit: a heavy axe, sharp hunting knives, the ghoulish rubber mask, mud-caked tall work boots, and his still-dry janitor uniform.

　　Voss trudged through thick muck deeper into the tunnel, but Todd had vanished without a trace. He rushed back to the ladder, ordered officers to rush Mia to a general hospital for emergency care, and dispatched additional units to comb the entire sewer system, locking down every underground exit. By nightfall, there was still no sign of the fugitive.