As dusk began to slowly swallow the remnants of daylight, I found myself behind the wheel, driving towards Luke's house. The words of my grandmother echoed incessantly in my mind, creating a thick fog of disbelief that seemed to cloud my thoughts. Luke has to know something about Killerton Enterprises and the missing persons. I'm certain of it. This conviction, this certainty that Luke would provide me with answers, drove me forward, despite the turmoil churning inside me.

Pulling off the highway, I began the steady climb up Berriedale Road. The winding road, lined with its mix of shadows and the last glimmers of twilight, felt almost symbolic of the murky path the investigation had taken. My eyes were drawn to the rippling physique of a figure jogging along the road. In the dimming light, his struggle against the steep incline seemed almost metaphorical, mirroring my own battle with the complexities of the case.

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself, watching him battle with the gradient of the road. There was a certain amusement in witnessing his determination, a brief moment of levity in an otherwise tense and fraught day. However, as the car got a little closer, a startling realisation dawned on me. The man's ass became a little too familiar.

"Shit!" The word escaped my lips as I made a sharp left turn down a side street, narrowly avoiding passing the jogger who had suddenly come into clear view. My heart pounded with a mix of surprise and confusion. I slowed the car, bringing it to a halt a little further down the road, out of immediate sight.

What the hell is Karl doing out here? The question echoed in my mind. This is nowhere near his house. Where’s his car? And why is he dressed all in black?

My mind raced with possibilities, theories forming and dissolving with each passing second. And then, an unwelcome thought crossed my distracted mind, a possibility I didn't want to entertain. "No," I whispered softly to myself, the words barely audible. "He can't be on his way to Luke's." The implication of Karl being involved in this way was unsettling. It was a connection I wasn’t prepared to make, a link that could complicate everything.

With a sense of urgency, I inched the car further up the road, ensuring I remained hidden from the main road. I didn’t want Karl to spot me and become alerted to my presence. The process of finding a suitably obscure parking space took what felt like an eternity, heightening my anxiety. Once the car was parked, I realised I had no choice but to jog back the way I'd driven. I had to make sure I didn't lose Karl.

As I jogged, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The implications of Karl being here, in close proximity to Luke’s house, were too significant to ignore. It suggested a level of involvement or knowledge that I hadn’t considered before. My role as a detective demanded that I follow this lead, to uncover the truth, no matter how personal or difficult it might be. But as I followed Karl’s path, a part of me dreaded what I might find, what secrets might be revealed. This investigation, already deeply intertwined with my personal life, seemed to be taking yet another unexpected turn, drawing me deeper into a web of complex relationships and hidden truths.

As I squinted up the road into the growing darkness, my eyes strained to spot any sign of Karl. But there was nothing – he had vanished into the night. My heart began racing, pounding against my chest with a mixture of anxiety and determination. There was only one direction to go from where I had turned off, and that was up. So, where the hell is he? Did he see me? The questions spun in my head as I tried to make sense of his sudden disappearance. My eyes darted all around, scrutinising every shadow cast by the trees, twitching at every rustle and sound in the quiet of the evening.

Not knowing where Karl had parked his car, and without any clear idea of where he might have been heading, I took cover behind a large gum tree as a car approached from the top of the hill. My heart skipped a beat, unsure if this new vehicle had anything to do with Karl’s disappearance or if it was just a local returning home.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts and allow my eyes to adjust to the dimming light. I carefully stole a peek from behind the tree. The car's headlights sliced through the darkness, and for a brief moment, illuminated the outline of a tall man still jogging towards the peak. A wave of relief washed over me. There he is.

My relief was quickly replaced by a renewed sense of urgency. I knew I needed to keep Karl in sight, to understand why he was here and where he was heading. This was more than just following a colleague; it was about piecing together a puzzle that was becoming increasingly personal and complex. As the car passed and the darkness enveloped the road again, I prepared to move out from my hiding spot and continue tailing Karl, all the while wondering what I would discover at the end of this pursuit.

Continuing to stalk Karl as he began to disappear over the crest of the hill, I maintained a careful distance. It was becoming increasingly clear that we were headed towards what I assumed to be Luke's house. Every step felt weighted with a mix of professional duty and personal apprehension.

After some time, Karl stopped abruptly and looked around. His sudden pause sent a jolt of panic through me, forcing me to make a hasty decision. In a split second, I leapt over the small, white fence of the nearest house, grimacing as I landed in a carefully mulched flowerbed. The perfectly spaced kangaroo paws bore the brunt of my intrusion, one unfortunate plant getting flattened under my foot like a small rodent under a tire. "Sorry," I whispered apologetically to the broken plant, feeling a pang of guilt for the minor destruction in my wake.

Turning my attention back to Karl, I strained to see him in the growing evening darkness. The distance and rows of houses between us made it difficult, but I could still make out his distinctive frame. He was crouched in the bushes along the native land that sprawled across the road from what I presumed to be Luke Smith's house. What is he doing? The question echoed in my mind as I watched Karl shift his weight around in the bushes, seemingly trying to find a comfortable position for... whatever he was doing.

My mind was racing with possibilities. Was Karl conducting his own investigation into Luke, or was there something more to his actions? The ambiguity of the situation was frustrating. There I was, crouched in someone's garden, spying on my colleague, and still unsure of his motives or his connection to Luke Smith.

I knew I had to be patient, to wait and watch, despite the discomfort and the risk of being spotted. The answers I sought were tantalisingly close, yet shrouded in the complexities of the case and the fading light. As Karl continued to adjust his position in the bushes, I remained hidden, vigilant and ready to act on whatever unfolded. This night, with its cloak of darkness and air of mystery, felt like it held the key to understanding the tangled web of connections that had brought me here.

"Crap!" I muttered under my breath, barely audible, as a blue Holden pulled into the driveway beside me. The last thing I needed was to be caught trespassing. The front passenger side door opened with a dull click, and someone clambered out. I could only assume they would not be particularly pleased to find a stranger crouching in their flowerbeds.

Reacting swiftly, I rolled along the fence line, a sense of urgency propelling my movements. My heart raced with a mix of adrenaline and guilt as I flattened several more kangaroo paws in my hasty retreat. Finally, I found myself pushing my way behind a short wall of pittosporums, their dense foliage offering a makeshift hiding spot. I waited there, holding my breath, as the young family made their way indoors, blissfully unaware of the terrified police officer concealed in their shrubbery.

From my hiding place, I watched as lights flicked on in various rooms of the house, streams of light pouring through the as yet unclosed curtains. My position was rapidly becoming untenable. I was hidden from some angles, but alarmingly exposed to the master bedroom. If anyone looked out of the window, I would be unmistakably visible.

But how do I get out? The question echoed in my mind, a desperate search for options. If I stayed put, someone in the house was bound to see me. Yet, if I attempted to jump back over the fence, there was a good chance Karl would spot me, blowing my cover and possibly compromising the investigation.

I crouched there, weighing my options. The situation called for a quick decision, but each option seemed fraught with risk. I needed to maintain my surveillance on Karl without drawing attention to myself. The darkness of the evening was my only ally, offering some concealment as I considered my next move.

Torn between the risk of being seen by Karl or being spotted by the family, I found myself in a precarious situation. With a cautious movement, I turned my back to the house and peered out over the small fence, my heart pounding in anticipation. Karl's gone again! The realisation sent a wave of frustration through me. My eyes searched frantically in the ever-deepening darkness. The streetlights, few and far between, offered little assistance, casting long shadows that played tricks on my vision. Maybe he's moved himself further into the bushes, I considered, trying to reason out his next move.

Then, a sudden movement in the fringes of a streetlight's glare caught my attention. There he is! Relief mixed with renewed focus as I just about made out his hulking figure. Karl was sneaking along the property's side fence, quickly making his way towards the front driveway. Every muscle in my body tensed, ready to follow his lead while still maintaining a safe distance.

"What the hell are you doing, Karl?" I whispered into the cool, night air, more to myself than anyone else. "Did you see someone?" My whispered questions hung unanswered in the stillness of the night. The inky blackness around me gave no reply, no hint of what Karl’s intentions might be or who he could be pursuing.

I continued to watch, utterly gobsmacked, as Karl approached the front door of Luke's house. The sight was surreal – my colleague, someone I had worked alongside, now a central figure in this unfolding mystery. Moments later, he disappeared from view as he headed further behind the house. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing the urgency and gravity of the situation. I have to get out of the front yard and find out what on earth is going on, I thought, my mind racing with scenarios and possibilities.

Glancing behind me, I could see the young homeowners, whose land I was trespassing on, moving about in their bedroom. I felt a twinge of guilt for intruding in this manner, but the situation left me with little choice. Suddenly, a distraction from another room drew their attention away from the window. This was my moment.

Seizing the opportunity, I quickly launched myself back over the fence. A sharp sting of a splinter sliding into the pad of my hand was a minor inconvenience compared to the need to follow Karl. But my haste resulted in a less-than-graceful landing. I almost twisted my ankle and pain shot through my knee as it slammed hard into the concrete footpath.

Ignoring the surge of pain, I quickly gave my injuries a once-over. My knee throbbed, but fortunately, nothing was broken, and my trousers hadn’t torn. Confident that I hadn't caused myself any serious injury, I made a dash for the bushes that Karl had used for cover earlier.

Forgetting about my sore knee, I crouched down behind the bushes, ignoring the brief spike of pain that shot through my leg. The discomfort was a small price to pay for maintaining surveillance. Crouched there, the evening had turned into a high-stakes game of cat and mouse, and I was right in the thick of it.

My eyes scanned the area where Karl had disappeared, trying to catch a glimpse of him or to understand his intentions. The pain in my knee was a constant reminder of the physicality of the situation, but my focus remained sharp. I was determined to uncover what Karl was doing at Luke's house, to understand how all these pieces fit together. In the shadows behind the bushes, I braced myself for what I might discover, ready to face whatever secrets the night would unveil.

Minutes dragged by with no sign of Karl, and my anxiety grew with each passing second. My eyes remained permanently trained on the house, scanning for any movement or hint of Karl's presence. Worry gnawed at the edges of my mind, creating a whirlpool of apprehension and conjecture. He has to be heading for the broken window of the back corner room, I surmised, recalling the one I'd hurt myself on earlier in the week. Karl's behaviour had been increasingly obsessive about this place, and I couldn't help but fear he might be on the brink of doing something regrettable.

A sudden murmur of pain from my hand drew my attention away from the house. Glancing down, I noticed a small amount of blood beginning to seep through the cloth dressing the cut I'd sustained from the broken window. I must have aggravated the wound while jumping over the fence. I sighed wearily, the physical pain a stark reminder of the day's tumultuous events.

The light breeze rustling the leaves of the gum trees around my hiding spot and the bright crescent moon shining in the clear night sky offered a momentary sense of calm. But the tranquility of the environment starkly contrasted with my inner turmoil. Finally, driven by a blend of professional duty and personal concern, my curiosity got the better of me. I have to know what Karl is up to.

With a burst of determination, I darted out from my hiding place, following the same route I'd seen Karl take a few minutes earlier. Each step was careful yet swift, my injured knee throbbing in protest as I crouched and manoeuvred up the small embankment leading to the row of houses. It wasn’t long before I reached the back fence of Luke's house.

Standing at almost full height, I cautiously peered over the ageing, wooden fence. My heart pounded with anticipation and a hint of fear. What would I find? Was Karl merely conducting his own investigation, or was there something more sinister at play? As I looked over the fence, ready to confront whatever lay beyond, I knew that the answers I found could potentially alter the course of our investigation and have profound personal repercussions. The night, with all its secrets, seemed to hold its breath as I prepared to uncover the truth.

The fine hairs on my arms bristled to life, and my mouth dropped open in shock as the downstairs room lit up with a brief flash of colour. Just as quickly as it had burst into life, the light faded back into darkness, leaving a rather large man in its wake. A man who, I thought, had not been there before. I stared at the room in confusion, trying to make sense of what I’d just witnessed. Maybe he had always been there, I told myself, trying to rationalise the situation.

Either way, I knew this man was definitely not Karl. His silhouette was one I was very familiar with, and this figure did not match. I thought about calling out to warn Karl that he might be in danger, that he wasn't alone in the house, but I hesitated. Revealing my position could compromise both of us, and I wasn’t sure of the right course of action.

I watched as the man headed for the stairs. If Karl's in there, he’s about to get caught. My heart raced with the implications. I was torn between the urge to intervene and the need to maintain my cover. I knew that whatever decisions I made in the next few moments could have significant consequences.

Crouched behind the fence, I weighed my options. The situation was tense, a delicate balance of risk and necessity. I had to make a decision, and fast. The quiet of the night was deceptive, masking the high stakes of the unfolding drama.

"Answer your goddamn phone," I whispered urgently under my breath, a mix of frustration and concern colouring my tone as I attempted to call Karl. But it was to no avail. As soon as Karl's voicemail started, I hung up in an instant. The situation was too critical for voicemails; I needed to speak to him directly, and time was slipping away.

Unable to see the mystery man clearly enough to identify him from my vantage point, my mind raced with possibilities. He had to be one of the missing men, perhaps Luke himself. My fingers fumbled with the phone in a frantic rush as I searched for the contact, Luke Smith. If there was any chance that I could distract the man and buy Karl a few minutes to get out of the house safely, I knew I had to take it. With a sense of determination, I pressed the call button.

"Shit!" I cursed softly when the call went straight to voicemail. My heart pounded in my chest as desperation gripped me. I fought with my trembling fingers as I quickly searched for the next potential distraction, Jamie Greyson. Once more, I pressed the call button and held the phone to my ear, hoping for a connection this time.

After several rings, to my utter shock, the phone was answered. I recognised the voice immediately. "Karl!" I whispered sharply into the phone, my surprise momentarily overwhelming me. The unexpected sound of his voice threw me off balance. "You need to listen to me. You need to get out, right now!" I demanded, my voice trembling with fear. The realisation that Karl was potentially in immediate danger heightened my anxiety. I ended the call abruptly, knowing that every second mattered.

In that brief moment, a flurry of thoughts rushed through my mind. Karl’s unexpected presence on the other end of the line raised more questions. Was he in danger? Was he already inside the house? The implications were dire, and I knew I had to act quickly. As I crouched there, phone in hand, the urgency of the situation bore down on me. I needed to make a move, to ensure Karl’s safety while also maintaining my own cover.

Within seconds of ending the call, a confrontation erupted from upstairs in the house. The sounds were muffled, but unmistakably violent – a heavy thud, a shuffle, a clatter. My heart was pounding so fiercely I could almost hear it. Without wasting a moment, I followed the fence line, just as Karl had done, moving quickly yet stealthily towards the top of the driveway. As I neared the front door, there was one final, heavy thud, and then the house fell into an eerie silence that sent chills down my spine.

Ducking underneath the kitchen window, I paused, listening intently for any sounds from inside. The silence was almost more unnerving than the noise of the confrontation. Carefully, I peered over the window ledge, scanning the room. There was no sign of Karl or his attacker in the darkened house. Realising I needed a better vantage point, I ducked down and moved further along the wall.

Wincing in pain, I grabbed the top of the small fence, hoisting myself over to the other side. My feet landed heavier than I would have liked, sending a jolt of pain through my already battered body. The pain was a sharp reminder of the physical toll the night was taking on me.

Crouching down again, I cautiously approached the broken bedroom window. Every movement was calculated, trying to be as quiet as possible. Delicately climbing through, I was acutely aware of avoiding any further injuries. Once inside, I instinctively reached for my gun holster, only to remember, with a sinking feeling, that I had come unarmed. As my hand grasped aimlessly at the empty space where my gun should have been, a wave of vulnerability washed over me.

In the darkness of the room, my eyes slowly adjusted to my surroundings. The lack of light was disorienting, making the familiar act of navigating a room feel alien and dangerous. I stood still for a moment, allowing my senses to acclimate to the environment. I needed to be alert, ready for whatever lay ahead in the shadowy confines of the house. As I took a careful step forward, the darkness enveloped me, a stark contrast to the moonlit world outside.

Standing outside the toilet at the top of the hallway, I held my breath, straining my ears for any hint of movement. The house was engulfed in a thick, palpable silence that felt almost suffocating. Where's Karl? The question echoed in my head as the oppressive blackness began to worm its way into my psyche. A knot of fear tied itself in my gut, my internal organs feeling like they were dancing a jig of anxiety. As I slowly moved into the open hallway, passing the doorway of the master bedroom, my senses were on high alert.

Suddenly, two small eyes flashing in the darkness caught my attention. My heart skipped a beat. I gasped, pressing my back up against the wall. There's no way I haven't been seen, I thought, panic rising in my chest. Fear began to be replaced with waves of abject terror. In that moment, I desperately wished for a weapon, anything to feel less vulnerable.

Without any sort of protection, a troubling thought crossed my mind. Would I be safer if I surrendered? Disturbingly, I concluded that I would be. With a deep breath to steady my nerves, I turned into the master bedroom, holding my hands up to signify my intention to make peace. My sudden movement startled the eyes' owner, causing them to retreat further into the impenetrable darkness of the large room. "I'm unarmed. I come in peace," I whispered, inching my way further inside, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.

As the eyes blinked several times, a realisation hit me, washing over me with both relief and an acute sense of foolishness. It's just a bloody cat. My body relaxed slightly, though I remained alert and cautious. The tension of the night had primed me for danger at every turn, and it was almost comical that a cat had caused such a spike in my anxiety.

Still, I knew I couldn't let my guard down. Karl's whereabouts and intentions were still unknown, and the house held more secrets than just a skittish feline. I continued to navigate the room carefully, aware that real danger could still be lurking in the shadows.

I took a few cautious steps towards the animal, which responded with a guttural warning growl, a sound so unlike any cat I'd ever heard. "Stupid fucking possum!" I whispered under my breath, chastising myself for the earlier mix-up. The small creature, resting on the bed, eyed me warily.

Then, heavy footsteps echoed up the hallway, instantly snapping my attention back to the immediate threat. I froze where I stood, my heart racing. Is it Karl? Is it the other man? I can't tell, I thought to myself, a surge of fear washing over me. My detective instincts, usually so reliable, seemed to falter in the face of the unknown.

I relaxed slightly when I saw that it was Karl. He walked straight past the bedroom door, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to even glance in my direction. A wave of relief mixed with confusion washed over me. Why was he here? What was he looking for?

The possum let out another low growl as Karl trod on a piece of broken glass, crushing it beneath his foot with a sharp crunch. My eyes darted around the darkness, scanning for a potential hiding spot in case Karl decided to investigate the noise. I was painfully aware of my vulnerable position, unarmed and exposed. But, thankfully, he didn't come to check. He continued on his way, oblivious to my presence.

Making my way over to the large bedroom window, I carefully extended my hand towards the heavy curtains. With a gentle touch, I created the tiniest of gaps to peer through, cautious not to reveal my presence. The brightness of the moon outside was momentarily stunning, forcing me to look away as it blinded my eyes, which had grown accustomed to the darkness of the house. But that's not important right now, I thought to myself. I need to be certain that Karl leaves the property, and soon.

Gently rubbing my eyes to help them readjust, I turned back to the small gap in the curtains. Peering through, I caught sight of Karl again. There he is. I watched as he jumped over the high wooden backyard fence and crossed back over the road. My eyes followed his figure as he jogged down the street, tracking him for as far as the window allowed before he disappeared beyond sight. A sense of relief washed over me, mixed with a lingering curiosity about his actions.

"Well, that was lucky," I said aloud, the words directed at the only other living soul in the room – the possum. The small creature had been an unexpected companion in this tense situation. As I released the curtain, the room was once again plunged back into darkness.

Struck by a sudden realisation as I turned back into the room, my eyes widened in fear. There's still the unknown man. In my haste to spy on Karl, I'd completely forgotten about the second person in the house. How could I have been so careless? The thought of another unknown individual potentially lurking in the shadows sent a ripple of fear through me.

Creeping towards the doorway, I cautiously turned my ear to the hallway, straining to catch any sound. The silence was oppressive, once again cloaking the house in a fog of stillness that seemed almost unnatural. This is the perfect time to make an escape from the house, I reasoned with myself. But something held me back, a nagging curiosity about the other man. Was it Luke? I wondered. That was, after all, whom I had initially come to visit. The whole situation was baffling – a flash of bright colour and then the man had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

If the glass sliding door hadn't provided such an unobstructed view of the room inside, I might have easily dismissed the occurrence as just the light from a TV. But I saw it. Whatever it was. The memory played over and over in my mind, each time hoping I'd missed something, that a logical explanation would present itself and I could simply allow myself to go home. But no such luck.

As I stood there, grappling with my thoughts, a part of me wanted to investigate further, to uncover the identity of this mysterious figure. Yet, the rational side of me knew the risks were too high, especially unarmed and in an unfamiliar environment. Despite my training and instincts as a detective, the unknown elements of the situation put me at a distinct disadvantage.

The decision weighed heavily on me. My curiosity about the unknown man battled with the very real need to ensure my own safety. After a few tense moments of indecision, I knew I had to act. Whether it was to further investigate or to make a swift exit, remaining in the doorway, indecisive and exposed, was not an option. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I prepared to make my next move, knowing that the consequences of my choice could be significant.

Body tense and senses heightened, I stalked across the rest of the floor, meticulously checking each room as I went. My eyes scanned every corner, every possible hiding spot, but there was no sign of the other man. As I reached the top of the stairs, I paused to look down. The moonlight, streaming through the bare window, bathed the carpeted stairs in a pale, ghostly light, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance with each flicker of the leaves outside.

I descended a couple of steps, my footsteps careful and measured, before something peculiar caught my eye down by my feet. Crouching down, I gently rubbed my hand over a small hole in the wall. Plaster dust fell softly, settling into the carpet. Peering further down, I realised it wasn't just one isolated hole, but rather a series of them, punctuating every few steps. The pattern was unmistakable and chilling – it was easy to picture the events that had taken place on these stairs, a scuffle, perhaps, or something more sinister. At least now I know that Karl is unharmed, I thought, a small relief in the midst of uncertainty.

With extreme caution, I continued descending the stairs, each step a calculated movement. As I reached the bottom, I paused before taking the final step, surveying the area for any signs of movement or any indication of the mystery man's whereabouts. My heart beat rapidly in the oppressive silence, the kind of quiet that felt too heavy, too deliberate. It's too quiet, I thought to myself, a shiver running down my spine. Unnatural, almost.

The tension was palpable, and I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of not being alone in the house despite the silence. My mind raced with possibilities, with scenarios of what might have transpired in this house and what might still be waiting in the shadows. With a deep breath to steady my nerves, I prepared myself for the final step, ready to confront whatever or whoever awaited me, armed only with my wits and my determination to uncover the truth.

The carpet gave a slight squelch beneath my right boot as I cautiously stepped into the doorway from the stairs. The sound was unnerving, and I instinctively looked down. At the bottom of the doorframe, there was a large patch of dark liquid, a trail of it running down to meet the carpet. In the silver light of the moon filtering through the windows, it was hard to discern the colour accurately, but my instincts told me it was a deep, scarlet red. It has to be blood, I realised with a sinking feeling.

I rocked my foot again, listening to the sound of the squelch, a sense of dread filling the air and seeping from my every pore. Judging by the sound of my steps and the metallic smell beginning to fill the air, a fair amount of blood had seeped into the carpet. My mind raced, trying to piece together what could have happened here.

Enough light to navigate by was coming through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall to my left. From my position in the doorway, I had a clear view of the entire room in front of me. The downstairs area was a large, single room, and it appeared the only exit was through the glass sliding door through which I had seen the technicolor lights earlier that evening. The door seemed closed from where I stood, though the dim light made it hard to be certain.

As I scanned the room, I was surprised to see that it was completely empty. There was no couch, no TV, and no man. Nothing. The emptiness of the room was almost as disconcerting as the blood-stained carpet. Where had the man gone?

The realisation that I was alone in a bloodstained, empty room sent chills down my spine. Every detective instinct in me was on high alert, sensing that something significant – and potentially dangerous – had transpired here. The lack of furniture or any personal effects made the space feel even more eerie, like a stage set for some unknown drama.

I stepped further into the room, every sense heightened, attuned to every sound and shadow. The strange emptiness of the space, combined with the bloodstains and the unanswered questions about Karl and the unknown man, created a pervasive sense of unease that clung to me like a second skin. As I moved slowly, surveying the room for any clue or sign of what had occurred, I felt a growing conviction that the answers were embedded in the silent walls of this mysterious house.

Turning my attention back to the large sliding door, I surmised that the unknown man must have slipped out through it. There was no evidence to suggest he was still in the house, and this seemed to be the only viable exit he could have taken. Allowing myself to let my guard down slightly, I walked over to the door, intent on making my escape and finding Karl. I needed answers, and time was of the essence.

Reaching for the door, I gave a heavy tug, fully expecting it to slide open smoothly and admit the cool night air. But to my dismay, the door was locked from the inside. My heart sank as my hand slid helplessly from the door handle, a wave of fear washing over me. He's still in the house with me! The realisation sent a shiver down my spine. But where?

I was certain I had been thorough when checking every room upstairs. The rooms were empty, or so I had believed. Doubt crept into my mind, mingling with the fear. Had I missed something? Was there a hiding place I hadn’t seen?

My mind raced as I considered my options. The locked door meant that the unknown man, whoever he was, might still be lurking somewhere within the house. The thought of being trapped inside with a potential threat was terrifying. I knew I had to stay alert, to keep my wits about me.

Looking around fearfully, my head swinging from side to side in a frantic search for any signs of danger, I suddenly spotted something in a far corner of the room. My breath caught in my throat, and I instinctively jumped back, pressing myself flat against the glass door. There, almost at the far end of the wall, was a small door. It looks to be directly under the stairs, I realised with a jolt. I must have walked right past it without even noticing. How had I missed it?

My mind began to race, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. My gut instinct screamed at me to run, to get out of the house and find safety. Yet, my curiosity, the relentless drive of a detective, instructed my trembling legs to walk toward the door. What secrets did it hold? Was the unknown man hiding there?

The silver door handle gleamed in the moonlight that streamed through the glass door. It seemed almost to call to me, its metallic surface enticing me to just touch it. To open it. With every fibre of my being on high alert, I slowly reached for the handle. It felt cold and unwelcoming as I wrapped my fingers lightly around it.

Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I prepared myself for whatever lay behind the door. With a single, swift movement, I threw the door open, my body tense, ready to confront whatever or whoever was hiding there.

My scream tore through the silent room as the man launched himself at me. In a split second of pure terror, I stumbled backwards, tripped over my own feet in fear, and sent myself crashing down onto the carpet with a hard thump. Panic surged through me as I pressed my hands firmly into the soft, grey carpet, scrambling backwards until my back found the wall behind me. The man, however, didn't follow.

Breathing heavily, my heart pounded so hard I could feel my blood pressure rising by the second. The fear was overwhelming, and I thought absurdly that if anything else surprised me tonight, blood might start to squirt from my eyeballs. I looked at the tall, built man who lay half inside the cupboard, his upper body sprawled out, staring up at me blankly. He didn't move.

A wave of unexpected emotion washed over me as I realised the man was lifeless, his eyes empty and unseeing. A warm tear rolled down my cheek as I stared into his blank, lifeless eyes. The reality of the situation hit me hard. This was no longer just a case; it had become a life and death scenario.

Riding a wave of panic-induced adrenaline, I unsteadily got to my feet, my gaze fixated on the body. I knew I shouldn't, but against my better judgment, I gravitated towards it. I crouched down beside the man and, with a sense of grim determination, I grabbed his shoulders and pushed his torso until he sat upright. His head drooped at a freakishly abnormal angle, his snapped neck unable to support it. His eyes stared sideways at me, lifeless and accusatory. Instant regret flooded my mind as I noticed the man's right shoulder becoming damp from my own blood, seeping through the light covering on my hand.

Realising there was no turning back, I gave the body several strong shoves, trying to push it back into the cupboard under the stairs. The man's heavy frame slipped in my grip, almost falling on me again. The physical effort of moving the body, combined with the emotional toll of the situation, was overwhelming.

As I grabbed the man's jacket to give another push, a small USB device fell onto the floor. Ignoring it for the moment, I gave the body one last forceful shove into the under-stairs cupboard. With all my strength, I pushed the door closed and leaned my back against it, using my body weight to keep it from swinging back open under the weight of the body. The situation felt surreal, like a scene from a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.

After a few moments of silence, a heavy jolt shuddered through me as the man's body slid down inside the cupboard and crashed against the door behind me with a thump.

Breathing heavily, I slid down to the floor, my back still pressing firmly against the cupboard door. The shock of the situation was overwhelming, and my mind was in overdrive, trying to piece together the chaotic events of the night. Another tear trickled down my cheek as I grappled with the gravity of what had just transpired.

What the fuck have I done? The question screamed silently in my head. What has Karl done? The implications were too much to bear, and yet, there was no time to dwell on them. I needed to act, to keep moving.

With a deep breath, I pushed myself away from the door, bracing myself, ready to rush back if it didn't stay closed with the weight of the dead body pushing on it from the other side. Thankfully, the door remained shut, the body securely hidden inside the cupboard.

I reached down and picked up the small USB device that had fallen from the man's pocket. Without looking at it in any detail, I hastily slid it into my jacket, understanding its potential significance. This could be a crucial piece of evidence, a lead to what was really going on in this house.

I stood up, feeling a newfound determination to leave this house of horrors behind. As I made my way towards the stairs, my every step was cautious yet decisive. I was keenly aware of the need to leave quickly but also the potential danger that could still lurk within the house.

Making my way back upstairs, a sudden thought struck me, halting me in my tracks at the start of the hallway. "Jamie's phone," I whispered to myself, the realisation dawning on me.

I turned back to face the kitchen, despite the fuzziness clouding my head and making it difficult for my eyes to focus. Pulling out my phone, I dialled Jamie's number again, a sense of urgency driving my actions. Almost instantly, a loud ringing filled the room, drawing my attention. There, on the edge of the kitchen bench, was Jamie's phone, its screen ablaze with blue light as it rang.

Without hesitation, I grabbed the phone and swiftly shoved it into my jacket, alongside the small USB device I'd found downstairs. A plan was forming in my mind. Only hang onto it long enough to remove any trace of Karl touching it and delete the call history, I instructed myself. And then find a way to return it to the house. It was crucial to ensure that no evidence linked Karl to the house or the events of tonight.

Sitting in the darkness of the car, I was fighting to control the trembling of my hands as they gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. The tension of my grip tore at my freshly opened cut, and I could feel blood dripping onto my thigh. I closed my eyes, and took several deep breaths in an attempt to steady myself, but my body began to shake uncontrollably, shock finally setting in after the night’s harrowing events.

A scream of anguish escaped my lips as tears began to pour from my eyes, falling into my lap and mixing with the blood. The reality of the situation was overwhelming. The man I thought I loved has just killed in cold blood and walked away. And now the body has my blood on it! The thought was unbearable, a twisting knife in an already painful wound.

For the sake of my grandmother, I pleaded with the universe, Don't let it be Luke. Anyone but Luke. The possibility that the dead man could be my cousin was too much to bear, adding a personal tragedy to an already devastating situation.

Sitting there alone in the car, a wave of self-loathing washed over me. I hate what I've become. What love has made me do. The realisation of my own actions, of how deeply I had been drawn into this nightmare, was suffocating. What Karl has done and that now I'm complicit in his crime. The guilt was crushing, a heavy burden that seemed to grow heavier with each passing second.

I hate this city. I hate Karl. The words echoed in my mind, a mantra of despair. But most of all, I hate myself. The self-reproach was intense, a reflection of how far I had strayed from who I thought I was, from the principles I had always held dear.