In the police station, silence and darkness dominated the atmosphere. The officers inside—a total of twenty—began to wonder what might have happened. Some said, "It must be a short circuit." "This place is already old," one commented, while another added, "Although they remodeled it a couple of years ago." "Could it be that someone is coming for her?" suggested a third.
"Nonsense," said the second-in-command firmly. "Go get the flashlights and load your weapons." "Yes, sir," the others responded in unison.
"Sir Donovan, what about the prisoner?" asked a young officer. "Have two stays and guard her. Don't let anyone enter through that door. The rest, with me." "Yes, sir," they responded again. To the two who stayed with Vera, they left a flashlight, while the others went out to investigate what had happened.
"You guys, go check the backup generator. Meanwhile, you and others check the wiring outside. We'll cover you from inside, watching the main door." Immediately, everyone dispersed to their assigned positions.
Those who went out discovered that the cables had been cut. "Sir, the cables have been cut," they began to say over the radios. But nothing could be heard on the other end. "What are you saying, officer? I can't understand you," Donovan indicated. "Sir, it seems the radio signal has been compromised," explained one who was by his side. At that moment, the officer who had been signaling from outside went still and collapsed to the ground with a knife embedded in his back. "We're under attack!" shouted one of those near the fallen man, trying to point his flashlight in all directions while gripping his pistol tightly, just like the other three who were with him.
The flashlights went out suddenly. Gunshots and blood-curdling screams rang out until, once again, there was only silence. From inside, Dónovan shone his light outward and could only see the men lying on the ground. "What's going on?" the others wondered, confused as they saw no one out there. The team with the second-in-command couldn't communicate with those who had gone to the generator or with those guarding the prisoner inside.
At the generator, the other officers were trying to start the engine when they felt the machine explode. Amidst the smoke, a shadow moved so quickly that it was impossible to focus on it with their flashlights. One by one, the officers fell. "Ten down, eleven to go," muttered Paul, dressed in a black suit and a bear-shaped mask, as he cleaned his knives, which he pulled from the bodies of each fallen officer.
Dónovan and his team heard the screams coming from the generator, along with the explosion. They opened the door and only saw smoke pouring out of the room. When the smoke cleared, they saw their comrades lying on the ground, with multiple wounds on their backs. "They're dead," said one of those who entered, his voice trembling and breaking as he touched each of them, still hoping to find some sign of life.
A loud crash was heard, and everyone gathered around Dónovan, forming a circle with him at the center. They walked this way until they reached the room where Vera was being held.
Before reaching the room, Paul appeared before them, dressed in his suit that completely concealed his identity. The officers drew their weapons, pointing them at him and shouting for him not to move. He ignored their warnings and began moving around the area as if nothing could touch him; the bullets seemed to pass through him without making contact. Then he lunged at them, slitting one man's throat and repeatedly stabbing another in the stomach with his knife. One by one, the officers fell under Paul's precise attacks until only Dónovan remained. He tried to defend himself, but Paul disarmed him and immobilized him by grabbing his arms, forming a sort of triangle.
The two young men guarding Vera were terrified. They drew their weapons to investigate who it was when, suddenly, the window of the room shattered, and they saw a body fly onto the table. It was the second-in-command, gravely injured and lying motionless on the table, unable to move.
The two officers fired toward the spot where the body had come from, but each received a dagger to the head, dropping it instantly.
"Well, to whom do I owe my salvation?" Vera said in an eloquent tone. "As if you didn't know," Paul replied, removing his bear-shaped mask. The man entered and removed the chains binding Vera using a sword he carried on his back. "Ah, it's you, Paul. Thank you," she said, then pulled a knife from Paul's belt and plunged it into Donovan's neck. "You didn't have to do that," Paul said. "Yes, but I don't like his know-it-all face. Besides, I did him a favor."
"Alright, let's get out of here. We need to return to the others." "What a great show you've put on, boss," Vera responded with a smile. "After all, I'm not the only one who's crazy."
Paul grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the police station. They both got into the car, unaware that Tecro had taken a photo of them hidden among the shadows. "Well, this photo won't be clear since I didn't use the flash, but with the software I have, maybe I can figure out who they are."
Tecro waited for them to leave. Once they had gone, he noticed everything was still dark. He turned on the light of his phone and discovered his colleagues outside, dead. Terrified, he decided to go inside. Inside, he found more bodies scattered everywhere; it looked like a slaughterhouse. The entire place was destroyed. He tried calling Dónovan, but there was no answer. He entered the interrogation room and saw the younger officers lying on the floor and, on the table, Dónovan with a deep cut across his neck. "This is disgusting," Tecro muttered, feeling a mix of sadness and anger over what had been done to his comrades. He tried calling Jeff, but had no success either.
"It seems something is blocking the signals. I'll have to go outside." When he stepped out, he saw that several cars with special agents had arrived. One of them approached and informed him that they had been called to take someone in for interrogation. "Do you work here?" the agent asked. Tecro showed his badge and replied, "Gentlemen, I believe you're too late. Take a look at what's happened."
One of the agents asked the driver to illuminate the station with the vehicle's headlights. When they looked inside, the only thing visible was the bodies of officers lying on the floor and a pool of blood covering the ground.
The scene was macabre. Tecro felt a deep sadness pressing against his chest. He wanted to cry because he knew all those colleagues well—people with whom he had shared countless adventures at the station. Each motionless face reminded him of moments of camaraderie and laughter that now seemed to belong to another world.
At that moment, his phone rang. It was Jeff. "Tecro, any news about the prisoner?" the sheriff asked urgently. Tecro swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat from the helplessness of what he had just witnessed. "I'm sorry, sir. That woman escaped. Our office is destroyed, and our friends... they're dead," he responded in a trembling voice, filled with pain and frustration.
At the other end of the line, Jeff froze for a few seconds. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Anger began to burn inside him like an uncontrollable fire. "That damn woman will pay for this," he finally said, his determination leaving no room for doubt about his intentions.