4:00 PM.In a dimly lit corner of the Criminal Investigation Office, detective Alan Ryder sat behind his old wooden desk, surrounded by stacks of case files—some closed, many unsolved. Alan was known as one of the brightest minds in criminal investigation. A man who never missed a detail. He read crimes the way others read open books. His sharp intellect, uncanny intuition, and remarkable ability to connect minute details had made him a legend in the Major Crimes Division.
But today… something felt different. The rain lashed against the windows, and the wind howled through the cracks, when the door creaked open and a young girl stepped inside—thin, soaked, and pale, wearing a long grey coat dripping onto the wooden floor.
She entered hesitantly, her voice barely a whisper:
— "Are you Alan Ryder?"
He looked up from the file he was reading, his tired blue eyes meeting hers.
— "Yes, that's me. How can I help you?"
— "My name is Lisa. Lisa Morgan. I'm 17 years old. I think… someone wants to kill me."
He was supposed to be surprised, but he wasn't. He'd heard lines like that before. Yet something in her eyes—a mix of fear and quiet desperation—made him stand immediately.
— "Sit down. Start from the beginning."
Lisa sat down, her gaze darting around the room as if someone might leap from the walls themselves.
— "A few days ago, I started feeling like I was being watched. At first, I thought I was imagining it. But I'd find my bedroom windows open after I'd locked them… I got messages on my phone with no names… Then yesterday morning, I found a dead cat on my doorstep. There was a note on it that said: 'You're next.'"
Alan took a deep breath, leaning back.
— "Did you tell the police?"
— "Yes. They said it was probably just a sick prank."
He asked about enemies, family issues, her past, her friends—but she seemed like an ordinary girl… or so it appeared.
— "Alright, Lisa. I'll take this case personally. Don't worry."
She gave him a faint smile. One he would later see in his nightmares.
A week later.
Lisa Morgan's body was found in a back alley of the city. Thrown away like scrap. Her neck was broken. Her wide eyes stared into nothingness. There were no clues. No fingerprints. No witnesses.
Alan didn't speak. He didn't close the case.But he closed his heart.For the first time in his life, he had failed. He failed to save the one person who came to him for help.
Two months later… he resigned. He couldn't bear the looks from his colleagues. Couldn't bear sleeping at night.He moved to an abandoned house at the edge of the city—far from the noise, the memories… and himself.
But peace did not last long..
Strange dreams began to haunt him. Every night, he saw Lisa. Standing at the doorstep of the old house, her grey coat still wet with rain, looking at him and whispering:"Save me."
Then one night, he woke up breathless.He looked at the clock… 4:00 PM.The rain was falling.And he heard a knock on the door.
He opened it…
And there she was—standing just like before, staring at him with the same eyes.The same words came out of her trembling lips:
"Are you Alan Ryder?"