Murder On The Waterway: The Case Of The Kanaima Demon

Chapter Thirty Two

I handed the evidence to Michael, feeling the weight of it in my hand. With what might befall me soon, I knew it was safer in his hands. We locked the boat, and as I glanced around, the relics inside the floating house weighed heavily on my mind. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of them. We possessed the grand prize and the means to save Ellena, provided she was still alive.

I stood there, staring at the eerie floating house, its presence ominous in the moonlight. An unshakable unease coursed through me as I watched the black ripples dance upon the water. My warm breath billowed into the frigid air, creating ghostly plumes. Except for the lapping of the water, the world had fallen into a heavy silence.

Every fibre of my being screamed with alarm. The little radio in the guard's cabin had gone eerily quiet, and the only sounds were faint footsteps. It could have been the guard taking a stroll to inspect the grounds, but my instincts told me otherwise. A sense of impending danger hung in the air, and I couldn't help but check on Michael's progress.

"I can't get through," Michael said, frustration and anxiety etched on his face, as he waved his radio towards the crimson moon, hoping for a signal boost.

The blood-red moon loomed above us, casting an eerie glow over everything. It seemed larger and more menacing, as if it were about to devour the entire world. Its intricate design sent shivers down my spine. In the hours to come, with our sins laid bare, I knew I might become something as monstrous as the beings we were pursuing, perhaps even more dangerous.

"At all? Not even static feedback?" I inquired, reaching for my radio and pressing the button. A soft beep was all that responded, with no static crackling or voices on the other end. Our radios were blocked, an unsettling realisation that further fuelled my fear.

"Nothing. I don't like this," Michael muttered, his dishevelled appearance making him look like a constipated grandparent.

The tension in the air was palpable, and the feeling of being directed here for answers weighed heavily on us. We were not the only ones seeking these answers. Ellena had guided us to this place, and Melanie had already extracted information from her. My thoughts circled back to the Polaroid and its peculiar smell. I had dismissed it as a mere marker, but now it felt like a puzzle waiting to be solved, something hidden beneath the surface. Words, perhaps, that would only reveal themselves under U.V. light or, in my case, with my "Alpha Eyes" as a detective werewolf.

I remembered the hairdryer on the floor, plugged in beside the sofa. Heat could unveil the hidden message in that photograph. This was the very reason Natasha and Melanie had arrived so quickly at Ellena's home. They had been there to observe and discover what we uncovered, all the while knowing they had taken precautions.

The scent of the fishmonger's market filled the air, assaulting my heightened senses. The proximity to the water and its waste, fish guts, and debris attracted a menagerie of creatures - rats, foxes, and seagulls. Every heartbeat, every rustle, added to the cacophony of confusion.

"Michael, this is a setup," I murmured, connecting the dots.

"We can't call for help," Michael responded, his face twisted with mounting anxiety. The grim reality of our situation sank in. I carried the weight of the impending confrontation with a demon and the knowledge that our only weapon was its toxin, leaving Michael in a vulnerable position.

"But that might not be entirely true. It's time for you to overcome your fear of boats for the task that awaits," I said, my gaze shifting towards the lifeless body. Regardless of the outcome, we needed a backup plan, and I had a hasty one in mind.

"What are you planning?" Michael asked, his curiosity mixed with trepidation.

"Help me lift the body and place it under that tarp near the barrels," I instructed, watching as he reluctantly followed suit. The tarp was draped over waste barrels, creating a convenient hiding spot. While I could have lifted the body on my own, having Michael nearby ensured his safety and allowed me to keep a watchful eye on our surroundings.