Project 100

The Raven's Game

Under the muted glow of a flickering street lamp, Detective Victor Anderson stood alone, his breath forming small clouds in the crisp night air. He had spent the last three hours in the shadowy corners of the old industrial district, chasing down the ghost of a clue that now seemed more elusive than ever. The promise of solving the string of mysterious murders that had terrorized the city hung heavy on his shoulders, a burden that grew more unbearable with each passing day.

As Victor leaned against the cold brick wall of an abandoned warehouse, he replayed the phone call that had yanked him out of bed earlier that night. The voice on the other end was distorted, almost robotic, yet the message was clear and chilling: "You're looking in the wrong places, Detective."

The line went dead before he could demand answers. Now, the silence of the night was only interrupted by the distant howling of a stray dog, a sound that seemed to echo his growing frustration. Victor knew the game was changing; the killer was no longer content to watch from the shadows. They were engaging him directly, taunting him to tread deeper into a maze that twisted far beyond the city's darkened streets.

As he pushed off from the wall, his resolve hardened. Victor was no stranger to the dance between hunter and hunted, but this case was different. It whispered secrets of his past, pulling threads that threatened to unravel the very fabric of his life. Tonight, another piece of the puzzle awaited him, hidden in the heart of the city's oldest library—an unlikely place for secrets, yet a rendezvous that could not be ignored.

With each step towards the library, Victor felt the weight of the night lift slightly, replaced by the thrill of the chase. Unseen eyes might have been watching, but tonight, he would set the traps. The game was on, and Victor Anderson was not a man easily outplayed.

Victor now stood at the door from which the sound was coming. He let out a sigh, preparing himself for the reveal of the killer. He twisted the doorknob and saw a figure looking at the screens which showed CCTV footage of the library. 

As he walked closer to the figure, he suddenly got a shock as if he touched an electric wire. That was when he noticed that there was an invisible wall separating him, and it seemed to give out electric shocks to prevent Victor from getting closer to the killer.

Intrigued and on high alert, Victor's initial shock quickly turned into sharp focus. He watched as the figure, still unaware of his presence, meticulously scanned through the CCTV footage that flickered across the numerous screens. The dim light from the monitors threw sinister shadows across the person's face, masking their identity in a haunting chiaroscuro.

Stepping back cautiously, Victor assessed the room, his eyes darting around searching for any clue that might explain the bizarre security measure—an invisible electric barrier. It was clear he had underestimated the killer, who had prepared for such an encounter with advanced and unexpected technology.

Gathering his composure, Victor scanned for a control panel or any device that might deactivate the barrier. He knew he needed to think like his adversary—meticulous and always two steps ahead. This wasn't just a chase; it was a battle of wits, and he was not about to let the killer slip through his fingers.

"Don't bother searching for the controller. How could you find it when it's right here with me?" the killer stated in a flat, emotionless tone, lifting the controller for Victor to see. Victor sensed a smirk forming under the mask.

"Who are you?" Victor demanded, his voice echoing with authority.

"Oh, me? It's rather disappointing that you don't recognize someone as notorious as I am. You do remember the name Raven, don't you?" the killer taunted.

Victor's fist tightened in anger at the mention of the name, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him.

"It seems someone is quite eager to meet me. Patience, Vic. Your time will come," Raven said, his voice as dispassionate as ever, promising an inevitable encounter.