🗝️Detective Ryker Viltarin must uncover dark secrets before he loses not only his heart but also his life.🗝️
You're on your own, far from home
The wind is blowing in the top of the pines
A gloomy sky where the sun never shines
Deep...
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A flash of light illuminated the room for a heartbeat before the loud rumble of thunder shattered the stormy silence. Raindrops drummed incessantly against the window panes, and the wind rattled the shutters. The thunderstorm made ghostly noises in the darkness, instinctively sending a shiver down everyone's spine.
Ryker, on the other hand, groaned softly before rolling over on the bed once more. This had been going on for an eternity, and the day's exertions were now noticeably taking their toll. His every muscle felt stiff, and his limbs were as heavy as lead. With every movement, a dull, stabbing pain shot down his back, making it difficult to breathe. Together with the gloomy thoughts, the old wounds and the thunderstorm with its loud rumbling robbed him of sleep.
This was another reason his heart was racing in his chest when Ray finally fumbled in the darkness for the switch on the small bedside lamp. All he could feel was the cool wood under his sweaty palm for a moment before finally finding it. The soft "click" was drowned out by the next furious rumble of the storm, and then, finally, the soft glow of the bedside lamp lit up the room.
"This can't be happening," he muttered quietly, running a hand over his face.
Damn. Did there have to be a storm today of all days? He hated storms like this. The sounds that echoed through the night were like an echo from the past. Rolling thunder sounded to his ears like detonating grenades and mines. Flashes became muzzle flashes and explosions that tensed his muscles. Reality and memory merged into a shadow, blacker than a moonless night.
Had he thought it couldn't get any worse? Part of him wanted to laugh mirthlessly as he shakily raised his hands to wipe his face again. Cold sweat stood on his forehead. Life spat in his face and seemed to want to punish him even more for his stupidity. It had been clear that this small, carefree bubble that he had lied to himself here, far away from everything, would burst one day.
It was always like that. All the lies caught up with you at some point, and you reaped what you had sown. He, of all people, knew that best... After all, bringing this dirt to the surface was his job. So often, he had seen the consequences of such lies. It seemed as if he should have known better... He could no longer change it. It was easy to talk big and condemn when you weren't in such a situation yourself. All he could do now was repent. In his case, the consequence of his lies meant that he lost everything.
