The list of sinners

...Donovan...

Wednesday morning came with rain.
It had been raining all night without a break, which continued even into the morning. After four good days, I finally returned to work, unable to bear a minute more. I decided to take the road on foot, hiding behind a rain curtain. Above the curtain, only the sound of raindrops could be heard, stretching along it always more relaxed.

The reason why I decided was to shake myself off from everything that had happened lately, how I had opened up to someone about my past even though not for everyone, something I prayed no one would ever find out.

Throughout my life, people smiled falsely at me... everyone was focused on themselves. I thought that if I erased my status, people around me would be genuine, but the cold conclusion struck me when I realized that if I became better, money and my status were the only reasons people would notice me.

Despite all this, I felt worthless...I felt discontent, tired, and sick from all this. I felt disappointed, so I blended in with the environment surrounding me...with people, even my loved ones, until one day these balances were strongly shaken when I saw you. Natali.

Since then, I started to see clearer, more vividly. It still felt like you were there with me. I felt the same warmth with you as I did with my father. I could count all those colors I had lost in life. But everything was temporary...until you...until one day.

And as the rain chorus continued and became more intense, the water had soaked the bottom part of my pants, deepening the brown color to a darker shade and giving my shoes a natural shine. I entered the department's shelter and closed the curtain, shaking off the excess water. I wiped off the water droplets that lingered on the shoulders of my coat, not allowing them to leave small dark stains.

I had been in contact with Cameroon all this time regarding the progress of the case he had covered during my absence. He had been the most active lately, taking on all the workload. I had to return to work as soon as possible and put aside the job as a caretaker.

"Cameroon good morning...God, Cameroon are you okay?" "What is this situation?"

"As if you didn't ask me..."

"This dynamic has the situation been?"

"My life has been dynamic."

"What happened?"

"Do you know I've been sleeping in the department for four days?"

"Are you fighting with your family?"

"As if it were that" he says.
"My girlfriend left me, in fact, she had been cheating on me all this time but the beautiful thing is she took the saved money for rent and left...oh dear life."

"I'm sorry for your situation...I understand."

"You do, huh? What happened to you? Where have you been these days?"

"After the last murder, after you left to escort Officer Burke, that coffee girl came, remember her?"

"That coffee girl ?! How many times will you meet in such unnatural ways?"

"I don't know, but people don't meet accidentally in the paths of life... I mean there's something in between."

"Lucky for you to discover Donzo"

"What do we have with the case?"

"Nothing. We have nothing. I've been doing interviews but they seem to have the same scripted responses."

"It's interesting that parents don't know anything about their children."

"Today, children know more about their parents. Remind me not to have children in the future" Cameroon said.

"And the apple?" I ask. "What came out of the verification?"

"Health above all, the apple was clean and no finger marks were found"

"Of course, who would be so careful as to not leave fingerprints" I said, leaning slightly on the table.
"It's clear we have a killer who is not an amateur and above all is very strong in terms of mental capacity to execute his plan with such ease"

"No one who, out of panic, steals the neighbor's motorcycle and gets caught later by the traffic police during the escape. Brilliant"

"It seems that this person is more likely to have committed even earlier murders" I said with conviction.
"His eyes do not show fear despite the massacre he caused on that young man...God have mercy."

"Donovan, I have a thought"

"Tell me?"

"What if we are facing cases of murders committed by followers of the satanic cult?"

"Satanic cult?"

"Yes, people who worship the devil. I was researching about this cult and what I saw was shocking"

"Show me" I said, leaning towards the computer.

"Satanists are responsible for crimes committed against humans but also animals. In 2018, an eighteen-year-old boy killed his mother by tearing her apart in a satanic ritual. The event that made headlines was Riki Kaso, who killed his girlfriend in the forest. When questioned, he declared that the devil had spoken to him in his ear. Do you think it makes sense when you hear these things?"

"Doesn't the devil still do that today?" I ask.
"I mean, we are in different trials and we try not to listen to evil. Where will you go with these Cameroon?"

"I mean, in these cases, all the victims are women" he explains.
"The death of these people is not just a bullet to the head, but an exhaustion of the soul. Also, the victims have a certain age or are mute babies or are people who have reached old age. How old are our victims?"

"Eighteen to twenty-two, so far"

"Exactly" he throws. "Clearly, all of this is related to this cult"

"Maybe before we make any statements to the media, it's good to do more research on this topic"

"Of course, I'm not even discussing it"

After talking with Cameroon and what he had concluded, I decided to go home and do some research on this cult. It seemed promising, but I didn't think something like this could have reached Connecticut. Anyway, it was good not to give it too much credit as the signs seemed to lead to a dead end.

I remembered that Celia had suggested staying another day at my house, but when I saw the house dark and deserted, I realized she had changed her mind. I felt relieved that I would work calmly under the gentle sound of rain and not have to answer her curious "whys."

I opened the main door and saw a white envelope that had been placed under the door. I didn't expect a letter from anyone, and if it was mail, they would call me, but from this, I understood that it had nothing to do with regular shipments.

I took the envelope in my hand and checked for a postage stamp, but it didn't seem anywhere. Nothing seemed to be there except the whiteness of the envelope and some dried water stains from the bad weather.

I decided to go inside the house first, leaving the key in its place. I took off my coat and hung it on the hook near the door to absorb the warmth of the fireplace, and with the envelope in hand, I sat on the couch.

Slowly I tore the top part of the envelope, shaking it lightly to make the letterhead come out. It had to be noted that with all that rain, it had gotten damp, making it difficult to come out easily, but I managed to pull it out without any problems.

"Jeg fant deg morderen"
    (I found you killer)

"This...this is in Norwegian?"

My heart started to feel the level of anxiety rising and injecting directly into it. I knew my family was in Norway, but someone else was there too, and I knew well who it was. I had been expecting this confrontation for a long time, but precisely after all these years, it had to happen. The past with its sins had not left me calm yet.