Crimson Nights

Chapter 11 [THE BREAKING POINT]

The apartment was unnervingly quiet. A soft, unsettling sound of the city outside filtered through the half-open window.

Len stood still, framed by the faint light spilling in from the street, her electric blue eyes piercing the darkness. The shadows stretched long behind her, flickering like silent whispers in the night.

Isaac stood a few feet away, his face pale and stricken, as if the weight of everything had finally crashed down on him.

He held a manila folder in his trembling hands, the evidence was there inside. His voice, brittle and shaky, barely broke through the suffocating silence.

Isaac: "Lennie, we need to talk."

Len didn’t move at first. She let the words hang in the air, their tension coiling tighter around them. Slowly, she turned, her gaze lazy and indifferent. That familiar, dangerous smile played on her lips, mocking the gravity of the moment.

Len (voice smooth, disarming): "Talk? (a soft chuckle escapes) It's late, Isaac. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?"

Isaac's hand clenched the folder tighter, the paper crinkling beneath his fingers. His heart was thundering in his chest, the sound drowning out his thoughts. He couldn’t wait. Not after what he had seen. Not after the truth had clawed its way into the light, no matter how hard he had tried to bury it.

Isaac: "No. It can’t. Not after this."

He tossed the folder onto the table, the contents spilling across the dark wood like a violent confession. The glossy crime scene photos slid out—faces frozen in fear, blood painting cruel stories across the images. Bodies lay lifeless, torn apart by someone with a deadly expertise.
Len’s eyes flickered to the photos, but she didn’t even flinch. The look on her face was unreadable, a blank canvas hiding the twisted thoughts beneath. Slowly, she walked over, picking up one of the pictures. She studied it for a moment before tossing it back onto the pile like it meant nothing.

Len (voice light, almost playful): "What am I looking at here?"

Isaac's breath caught in his throat. His vision blurred as rage and disbelief swirled inside him. He took a step forward, his voice breaking under the weight of everything he felt.

Isaac: "This. This is you, Len! All of this! You’ve been lying to me... the whole time!"

Len’s expression didn’t change. She just stood there, her eyes gleaming in the dim light like a predator watching its prey. She tilted her head slightly, a cruel amusement dancing in her gaze.

Len (soft, teasing): "Lying? Maybe. Or maybe, Isaac, I never lied at all."

Isaac’s world tilted. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in as his mind tried to make sense of her words. His hands were shaking, his pulse hammering in his ears. He had been a fool—a blind fool.

Isaac (voice cracking, almost pleading): "I love you. I thought I knew you. The real you."

His hand gestured toward the photos, his voice shaking as he forced out the words.

"This… this isn’t you, Len. You’re not a monster."

Len’s smile widened, her eyes darkening. She moved closer, her steps slow and deliberate. Isaac’s breath hitched as she reached out, her fingers brushing against his jaw. The touch sent a shiver down his spine, cold and electric.

Len (voice soft, dangerous): "What if I am, Isaac? What if this is who I’ve always been? And deep down, you’ve known it all along."

Isaac recoiled, his legs buckling beneath the weight of her words. He stumbled back, his chest tight, struggling to catch his breath.