The Ant Hill Project.

Chapter 4. Beneath the Surface

The days that followed were a blur of interviews, crime scene visits, and long nights spent poring over autopsy reports and crime scene photos. StoneVale was in a state of quiet panic, the sense of dread rippling through the town’s residents like an undercurrent they couldn’t shake. Every conversation in the local diner, every glance exchanged on the streets, carried the weight of an unspoken fear—who would be next? And when would the killer be caught?

Antonio found himself sinking deeper into the cases. The similarities between the victims haunted him. All of them were young, all brutally murdered, and all left in public places, posed as if for display. The killer wanted to be seen. He was sending a message, and it was up to Antonio and the rest of the team to decipher it before another body showed up.

Dr. Griffin had mentioned in passing that the wounds were consistent across the victims—clean cuts, almost surgical precision. That fact hadn’t escaped Antonio. He couldn’t help but think that whoever was behind these killings had some knowledge of anatomy, someone who knew how to inflict maximum damage with minimum effort. It was disturbing to think about, especially as he worked side by side with people who spent their lives studying the very same things.

As the weekend approached, Antonio’s exhaustion began to creep into every part of his life. His sleep was shallow, his thoughts scattered, and worst of all, he couldn’t seem to get Steven out of his head. Since the night of the last body, their relationship had felt… different. The tension was there, unmistakable, like a wire pulled too tight. He caught himself thinking about Steven at odd times, wondering what he was doing when they weren’t together, replaying conversations in his mind.

And then there was that moment—so brief but so potent—when their eyes had locked, and the world had seemed to slow. Antonio could still feel the ghost of it lingering in the back of his mind, and no matter how hard he tried to focus on work, the memory tugged at him, demanding his attention.

He wasn’t blind to the fact that something was shifting between them. Living together had created a certain intimacy, but now… now it felt different. There was an undercurrent of something unspoken between them, something Antonio wasn’t sure he was ready to acknowledge, let alone act on.

He was thinking about all of this as he sat at his desk, flipping through the latest case files. The quiet of the apartment was comforting, but in the back of his mind, he knew Steven would be home soon. They had planned a quiet evening in—no case talk, no distractions. Just a chance to decompress, something Antonio desperately needed.

But as he reviewed the latest crime scene photos, that sense of normalcy felt distant. There were details here that were bothering him, details he couldn’t shake. The killer had taken great care with the bodies, positioning them in ways that felt almost ritualistic. The cuts, the precision… there was a pattern, a methodology. But what was the message?

He stared at the photos for a moment longer, his eyes tracing the clean lines of the wounds, the way the bodies had been positioned in carefully chosen locations. The victims weren’t just killed—they were arranged. A chill crawled up his spine.

Before he could dive any deeper, the front door creaked open. Antonio blinked, realizing he hadn’t heard the familiar footsteps outside.

“Hey,” Steven’s voice cut through the quiet, bringing Antonio out of his thoughts. He stood in the doorway, his hair windswept from the chilly evening air. He had just come off a shift as a paramedic, his uniform still on, a tired but easy smile on his face.

“Hey,” Antonio replied, snapping the case file shut. “How was work?”

“Busy.” Steven shrugged as he dropped his bag by the door and headed into the kitchen. “There was a pretty bad car accident a few towns over. We had to assist. You?”