Worlds Apart

Chapter 0

P R O L O G U E

Sep. 08 2020 23:55 CET

Oslo, Norway

People witness the strangest things during their lifetimes - unexplainable, baffling, yet impossibly intriguing things. The memories of these strange events may be lost in the floods of time, or they may be forever imprinted onto their minds. Strange things happen everywhere, at almost any given time; but the hotel room currently occupied by Daisha Vancleave was anything but strange.

The room was engulfed in warm golden light, none of the cold night air seeping into the safe little bubble that existed within the four walls. Daisha lounged in the plush cardinal armchair, leafing through stiff, important-looking documents. An open folder lay on the table beside her, bold black letters adorned it, spelling out THE AGENCY. The rest of the title of the report was obscured by carefully scattered sheets of paper.

Daisha's hand stilled when she came face-to-face with a document that caught her interest. She nodded slowly to herself, dark eyes narrowing in satisfaction.

A rectangle of pale blue light popped up on the bedside table, a blurred reflection forming on the smooth ebony surface. A loud yet gentle tune filled the room, and her eyes flicked over to the ringing phone. She placed the reports aside, and strode over to it, picking it up, and the music came to an abrupt stop.

She was expecting a call, but not so soon. She'd only been in Norway for a day. It seemed as if she arrived right on time.

"Hello?" It was a man's voice. There was a tremor in what must've always been a rough and intimidating voice, which she quickly pinned down as fear.

"This is PI Daisha Vancleave. How may I help you?" Her voice did not reflect the excited anticipation she felt, just as she'd intended.

"I— there's been a murder which I need you to investigate. Please hurry." A murder. She had hoped this call would prompt a lead, and that there was a possibility this would lead to something good in the end, but that hope was slowly sinking.

"Where are you?"

"Dalbyen. Please make haste. I'll tell you all the details once you're here." The man on the other side of the line gave her his name and the directions to a place called The Port Inn. Although he was making a desperate attempt to sound calm and collected, his words poured out in a rushed stream of syllables, fear breaking through the surface ever so often. He hung up.

Dalbyen. That wasn't too far from the hotel she was staying at, but it was far enough from any major cities for her to be anxious. Daisha glanced at her phone, saving the number before dialling another. This is why they were here; they needed to get there as soon as possible. For that to happen, she needed Owen McCallen here first.

It was not a noticeably strange event, but it did mark the beginning of one. Unbeknownst to the seasoned detective, her newest case would not only lead to the strangest event she would ever witness, but to the most remarkably awful event in her lifetime, that would most definitely imprint itself in her mind and memories, never lost, never forgotten.