Murder 2.0

Murder 2.0

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WpMetadataReadOngoing52m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Apr 9, 2023
I saw her gliding down the hallway, I turned to grab my jacket and ran after her but she wasn't there anymore. I pulled my hair in frustration when someone tapped my shoulder. I turned and under the faint silver moonlight saw familiar red painted beautiful lips smiling at me. "Hadley..... it cant be you, I just saw you walking down in opposite direction." I struggled to gather my thoughts and looked past her at long narrow hallway with no soul and no way in sight, confused how did she managed to do this. "What do you mean Eric, you are confusing me" she replied with a smile and her expressions were anything but confused. I forcefully grabbed her shoulders, trapping her small frame between me and wall demanding "How did you do this? People believe you are ghost but I don't." "Maybe I am a ghost" was her calm reply before she smashed her soft lips on mine. When our undercover spy Eric Rider ventures into a hotel to uncover the ghost haunting it but gets tangles up in past and secrets relations, and worst of all he finds himself falling for the mysterious girl people believed to be the ghost herself. How would this play out for him? Will he ever find the culprit or get lost like many before?
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#890
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The door opens and closes thirty times in five minutes, the table clutters endlessly. What's happening? Why am I being held by two officers in the corner of a counseling clinic? Is this an interrogation ground now? Shadows race past me, like mirages in a desert, faces flicker into view only to vanish the next second. The officers speak, but I can't hear them. My senses are failing me. Something inside me is taking control, and I might faint. If I wake up in a hospital, will this still be a nightmare, or something scripted? The city woke to devastation. The news spread like wildfire-Dr. Nadia, a champion for human rights, had been murdered in this very clinic. Yesterday, she voiced her fear for her life; no one listened. Now, she's gone. The press churned out articles minute by minute, TV channels broadcast live updates, and the internet roared with outrage. Police teams haven't slept. Top agents were deployed. That's how I met Inspectors Carla and Javed-while being held as both the prime suspect and the sole witness to this chaos. Dr. Nadia wasn't just a leader; she was a symbol of hope. She fought tirelessly for the oppressed, for justice, for rights the government ignored. Yet, she seemed to know her time was near. A week ago, she hinted at it but continued her fight. Yesterday, she paid the price-her life. Now, the city mourns her loss, consumed by guilt for ignoring her cries for help. The last time I saw Nadia, she was here, in this clinic. She didn't want to live. She seemed tired, desperate for respite. How does someone so adept at convincing others to hold on end up wanting to let go? Her death feels like a betrayal. She trusted us, and we failed her. I failed her. Now, it's on me to prove this was no accident-a cold-blooded murder. Or was it?

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