Astilbe's Garden

T.W.O | Offer (FIXED)

NOTE: This chapter contains depictions of intemse manipulation that may not be suitable for all audiences' precious hearts.
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The Crimson Royal Guard headquarters pulsed with a cacophony of controlled chaos. Harried officers scurried past bulletin boards plastered with gruesome crime scene photos, their hushed whispers and barked orders creating a low hum of tension. Dust motes danced in the weak sunbeams filtering through the grimy windows, adding another layer to the oppressive atmosphere. News of a possible suspect had set the station alight.

Sergeant Markus, his weathered face etched with an even deeper layer of grimness, barged into the office of Captain Anya, the woman in charge of the investigation. Her sharp blue eyes, usually a beacon of calm amidst the storm, now held a steely glint, reflecting the gravity of the situation.

"We have him, Captain," Markus reported, his voice gruff. "Found him near the scene, the last one seen leaving the alleyway."

Anya leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixated on a map of the city sprawled across the desk. Red pins, each representing a gruesome discovery, marked a chilling pattern that whispered a story of unspeakable horror. "Who is it?" she inquired, her voice clipped and efficient, demanding clarity.

"Kaiden Sage, from the bookstore on Elm Street," Markus replied. "No prior criminal record, but..." he hesitated, his brow furrowed, unable to articulate the unsettling feeling the young scholar evoked. He simply didn't fit the profile of a killer, yet something about him sent shivers down Markus' spine.

Anya raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing her features in the otherwise Stoic expression. "But?"

Markus shrugged, the unsettling feeling lingering like a phantom limb. He simply couldn't find the words to describe the disquiet he felt around Kaiden. Anya, however, wasn't one to rely on gut feelings or intangible anxieties. Facts, evidence, those were her weapons of choice.

"Bring him in," she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. The weight of the city's fear and the pressure to solve the case pressed down on her shoulders, demanding swift action.

Kaiden was ushered into the sterile interrogation room, the harsh fluorescent lights overhead casting a sterile, unforgiving glare. It amplified every tremor in his already fraught nerves. Sergeant Markus stood rigidly by the door, a human monument to unwavering duty. Captain Anya, her gaze sharp as a hawk's, leaned back in her chair, her expression an unreadable mask.

"So, Mr. Kaiden," she began, her voice devoid of warmth, "you claim to have been searching for a rare book at the very same time the victim met her unfortunate demise?"

Kaiden, his voice surprisingly steady for someone falsely accused of murder, explained his meticulous research, the cryptic clues leading him to the bookstore, and finally, his ill-fated decision to enter the deserted alleyway. His words, though tinged with a tremor of fear, held an unwavering conviction in their truth.

Captain Anya listened intently, her eyes like chips of ice, scrutinizing him for any flicker of inconsistency. She peppered him with questions, each one designed to pry open any potential cracks in his story, to expose any hidden truths that might lie beneath the surface.

"And why, exactly, did you choose to enter that particular alleyway, Mr. Kaiden?" she inquired, her tone laced with a subtle challenge.

His throat tightened. "It was simply the quickest route back home," Kaiden replied, meeting her gaze head-on. "I was unaware of the..." he hesitated, searching for the right word, "the unfortunate events that had transpired there."