Lines of Deception

Case File Entry #002

Deputy Commissioner Ohm Pawat was a commanding presence, the kind that silenced rooms and quickened pulses with a single look. Broad-shouldered, with a stance that spoke of experience and authority, he held the highest rank at the headquarters, and every officer under his command respected his sharp mind and unyielding dedication to justice. Known for his no-nonsense approach and unshakable sense of duty, Ohm was the one they turned to when cases grew tangled, unsolvable, or dangerous. And he never flinched.

It was just past dawn when Ohm stepped into the station, his arrival almost reverent in its quietness. A faint hum of activity greeted him, with officers nodding in acknowledgment as he walked by, yet never meeting his eyes for too long—a respect bordering on fear. Before he could fully settle into the day, his phone buzzed in his pocket, the name Mr. Anurak Suphachai flashing on the screen.

Ohm's demeanor softened slightly as he answered. Anurak Suphachai was a man he admired, the warden of St. Joseph's Hostel and a pillar of the community. Over the years, Anurak had been a guiding force for troubled youth, offering a haven to those in need and earning respect across the city. To Ohm, he was more than just a community figure; he was a mentor, a friend.

"Good morning, Deputy Commissioner Ohm," Anurak's steady voice came through the line, laced with warmth and the usual calm authority. "I trust I'm not disturbing you too early?"

"Not at all, Mr. Anurak," Ohm replied, his voice respectful. "It's always a pleasure to hear from you."

Anurak chuckled. "Thank you, Ohm. I'm calling with a special request. This Friday, we're hosting our annual cultural fest at St. Joseph's. The boys have been preparing tirelessly, and it would mean the world to us if you could attend."

Ohm felt a rare sense of ease wash over him. "I wouldn't miss it. Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Anurak."

"It's always an honor to have you," Anurak replied warmly.

Ohm smiled gently. "I too look forward to it."

With a final exchange of pleasantries, the call ended. Ohm respected Anurak and so set a mental note for Friday, his attention now drawn back to the station.

The moment he tucked his phone away, Captain Leo and the others approached him with somber faces.

"Sir, we had an unusual case come in last night," Leo began, his tone as cautious as his expression. "A young man entered the station around midnight, drenched and in a state that... was unsettling, to say the least. He confessed to two murders."

Ohm's gaze sharpened, his professional instincts instantly alert. "Where is he now?"

"Holden cell three," Leo answered. "We've placed him there until further notice."

Without a word, Ohm turned and made his way toward the holding cells, his steps steady but quick. As he approached, he noticed the atmosphere in the hall shift, growing colder, heavier, almost charged.

At the end of the dimly lit row, in cell three, sat a figure with his back pressed against the cold wall, legs sprawled loosely in front of him. He looked young—too young to have murder on his hands—and there was an unsettling calm about him. His wet clothes clung to his frame, giving him a haunted, ghostly appearance. But it wasn't the look of him that made Ohm pause.

The young man's hands were moving rhythmically in the air, as if drawing invisible shapes, his fingers gliding smoothly, precisely, in a series of intricate gestures. His eyes, unfocused, seemed fixed on something only he could see, his lips moving in a silent conversation with himself. The light caught his hands, and Ohm could see faint traces of red beneath his nails—blood, washed away by rain but stubborn in its refusal to vanish completely.

Ohm felt a chill creep along his spine as he observed the man's strange ritual. He had dealt with many criminals, people hardened by life, but something about this one felt... different. There was a darkness here, an eerie calm that unsettled him in ways he hadn't felt before.

The man, sensing Ohm's gaze, paused mid-motion. He slowly raised his head, his eyes finally meeting Ohm's. They were dark, bottomless, holding an intensity that seemed to pierce straight through him. The silence stretched, heavy and charged, as they locked eyes.

For a brief moment, a flicker of something unfamiliar passed through Ohm—curiosity mixed with a tinge of something more dangerous. And in that moment, the young man's lips curved into the faintest of smiles, a quiet, knowing expression that only deepened the mystery surrounding him.

"Ohm, sir?" Leo's voice broke the silence, pulling him back.

Ohm tore his gaze from the man in the cell, his jaw tightening. This was going to be anything but a routine case.