The Last Message

Detective Ryan Carter was no stranger to the darkness. Fifteen years of solving gruesome cases had carved lines of fatigue into his face and turned his once-hopeful eyes into weary, calculating orbs. But tonight, something felt different.

The message had arrived at 3:47 AM. Just a few words flashing on his phone’s screen:

“Find me before they do. - E.K.”

E.K. — Emily Knight. The girl whose disappearance had haunted his career for the past five years. Officially, the case was cold. Unofficially, it had never left Ryan’s mind. Emily was presumed dead, a name etched into the long list of victims he’d failed to save.

But this message was fresh. Sent from a burner phone, untraceable. Someone was toying with him, or worse, Emily was alive and in danger. His instincts screamed at him to act, and Ryan had learned to trust his gut over the years.

By dawn, he was already at his desk, sifting through old case files, replaying every clue, every dead end. His apartment was a mess of coffee cups, tangled notes, and crime scene photos pinned to the walls like pieces of a puzzle that refused to fit.

Hours turned to days as Ryan chased shadows. Then, the second message came:

“You’re looking the wrong way. The answer is buried in the beginning.”

The beginning. The original crime scene. The one place he’d never dared to return to. Until now.

Pulling on his coat, Ryan’s hands trembled. The bitter chill of the night matched the icy dread twisting in his gut. But something about this felt real. And if there was even a sliver of a chance Emily was still alive, he wasn’t going to waste it.

Ryan’s car skidded to a halt in front of the abandoned warehouse where Emily was last seen. The building was a rotting carcass of steel and concrete, long forgotten by the city, but not by him.

He pushed open the rusted door, flashlight in hand. The air was thick with decay, the kind of stench that clung to your clothes and followed you home. As he navigated the darkness, his mind raced.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. Another message.

“You’re closer than you think. But so are they.”

Ryan’s pulse quickened. Whoever was sending these messages was watching him. But from where? And who were they?

He moved deeper into the warehouse, his flashlight flickering. His nerves were on edge, but his determination outweighed his fear. Just as he was about to turn back, he noticed something strange—a small door, hidden behind a stack of old crates. One he hadn’t noticed all those years ago.

He pushed the door open and stepped into a narrow corridor. At the end was a room, its walls covered in photographs, maps, and articles. His articles. His photos. Everything about Emily’s case. Someone had been watching his every move.

A laptop rested on a rickety table, still warm to the touch. Its screen displayed a live feed of the warehouse’s entrance. Whoever set this up was monitoring him.

Then, he saw it—a handwritten note taped to the laptop.

“You were never supposed to find this, Ryan. But if you did, you’re closer to the truth than ever. I’m alive. But I’m not alone. They’re coming. - E.K.”

Ryan’s blood turned to ice. This was no game. And if Emily was telling the truth, then he had just stepped into a trap meant to bury the truth forever.