CHAPTER 5 — “Due Process”

POV: Evelyn Fantome

Interrogation, Evelyn believed, was notonly about pain.

Pain was crude. Imprecise. Inefficient for information gathering but otherwisenotheless still fun to do.

Truth emerged from inevitability.

Daniel Mercer awoke strapped to a chair beneath a single surgical light, pupils shrinking violently against the glare. His breath came in shallow, panicked bursts, each one fogging the inside of the oxygen cannula taped beneath his nose.

Good. Oxygen prevented convenient unconsciousness.

He tried to move.

Leather restraints did not budge.

“Please remain calm,” Evelyn said gently from the darkness beyond the light. “Struggling will only elevate your heart rate.”

“Where am I— who are you—”

His voice broke when Rowan stepped into view.

The mask, the hood, the featureless black silhouette — it stripped away any illusion that this was a misunderstanding.

Daniel began to sob.

Elias entered last, carrying a thin tablet.

“Daniel Mercer,” he said quietly. “Seventeen years, four months. Honor roll. Varsity athlete. Community service hours fabricated.”

He looked up.

“You have harmed many people.”

“I didn’t do anything—”

Evelyn pressed a button.

A screen descended behind him.

Images appeared.

Bruises.
Hospital reports.
Witness statements.
Surveillance stills.

The last image froze on a girl with hollow eyes.

Mara Lindt.

Missing.

Daniel’s composure shattered completely.

“I didn’t mean— she was supposed to keep quiet—”

“Where is she?” Elias asked.

Silence stretched.

Rowan stepped closer, resting gloved hands lightly on the chair back.

“You misunderstand,” Rowan said softly through the voice filter. “We’re not asking to help her.”

A pause.

“We’re asking to know if she’s still alive.”

Daniel’s eyes darted wildly.

“I… I don’t know…”

Evelyn studied his pupils.

“He believes that,” she said.

Elias nodded once.

“Proceed.”

POV: Rowan Fantome

Rowan loved this part.

Not the fear — fear was common.

The unraveling.

They leaned close enough that Daniel could see nothing but the blank lenses of the mask.

“You left her in the storm drain,” Rowan whispered.

His eyes widened.

“We checked.”

A trembling inhale.

“She… she hit her head… I thought she was dead…”

Rowan straightened, disappointed.

“Pathetic.”

Evelyn made a small note.

“Body recovered by municipal runoff two days later. Classified as accidental drowning.”

Daniel blinked, confusion cutting through terror.

“You… you already knew?”

Elias shut off the screen.

“Yes.”

The room fell silent except for Daniel’s ragged breathing.

“Interrogation complete,” Elias said.

POV: Elias Fantome

Judgment required distance.

Emotion distorted outcomes.

Daniel Mercer’s continued existence provided no benefit to society, the institution, or future victims.

Therefore:

Elimination.

He placed a small vial on the tray beside the chair.

Clear liquid. Odorless.

Daniel stared at it with desperate incomprehension.

“What is that?”

“Sedative,” Evelyn said kindly. “You will remain conscious.”

Rowan secured the bite block.

Daniel began screaming.

Elias administered the injection.

Paralysis spread instantly.

Tears poured down Daniel’s temples, soaking into the restraint straps.

Elias met his gaze steadily.

“You created an environment in which your victims could not escape,” he said. “We find symmetry appropriate.”

Lights dimmed.

Soundproofing activated.

Water began to rise from concealed vents at floor level.

Not fast.

Not dramatic.

Inevitable.

Daniel’s eyes bulged in animal terror as the cold reached his shoes, then his knees, then his chest.

Rowan crouched in front of him, voice almost gentle.

“No one is coming,” they said. “That’s the worst part, isn’t it?”

The water reached his chin.

His pulse hammered visibly in his throat.

Evelyn monitored the timer.

“Cerebral hypoxia in approximately ninety seconds.”

Daniel tried to scream.

Water filled his mouth.

Elias watched without expression until movement ceased.

“Confirm.”

“Cardiac arrest,” Evelyn said.

Rowan exhaled slowly, fogging the mask.

“Cleanup?”

“Vanishing protocol,” Elias replied.

Pumps engaged.

Within minutes, the room was dry.

Within hours, it would not exist.

POV: Leon Hainely

The scent trail was faint but unmistakable.

Rot. Wet stone. Old blood.

Leon crouched beside the storm drain, fingers brushing rusted metal as though it might speak.

He could almost hear the echo of a terrified heartbeat.

Too late.

Always too late.

A second scent lingered beneath the decay.

Not human.

Not wolf.

Something chemical. Artificial.

He frowned.

Hunters.

But not the kind he knew.

POV: Claire d’Assine

The restaurant overlooked the river, candlelight reflecting off the glass like distant stars.

Leon looked uncomfortable in formal wear.

Claire found that unexpectedly charming.

“You chose this place,” she observed.

“I thought you might prefer somewhere quiet.”

Considerate.

Dangerously so.

They spoke at first of trivialities — curriculum, students, the absurdities of administration.

Gradually, the conversation deepened.

“Do you ever feel,” Leon said carefully, “that you’re living someone else’s life?”

Claire stilled.

“Yes,” she said softly. “Constantly.”

Their eyes met.

Something fragile passed between them — recognition, perhaps.

Or resignation.

Neither noticed the figure watching from across the street through night-vision optics.

POV: Victoria Blackwood

She lowered the binoculars slowly.

“Well,” she murmured, “that’s interesting.”

Ravena peered over her shoulder.

“Romantic dinner?”

“Between two individuals who both register as thaumaturgically anomalous,” Vicky corrected.

Her smile sharpened.

“Oh yes. Very interesting.”

POV: Unknown — The Missing Girl

Darkness.

Cold.

Water dripping somewhere far away.

Mara Lindt opened her eyes to find iron bars inches from her face.

She tried to move.

Chains rattled.

Panic surged.

A shape stirred beyond the gloom — large, hunched, breathing in wet, ragged bursts.

Two yellow eyes opened.

Not human.

Not animal.

Hungry.

Her scream echoed through the underground chamber, swallowed by stone long accustomed to such sounds.

End of Chapter 5