And that’s how Mioray ended up here, back to the present. There was a blank space between him fainting and waking up in the hospital morgue. Someone had hit him on the head. The next thing he remembered was the morgue. And the shocking discovery that his left arm was missing, while other parts of his body had been sewn together like some sort of monstrous creation. Whatever had happened, it happened in those three days he’d lost.

  But something didn’t add up. Mioray touched the back of his head. If someone had really hit him there, wouldn’t there be a wound, or at least a lump? He felt nothing suspicious. Could he have just imagined it? Maybe the part where someone followed him at night and attacked him wasn’t real. Perhaps he’d lost consciousness for some other reason, and that’s when the Dismantler took advantage of him. Or maybe it was someone impersonating the Dismantler, enjoying the sick game. After all, the real Dismantler killed his victims. Mioray was still alive. The logic was simple.

  Still, the question loomed: who had done this to him? Was it somebody from the bar he’d visited, At Life’s End? There had been fifteen people there besides him. He could already rule out Erinel. She wouldn’t try to kill him… would she? No, of course not. She’d been so kind! Then again, sometimes the kindest people turned out to have the worst intentions. But not Erinel. There was no reason to suspect her when there were fourteen other possible culprits. And that was only if it was someone from the bar. What if it was someone else entirely?

  “Are you still with us, Johny?” Detective Haytham’s voice broke the silence as he waved a hand in front of Mioray’s face. “Still planning to keep playing games with us?”

  Mioray didn’t respond. He had already made things worse by trying to distance himself from this nightmare, lying to the detectives, and now they suspected he was somehow involved with the Dismantler, maybe even as an accomplice. It was a foolish thing he did, but he’d just felt too overwhelmed.

  “We’re getting nowhere, Haytham,” Detective Lance muttered, briefly checking her phone. “It’s late. I want some sleep before morning. Let’s take him to the precinct and continue tomorrow.”

  Mioray clenched his teeth. No matter how he looked at it, there was no escape. This was his life now, and he would have to face it. Something horrible had happened. He’d woken up in the morgue. He might have even been dead for a while. And his parents still had no idea.

  “Can I make a call?” he asked.

  “It can wait until morning,” Detective Haytham replied, brushing off his request. “Maybe after a long night behind bars, you’ll change your mind and spill everything.”

  “You have no right to do this!”

  “You’re not giving us much to work with, John,” Detective Lance sighed. “We’ll need to take your fingerprints and DNA to confirm your identity, to see if you really are who you say you are. And Haytham, while we’re here at the hospital, could you check with the pathologist to make sure there hasn’t been any mix-up? I’m not fully convinced the dead man actually looked exactly like John here. Maybe they have photos? We’ll have some at the station from the scenes where body parts were found, but it’d be useful to have those where the body is intact.”

  “Sure thing, Lance. We don’t want to miss any details. Especially if we finally get a shot at catching the Dismantler. How I hate that bastard! He’s made our lives hell.”

  Detective Lance scanned through some files while Detective Haytham headed out to speak with the hospital staff.

  “Listen, I’ll tell you everything,” Mioray pleaded. “Just please, you have to believe me! I’m not the Dismantler, and I’m not helping him. My real name is–”

  The door suddenly opened, and an unfamiliar woman wandered inside.

  “Oh, great!” the woman said with visible relief. “I got here just in time!”

  From one look at her, Mioray could tell she was someone important. She had short, sleek blonde hair that fell just above her shoulders, neatly parted to one side and tucked behind her ears. She wore a crisp white blouse with a short red tie and deep navy blue pants. She stood tall, radiating confidence and authority. The woman smiled kindly, though her smile carried a certain edge, hinting she was not someone to be trifled with.

  “In time for what, exactly?” Detective Haytham sounded confused, evidently not getting the same sense of presence from the woman as Mioray did.

  “To catch up with all of you, of course!” she replied, adjusting her round glasses. She looked directly at Mioray, her tone softening. “Ah, poor young man! It’s such a tragedy that you lost your arm.”

  The detectives exchanged a glance, both visibly puzzled. It was clear that neither of them knew this woman or had seen her before.

  “I’m sorry, but who exactly are you, and how did you learn about what happened here?” Detective Lance’s tone was tinged with hostility.

  “My name is Reyna Kayree. Pleased to meet you.” She extended a hand to the detectives, but neither reciprocated. Lowering her hand, her smile widened with a hint of something predatory. “And you must be Detectives Natalie Lance and Chad Haytham, correct? I’ve heard many good things about you. People like you are the reason we can sleep peacefully at night.”

  “Not in the last couple of months,” Detective Lance replied dryly, unimpressed by the flattery. “So, you know who we are and that we’re detectives. I can’t say I know as much about you, though, Reyna Kayree.”

  The woman took out an identification card from her pocket, holding it up for both detectives to see. Mioray couldn’t make out the details, but he noticed a flash of dissatisfaction in Detective Lance’s expression.

  “And what does someone like you have to do with our case?” Detective Lance grumbled, her tone laced with irritation. She clearly knew exactly who Reyna Kayree was working for. “But the question remains. How did you even hear something happened here? And what, exactly, do you think happened?”

  For a brief moment, Mioray thought he saw a dark shadow flicker across Reyna’s face. Then it was gone, and she was smiling again, almost angelic, like a bright ornament on a Winterlight Festival tree.

  “I heard that a body disappeared from the morgue, supposedly one of the Dismantler’s victims,” she said nonchalantly, as if describing an ordinary Tuesday trip to the office. “And it seems you suspect this young man here is at fault. What’s his name, by the way?”

  “My name is–”

  “Don’t tell her anything,” Detective Haytham warned, cutting Mioray off. He turned to Reyna. “Look, lady, I don't know what business you and your people have with the Dismantler’s case, but I’d advise you to leave.”

  “Wait, Haytham, don’t let her off that easily.” Detective Lance stepped in front of the door, blocking it as if by accident. “If Reyna knows something, we should find out. Right, Reyna? Will you finally tell us how you came by this information?”

  “It’s quite simple, really,” Reyna replied with a shrug, feigning innocence. “Your captain informed me about the incident, and after a discussion, he agreed this case should be handed over to me and my department. I’m here to take custody of this young man.”

  Her tone suggested that this was self-evident and not open to question. Reyna had carefully chosen her words, revealing nothing about who she was or her exact authority, yet somehow conveying that it might be unwise to challenge her. The detectives seemed momentarily taken aback, uncertain how to respond. Reyna Kayree carried herself like someone powerful, someone who wielded her authority without needing to justify it.

  “This is the first I’m hearing of it,” Detective Lance said, raising a brow. “The boy’s coming with us to the precinct.”

  “My name is–”

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  “I understand your concerns, Detective Lance,” Reyna interrupted smoothly, “but this is now outside your jurisdiction. If you have any questions, feel free to consult your captain.”

  Internally, Mioray fumed. Was he being punished for something? Now that he was finally ready to tell them the truth, he kept getting interrupted. Well, it wasn’t his fault anymore. If they couldn’t listen, that was on them, not him.

  “Trust me, I will,” Detective Lance replied coolly. At this moment, it was a duel between her and Reyna Kayree, while Detective Haytham silently moved behind Mioray, observing both women and not daring to chime in. “But only in the morning, and only after we’ve identified this man and questioned him.”

  “I believe you’ve already questioned him, and he’s given you all the answers you need. Isn’t that right?” Reyna responded smoothly.

  To be perfectly honest, Mioray had given the detectives absolutely nothing. He averted his gaze, longing to be anywhere but here. Any place that wasn’t a police station sounded better. Although he didn’t know who this woman was, she at least didn’t seem to suspect him of being a killer or a corpse thief.

  “See?” Reyna concluded, her tone almost dismissive. “There’s nothing else for you to do here.”

  She moved as if to approach Mioray, but Detective Lance blocked her path.

  “We’re not finished here,” Lance’s voice was like steel. “If you want to take him, you’ll need to show me every piece of documentation proving this case is being handed over to you.”

  “Oh, Natalie, must you make everything so difficult?”

  “I’m just doing my job, and it seems to me you’re doing yours poorly,” Detective Lance shot back. “I’d much sooner let the boy talk to a proper lawyer than hand him over to you.”

  “Would it help if I said I could be his lawyer?” Reyna replied, her voice dripping with irony.

  “No. But now that I think about it, maybe we should bring you in for questioning too. It wouldn’t be against protocol.”

  “That would be a grave mistake, Detective.”

  “It’s not for you to decide.” Detective Lance narrowed her eyes. “Everyone assumes the Dismantler is working alone, but who knows? What if it’s actually a group of criminals? You, Reyna Kayree, could be part of it. How does my theory sound, Haytham?”

  Detective Haytham cleared his throat, glancing between the two women.

  “I…can’t discount it. We should explore all options,” he replied hesitantly. “But we should tread carefully, Lance.”

  “There’s nothing more careful than tying up loose ends,” Detective Lance replied, unwavering. She faced Reyna head-on, determined to get her way after being provoked. “So, what do you say, Reyna Kayree? Are we taking you down to the precinct, or will you start explaining what you’re really here for?”

  For the first time, Reyna looked irritated. Mioray watched closely, unsure who to trust. On one hand, leaving with Reyna meant not ending up at the police station; on the other, the more she avoided questions, the more suspicious she became. Detective Lance had raised a fair point, what if this woman was somehow connected to the Dismantler? What if she’d come here to finish the job, to kill him, Mioray? He was sure he wasn’t a killer, so he must be the killer’s prey who’d somehow survived. Or perhaps he was another victim of some sick psycho, if the theory about the impersonator checked out.

  As the two women continued their verbal sparring, Mioray noticed a strange, flowery sweetness filling the air. Faint at first, the scent had slowly intensified until it became overpowering and sickly. He wasn’t the only one who noticed.

  “What’s that smell?” Detective Haytham made a face, grimacing.

  “What smell?” Detective Lance asked, turning toward him. She looked drained, her hand gripping the back of a chair as if to steady herself. “When did it get so stuffy in here? I feel… lightheaded.

  Reyna’s eyes widened in sudden fear. Covering her nose and mouth, she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no. Why now?” Her poise vanished as she frantically looked around, seemingly searching for someone or something. “If it’s what I think… hold your breath as long as you can–”

  Before she could finish, Reyna crumpled to the floor, her face nearly hitting the ground if Detective Haytham hadn’t lunged forward to catch her. But seconds later, he too lost consciousness.

  “Is… this some kind of… sleeping gas?” Detective Lance managed to say, her voice barely audible. Mioray could just make out the top of her head as she slumped to the ground behind the table and chair. “Stay here, John… I’ll keep you safe…”

  Then he heard a soft thud, and all was silent. The three lay unconscious on the floor, breathing steadily but showing no signs of waking. Mioray stood up, bewildered. Whatever gas or scent had filled the room hadn’t affected him. He felt no dizziness, no drowsiness. Any weakness he’d felt after waking up had already faded.

  “My name is Mioray,” he finally said, but there was nobody left to hear him.

  He sighed. What did I get myself into? he thought. He could understand being pursued by the police, but Reyna Kayree? The woman was a complete mystery. It was hard to believe she was above the police, but at the same time, she didn’t strike Mioray as the Dismantler or someone close to him. And if she was, getting knocked out by the sleeping gas along with the detectives was a terrible plan. Which raised the question, who did set it off?

  Detective Lance had ordered him to stay, but Mioray saw this as his chance to break free. They had nothing on him. They didn’t learn his real name, and he’d tried to tell them three times! If Mioray left now, they wouldn’t be able to find him. At least not right away, which would buy him some time. Time he could use to figure out what the heck had happened to him. Maybe he could start by going back to the bar.

  He glanced at the door and froze. It was slowly opening, revealing another person standing in the hallway, above the unconscious guard lying on the floor, probably also asleep from the gas. Mioray recognized the figure. Same black skirt and unbuttoned vest, same white shirt, black hair with a hint of violet. It was Erinel. She had a pleasant expression as their eyes met, and then, without saying a word, she turned and disappeared down the hallway.

  “Erinel, wait!” Mioray called.

  No more second thoughts. Like lightning, he ran across the room, forgetting everything else and leaving both detectives and Reyna Kayree behind. He felt a strange sensation inside, as if his heart should have been racing, giving him butterflies, but it wasn’t. His heart didn’t respond. Mioray wasn’t even sure it was still beating. Mioray pressed his fingers to his neck. The pulse was there. Different, but there.

  Some patients and nurses were wandering around the corner in the hallway, but there was no sign of Erinel. It was almost as if she hadn’t been there a moment ago, as if Mioray had only imagined seeing her. That can’t be right. His legs moved on their own, carrying him past others in the hallway. They said something as he passed, but he wasn’t listening; his thoughts were elsewhere.

  He was out of the hospital’s restricted area now, so he found the exit easily and stepped outside. The night greeted Mioray. A chilly wind brushed his skin, reminding him that he was wearing only a hospital gown and slippers. Wandering around the city like this was cold, silly, and dangerous. A call for trouble, but he didn’t care. He had, allegedly, met the Dismantler once already. What could be worse than that?

  Mioray started to run. He was never much of a runner, but surprisingly, it wasn’t as hard as he’d imagined. He didn’t get tired, he didn’t break a sweat. Even his heartbeat remained steady. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t normal, but for now, he was focused on one thing only.

  At Life’s End.

  The bar was still in the same place as it had been three days ago, its neon sign faintly illuminating an otherwise dark street. Like last time, the area was deserted – not unusual at this hour, given the circumstances.

  Mioray went inside. The bar wasn’t empty; a few patrons sat at tables, but none were the people he’d seen the other night. He went straight to the counter. A couple was standing there, obscuring the bartender from view. As Mioray approached, he recognized the bartender. It was the same man who’d worked alongside Erinel.

  “You look young,” the bartender remarked suspiciously, eyeing Mioray while the couple moved away. Maybe something about me scares them, Mioray thought. “Got an ID on you?”

  “I’m not here to order anything. Have you seen Erinel around?”

  “Who?”

  “Erinel. She works here. I saw her here three days ago.”

  “Sorry, pal, that name doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “Are you kidding me? You were here, too! I sat right here at the counter and spent the whole evening talking with her!”

  “Wait, I think I remember you,” the bartender said, pointing at Mioray. “You were sitting here by yourself. Huh. I remember you having some drinks, but I don’t remember making them. Weird. And you had two arms then. What happened to you, pal?”

  “I’m fine!” Mioray replied, frustrated. Why was this bartender messing with him? Of course he wouldn’t remember making the drinks, it was Erinel who made them! “This can’t be right. I’m sure I saw Erinel working here! She made me a cocktail. Corpse Reviver No. 2!”

  “I don’t think such a cocktail exists,” the bartender replied, his tone hardening. “Same with the girl you mentioned. I’ll have to ask you to leave, or I’ll call the police. You’re disturbing my business.”

  Mioray growled impatiently. Was he imagining things? Was his memory compromised? It couldn’t be. He left the bar, not wanting another run-in with the police, and stopped in the middle of the street. The memories from three nights ago were sharp, vivid – some of the clearest he had. He remembered almost every detail of that night, and Erinel was there in those memories, so how could the bartender claim she wasn’t?

  With everything that had happened today and a few days prior, it was impossible to tell what was real and what wasn’t. What about the waning half of the moon? Or the red planet that had appeared in the sky a couple of years ago? Were those real, or just figments of his imagination? He could question a whole list of things – the existence of souls, ghosts, other dimensions, life on other planets. The list went on and on.

  He just didn’t want to question Erinel’s existence.