CHAPTER I
The Whispering Mind
The human mind is a labyrinth — deep, vast, and cloaked in silence. Within its quiet corridors lie secrets… some small, some unbearable, and some so monumental that the world itself would tremble if they were ever brought to light.
But what happens… when someone tries to uncover those secrets?
What happens when a stranger peers into the corners of your soul — not out of love or concern, but with the intent to use what they find against you? When the very truths you've buried, the pain you've silenced, and the wounds you've hidden become weapons in someone else's hands?
And worse — what if they succeed?
That fragile peace you've fought so hard to build, the calm you've carved from chaos, the sanity you've clung to like a thread in a storm — what if all of it is shattered in a single moment of betrayal?
In that moment, what would you do?
Would you surrender to the despair and let it devour you?
Would you fall to your knees and accept your fate?
Or… would you fight back? Would you strike first — before they can?
This isn't just about secrets.
This is about survival.
Because the secret buried here isn't small — it's enormous. Dangerous. So heavy that the world may not be able to bear its weight if it's ever revealed.
This is not a simple choice between right and wrong.
This is a war between silence and destruction.
And sometimes, in such a war, the only choice left is:
To kill — or be killed.
A World Drenched in Magic… and a Case That Shattered My Mind
This world — it's unlike anything you've ever known. A realm drenched in enchantment, cloaked in ancient power, and crawling with beings who only exist in the pages of forgotten myths. A world where magic breathes, thrives, and sometimes... kills.
And today, it left a corpse at my feet.
The body lying before me isn't human — at least, not entirely. It's a werewolf, one of the rarest magical beings to walk this world. By day, they move among us, camouflaged in human flesh, speaking our language, blending into our cities and crowds. But under the silver touch of the moon, their truth awakens — raw, wild, and feral.
But now... this one will never awaken again.
Murdered. Slain with a precision that chills my blood.
The wound on its chest wasn't random — no, it was deliberate. Clean. Brutal. It was inflicted with a blade so sharp, so deadly, that it couldn't have been wielded by just anyone. This knife wasn't forged by ordinary blacksmiths. It wasn't powered by common spells. This was something far more dangerous — a weapon designed for high-level magic warfare. A blade used only by the most powerful of humans — those who are trained, licensed, and closely watched.
So what was it doing here? Abandoned in a dark alley, soaked in blood?
There's only one explanation:
It was stolen.
But that's not even the most disturbing part.
Because this murder — this precise, surgical killing — suggests something more terrifying. It means someone out there is hunting magical creatures. Silently. Systematically. And they're using our weapons to do it.
But before I can chase that trail, you need to understand the world I live in. A world that doesn't just belong to werewolves.
Here, side by side, dwell vampires with seductive eyes and venomous fangs.
Draculas with the power to manipulate fear.
Fairies whose beauty can blind and beguile.
Witches who whisper curses in forgotten tongues.
Demons who walk the earth wearing the faces of men.
And others… creatures with no names, no origin, only powers so vast, so unimaginable, that even time itself fears them.
This isn't a fantasy. This is reality.
My reality.
And as a detective in this magical underworld, it's my job to untangle the lies, trace the shadows, and find the truth — no matter how dark it gets.
This case…
It's not just a murder.
It's the beginning of something far more dangerous.
And I fear the blood has only just begun to spill.
A Message Written in Blood
The werewolf's body lay cold and still… but its story screamed in silence.
Its head was missing — gone without a trace — and just beside the lifeless torso, placed with disturbing intent, were its eyes. As if forced to stare at its own mutilated body. As if the killer wanted the victim's last memory to be soaked in horror.
This wasn't just a murder.
It was a performance.
A cruel message delivered in flesh and blood.
The body showed signs of prolonged torture. Every limb, every muscle, every piece of skin told the same tale — pain. Whoever did this didn't just want the werewolf dead. They wanted it to suffer. Badly. The limbs had been separated one by one — not in rage, but with cold, calculated precision. And all of it… happened right in front of the victim's own eyes.
A display of domination. A declaration of power.
And worst of all — this wasn't the first time.
Three other beings have already met the same fate:
A Vampire, a Demon, and a Devil.
All powerful. All dangerous.
All dead.
Each one had been killed in the exact same way — their heads missing, their eyes laid beside their corpses, as if frozen in a moment of eternal despair, watching themselves fall apart. Each body a twisted masterpiece of agony.
This killer… isn't just murdering.
They're sending a message.
A message soaked in fear. A promise of more to come.
And to truly understand what happened here, I need to uncover the victim's final moments — not as a werewolf, but as the human they once were. That means I'll need to use magic… to restore them to their human form.
But I hesitate.
Because I know the killer is watching. I can feel it — the weight of unseen eyes crawling across my skin, studying my every move. They're smart. Sharp. Ruthless. And they're waiting for me to slip. To use my power. To reveal something they can use.
I can't give them that.
Not yet.
This is no ordinary killer. This is someone who knows how we think — someone who's playing a game, and we're just pawns on their board. A shadow moving silently across a world filled with magic and monsters. And somehow, this shadow is winning.
But I'm not going to stop.
I'm not going to run.
I will find them.
Because this is no longer just about justice.
This is about protecting a world where magic lives, where power breathes — and where monsters don't always look like monsters.
Sometimes, they wear the most human face of all.
I Am Aurora… and This Is My Breaking Point
My name is Aurora, and in this vast, chaotic magical world, my purpose is clear — to protect. To stand between the innocent and the shadows that seek to consume them. To fight, even when hope fades. To hold the line when everyone else steps back.
But lately… I feel like I'm failing.
Week after week, another life is taken. Another body lies cold. Another soul lost — and I wasn't fast enough to stop it. I wasn't strong enough. Every time I arrive at the scene, it's already too late.
And with each death… the guilt tightens its grip on my heart.
It haunts me — the growing pile of victims. And now, I've made myself a promise:
If I don't catch this killer within a month, I will resign.
But I will not walk away from the chase. Even if I lose my title, my role, my identity…
I will not let the killer win.
Because this murderer isn't just taking lives —
They're toying with me.
Every death is a twisted message.
Every crime scene — a challenge.
But it's not random. The killer knows about my gift. You see, I was born with something rare… something that both empowers and curses me. If a victim's eyes remain intact on their face, I can look into them — and witness the final moments before their death. I can see what they saw. I can feel their last breath.
But this killer is clever.
They remove the eyes and place them beside the body — far from the face — breaking my connection. And to make things worse… they steal the face entirely, taking it with them like some grotesque trophy.
Why? To erase the last trace of identity? Or to feed some darker, unspeakable ritual?
Some suspect the work of witches — practicing ancient black magic.
Others whisper the name of Draculas, feeding on the essence of faces instead of blood.
But that theory doesn't hold.
Because none of the bodies have been drained. No puncture marks. No bloodthirst. Just surgical, cold-blooded horror.
This isn't the work of a beast.
This is the work of someone… calculating.
Hidden. Clever. Cruel.
Someone who doesn't walk the night like a monster —
But hides among us. Blending in. Smiling. Pretending.
One face in a thousand… or maybe more.
And that terrifies me.
Because in this magical world filled with vampires, demons, fairies, devils, and witches —
The most dangerous monster might just be the one wearing a human mask.
And until I rip that mask off and see what lies beneath…
No one is safe.
Not even me.
The Investigation Deepens
The body is now being taken away — escorted by a highly skilled team of doctors who specialize in the anatomy of magical beings. They belong to a secretive medical order in this world, experts in the postmortem of creatures no ordinary healer could even begin to understand. Their job is to uncover what I cannot with magic alone. And now… I wait. For answers. For truth. For the pieces of a puzzle that might finally begin to make sense.
But I can't afford to sit still.
Time is slipping through my fingers, and every second lost is another chance for the killer to vanish — or worse, strike again.
So I'm heading out.
To the city of witches.
A place steeped in ancient energy, cloaked in secrets, and ruled by beings who walk the fine line between wisdom and danger. The witches don't usually interfere with magical society. In fact, they rarely have reason to harm anyone from this world. Their rituals, their magic, their hunger — it's often aimed at earthbound humans, not the supernatural beings who dwell here.
Which is exactly what makes all of this so strange.
If a witch is involved, something is very wrong. Someone would have to be desperate… or possessed by vengeance… to violate the unspoken laws of this realm. To target beings like werewolves, demons, and vampires is to invite chaos. It's a line even dark witches rarely cross.
But I have to know.
I have to ask.
Even if it means walking into the storm myself.
Because this mystery is deeper than anyone realizes.
And I can't rest until I uncover who — or what — is behind it.
I know the risks.
The city of witches is not a place that welcomes questions… especially from someone like me.
But fear cannot hold me back. Not when lives are at stake. Not when someone is sending a message written in blood.
This path may lead me into the heart of darkness.
But I've already chosen it.
And I won't turn back until I find the truth.
To be continue....