Chapter 1: Hi it’s me…

Sunshine kisses my skin as I look at my cork board, the bright rays casting a warm glow over the meticulous arrangement of photographs and notes. My mind races, time is of the essence – a relentless serial killer is on the loose, leaving a trail of perplexing deaths in their wake. I can't afford to waste a single moment.

I'm Zammirah Sullivan, a dedicated investigator with an impressive track record of cracking cases. However, this one has proven to be the ultimate challenge, a puzzle that refuses to yield its secrets. The photos on the cork board depict the victims – faces frozen in time, their stories begging to be unraveled. Frustration gnaws at me, for the killer's motives remain as enigmatic as their identity.

With a tired sigh, I rub my temples, attempting to alleviate the relentless headache that has plagued me for days. The constant pursuit of this elusive murderer has taken its toll. My fingers trace the lines connecting the images on the cork board, searching for patterns, any hint that might lead me closer to the truth.

The one question that gnaws at my thoughts like a persistent itch is how the killer manages to erase all evidence of their presence. It's as if they possess an uncanny ability to manipulate technology and evade capture. Could they have an accomplice with technological prowess? Or perhaps, as wild as it seems, they possess a genius that defies the bounds of reality? The possibilities are both endless and frustratingly perplexing.

As I ponder these maddening questions, I take a sip of coffee, hoping the caffeine will lend me the mental clarity I so desperately need. The bitter liquid courses through my veins, a feeble attempt to stave off the exhaustion that threatens to consume me. I lean back in my chair, gazing out of the window, lost in thought.

My gaze drifts back to the cork board, and my eyes linger on the clues

Let's see...

Clue #1: A high school girl who is chubby was found dead in her apartment. CCTV footage from her hallway was deleted. Only static was viewed when the incident took place. The cause of death, based on the autopsy, was an overdose. Beside her, there was a note stating:

"I didn't want to do this. It's me against the world. I don't know what to do. My friends aren't the option. I think this is the right thing to do."

Clue #2: A popular girl in her high school was caught in an "accident" while driving her car. She was dead on arrival, as confirmed by the professionals. Again, the CCTV footage was deleted at the scene. Beside her was a bag that belonged to her, containing pills and a notebook. The notebook didn't have anything written on it, but a folded paper between pages was seen by the authorities. The paper contained:

"No, I don't want to do this. For the sake of my friends, take me instead. I don't want them to suffer. The world needs them, but I'm not. You've tortured me for a long time. This ends now."

Clue #3: This is the last clue. It states that a gay couple was being bullied because they were in love with each other. They were found dead in one of the couple's apartments, hugging each other. Blood was gushing from their foreheads. They were dead when help arrived. The CCTV footage stopped working due to some circumstances. In their nightstand, a note was written:

"We love each other. The world is so cruel. We want each other. People keep getting in our way. Our friends supported and defended us. They're so sweet. But the words kept bugging us. Maybe this is right?"

Just as I'm lost in my thoughts, the abrupt and urgent summons from my boss, a formidable yet strangely attractive figure, jolts me back to reality. I rush to his office, my heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and dedication. His stern demeanor doesn't mask his concern for the escalating situation. I lay out my findings, presenting my conviction that these are murders, not suicides.

I hurriedly rush into my boss's office, my heart pounding in my chest. "I'm so sorry, I got caught up and lost track of time," I blurt out, trying to regain my composure. I straighten my disheveled clothes, desperately searching for the right words to explain my delay. Something seems to have soured his mood, making the situation even more precarious.

"I apologize for the delay, sir. I was engrossed in reviewing the details of the case," I quickly respond, hoping to appease him. His impatience is palpable as he urges me to get to the point. Nervously, I begin laying out the evidence that has led me to believe that this is not a suicide, but a murder. I'm acutely aware that my credibility is on the line, and I need to convince him of the validity of my theory.

"Examining the notes closely, I've identified recurring words such as 'world,' 'want,' and 'friends.' These clues, though preliminary, suggest a much deeper narrative," I elaborate, my words flowing with a mix of determination and anxiety. His expression wavers between skepticism and frustration, a daunting challenge I must overcome.

My boss lets out a frustrated sigh, seemingly torn between his exasperation and his desire to see this case resolved. "You have until Friday to crack this case," he sternly declares, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. I nod resolutely, acknowledging the gravity of the task ahead. With a sense of urgency, I retreat from his office, my mind consumed by the puzzle before me.

As I make my way back to my workspace, my thoughts remain fixated on the cryptic notes. The office hums with the sound of heated discussions among my colleagues, their voices weaving a backdrop of everyday chaos. This place, my second home, has always been a haven, a realm of camaraderie and shared purpose.

I find myself unintentionally drawn into a debate between two familiar faces, Zaki and Zephyr. Their playful banter serves as a brief respite from the intensity of the case. "Alright, alright, enough about chickens and eggs," I interject, a faint smile playing on my lips. I usher them away, proposing a well-needed lunch break to diffuse the situation.

With Zaki and Zephyr in tow, we venture to Marko's Goodies, our go-to lunch spot. The familiarity of our routine brings a sense of comfort amidst the chaos of the outside world. These two, with their contrasting personalities and unending arguments, have a knack for uplifting my spirits. They are not just colleagues; they are my confidants, my partners in both work and laughter. As we settle into our usual booth, I can't help but appreciate the camaraderie that has always been a guiding light in my investigative journey.

After our satisfying lunch, we re-enter our bustling workplace, each of us engrossed in our respective tasks. The weight of the unresolved case continues to hang over me, casting a shadow on my determination. With a sigh, I step into my office, greeted by the cork board adorned with fragments of evidence and theories. Frustration gnaws at me; I've hit a wall, unsure of my next move. Yet, wallowing in uncertainty won't yield any results. I straighten my posture, resolve firming within me.

Taking a steadying breath, I stride to my desk and power up my computer. My gaze falls upon the monitor, confusion flickering across my features as I'm confronted by an unfamiliar and insistent element. The flashing interface lacks an exit button, its persistence an unsettling presence. My distaste for this pushy intrusion is evident as I mutter to myself, "Ugh, seriously?"

"Zammirah, let's play a game called Seven Deadly Game."

The abrupt appearance of a text on the screen catches me off guard. I furrow my brows, an involuntary shiver running down my spine. How does this program know my name? Skepticism mingles with apprehension, but curiosity edges its way to the forefront. The suggestion that I might find answers within this cryptic game resonates with my relentless pursuit of truth. With a hint of trepidation, I decide to engage, thinking it might offer a new perspective on the case.

I hesitantly click the only functioning button, 'Play,' only to be met with an anticlimactic silence. Perplexity lingers as I wait, my expectations momentarily dashed. But then, a peculiar sensation ripples through me, as if an invisible force has taken hold. Suddenly, I notice an unusual luminescence enveloping my form. Before I can fully comprehend what's happening, the world blurs and shifts.

In the span of a heartbeat, I'm transported into a realm of weightlessness. The surroundings blur and twist as if reality itself is in flux. Panic grips my chest as I find myself hurtling through an otherworldly void. The sensation is disorienting, each passing second stretching into an eternity of uncertainty.

Amidst the chaos, a single thought races through my mind: am I falling? The sensation of freefall intensifies, the boundary between reality and the unknown blurring further. As the world around me continues to warp and distort, I brace for whatever lies ahead, determined to navigate this enigmatic game and unearth the truths it holds.