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**The Dark Silence**
**Chapter 5**
The drive back to the station was a blur, my mind racing with the implications of what I had just discovered. The message at the factory was unmistakable, and now, with the janitor missing, the pieces of this twisted puzzle were beginning to form a disturbing picture.
As I pulled into the station parking lot, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the pavement. The air felt heavy, charged with an unspoken tension. I knew I had to act quickly.
Inside, the atmosphere was tense. Officers were gathered in small groups, their conversations hushed and serious. The news of Donnie Lavender's murder had spread quickly, and now the janitor's absence added another layer of urgency.
I approached the sergeant on duty, who was coordinating the wellness check for Kyle, the janitor. "Any word from the officer we sent?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Not yet," he replied, glancing at his watch. "He should be there by now."
Minutes felt like hours as we waited for an update. Finally, the radio crackled to life, and the officer's voice came through, tense and strained. "I've arrived at the residence. Front door's locked. I'm heading around back."
Silence followed, each second stretching painfully. Then, the officer's voice returned, now filled with shock. "We've got a situation here. The janitor... he's dead. Throat's been cut, and there's something written in blood."
My heart sank. The message was clear: "MIDNIGHT." The same word, the same signature. This was no coincidence.
I relayed the information to the sergeant, and a flurry of activity erupted as officers prepared to head to the scene. I knew I had to be there, to see for myself and to piece together the connection between these two murders.
As I drove to Kyle's house, the streets seemed eerily quiet, the world holding its breath. I had never given much thought to the janitor, just another face in the background of the station's daily grind. Yet, despite my indifference, I couldn't deny a growing curiosity about what had happened to him and why he had become a target.
Arriving at the scene, I was met with the grim sight of Kyle's lifeless body in the backyard. The grill marks on his face told a story of a life interrupted, a moment of normalcy shattered by violence.
I knelt beside him, the word "MIDNIGHT" glaring up at me, a taunting reminder of the killer's intent. This was personal, a message meant for me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out.
One of the officers on the scene approached me, his expression grim. "It looks like the same weapon was used here as with Donnie Lavender," he said, gesturing to the wound on Kyle's throat. "Some type of knife, judging by the cut."
The connection was undeniable, and it sent a chill down my spine. Whoever was behind these murders was methodical, leaving a trail of blood and messages that seemed to lead directly to me.
As the investigation unfolded around me, I knew that the answers lay somewhere in the darkness. The silence that followed these brutal acts was deafening, but I was determined to break it. The truth was out there, hidden in the shadows, and I would stop at nothing to bring it to light. Despite my initial indifference, the janitor's fate had become entwined with my own, and I needed to understand why.
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