Danger was part of their lifestyle, cunning its way to the top, it drove through the heart of men, making criticism of them. It was at the heart, mind, and eyes of everyone that lives in Dwand land. People call it a fantasy, others believe it's a sign, some say it's a warning, but most especially it's a pest.

Jones was laughing heartlily at his partner who laid on the floor rolling over his stomach, it had been a rough day and he wanted to take a break through the night. He had missed whiskey with rum and drops of bitter, expecting it for a relief, but he met a disturbing stomach.

   "I wouldn't say u told you; although I did, but this is the outcome of a sweet relieve." "Just enjoy, still want more? He raised the glass towards Adams mouth.

   "Get that thing away from me" was his friends reply. They had been friends right from kindergarten. Met due to their parents, but became stronger than any relationship that had existed before, they insisted on going to same schools, having same friends, same color of cloths, and same occupation.

   Jones office line rings calling back his attention, he quites his laugh becoming serious, then picks the call.

   "Detective Jones on the line, how may I help you"

   After the call he dropped the phone, then becomes serious, it wasn't a palatable call as of the looks on his face. He picks up his jacket ready to leave. On reaching the door he turned back again to looks at his Adam, who now laid on then floor sleeping like a baby, curdling itself.

   He walks off, out of the building taking a taxi to the location.

   There was a body laid in front of him In a pool of its own blood filled with scratch and stab marks all over, it was the fifth consistent body since the past two weeks, investigations has been going on but no progress had been made on the case. 

  The deaths was agreed upon to be kept away from the public so as not to put terror in them. During the last scope-search of the city a cop went missing, and the body was never found. 

   "Excuse me, what am I looking at?" He asked the cop that he met in the 

   "A dead body, what else!" A voice from behind responded.

   He turned back to see who responded.

   "Good day sargent Mane."

   "Good day to you to." Replyed sargent.

   They shake hands and walks back over to the body. the journalist looking for ways to take photos were prevented by the cops in the front door, researches were also prevented. 

   "You might have heard of this case, it's been on for a two weeks, but nothing has been found on it yet." He removed some files from his suitcase and passed it to him. In the files shows some pictures of the other dead victims, their names, age, and family relation. On the other papers were the possible outcomes of the killings, and possible reasons.

   "So why call me! I thought Mr Badmos is the one assigned." 

   "Yes! He was, buy he was transferred to another district. But on his transfer he made a suggestion about someone, capable enough to run the case." He breaths in slowly. "So that is what lead us to this conversation. The board is handing it over to you."

   He takes up the case, but requested that the place would remain untouched for a while, so he can fully, see to bits everything that happened. Orders was made for two cops two guard the place throughout. The cops did a very good job in covering it from the press and civilians.

He drove home on his tinted red striped G-wagon 2018 version, with tyres stretched tight on the ground. It was late into the night when he reached his apartment. He walked into his room and straight unto his bed, not removing even his shoes.

............................

   "Mother I need that brown teddy." little Benny said

   "We've talked about this mummy girl, you can't have everything you want." Was the mother reply while still searching around. "Excuse me miss, where can I find Mr Ben. Am meant to collect somethings from him."

   "Oh! Haven't you heard?" She asked questionable. "where must you have been? He was professed dead a week ago. It has been the talk of the Town." Miss Helena, the attendant mentioned. 

   "That is bad. Did they say the cause of death?"

   "Non I have heard off."

   Jones worked back to back to solve the case. Did researches, conducted test, went on with interrogation, but all semm frutile. Two more death occured after Mr Ben's, and it was just getting worst.

   Mr Jones was searching through some files in his office, with Detective Adams - his partner - sitting opposite him. He picked out a file, red in color with a necessity stamp from the authorities on it, telling of the exigency. He flipped through the pages from end to end looking at every scene again, but he just couldn't comprehend how good they were at covering everything up. It was really getting to him, hardly had he met any case like this one. He sank into his chair with frustration.

   "This case has been an hectic one, there's no clue, no dot, not even a mistake that would lead us to this Felon. This case is a hard nut to crack." His said with his head facing down. He kept on complaining to his partner who he didn't realize was laughing, as his attention was on something on his table.

   He traced his eyes to what he was looking at, and he saw the drawing of the mark that was on every kill, on a paper that he drew yesterday. "This is not funny man."

   "I know it is not. What are you! 6? Still playing with those stuffs." He laughed in a redicule manner.

   "Yeah! Now cut to the chase and tell me what is going on" he talked agitatedly.

   "Don't ask me, am I the one still playing with that!. Adam said pointing at the paper.

   Jones was already tired and didn't need anymore troubles, so he ignored what Adam said. As Adam noticed his attitude he became surprised, more alike confused.

   "If you don't remember that, then why would you still have it on your table?"

   Jones said nothing but just stared at him.

   "Don't tell me you've forgotten. When we were, seven? Knifes! marks!" There was no indifference in Jones action, he kept on staring hard. "Urhmm.... What is the name again." He asked himself. "DARK ROOM." he brought out his phone and showed him a picture of when they played it together. 

   He stood up hastily, visibly shaken. "No that can't be possible, i burnt the book myself."

   "Yeah! So?" Looked at the drawing.

   "No not that." He brought out a file from his cabinet, and showed him. This mark has been on every body found dead. Scrapped into their bodies and traced on the floor with their blood. 

   "Don't tell me. I..."

   "I need to hurry, I'll be back." Jones cut in. Running out of the office.

   "I don't like this different case they put us in." His voice echoed through the walls.

........................

   The door bell rang as Detective Jones walked in. He walks over to the reception with a dazed look, everything has changed since the last time he came in. The Bookshelfs looked more modern and arranged. The building was recently painted and decorated.

   "Good day Miss..." he looks at the tag on her upper body. " Miss Noneval."

   "Good day to you too Detective."

   He looks stunned. He wasn't expecting her to know, cause he wasn't wearing a badge or uniform. And like she read his mind, she spoke

   "You have been famous since taking lead in the case, everyone knows you now."

   "Oh!" He looks around, searching with his eyes.

   "You can tell me what you are looking for, I think that's my job." Miss Noneval mentioned.

   Detective Jones askes about the book, motioning that's it urgent, But was disappointed to hear that there was no copy around. "We had sent all the other copies back to the city after the incident" was her response. In his depressed state he inquires about the incident.

   "It was about some weeks ago when we noticed that books had started disappearing from the Library, so I made researches and realized that over 20 copies of the that specific books was missing and increasing fast. So I made a complain to the cops, and head office at the state. They took the remaining copies out." She looked around, then reduced her voice to a whisper. "It started a day before the first person was murdered." 

   Sadly he walked out with a tired shuffle.

   Days passed, turning into weeks, and he was yet to catch them. He linked all the dots together, making a circle, that he could tell the day of the next kill. He was at their tale everytime, that they felt threatened.

......................

   There was a shattering sound, like of glass, heard from the sitting room of detective Jones, that woke him up. He walked down the stairs calling his daughter's name to know what happened, but he got no response. He meet the sitting room Stark dark, he wondered what happened, as he walked up to the switch to turn it on. He saw a broken pieces of the window all around, and a Crest on the center table, he brings out his gun as he looks at every part of the sitting room, in case to see anyone still around. He walks up to the Crest, and opened it to see a beating human heart, and a letter, And the letter reads; Keep off! or your daughter would be next.

   Immediately he read it, he threw down the crest and ran off to his daughter's room, calling out her name. He burst into her room raising up his gun pointing at every direction.

   "Daddy what is it?" His 5 years old daughter queried.

   "Nothing my darling, nothing." He was delighted to see her sleeping. He looks at the paper one last time before ripping it apart. 

   He was now more determined in finding the criminals, they had threatened his family and he was going to get back at them, on many occasions his partner had advice him to pull out of the investigation after he learnt of the treat. But he remained defiant to his pleas, and kept to the chase.

   Jones could be seen in front of his desk, signing and arranging papers, when his phone ranged. He answered the call, 

   "Detective Jones speaking, please how may I help you?" There was no reply, he resaid it again but still no response, he waited a while then he heard his daughter's voice calling from the other line. "Cindy!" He shouted. 

   "Come to this location if you ever want to see her again. Alone!" Came another voice. He hurried of, leaving everything else behind. He dialled Adam's number, but it was went into voicemail. 

   All he could think of was his daughter, that a car almost ran into him. 

   "Hey, look at the road." Was what the American accent man shouted.

   Things went bad during the operation. Adam got shot as he jumbed in front of a bullet directed towards Cindy. Jones came into the warehouse, and shot a bullet into two of the culprit's heart and the other on the leg, but he escaped with the bullet in his leg. 

   Jones ran towards his daughter to pick her up, he met her crying, and shivering, so he gave her a reassuring hug to let her know she was safe. "Are you alright?" He asked.

   Uncle, Uncle, was the word she kept on repeating, Jones shifted his gaze to Adam who was still laying on the floor groaning. He rushed over........

    Jones Dialled 911... Adam held the phone... "No!" He said. "Go! Make him pay". Blood came out from his mouth as he spoke. Jones was reluctant as tears rolled down his cheeks.

   "Don't blame yourself, it isn't your fault." Adam uttered. "But is it because of me you are going to let many others die?"