CONFIDENTIAL INVESTIGATIVE REPORT

  Department of Criminal Investigations

  Homicide and Behavioral Analysis Unit

  Case No: 08-23-197

  Date: March 10, 2025

  Prepared by: Detective Wayne Rigsby

  Ciro Nerone, dubbed “The Scourge”, by both the media and law enforcement, has been active for years. Son of the most notorious serial killer couple in the world, Nerone follows in his parents’ footsteps. As an individual, while not known to the public, he has been active for almost a decade, not even considering the multiple murders he had been found guilty of assisting with as a mere child. He has a confirmed total of eighteen murders, found through forensic evidence, behavioral profiling, and crime scene signatures. There is a high probability his true body count is much higher.

  Nerone has eluded multiple branches of police. Moving from state to state, he had yet to be caught. That’s when our department finally gained a clue to his location. We had made the discovery that The Scourge had changed his name. He began a new life under the name “Ciro Adams.” When we had finally gained the intel, we rushed to his known address. The room indicated that Nerone had become an alcoholic. He kept a dog that was barely fed. The dog led us to the bathroom. Lying in the bathtub, we found the dead body of Cassandra Lyles, a psychologist. While their connection remains unknown as of yet, we can assume that Lyles has information on the suspect.

  We staked out his apartment and his known locations for weeks. It is my professional opinion that The Scourge once again fled to another state.

  The Rest Of The Documents Regarding Ciro Nerone Are Classified.

  Await Declassification.

  ***

  Ciro’s eyes fluttered open. A dim, flickering light bulb stared back down at him. The cold, metallic scent of the room made his stomach churn. A low static buzz of electricity vibrated in his ears. He blinked aggressively, trying to wake himself up, but everything was a blur. What the fuck is going on?

  The room felt cramped; the walls stained with dark patches of mold and watermarks. An exposed pipe snaked across the ceiling, part of it disconnected and hanging in the room’s corner. A single window sat in the middle of the wall, smeared in grime, allowing only a faint light to escape through. A faint glow of green filtered in, hinting at something unnatural in the sky.

  Ciro pushed himself up slowly, his head spinning. His mouth was dry, causing an ache in his throat every time he swallowed. “Where am I?” he muttered, his legs trembling beneath him. He stumbled to the only door in the room. It was dark and wooden, with a slight decay in certain areas.

  “Hey… Is anyone out there?” he shouted. Only to be answered by silence. He fell to his knees, peaking through the keyhole only to see another door identical to this one opposite the hallway. The air was thick and humid, making it difficult to breathe. Ciro steadied himself back onto his feet and paced the room, his heart quickening.

  Deep breaths. Come on now.

  There was no furniture other than a small single bed with a metal frame and a dirty mattress. In the opposite corner was a rusted sink, with a brown stain dripping down the side. Well, that’s disgusting.

  His eyes darted to the window. The smeared grime offered no hint of what might lie beyond. Using his sleeve, he wiped some of the dirt off the window. Ciro brought his eye towards the small smudge of transparent clarity. He inhaled deeply and held his breath as he gazed through the filth at the urban landscape spread out before him. Amalgamated shadows played off the nearby structures, steeping them in a menacing twilight. Towering structures that once scraped the heavens now leaned precariously, their skeletal frames crumbling under the weight of time and neglect. The streets below were a labyrinth of debris: shattered concrete, twisted metal, and splintered wood piled haphazardly, as if a great catastrophe had swept through and left nothing untouched.

  The sky shone with an ethereal shade of dark green and purple, shot through with the faint, pulsing light of the dying sun. It loomed above the cratered landscape like a suffocating blanket, nearly touching the sharp peaks of the slate-gray mountains that surrounded the valley. The otherworldly terrain lay illuminated in the odd glow of the massive moon that hung lifelessly just above the horizon.

  Among the debris, shattered fluorescent signs pulsed feebly, their lapidary colors reduced to an anemic light. The words they once spelled shone only briefly before going out altogether, leaving behind nothing but the shadows of letters in the darkness. The dust thickened the air with a dead silence, only occasionally interrupted by the far-off groan of some metal contraption that had lost its foundation.

  Ciro put his hand on the glass, the grime sticking to his fingertips. His eyes grew wide as he stared into this strange realm. He felt his heart sinking as he took in the details of this world, so different from his own. The gnawing realisation that Ciro was far from home ate at him.

  But he couldn’t just stand idly by.

  “Think, Ciro.” He turned back to the door, inspecting it now. He traced his finger along the edges. Hinges bolted the door, but the frame was weak and rusted, with flakes of wood falling off at his touch. Summoning what little strength he had, he kicked at the edge of the door near the handle. The impact sent a jolt of pain into his leg, sending him down onto the floor.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He pushed himself back up with a grunt of pain, noticing the door slightly caved in by his kick. Ignoring the pain, Ciro charged shoulder first into the door again and again. Until, with a deafening screech, the door burst open.

  Ciro once again found himself on the floor, coughing intensely after inhaling a cloud of dust. The hallway was dimly lit, and the air was more oppressive than in the room. Peeling wallpaper with a floral pattern lined the walls, barely visible under the mold. Exposed wires dangled from the ceiling, sparking slightly.

  The hallway stretched in both directions, but the silence was eerie. He pulled himself up with the use of the other door, each movement echoing loudly. Ciro lumbered down the hallway, rattling each doorknob. Of course they’re all locked.

  A faint sound forced Ciro to a stop. Scratching, like nails on wood, but then it halted. Ciro continued cautiously. Approaching the end of the hallway, he found the doorway to the stairwell. He pushed against it, but it wouldn’t budge. He glanced through the door window, revealing it to be blocked by piles of rubble and old furniture.

  Well, that’s just fantastic. Exactly what I needed. I guess that’s not an option anymore.

  Ciro slowly retraced his steps, his eyes darting everywhere, trying to catch anything he might have potentially missed. The lights flickered on and off, casting a sinister darkness that sent a shiver through his body. His heart raced every time the darkness lingered, his eyes tricking him into seeing things that weren’t there.

  Desperation fueled his resolve as he continuously barged into the stairwell door, but it refused to budge. The other doors were no different, being slightly more stable than the door he broke down. His body weakened as he slid down the wall at the end of the hallway, a slight chuckle escaping his mouth.

  “How the hell did I end up in this mess?” A sigh escaped through his lips.

  Ciro awakened, not realizing he had dozed off. Ah, shit. My head. A piercing pain shot through his forehead as he forced himself to stand up. The lights were no longer flickering. He was alone in the darkness. An uneasy feeling made Ciro shudder. The feeling that someone was watching him lingered.

  Upon returning to the room he found himself in, the unnatural green light had become slightly darker. He inspected the window once again. Layers of mold and grime hardened around the edges. Ciro gave the handle a twist and pulled, but like every door in this building, it didn’t budge.

  In the corner of his eye, he noticed a metal bar from the frame of the bed hanging loosely. Approaching the pole, he grabbed it firmly and ripped it off. He approached the window once again, holding the pole like a baseball bat. He swung as hard as he could, but the pole only bounced off, shaking, sending a sharp vibration of pain through his wrist and forearm. He swung again and again, but the window refused to yield.

  “Come on!” He screamed, a desperation in his voice as he threw the pole across the room with all his might.

  Ciro collapsed to the ground, wallowing in self-pity. His head hung low as a single tear fell down his cheek. Frustration and pain rounded up. The only thing on Ciro’s mind was his cravings for a mouthful of vodka. He swayed in a daze, his mind becoming a clear state as he lost all motivation to even get up off the ground.

  He tumbled onto his back.

  ***

  Once again, Ciro awoke with a gasp, only to find himself back in that room. His mind was full of dread. Everything felt like a never-ending loop of misery. He twisted the knob on the sink, only to find no water but a nauseating smell instead.

  Ciro ran his fingers through his hair, which felt oddly clean considering he hadn’t washed in weeks. He peeked into the hallway, only to find darkness. I’m not going through that again. He picked up the pole he threw and returned to the window, slowly using the pole to dig into the mold and grime stuck along the edges.

  What felt like hours passed as a pile of mold grew on the window ledge. Ciro remained drenched in his sweat, his once pristine lab specimen suit covered in muck and dirt. He once again grabbed onto the window handle and steadied himself with one foot on the window ledge. He yanked at the window, hearing the mold and grime slowly ripping a part, the window groaned in protest, but it finally gave way. Ciro stumbled backwards in a loss of balance, his head meeting the floor. Well, that hurt.

  “God, I’m really getting sick of this floor.” His arms quivered as he pushed himself up, balancing on the metal pole. He stumbled over to the window ledge, peering out to see an otherworldly landscape.

  The sky was an eerie green, with swirling dark clouds with streaks of blue lightning. A faint hum filled the air, coming from no discernible source. “This… can’t be real.” Ciro’s eyes widened, now bloodshot from the damp, musty air.

  Directly below the window was a narrow balcony, the railing rusted and crooked. The only way was down. He climbed onto the window ledge, the cold metal biting into his palms, the drop seeming further than before. His body screamed in retaliation, but his mind was already made up. What have I got to lose? He swung his legs over the edge. He let gravity take its course.

  Ciro landed, sending a jolt through his legs as he tumbled into the rusted railing. The whole balcony creaked ominously, but held. Ciro looked behind him to find a cracked glass door. He attempted to peer inside, only to find a broken reflection of himself. I’ve definitely seen better days.

  He slid the door open cautiously. The darkness inside was nearly complete. His eyes adjusted to the darkness. The room was larger and seemed more well kept than what he was previously in. He hugged the wall, letting his hand lead out in front of him until he came to a door similar to what he broke down. Please, just work. He gave the door handle a rattling turn for it to open with ease. “Ha ha!” but his laughter came to an immediate halt.

  Ciro’s eyes locked onto a figure of enormous size in the distance across the room, its shape unsettlingly human but undeniably extraterrestrial. The being’s skin was a mottled gray, rough and misshapen like eroded stone, shimmering under the strange purple light permeating from a nearby window. Gills along the sides of its thick neck flared with each breath it took. The sound sent echoes of icy dread down Ciro’s back.

  The figure’s head turned towards him with an unnatural speed that Ciro couldn’t comprehend, and its sunken, glowing eyes focused in on him with a predatory intensity. Ciro felt something cold and heavy settle in the pit of his stomach, and his chest tightened as dread washed over him. The thing straightened, its muscular frame appearing to tremble with the tension of a coiled spring, ready to lunge.

  Ciro’s pulse hammered as the creature’s gills expanded again, emitting a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a hiss and that somehow managed to echo through the room.

  “You have got to be kidding me…”