I stared at all the clues I had collected over the past few weeks. Thin red threads connected each small detail: scraps from newspaper articles, names and addresses of suspects, and the different places where innocent people had been murdered. Most of the killings had taken place in the sprawling forest that encircled the small town. Normally, nothing bad ever happened here. That is, until a month ago, when the first people started to disappear.

Since the first murder, I had spent every day hunting for the killer.

Last night, he struck again. A group of three teenagers had been camping in the beautiful mountain forest—now found, all of them drained completely of blood.

"John… I can’t do this anymore."

I spun around and saw the weary, slightly heartbroken face of my wife.

"I know. I’m sorry," I murmured.

She was deeply worried about me. I had stopped doing anything but obsessively trying to catch this damned serial killer—with no success.

"I know it sounds harsh, but I think you should give up on this case," she murmured as her eyes drifted over the big wall covered in tangled hints and desperate theories.

"No! I’m almost there!" I insisted.

She pressed her fingers against her forehead, then pierced me with a disappointed glare.

"People are dying. I have to find him..."

I knew I was slowly losing her. The endless nights I spent awake, her pleading for me to come to bed, all the time I wasted chasing false leads—it was tearing us apart.

"You’re killing me, John," she whispered, as tears began to spill down her rosy cheeks.

I reached out, gently wiping them away.

"You know I love you," I whispered back as her dark, glistening eyes locked onto mine. "But you need to understand—this is bigger than us. I need to save this town."

She sniffed and straightened her posture, looking at me with a resolute expression.

"Okay. You’re right. I’ll let you do what you have to do. But promise me—next time you decide to hunt a dangerous serial killer in the middle of the night, you’ll tell me."

I frowned, confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don’t kid me! You can’t imagine how terrified I was when I woke up and found your side of the bed empty!"

She gazed at me as if I had lost my mind.

"I’m going to bed now. Goodnight," she muttered with a hollow voice and disappeared into the hallway.

My mind raced. I didn’t remember leaving last night. I hadn’t. I was asleep... wasn’t I?

I struggled to recall, but only an empty darkness met me.

My gaze drifted to the newspaper article about the three teenagers and then up to the old wooden mirror sitting on my desk.

I stared at my reflection.

It was me.

It was me.

"I need to leave this town," I whispered.