Devil's Whisper Chapter 132: A Box of Horror

"Sir, we're very close to identifying the killer, and soon you'll know his name," Jason assured him, his voice firm and unwavering.

"Bob, I understand you're deeply concerned that the killer is still roaming free in the city, causing fear and chaos," Kate interjected, her tone steady and confident. "But let me assure you of one thing—I didn’t collaborate with your department just to waste time or resources. I’m just as determined as you are to catch this monster and put an end to his reign of terror once and for all."

She paused briefly before continuing, "And another thing, Commissioner—there have been countless times in the past when police officers have worked alongside investigative journalists or even private detectives to crack the most complex, twisted cases. So if Jason and I are working together on this case, it doesn't mean we’re interfering or wasting each other’s time. It means we're increasing our chances of solving this case faster and more efficiently."

Commissioner Bob listened intently to Kate’s words, his gaze unwavering as he processed her point. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke.

"I need results. If this coalition of yours delivers those results, then I have no objections."

Both Jason and Kate exhaled deeply, relieved that they had avoided yet another pointless, time-consuming argument. The last thing they needed was bureaucratic obstacles slowing them down while a sadistic murderer was still on the loose.

"Kate, why did you come here?" Jason asked, voicing the question that had been on his mind since the moment he saw her outside his office. He had met with her just this morning, and now, without any prior notice, she was here again.

"I came here to show you something," Kate said, locking eyes with Jason, her expression serious and intense.

"What is it?"

"This morning, I received a parcel," Kate explained. "Before I could open it, you arrived, and after our meeting, I got caught up with other matters and forgot about it. An hour ago, just as I was about to leave my office, I remembered the parcel and finally opened it. Inside, I found this."

She reached into her bag and pulled out a medium-sized box, setting it down on the table in front of Jason.

"This box was wrapped in this paper," she added, pulling out a gray-colored sheet and placing it beside the package.

Jason studied the box carefully. It was made of sturdy brown cardboard with a tight-fitting lid. He retrieved a pair of gloves from his desk, slipped them on, and slowly lifted the lid. Inside, there was a folded sheet of paper resting on top of a small stack of photographs.

"I didn’t know what was inside or who had sent it, so I opened it without giving it much thought. But the moment I saw the contents—a cryptic message and several disturbing photos—I realized that this package came directly from the killer," Kate said, her voice filled with restrained anger.

Jason picked up the sheet of paper and carefully unfolded it. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the text.

"This is Persian," he murmured. "Once again, the killer has sent quatrains from the Rubaiyat."

"Yes," Kate affirmed. "Same as before."

Jason turned his attention to the bundle of photographs beneath the note. As he flipped through them, shock and disbelief settled across his face.

"The killer must have filmed the entire process of torturing and murdering Sasha Paula," Kate explained grimly. "He sent us these stills as a reminder that he's always one step ahead of us."

Jason heard Kate’s words but barely registered them as he examined the horrifying images. In the first photo, a large hammer was embedded deep into Sasha Paula’s skull. The expressions of pure agony, disbelief, and helplessness were frozen on her lifeless face, a stark reminder of the brutality she had endured in her final moments.

Jason swallowed hard and turned to the next photo. This one was even worse. A massive knife had severed Sasha’s hand, and her contorted face, twisted in an expression of unimaginable pain, was caught in the midst of an agonized scream.

Commissioner Bob took the stack of photos from Jason’s hands, scrutinizing them one by one. His grip tightened on the edge of the table as he processed the sheer savagery of the crime. How could someone be so cruel? So merciless? To take the life of a young girl in such a horrific manner—

He exhaled sharply, trying to push back his revulsion. He turned his gaze back toward Jason and Kate, his voice filled with unshakable determination.

"Find this monster and lock him up," he ordered sternly. "He doesn’t deserve a single moment of freedom."

Kate, unfazed by the horrific visuals, pulled out another paper from her bag and placed it on the table.

"I sent a photo of the quatrains to Aussie earlier," she said. "He translated them for me."

***The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,*** 

***Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor*** 

***Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,*** 

***Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.***

***And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky,*** 

***Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die,*** 

***Lift not your hands to It for help — for It*** 

***As impotently moves as you or I***

***YESTERDAY This Day's Madness did prepare;*** 

***TO-MORROW'S Silence, Triumph, or Despair:*** 

***Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why:*** 

***Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where***

***But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor*** 

***Of Earth, and up to Heav’n’s un-opening Door***

***You gaze TODAY, while You are You — how then*** 

***TOMORROW when You shall be You no more?***

After Jason finished reading all four quatrains, he handed the paper to the Commissioner.

"Kate, who delivered this package to you?" Jason inquired.

"It was my officer boy, and he mentioned it came through a regular courier company," Kate explained. "But when I contacted the courier company, they claimed ignorance. The sender had placed it in the outbox and paid the courier fee online."