Devil's Whisper Chapter 97: A Target in the Dark

Jason could hardly believe what he was hearing. Nine men were murdered, their lives taken as part of some twisted ritual, all to summon a force as dark and dangerous as Baphomet. The enormity of the situation weighed heavily on him, and the fear for Kate’s safety gnawed at him in a way he had never felt before. He had to protect her, no matter the cost.

"At the time of the murders, when the nine Yarrabura men were butchered, we thought it was just a case of rivalry, that the killer had murdered them over some past dispute... None of us had any idea that the killer was a fanatic person trying to summon a monster," he said, his voice faltering slightly as he recounted the earlier investigation. The realization that it was something far darker, far more sinister, than anyone had imagined was almost too much for him to bear.

Kate nodded, her expression grim as she confirmed his worst fears. "Yes, the killer sacrificed nine men who were related to each other in some way and summoned Baphomet," she said, her voice quiet but firm. She paused, the weight of the truth settling heavily on her shoulders before continuing. "And the killer didn’t stop there... He called Baphomet and initiated a vicious cycle of murder to provide prey for Baphomet so it could thrive and feast on Earth... He killed my parents, and then Ryder, and I’m sure he must have killed other people too, whose murders are not even in the police record," Kate said, her eyes darkening as she spoke of the horrific events that had shattered her life.

Jason’s face was a mask of shock as he absorbed the implications of her words. He stared at her, his thoughts racing, struggling to piece it all together. "Kate, this is truly shocking... I never imagined that the killer of the Yarrabura people and the killer of Ryder and your parents would be the same person."

Kate gave a short, bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Thanks to Jira, who told me about the murders of his people, I was able to piece this together. Out of curiosity, I opened the file of those murders, and now a strong link has been established between past and present murders."

Jason nodded, his gaze never leaving Kate’s. "You did a great job," he said, his voice full of admiration for her determination. Despite the horror of the situation, Kate had been relentless in her pursuit of the truth. She had uncovered something that no one else had even considered, and it was that pursuit that might save them all in the end.

Kate, however, seemed distracted, her mind still racing as she thought about the next steps. "Jason, where is the sketch of the killer who murdered the Yarrabura people?"

"I have it on my laptop," Jason replied without hesitation. His mind was still reeling from everything Kate had just shared, but he understood that this was just the beginning. There was no time for hesitation now. They needed to stay focused.

"Give it to me... I need to see it," Kate said, her voice taking on an edge of urgency. She needed to see the sketch, needed to compare it with what she already knew. It could hold the key to unlocking the killer’s identity—and it was one step closer to solving this nightmare.

"Okay, I’ll send the photo to you," Jason said, quickly pulling out his phone to find the file. He tapped a few times, sending the image to Kate’s phone before looking back at her.

Kate nodded in acknowledgment, though her mind was already racing ahead, weaving through the tangled threads of the case with relentless determination. There was still so much more they needed to uncover, so many shadows yet to pierce with light.

“Jason, there’s something else,” she said, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper, barely audible above the faint rustle of the wind through the barren police station yard.

Jason, who had been rising from his chair, froze mid-motion at the sound of her voice. He sank back down slowly, his heart thudding against his ribcage with a force that stole his breath.

What could she say now? His mind spun with possibilities—each one a flicker of hope tangled with dread. Was she about to ask for his help, to lean on him in a way she rarely did? That would be a sign of trust, a crack in the guarded wall she kept around her heart, a step closer to the bond he secretly craved. His chest flared with a rush of warmth at the thought, but it was swiftly eclipsed by a deep, gnawing concern.

“And what’s that?” he asked, striving for calm, though his voice betrayed a slight tremor despite his efforts to steady it.

Kate’s eyes dropped to the cracked marble floor for a fleeting moment, a rare hesitation, before lifting to meet his once more. There was a quiet intensity in her stare, a flicker of something dangerous—almost feral—glinting in the depths as she spoke.

“I think I’m going to be the next target of the killer,” she said in a low, almost ominous voice.

The statement hung in the air like a dark cloud.

Jason’s heart skipped a beat, then slammed against his chest as if trying to break free. His mind stumbled, grappling with the sheer weight of what she’d just said. He’d braced himself for many things—new evidence, a lead, even a wild theory—but not this. Not the stark, personal danger she was placing herself in.

“What are you saying?” he asked, his voice suddenly strained, cracking with a raw mix of fear and confusion. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of his chair so tightly the metal groaned under his fingers, as if anchoring himself against the tidal wave of her words.

He’d always been protective of Kate—her sharp mind, her relentless drive—but now that instinct surged into overdrive, a primal need to shield her from the unseen threat she was naming. The thought of the killer coming for her, of losing her to this darkness, was unbearable—he wouldn’t let it happen, couldn’t let it happen.

Kate held his gaze, her expression solemn, unyielding, though a faint tremor of vulnerability flickered beneath her resolve.

“I’m saying this based on the messages I deciphered from the quatrains of the Rubaiyat,” she explained, her voice steady but taut, like a wire stretched to its breaking point.

Jason’s eyes narrowed, his mind latching onto a familiar name amid the chaos of her revelation.

“Did Aussie send the translation?”

“Yes, he sent me the translation this morning while I was in my office,” Kate replied, her voice tightening with the memory of that moment. “Rodrick was there, taking a report from me about the priest’s account. I showed him the translation, and together we deciphered a message from it.” She paused, the tension between them coiling tighter as the weight of their discovery settled into the air. Her fingers twitched slightly, betraying the strain she fought to conceal. “It’s not just speculation, Jason—this is deliberate. The killer’s moves, Baphomet’s presence, it’s all part of a plan, and I’m in its crosshairs.”

“Show me the quatrains,” he demanded, his voice tense with a skepticism he clung to like a lifeline. “I’m sure you and Rodrick interpreted it incorrectly.” He didn’t doubt Kate’s brilliance or Rodrick’s diligence, but the idea that she’d misread the message was a desperate hope he couldn’t let go of—not when the alternative meant she was marked for death. He needed to dissect it himself, to find a flaw, a loophole, anything to pull her back from the edge.

Kate didn’t flinch at his challenge. She reached into her pocket with a calm that belied the storm within her, retrieving her phone once more. Unlocking it with a swift motion, she pulled up the message from Aussie—a series of screenshots and notes detailing the translated quatrains.