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The Ring of Deadly Silence

January_Flower
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
In the quiet town of Salem, Massachusetts, a wave of gruesome murders shocks the community. A mysterious killer is targeting corrupt individuals, leaving behind mutilated bodies and cryptic messages. Detective Vincent Rainer embarks on a relentless hunt, unaware that the true monster might be hiding closer than he thinks... Justice has a shadow-and it's watching.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 01||The beginning of the nightmare

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In the heart of a city that seems calm on the surface, dark shadows hide, carrying the scent of death and mystery. Nothing warns of the coming danger until the horrifying truth is revealed, stirring terror in the souls. A killer like a moonless night, stirring only silence, ruling his realm with a fog of mystery, ending his victims in a biting silence like snow that suffocates the earth.

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On a sunny and pleasant day, a young woman in her twenties was lightly running toward the high school, carrying a small garbage bag in her hand. She paused briefly in front of a trash container and opened it intending to throw away the bag, but she immediately stepped back as an unbearable foul odor rose from within.

She placed the bag atop the container and was about to leave when a nearby shopkeeper came out shouting, "Oh damn it, girl... damn that fool!"

He approached the container grumbling, picked up the bag to throw it inside the metal drum, but suddenly froze in place, struck by an even worse stench. His features contorted as he glanced down at a black plastic bag at the bottom of the container, emitting the dreadful smell.

He cautiously reached out and grabbed it, but a drop of sticky chemical liquid leaked from the bag and fell onto his skin, causing a severe burning sensation that made him scream and drop the bag.

The bag rolled and partially opened... revealing human limbs cut with terrifying precision.

The man screamed in horror and collapsed to the ground in panic, while people gathered around him, shouting and wondering, unaware that they were at the beginning of a nightmare that would lead to more crimes...

About twenty minutes later…

The sounds of police and ambulance sirens grew louder in the neighborhood, followed by yellow tape cordoning off the area, and passersby trying to peek behind the barriers with their phone cameras.

Among the officers, a tall man in a dark gray suit stepped out of the car. His steps were calm but firm, and his gaze seemed to outpace his shadow as he scanned the scene.

Detective Vincent Rainer, the most renowned homicide investigator in Massachusetts—and its least smiling one.

He stood before the container without approaching too closely, looked at the paramedics who were beginning to lift the partially covered bag, then turned his eyes toward the lead officer and asked:

"When was the report made?"

– "About half an hour ago. A man from a nearby shop discovered human remains in this bag. We also have street camera footage."

"Was the bag touched?"

– "Yes, the first victim from fear, and the second during an attempt to open it."

"Good... our prints are contaminated now."

Vincent slowly approached, put on his leather gloves, and leaned slightly beside the container. He carefully opened the bag, revealing clearly a human arm severed at the shoulder, wrapped with transparent threads and secured with medical adhesive tape.

"The killer is meticulous... cautious... possibly has a medical background, or at least a passion for controlling details."

He raised his gray eyes toward the crowd behind the barriers and muttered:

"This isn't the first bag… and I don't think it will be the last."

Then he turned to the officers:

"I want all camera footage on this street from midnight until now... and start collecting all trash containers in the area, now."

Among the gathered crowd behind the yellow tape stood a young woman in her late twenties, holding her phone like the others trying to catch a glimpse of the crime without attracting attention. Her dark brown, almost black hair was tied carelessly, and her features were rough yet calm, even reassuring... very much so.

She wore a light beige coat and carried a canvas bag on her shoulder, as if heading to a nearby library or to buy a late breakfast. But her eyes, behind those clear glasses, observed every movement... every glance... every whisper.

When Detective Vincent Rainer left the crime scene, she slowly raised her phone and took a picture of him, then looked at the screen and smiled a faint, barely noticeable smile.

Her eyes dropped to a notification on her phone screen:

More dismembered bodies found on the outskirts of the forest.

She murmured softly, barely audible:

—This is getting worse.

Less than an hour later, at the edge of Salem's forest…

Birds' songs began to suffocate under the sounds of police and ambulance sirens, and the screeching of tires on the damp gravel. Among the trees, more yellow tapes surrounded three black bags of varying sizes, camouflaged with branches and leaves. The foul odor preceded the scene by dozens of meters.

Vincent Rainer arrived at the site, slightly turning his face away from the first gust of wind that carried the smell to him. He looked at the officers and said in a low voice:

"This is not an attempt to hide... it's a show."

He opened the first bag... a severed head of a man in his forties, eyes wide open, and his mouth stuffed with what appeared to be… torn pages from a book.

The second… hands tied with metal wire, fingers painted a dark red, as if the killer wanted to mimic nail polish.

The third… no corpse. Only a small bag, inside which was a torn cloth doll, and in its mouth, a paper written in elegant handwriting:

"The hardest part… is choosing who deserves."

Vincent read the phrase twice, then muttered slowly:

"He doesn't just kill… he chooses."

Then he raised his eyes toward the tall trees, as if

addressing the very air:

"And you... are watching now, aren't you?"

The sun shyly entered through the tall windows, casting soft shades of blue and purple on the pale white walls. The atmosphere was calm, filled only with the footsteps of nurses and the monotonous sounds of medical devices.

In one of the rooms, "she" was organizing medications on a mobile cart, with precise and methodical movements, as if performing an unerring ritual.

She wore a light blue nurse's uniform, her hair tied up in the same careless way, yet here she seemed more present… more "alive."

A young colleague entered with a smile:

– "Ah, Lilis, did you hear the news? A body was found in the forest today… people in this town have gone mad!"

Lilis calmly lifted her head, smiled softly, and looked directly at her:

– "Yes, I heard… evil seems to favor quiet places. Be careful, please. Things are getting scarier."

Her colleague chuckled lightly, "Of course, dear, don't worry, I know how to fight," she said while glancing at her small screen following the news about the forest crime, where the doll was found.

Lilis closed the medication drawer, gently pressed the small lock, then pushed the cart toward the door. Before leaving, she turned to her colleague and asked:

– "When is your engagement party?"

– "Oh, I didn't tell you? I broke it off."

Lilis smiled softly, briefly:

– "Unfortunately, you're a precious gem; he doesn't deserve you…"

Then she left, pushing her cart down the long corridor.

Her steps were soft, nearly silent, syncing with the beeping of machines behind closed doors.

She paused briefly by a closed room, looked at the name on the door… a familiar name to her.

She took a small glove from her pocket, ran her fingers over it quietly. Then sighed, whispering almost inaudibly:

– "Some don't realize how lucky they are when they are forgotten."

---

Salem Police Department, shortly after midnight…

The office was dimly lit, filled with the usual sounds of shuffling papers and coffee cups being placed on tables forming the familiar symphony of exhaustion. Detective Vincent Rainer sat before a large screen, reviewing camera footage captured near the first crime scene.

The video was silent, black and white, showing the street from a high angle… cars passing, people entering and exiting shops, with the trash container clearly visible on the left side of the screen.

The footage progressed… two a.m. It paused. He replayed the clip.

An unknown person, relatively tall, wearing a faded long coat, stood by the container for a few seconds. No face visible, only a body moving confidently, opening the container, placing the bag inside, then calmly walking away. Everything took less than twelve seconds.

Vincent froze for a moment. He muttered:

– "Don't rush… don't stress… this is someone who knows how to control their nerves."

He jotted a note in his notebook:

"Long coat. No gloves. Carried the bag with left hand only… height about average male… movement very smooth… experienced."

Then he glanced at another screen showing pictures from the second crime scene—the doll…the note…

Suddenly, he pressed a button to zoom in on the note. The paper inside the doll's mouth was no ordinary piece.

It showed precise typing, like from a typewriter, but he noticed something else…

In the corner of the paper, a tiny handwritten number was almost hidden… number: 117-B.

He looked to the officer sitting beside him:

– "I want analysis of all symbols on this paper… this number might be a sequence or a file code. Check hospital records, libraries, labs—any place that might use such codes."

Then he added, in a sharper tone:

– "And bring me everyone working in the medical field… especially those with dissection or nursing experience."

---

Elsewhere, far from the noise of the police center…

Bryce sat at his desk, nervously writing in his notebook stamped "117-B."

The room was messy… scattered papers, printed photos of victims, overlapping notes resembling personal investigation maps. On the wall, a Salem map was pinned with red lines and push pins.

He rotated the paper roll inside an old typewriter with a steady rhythm. His eyes fixed on the white page now marked with a few lines. The room was still, the small candle flickered softly on the walls.

He wrote:

"117-B… a unique case. The equation is clear, but incomplete. Who controls fear? And who makes beauty from chaos?"

He paused. Removed the paper and set it aside. Then opened the leather-bound notebook, flipping its pages quickly. Each page contained anatomical drawings, cut-outs from old crime news, elegantly handwritten quotes, and many names.

Then he stopped at

one page only, almost blank except for a name written in the center, in black ink…

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Welcome to a story full of mystery and horror, where every step leads you deeper into an endless nightmare. In The Deadly Silence, the crimes are not just ordinary incidents, but signs of a dark tale hiding dangerous secrets and merciless people.

Are you ready to dive into a world ruled by fate and confront a ruthless killer? Join me on this thrilling journey that will reveal the true face of justice. Enjoy!⁦⁦⁦<(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁩⁠>⁩⁦