The Brutality!

Lucas and Freya walked back across the courtyard, side by side, but not saying much. The tension between them wasn’t loud—but it was there. Just something sitting in the air.

Valeria was lounging on a low brick ledge, phone in hand, legs crossed, while Andres was pacing in a circle like he was rehearsing for a one-man comedy show.

“We’re all gonna die,” he muttered dramatically. “One by one. It starts with jocks, but it won’t end there—watch. I’m next. I just know it.”

“Shut up,” Freya said without looking at him.

Lucas stopped in front of them.

“We’re heading out. Need to check on something.”

Valeria glanced up. “What something? Who?”

Lucas looked down for a second, then muttered, “We’re looking for Diego. He’ll be near the lake.”

Freya looked at him. “How do you know?”

Lucas’s gaze drifted off for a moment. “It’s the kind of place you go when you want to be alone. He’s been going there lately... but it used to be my spot.”

Freya raised an eyebrow.

Lucas shrugged slightly. “It’s where I used to go… to lie back. Think. It’s peaceful.”

That was all he said. But something in his voice told Freya there was more he wasn’t saying.

He paused. “That’s where he’ll be. Smoking, probably. It’s what he does when something messes with him.”

Freya nodded, more thoughtful now.

Andres, meanwhile, was pretending to dramatically write a goodbye letter to “the future generations of Duskwater.”

Valeria rolled her eyes. “God, you’re such a drama queen.”

“I prefer legend,” Andres corrected, pointing at her with exaggerated flair.

Lucas looked at Freya, then at the trees past the edge of campus. “Let’s go.”

Freya stepped beside him, her expression unreadable. “Lead the way.”

Lucas and Andres walked side by side, heading toward the college gate, boots crunching softly on the gravel path. A few steps behind, Freya and Valeria followed, their conversation low and unreadable under the hum of campus chatter.

Just as they reached the main sidewalk, a voice crackled over the campus loudspeakers—loud, sharp, and unexpected.

“All students, please report to the basketball court immediately. Faculty will be addressing the incident shortly.”

Everyone paused. Heads turned. Whispers buzzed.

Lucas stopped walking, his eyes flicking up toward one of the mounted speakers, then to Freya.

“We don’t have time to split up,” she said quietly, already knowing what was coming.

Lucas shook his head. “We need to.”

He looked at her, steady. “You and Andres go. See what they’re telling the students. I’ll go with Valeria—check in with Diego.”

Freya hesitated. “You sure?”

Lucas glanced toward the trees beyond campus. “Yeah. He’s already seen something. I need to know what.”

Freya nodded once, then turned to Andres, who had already begun dramatically preparing a speech about “courtroom testimonies.”

Valeria, brushing her hair off her shoulder, looked at Lucas with a raised brow. “So... we're skipping class now?”

Lucas gave a dry smirk. “Guess so.”

Without another word, the group split—two heading toward answers, two chasing questions.

And somewhere beyond the trees, the lake waited quietly.

Freya and Andres moved through the crowd toward the basketball court, already filled with murmurs and scattered confusion. Most of the student body had shown up—some talking in hushed circles, others just standing and waiting. Only a few faculty members were present, pacing slowly and checking their watches.

Andres whispered, “Bet they’re about to pull a 'we value your mental health' speech while hiding half the truth.”

Freya didn’t answer. She scanned the crowd, her arms crossed, eyes sharp.

Within minutes, the court filled completely. The loudspeakers gave a low screech, followed by the sound of a mic being tapped.

The principal stepped forward, adjusting his glasses. “Good morning.”

The crowd quieted.

He cleared his throat. “It is with deep sadness that we inform you of the passing of one of our students—Liam Scott, a member of our college basketball team.”

A wave of hushed gasps spread across the students.

“Liam was a dedicated athlete, a kind soul, and a friend to many. We understand this news may be difficult to process. Counseling will be available for any student in need. Please know, we are doing everything we can to support the investigation and ensure the safety and well-being of our campus.”

The speech continued—formal, respectful, and safe.

---

Meanwhile…

A few miles away, a soft rumble echoed through the quiet roads winding out of town. Lucas gripped the handles of his old-school cruiser—an American-style vintage motorcycle, somewhere between a Harley and an old Indian Chief. It wasn’t loud, but it growled low and steady as it moved, the kind of bike that made heads turn without trying.

Valeria held on behind him, her arms wrapped tight around his waist. Her blonde hair whipped gently in the wind, her cheek brushing the back of his shoulder.

“Liam Scott…” she said above the sound of the wind. “You think it was just an accident?”

Lucas didn’t answer at first, eyes locked on the winding road.

“What if it wasn’t?” Valeria asked. “I mean, what if someone did it? Who’d wanna kill Liam?”

Lucas stayed silent for another second before replying, low. “Don’t know. That’s what we’re gonna figure out.”

Valeria leaned her head forward a little, resting her chin against his back. “Creepy as hell thinking someone could’ve done it... in a place like Duskwater.”

Lucas’s jaw clenched slightly. He didn’t say anything more.

The road narrowed. Trees started to gather tighter around them as the sunlight broke through in golden shafts between the leaves. The air was thick with the scent of moss and wildflowers.

The bike came to a stop just off the dirt path that led through the woods.

They climbed off.

Birds chirped somewhere deep in the trees, and a distant splash echoed from the direction of the lake.

Still walking through the woods, they weren’t there yet—but the air had already changed.

Back on the basketball court, the principal’s voice continued over the mic, steady and rehearsed. “Liam Scott was a valuable member of our student body. His presence will be greatly missed...”

But then, one of the basketball jocks—Daniel, broad-shouldered and red in the face—stepped forward from the side of the crowd and cut him off.

“Stop,” he said, loud enough to hush the back row.

The principal blinked, startled.

“Stop buttering it up,” Daniel snapped. “Tell us what happened. Tell us what we’re supposed to do. He was our friend. And we had to find out through whispers and chaos. We deserve the truth.”

A thick silence followed. The crowd tensed.

The principal adjusted his mic. Cleared his throat. His face tightened.

“You’re right,” he said softly. “You’re right. And I apologize for holding it back.”

A long pause. The breeze barely moved.

“It… was a murder.”

The silence that followed wasn’t just quiet. It dropped over the court like a curtain.

Even Andres—mid-thought—froze.

The principal continued, quieter now. “He was choked. No weapons involved. No noise. Time of death is estimated between 10 PM and 12 AM last night.”

He looked down at his notes and then back up, voice cracking just slightly. “That’s all I can confirm at the moment.”

Another pause.

“To give everyone space, today is declared a full day off. Tomorrow—Saturday—will be a half day. Campus will remain open, but optional. Anyone who needs counseling support, please don’t hesitate. It’s available for everyone.”

His tone hardened a bit near the end. “And if any of you know anything—no matter how small—it’s your responsibility to come forward.”

With one final throat clear, he stepped back. “That’s all. You may leave.”

The mic cut out.

Freya turned to Andres, eyes wide. “Murder?” she whispered. “He was choked?”

Andres blinked fast. “Bro. BRO. I thought he slipped in the shower or like—ate expired cafeteria food—murder was not in my bingo card!”

Freya didn’t respond. Her mind was somewhere else.

---

Meanwhile...

The wind had softened as Lucas and Valeria reached the lake clearing. The trees opened up to reveal a wide stretch of water, still and glowing under the late morning sun.

Patches of lotus floated lazily near the edges. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and wild grass. It was quiet—almost too quiet.

But there was no one there.

Valeria looked around, frowning. “So… this the secret hideout?” she asked.

Lucas’s eyes swept the lakeside slowly. “Yeah.”

She crossed her arms. “You sure he’d be here?”

Lucas exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening. “He usually is.”

Valeria turned a slow circle, scanning the treeline. “Well… he’s not now.”

They stood in the silence for a second, just the wind, the trees, and the water.

Something about it didn’t feel right.

Lucas stepped ahead of Valeria, his boots sinking slightly into the soft earth as he neared the lake’s edge. Something was wrong. The silence wasn’t peaceful—it was hollow.

His eyes scanned the grass.

There—half-buried in the dirt near the water—was a half-smoked cigarette, still warm. Just beside it, the grass was bent, disturbed. A set of drag marks etched into the soil, wild and messy. As if someone had fought. Struggled.

“Val,” he called, his voice lower than before. “Something happened here.”

Valeria moved up beside him, her expression shifting quickly from confusion to alarm.

Lucas followed the drag marks, crouching down. He spotted blood. Faint at first. Then more.

They both stood now, moving slowly—like the air itself had thickened.

And then they saw it.

A few yards deeper into the woods, just off the path—Diego.

His body was nailed upside down to a tree, limbs bent unnaturally, skin bruised, gashed, torn. His head hung low, twisted slightly to one side.

One half of his skull was smashed in, the inside of it spilling down the bark like red paint. The other half was untouched, just drenched in blood. His eyes were wide open. Still.

Valeria froze mid-step and gasped so loud it cracked through the woods.

“No—oh my god—Lucas—” she backed away, clutching her mouth before stumbling into his chest. Her breathing turned ragged as she buried her face in him, hands trembling.

Lucas held her, locking eyes with the body in front of them. His throat was tight.

“We need to go,” he muttered. “We’re calling this in.”

Just before he turned away, something caught his eye.

A small note, weathered and torn, lay crumpled on the dirt beneath Diego’s body. Lucas stared at it… but didn’t pick it up.

Not now.

He turned, arm around Valeria as he led her out from the trees and back toward the roadside.

She sat on the back of his bike, still trying to steady her breath. Her mascara had smudged under her eyes. Lucas reached into the side pouch and handed her a bottle of water, unscrewed and cold.

Lucas pulled out his phone, his fingers tightening slightly as he dialed. The ringing barely lasted.

“Duskwater PD. Officer Frank speaking.”

“Uncle Frank,” Lucas said, voice tense. “It’s me.”

There was a pause on the line. “Lucas?”

“Yeah. I’m at the lake… the old spot.”

Another beat of silence.

“There’s a body,” Lucas continued. “It’s Diego Alvarez. He’s dead. Brutally murdered. You need to come now.”

The other end went quiet, but Lucas could almost hear the shift in Frank’s tone—like a switch flipping.

“Is anyone else with you?”

“Valeria’s here.”

“Listen to me carefully,” Frank said, firm now. “Don’t go near the body. Don’t touch a damn thing. Stay by the road, and wait for me.”

Lucas nodded, jaw clenched. “Got it.”