(7:24)

Cassie woke up with her alarm hunting her ears. She felt around her nightstand in an attempt to grab her phone and turn the alarm off but sent the gadget falling to the floor instead.

“Wow,” she grumbled with her eyes still closed “I can already tell today is going to be a good day…”

(6:58)

She stepped out of the building and fixed her still-damp hair while waiting for the school bus.

The teen heard a squeak behind her and turned around to see one of her employees.

“You know it’s not time for work yet, right?” she asked, lowering her hand, allowing the rat to climb up.

The rat squealed as she got it closer to her ear.

“I see… yeah, that’s definitely suspicious.” She saw the bus approach and gently let the rodent drop to the ground “Tell the other to follow this security guard until further notice then” She opened her backpack and gave the rat a ham sandwich “Keep on the good work.” She said as it walked away into a dark alley on its hind legs.

She stepped onto the bus and sat in one of the front seats to avoid the mayhem going on in the back. She noticed the girl sitting next to her was trying to avoid eye contact.

“Is this seat taken or…” she asked shyly with her fake British accent, but the girl did not answer. Cassie examined her face… Oh yeah, this girl was in their class! She remembered her sitting near the board in science. Maybe she was shy? Cassie remembered what Adam told her yesterday “Oh, did Mark tell you to not talk with me, is that it?”

The girl looked around and fearfully nodded.

“Very well, I’ll keep quiet then,” she reassured with a kind smile.

The bus stopped near the N12 orphanage, where another bus from another school was being filled, and opened its doors, letting in a handful of kids.

Adam and David sat on the other side of the corridor and greeted her. They started talking about the math homework they received yesterday, and their conversation slowly derailed to a discussion about a serial killer that appeared that summer and had now four victims to his name, the most recent being announced that same morning.

“Yeah, I heard the last victim was the owner of a casino that once dated the first victim,” Adam said.

“Interesting. Do they have any suspects?” Cassie asked.

“Nope.” David said casually “They’re not even sure if he’s a foreigner or not.”

“Why?”

“He apparently took this pizza girl hostage, and she said he was always stitching accents,” he explained while searching for the news article on his phone “Here.” He said DMing her the link.

“Hmm…” She read the article attentively “A prostitute, a homeless man, a divorced mother, and the owner of a casino…”

“Do you have a theory?” Adam asked, eager to hear her talk more.

“Save for the prostitute and the owner of the casino, none of the victims seem to have any tie to each other or anything in common… This guy seems to be choosing his victims almost at random, or maybe he’s using the mother and homeless man as distractions, so he can target the prostitute and the casino owner while sending the police on a wild goose chase, or to use them as a counter-argument if they ever catch him.”

“How?” David asked.

“Yes, I could have a motive to get rid of the prostitute and the other guy, but why would I kill a homeless man or go through all that trouble of taking a pizza girl hostage and killing the other woman?” Cassie illustrated with a deep voice.

“Still, wouldn’t the cops realize the other two victims were red herrings?” Adam pointed out.

“Yes, but if they took the guy to court, these extra two victims could still be enough to raise doubts among the jury, and then the cops would have to show then irrefutable evidence or the jury could end up considering him innocent.”

“Actually…” a shy voice next to her whispered, “My uncle works in forensics. He told me that they found a note saying ‘try again’ clutched on the casino owner’s fist.” the girl said, “And the detective responsible for the investigation received a letter before they found the body a few hours later, telling them about the location of the body, etc.”

“Hmm…” Cassie thought for a moment and turned to the boys. “Or maybe the victims are random, and he’s doing it for the trill.”

They continued to talk as the bus reached its stop, letting them out along with the other students. The bell rang a few minutes later, sending them to history class.

(6:30)

Borialis exited the apartment he rented for his mission, after taking a bath and changing into some casual street clothes, and ran down the mossy stairs. He left the decrepit apartment building and entered his black SUV.

(5:58)

The servant parked the car in an old parking lot and gave a homeless man a ten on his way to an abandoned stadium.

He climbed through the rubble and into a moss and graffiti-filled bathroom. The man took his phone out of his pocket and clicked an icon with a cartoon snake eating apples and smiling. The cracked floor in front of him started trembling and lifted, revealing the entrance to a metal staircase with neon red lights.

The man descended the staircase as the hatch closed behind him, unaware of the couple of rats that managed to sneak in in time.

The metallic corridor illuminated as he walked deeper and deeper into the spacecraft. Finally, he reached the cockpit and took off his mask. The door closed behind him, separating the group of rats. All the presence lights turned off, and the screen lit up with a freakish red eye looking directly at the man.

“Identify yourself.” A feminine voice echoed.

The rat looked around and hid under one of the many computers in the room.

“Borialis. Servant of Dilsios’s royal bloodline,” he said calmly and clearly.

“Identity confirmed,” the voice said a few seconds later, turning all the lights in the cockpit and opening the door “Welcome aboard, Borialis.” The screen changed to a blue but still freakish eye. “Before we proceed with any business, I would like to report a rather alarming situation.”

“Sure.” He sat on the captain’s armchair “What’s the problem, Guerin?”

“Two days ago, at 4:56 PM, I detected voices coming from the surface and identified the words’ space’, ‘budget’, ‘blueprints’, and ‘deal’. This is just a hypothesis, but I fear someone might be planning on buying the stadium and reconstruct it.”

“And if someone tries to reconstruct it, they might find the spaceship.” He completed.

“Exactly. I suggest changing our location, just be safe,” Guerin said, in her typical emotionless voice.

“Agreed. Any ideas?” Borialis asked. He only knew so much about New York’s geography, so his mind drew a blank when he tried to think of a place big enough to hide the spaceship without raising suspicions.

“I suggest…” the screen changed to a map of New York and focused on a green zone with grey patches “The WWIII memorial zone,” The screen filled with pictures of ruined buildings being consumed by mother nature “My reports show that the zone has remained untouched since the end of the war. As a memorial and reminder of what war does. And it will probably remain untouched for the next few years.”

“WWIII memorial zone…” He examined the pictures and felt an eerie déjà vu, but it seemed like a good place to hide the spaceship so… “Sure, let’s move the ship as soon as possible.”

“We can go now if you wish.” She said as the screen changed back to a blue eye.

“Let’s move then,” he ordered, making himself comfortable and fastening his seatbelt.