"You want to tag along?" Lena asked Hayes.

"Well, yeah!" Hayes replied with a grin so wide it might split his face. "Can't leave all these cases to you alone, right? Otherwise, I just might be out of a job!" His laughter boomed, loud and jarring, bouncing off the sterile walls and almost rattling the half-empty coffee mugs on Dolores’s desk.

Colby, standing just behind him to the right, shook his head and rolled his eyes. Without a word, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the lab, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.

"Don't feel obligated to go along with his antics, dear," Dolores said with a warm chuckle, brushing a few silvery strands of hair behind her ear. “He’s like a young boy with a new toy right now.”

"I am not!" Hayes argued, indignant as he gestured to himself. "Who wouldn’t want to go back to the past and experience life as it was in a bygone time?"

Dolores merely shook her head with that same fond smile as she returned to her paperwork. “It’s not so simple though, is it, dearie? Otherwise, Miss Lena would have spoken up about this power much earlier.”

Lena gave a soft nod, her lips pursing in thought. “I can’t go as I please, especially for pleasure trips. The… voices of the victims call to me. I think they act as a ley line, to ground the portal that comes to that moment in time for me to step through.”

Hayes blinked slowly, pretending to comprehend what she was saying. “Soooo… can I come or not?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest and arching a brow dramatically.

“We can try it,” Lena replied, exhaling and gripping the photograph of Amelia Coventry in her hand. “But I don’t know what’ll happen.”

A sudden wail echoed through the room, a wail only Lena could hear.

“No, please don’t! I just—AHH!”

A swirl of darkness formed above the floor like ink in water, the energy snapping and pulsing with an ominous hum. The portal had arrived.

“Woah,” Hayes whispered, eyes wide as dinner plates. “That’s… something else.” He reached out, his fingers almost brushing the surface—but then—“OW! Motherf*cker!” He yanked his hand back, hissing as he clutched it.

“What?! What happened?!” Lena rushed over, taking his hand gently.

Red welts and burn marks had formed across his fingertips. “Oh no… I’m so sorry,” she murmured, brows furrowing.

“It’s alright, Lena. Really,” Hayes said through a pained smile, still gripping his hand. “Don’t worry about me. Go help that girl’s family by finding her killer.”

Dolores was already halfway back with a first-aid kit for Hayes. Lena nodded, solemn. “Okay. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

With that, she stepped through the portal, notepad in hand—and vanished.

---

Date: June 14, 1975

The first thing Lena noticed was the smell of smoke—wood smoke, mingled with summer heat and a faint trace of marshmallows. She stood just beyond a clearing, moonlight filtering through the trees. In the distance, voices sang around a bonfire, accompanied by the soft strumming of a guitar.

“Oh yes, indeed we know

That people will find a way to go

No matter what the man said…”

The sound made her pause. She didn’t recognize the tune, yet it tugged at something warm and nostalgic inside her.

She moved closer, carefully, until the bonfire came into view. Around it sat six young adults, all clad in the same T-shirt: Camp Wapanaka Counselor in faded blocky letters. A rainbow arched over a crowing rooster on the back of the shirts.

Among them sat Amelia Coventry.

She was radiant, her face aglow from the firelight, her long brown hair tucked behind her ears. She leaned against the shoulder of the young man strumming the guitar, smiling.

“That song is just the grooviest, Davey,” she said, her voice light and teasing.

Davey grinned. “Makes learning it all worth it then, honey pie.”

Another girl—a redhead with a braided crown—rolled her eyes. “Get a room, lovebirds.”

Laughter followed. The group was relaxed, close-knit. A moment frozen in time.

But then Amelia stood abruptly, clutching her stomach with a wince. “Ugh. I knew I shouldn’t have had that last glass of juice. I’ll be right back, everyone!”

She darted off into the woods, brushing past Lena without noticing her.

“I could’ve gone with her. I needed to pee too,” another girl muttered, tossing her head back to look at the moon.

One of the guys smirked. “You could always catch up… unless you’re afraid of the dark, Nina.”

Nina snorted. “Nice try. But I am going after her.”

As she jogged off, Lena trailed behind, keeping her distance.

‘If this Nina girl followed Amelia, why didn’t she file a report? Why wasn’t she listed as a witness?’ The questions clanged through Lena’s thoughts with every step.

The woods grew denser. Soon the warmth of the fire was gone, replaced by a creeping chill. Crickets sang around them as the trio entered a small clearing. A wooden outhouse stood nearby, weathered and leaning slightly to the side.

“Sorry, Lia! Beating you to it!” the second girl called, rushing into the outhouse.

“Wha—fine, go ahead then,” Amelia said, turning toward the edge of a nearby drop-off. She knelt down and began drawing in the dirt with a stick—hearts, initials, a rainbow, a sun.

Then, a branch cracked. Directly behind her.

Lena froze, stepping behind a tree. She reached for her notepad and held her breath. Amelia rose. “Oh, you finished already, Ni…na?”

Her face fell.

A tall figure loomed behind her, their features obscured to Lena by angle and shadow. The stranger raised a knife, its blade catching the moonlight.

“No, please don’t! I just—AHH!” Amelia screamed.

The knife plunged into her shoulder.

She spun in shock, only for the stranger to drive a boot into her leg. A sickening crack followed, and she screamed again as she tumbled backward down the slope. A sharp branch below impaled her gut halfway down the slope, where she slowly perished.

Lena pressed her back to the tree, her chest heaving.

‘But the file definitely said she wasn’t stabbed… What’s happening?’

Just then, the outhouse door creaked open.

“Lia? What’s wrong?” Nina called, clearly shaken. The masked figure turned toward her.

Lena could now see their face—well, the mask. Half black, half white, a permanent smiling mouth carved into it. The figure said nothing but reached into their cloak for another weapon.

Their voice came through a small speaker hidden behind the mask—distorted, mechanical.

"The hunt begins."

Lena’s heart skipped a beat. ‘That voice… that tech… That’s not from this era. The killer… has powers like me?’

To be continued…