“So… dear Sirius decided to drag you along to the incident room on the third floor?” Zoro’s eyes narrowed, disgust evident.

“I gave him a choice. He could either sleep on the couch or that room,” Sirius puffed out his chest.

“And of course, you psycho chose that!” Zoro glanced sharply at Lihar, who looked anything but pleased.

Kyrokuto interrupted, “I’ve finished installing the CCTV.”

Lihar’s eyes flickered with anger at Sirius.

“With permission, of course,” Sirius added quickly, avoiding Lihar’s gaze.

“Of course,” Kyrokuto muttered, shaking his head.

The lounge on the second floor had two couches: a small one that barely fit two people, and a long one that could hold four.

Zoro stretched out on the long couch. “I’m taking the long one. I’m taller.”

Kyrokuto gave him a light, fatherly slap on the back. “Have you forgotten your manners? Is this how you treat your elders?”

Zoro pushed himself up, moving to the smaller couch, a sly grin on his face. “You could’ve had the bed if you had the courage,” he added casually, letting Kyrokuto stretch out on the long one.

Kyrokuto picked at his teeth with a toothpick. “Same to you,” he said.

“Why these two places, though?” Zoro asked. “I know Sirius chose them, but I don’t know why.”

“He doesn’t speak on assumptions, only facts—just like his father,” Kyrokuto replied. “Get some sleep before the night stirs again.”

Third Floor – Incident Room

Sirius sprinkled flour along the window shelf, moving quietly.

“The reason?” Lihar asked, confused.

“I can’t say much for now, but I have my suspicions,” Sirius replied while cleaning his hands.

“Do you have doubts about the chef?” Lihar questioned, straightening the sheets.

Sirius moved toward the edge of the room near the single-person sofa and sat in the shadows. Darkness swallowed him almost completely, leaving only his eyes visible—like a black cat in the night, glimmering pools of ocean reflecting in them.

“No, it can’t be the chef,” Sirius said calmly.

“Wake me up. I’ll keep watch as well—we’ll take turns.”

“We both know that’s impossible,” Sirius laughed. “Remember college? You came late even for the bio exam. I noticed you from the middle of the hall.”

“And I still passed,” Lihar grinned. “But hey, someone had to give the professor a heart attack, right?”

Lihar laughed again. “And Professor Lyndon came afterwards, more concerned than I was. He was like… ‘Did you manage?’”

“Not to mention you forgot your granny glasses,” Sirius added.

“You could’ve at least spared my dignity and said they looked good,” Lihar muttered, lying down.

3 A.M.

Everyone drifted into silence—until it began.

Tick… tick… tick…

The clock stirred the night, each beat too alive, too sharp, like it was counting down to something unseen.

Then—she arrived.

Tak… tak…

A wide, empty smile stretched across her face as she walked, head swaying left, then right, in rhythm with the clock.

Tick… tock… tick… tock…

Step after step, her anklets dragging the night. Until she stopped.

She moved in front of the incident room and sang softly:

“Hush, little baby… don’t you cry,”

Sirius’s eyes snapped open, alert, still camouflaged in darkness.

“Something is watching… with open eyes.”

Her hand wrapped around the door handle, moving it down… then up… testing it.

Sirius lunged—too late. The door was already locked.

He ran toward the window—it was too high.

“Lihar! Lihar???” he screamed, shaking him. Lihar remained trapped in his dreams.

Sirius grabbed Lihar’s leg and dragged him across the floor. Finally, Lihar’s eyes snapped open.

“Her intent isn’t this room… she’s after something else,” Sirius warned.

“The rest of the family?”

“They’re fine. Two officers are with them, on the second floor. Call Zoro.”

“But still, we need to make sure,” Lihar said.

One sister was awake, reassured them her mother and younger sister were asleep. Officers confirmed the others were safe.

Kyrokuto ordered outside guards inside, tightening security.

Zoro ran toward the third floor, trying the door.

Kyrokuto went out to find the lady.

“Forget us—go and look for that lady,” Sirius ordered. “She went downstairs. Be careful.”

“Back off, partner!” Lihar shouted.

He swung a curtain rod, then planted his feet and kicked.

“Don’t you dare laugh.”

“Ayi ayi, I almost forgot you did karate,” Sirius smirked.

The door splintered. Lihar stepped through, Sirius close behind. Together, they moved into the darkness beyond.

“Wait… the maids don’t live on the second floor. Could she be after the maid?”

“Shoot,” Sirius realised. They ran, calling Zoro and Kyrokuto to check the first floor.

Zoro was already in the maid’s room. “Sirius! She’s fine!!”

“What is wrong with that doll lady!” Lihar exclaimed.

Sirius’s heart pounded. “He… he has the doll.”

Zoro went pale. “Nilo… has the doll.”

Back of the Villa

Nilo lay asleep in the van behind the villa, stretched across the back three seats, his backpack as a pillow. Beside him, the doll rested, tightly wrapped in a busta. He had studied it earlier under dim tablet light, checking every seam—nothing unusual.

Then the singing began.

“Ring-a-ring o’ roses…”

The voice floated through the night, uneven and cracked. Metal scraped against the road, axe-like. Each scrape rattled the van.

Nilo’s eyes snapped open. He stayed still, breath shallow, heart thrumming.

Footsteps circled the van, deliberate. The voice grew closer.

“A pocket full of doses …”

Nilo sharpened his hearing. Left… right… closer… Two heartbeats of warning.

“I stab, stab…”

He lunged for the driver’s seat, fumbling for the key.

“And you fall down.”

The axe struck. The side window shattered, glass slicing his arms, cheek, and forehead. Blood streamed hot.

Nilo rolled to the other side, grabbed the gun. The lady began climbing up.

“Come, let’s play, child…”

Nilo froze. He knew her intent, but not her next move.

The axe came down again, glass exploding across his arms.

His phone buzzed. Sirius’s voice crackled:

“Drive away, there is a lady after you!”

From above, a chilling laugh.

“They won’t take you away,” she whispered.

“Too late, Captain… she’s already here,” Nilo muttered.

“So will we!” Sirius’s voice cut through. “Stay alive—just a few more minutes. We’re in the garden.”

The van jolted. The lady ripped the back handle and tried to climb inside. Nilo threw himself through the shattered driver’s window, glass tearing his belly and leg.

She dropped down, axe raised. Nilo ran for the garden gate, limping. Relief hit when he saw Sirius and the others rushing toward him.

The axe struck again, smashing his leg. He collapsed, face-first. Lihar fired but missed. The lady vanished into shadows, reappearing on a tree, then slipping back into the villa.

Sirius flicked on a torch from Mr. Grandpa, handed to him. He dropped to Nilo’s side, binding his bleeding leg with his shirt and pressing cloth against his belly wound.

“You’re not fatally injured,” Sirius said firmly, “but infections spread fast.”

“I’m doable, Captain,” Nilo gasped.

“Twenty minutes—my father’s house. He’s a doctor. He’ll treat you.”

Zoro came back, panting, with Lihar behind him.

“She’s too fast. The night covered her—gone before we could catch her.”

“Shall I drive?” Zoro asked.

“No,” Sirius said. “Unkie will. He knows the way. Nilo can’t afford to lose any more blood.”

Kyrokuto gasped, “…the car… in no position to drive.”

“I apologise for the inconvenience,” Mr. Grandpa said calmly. “Take one of mine.”

Nilo was laid across the back of the black ’90s car, carried swiftly by Sirius and Kyrokuto.

Sirius and Grandpa walked toward the villa’s front entrance. Sirius cleaned his hands from blood, still tense.

“Mr Grandpa, can I have a chat with you?” he asked.

“Well sure,” Grandpa replied evenly.

Zoro and Lihar picked up the axe they had retrieved from the road.

“No wonder she wears gloves,” Lihar muttered, examining the bloodied handle.

Sirius tightened his leather jacket zipper. “Were the older daughters taught nursery rhymes or stories?”

Grandpa nodded. “Oh yes, plenty. Their mother would teach them all kinds of rhymes and fairy tales. Sia—she was a nursery teacher—was passionate about stories. She poured her heart into teaching the girls. But after she lost her son in the womb, she stopped working and devoted herself entirely to the house. After that… I haven’t seen her read to them much.”

Sirius’s gaze hardened. “And… where did the doll lady come from?”

Grandpa shook his head slowly. “Just a village rumor. Poison spreads through water, stories through houses. When Sia and the daughters first heard it, they went straight to ask about it themselves. I was curious once, too,” he added with a small chuckle, opening the door for Sirius.

Morning – 5 A.M.

Everyone gathered in the lounge on the first floor.

“Before, it was only an assumption,” Sirius said, voice steady and cold, “but now… it’s a fact. One of you took an innocent life.”

He scanned the family like a hawk.

Zoro leaned toward Lihar. “Grandpa appeared way too quickly yesterday.”

“If it were him,” Lihar murmured back, “Sirius wouldn’t have hesitated to knock him down when he saw Nilo’s condition. No… he’s onto someone else.”

Outside, two police cars idled, engines humming.

“Did you get paid to name one of us?” Uncle asked sharply.

Lihar forced a tight, uneasy smile. “Is that how low you think of Fitta’s top graduate detectives?”

The uncle’s eyes didn’t waver. “Well… the situation is right in front of you.”

“Gentlemen, settle down,” Kyrokuto’s voice cut the tension as he arrived with two female officers.

“Nilo’s fine. Your old man is as skilled as ever,” he added with a nod.

Sirius gave a curt nod.

“Officers, please take hold of Miss Sia—she is the culprit,” Sirius announced.

Shock rippled. The rest of the family, including Lihar and Zoro, froze.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Sia screamed, eyes wild. “I lost my child… my blood!”

“Why did you suspect her?” Zoro asked.

Sirius pointed to the voice recorder. “Listen carefully. At first, it sounded like the child crying for help—but she wasn’t. She was calling out her mother’s name while her mother stood right there. That detail alone made everything click.”

“The second clue was the gloves,” Sirius continued. “In the dark, where no one could see, you were fixated on the white gloves of the lady. Grief sharpened your attention. In that moment, I expected you to come to the incident room. The flour would have left footprints, but you heard me asking for it from the chef. If you climbed the tree and wall as you did, you would have gotten flour on your feet. Even if you ran, it would have taken time.”

“At first, it was only an assumption that the person’s actions were murder. Little did I know… you didn’t act on your own accord.”

He paused, letting out a heavy sigh. “But when you went after Nilo… it was certain. You suffer from maladaptive fantasy disorder. Rare but possible.”

“You had a deep attachment to stories, far beyond normal. After losing your son, grief amplified this, turning fascination into obsession. The tale of the doll lady became a trigger, driving compulsive behaviors and obsessive thoughts.

You believed yourself to be the characters, collected dolls as ‘actors,’ and enacted story-like rituals—singing rhymes, wearing gloves, moving in rhythmic patterns—living the story world.

Yet you retained enough awareness to be cunning and dangerous, rational at times but slipping into ‘character mode’ when triggered. This obsession explains the intensity and precision of your actions.”

“She’s… insane?” the father asked, disbelief tightening his voice.

“If that’s how you want to put it… yes,” Sirius confirmed, oddly confident.

“She took my doll—he took my doll. They both want to play.” Sia’s laugh bubbled out, brittle, manic.

“Zuroh? Why didn’t you play?” she asked, laughter threading through her words like a knife.

Her daughter’s shoulders shook; tears spilled down her face. The father pressed a hand to his forehead, stunned. Grandpa folded the girl into a tight hug. “My child—if only I had known what you went through,” he whispered.

Sia’s smile dropped. Her voice went low and flat. “Your child is dead.”

Detective Room – Fitta Central

“They’ve taken her for treatment abroad. Her mental illness has been diagnosed,” Zoro reported.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Sirius said quietly, relief softening his tone.

“Being the son of a doctor has its advantages, I guess,” Lihar teased, nudging Sirius.

“It’s not that bad, I suppose. Unkie… did Nilo come back?”

“No. Your father is keeping him for a few more days—trying to guide him, maybe brainwash him, into becoming a doctor.”

“He still hasn’t changed,” Sirius replied, reading the newspaper about the recent incident.