Chapter 5: Requiem for the Fallen

Marissa shook off my hand. "If it’s built on blood, I want no part of it."

I used to be like her—someone with principles and a bottom line.

When did I start losing myself?

Honestly, I look down on myself now, but I have no choice. Principles don’t pay the bills.

"Marissa, don’t be naive. This world’s brutal, Marissa. If you want to live well, you have to play by its rules."

"Enough," Marissa couldn’t take it anymore. "If you insist on going down this path, I’ll leave you! I can’t live with a murderer, Ethan. I’ll take our son too. I don’t want him growing up to be as heartless as you!"

Marissa quickly packed up and left with our son.

Watching her leave tore me up.

"You blew it. Your wife ruined everything," the man called to scold me.

"Sorry, I didn’t expect her to follow me," I said dejectedly. "She’s pissed. Wants a divorce."

"Really? So what now?"

I was a mess. I really didn’t know!

I love Marissa and never thought we’d separate. But now, I had to choose…

I was a mess.

A few days later, the old man still died.

While exercising in the community, a piece of equipment suddenly broke, throwing him to the ground. He hit his head on a rock, bled out, and lost consciousness.

But Autumn Sloan beat me to the scene.

Autumn Sloan is fresh out of college, still an intern, but she’s ambitious and sharp. She’s got a nose for news. Always gets the best stories. The boss loves her.

If it were anyone else, fine—but losing to a rookie is a blow to an old reporter like me. I admit, I’m petty. Who can be generous to the competition?

At the meeting, the boss praised her again, and everyone crowded around her, saying she was smart, hardworking, and promising.

"Maybe you’ll be the next Ethan Grady," someone joked.

"No way, Mr. Grady is my idol!" she laughed.

That smile hurt.

I hid away and pulled out my phone.

"What’s going on? Did you give the tip to Autumn Sloan?" I snapped as soon as he picked up.

"That’s right," he answered directly.

"Why?"

"Just a reminder—there’s plenty of folks willing to work with me."

…

Last time, my plan was ruined by Marissa, and that pissed him off. So now, he wanted to teach me a lesson!

Yes, he has plenty of people to work with, but I only have him. I needed him more than he needed me.

"No!" I shouted. "I’m your guy. Only me."

"Can I trust you?"

"I promise—nothing will mess this up again."

"One more shot." He chuckled. "Tonight at midnight, bring your camera to 24 Tashan Avenue, seventh floor."

"I’m in."

No. 24 Tashan Avenue is an abandoned building that’s been unfinished for years. Weeds grow wild, and the wind howls. Snakes, rats, you name it. At night? Even worse.

I parked on the roadside and forced myself to go in. The weeds were so thick they reached my knees. Every step, I worried I’d step on a snake.

Part of me wondered if the man was messing with me. What was I here for? Ants? Stray dogs?

Still, I pressed on. Fame and fortune won out over fear.

The seventh floor was exhausting to reach, but before I could catch my breath, I was stunned by what I saw…

A woman was hanging from the beam, swaying.

She was still struggling. Still alive.

My first reaction wasn’t to rush over and save her, but to quickly turn on my camera and aim it at her…

My flash hit her face. I froze.

Marissa?

Yes, it was Marissa!

I never imagined the man’s target would be her this time!

Was this payback?

This man is terrifying!

Even scarier, it was like my soul was under his control!

"Ethan Grady, do you want to stand out? Want to be the 'Beacon of Journalism'? Then listen to me—clear away all obstacles! Anyone in your way must be eliminated! Even her!"

His voice echoed in my head.

Reason told me to rush over and save Marissa, but my legs wouldn’t move. My hands moved on their own.

Marissa gradually stopped moving, and I finally snapped out of it. Like waking from a nightmare, I dropped the camera and ran over, shouting…

"Marissa!"

But it was too late. Marissa was already gone.

She collapsed in my arms, limp as a boiled noodle. No matter how I called her name, she never responded again.

I hugged her tightly, overwhelmed with grief.

Nobody knows how much I regretted everything. Not until that moment.

"Regret now? It’s too late!" Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out behind me.

Who else could be here?

I turned in terror. A blinding light flashed in my face.

Someone stepped out of the darkness, holding a camera.

"Autumn Sloan? Why are you here?" I asked, stunned.

"There’s a good show—I couldn’t miss it!" Autumn smiled sweetly. Her smile chilled me.

"Mr. Grady, you’re really something. You’d do anything for a story. Even let your wife die."

She shook the camera in her hand. "I recorded everything just now. What do you think will happen if others see it?"

What else?

Ruin. Eternal disgrace.

"Autumn, listen to me—it was an accident, really!" I tried to argue.

"An accident? And all the others? Also accidents?" Autumn pressed.

…

She clearly knew everything.

At this point, I calmed down instead.

Backed into a corner, fear is useless. All I could do was brace myself for a desperate fight!

"Yes, I did whatever it took for a story, even things against my conscience. But you, Autumn. You’re no angel. When the old man fell from the equipment, what did you do?"

"We’re the same, you and me."

Autumn was stunned, silent for a while.

Then she laughed at herself.

"You’re right. We’re the same kind," she said. "You either die a hero, or you live long enough to become the villain."

"What are you talking about?"

Autumn looked up, her eyes cold, and then from her throat came a man’s voice—one I knew all too well:

"Ethan Grady, do you want to turn your life around?"

"Tonight at midnight, something will happen at Oakridge Apartments. If you get there in time, you’ll gain a lot."

"Ethan Grady, at 3 a.m., bring your camera to Lakeview Drive. Something’s going to happen!"

"Tonight at midnight, bring your camera to 24 Tashan Avenue, seventh floor."

I was stunned, barely able to believe my eyes and ears!

"You—who are you really?" I asked, my lips trembling.

"Heh. What do you think?" Autumn sneered. "To become your 'partner,' I went to great lengths—even spent money learning voice acting. Not bad, right? My male voice."

She switched easily between male and female voices, her smile now looking especially sinister…

I shuddered and stepped back. "So it was you. You killed them all."

"Yes, it was me," she said cheerfully. "I used anonymous calls to lure them to certain places, then sent them to hell one by one! Including your wife, Marissa! I told her everything. Made her a bet. She bet you’d save her. But she lost. I know you better. I know human nature better!"

She sounded like it was nothing.

What kind of monster is she?

"Autumn Sloan, you’re a demon!" I gasped.

"I’m a demon, but some people are even worse!" Autumn pulled out a few photos and tossed them at me. "Ethan Grady, remember this?"

I picked it up. It was my "Moment of Death" series. "Of course I remember my own work!"

"Then do you remember the man in the photo—the one stabbed to death by the thief? What was his name?"

…

"You don’t remember. You only remember the fame." Autumn laughed, her laughter like arrows piercing me from all sides.

I had nowhere to hide.

"Autumn, what are you trying to say?"

"Listen," Autumn stared at me, enunciating every word. "His name was Lucas Mitchell. He was my boyfriend!"

"What?" I was shocked.

What she said next stunned me even more:

"Three years ago, Lucas died for justice. The murderer was punished, but it didn’t end there. If the people at the scene had helped, Lucas might not have died! But you didn’t. You all stood far away, watching as he was stabbed again and again! And you—even had the nerve to take photos! ‘Beacon of Journalism’? Did you enjoy eating blood-soaked bread? Every one of you is a murderer! For three years, I tracked you all down, waiting for the right time to take revenge, one by one! The first woman who jumped was the worst. Lucas died helping her, and she angered the thief. And what did she do? She ran away without looking back! Not a word of thanks, not a word of apology. She never even showed at Lucas’s funeral. Someone died for her, but she didn’t care—like it was just a dead dog. Hmph, so I started with her! I made sure she lost everything. Left her corpse in the street. Fair, right?"

As Autumn spoke, she looked like she was in agony.

I stood there, hollowed out.

It turns out I’d fallen into a trap from the start—a carefully laid, inescapable trap!

If I’d listened to Marissa. If I hadn’t been so greedy. I ruined everything.

What about Marissa? She didn’t deserve this.

"Do you know how much Lucas and I loved each other? Do you know how much his death hurt me?" Autumn clutched her chest, her face twisted with pain. "I just wanted you to feel the pain of losing someone you love!"

She succeeded.

She didn’t just destroy everything I had—she shattered my soul.

That pain’s worse than death.

"Autumn Sloan, I’ll kill you!" I lunged at her, blind with rage.

She calmly bent down and grabbed something from the ground—a slick plastic sheet, and my feet were standing right on it!

Too late to stop myself.

Autumn yanked hard, and I lost my balance, tumbling backward out the seventh-floor window, plunging into endless darkness…

I crashed to the ground, every bone shattering. Blood pooled around me. Everything went dark.

Just like that night a few months ago.

"Now, let me capture your 'Moment of Death'!" Autumn smiled coldly, aiming her camera at me. Her eyes flashed. Same as mine once did.

"I heard Ethan Grady killed all those people."

"He even killed his own wife for a story."

"That guy’s a real monster!"

"Serves him right, falling to his death."

"Hmph, good and evil always get what’s coming."

The former Beacon of Journalism. Now a pariah.

And the clever, decisive Autumn Sloan got away unscathed.

She went to the cemetery and gently laid a bouquet on a tombstone.

Lucas’s face smiled from the gravestone.

"I did it, Lucas. I finally did it."

(The End)