Her life is always focused on busy campus activities and part-time jobs that make her never think to be afraid of anything other than the obligations that she must fulfill as someone who is starting to grow up. After all, if asked who she is most afraid of right now, Neungluthai Suppamongkon will answer that she is afraid of her lecturers and afraid of the boss at her part-time job.

Every day, after she finished all her business at the university at three o'clock in the afternoon, she would rush off to get changed and go to her part-time job. She works as an afternoon shift employee at a 24-hour minimarket as a cashier until 10 pm and after that she will go straight home to her apartment to clean up, do her assignments, and rest to go to campus the next day.

Today, the shop's were quiet and she's getting sleepy. Even though it's still 8 pm, her shift would finish in two hours. She finished restocking the goods in the shop with the stock in the warehouse so now she can relax while playing with her cellphone or taking a little bit of her course work.

Three days ago, she was given a message by her manager to be more vigilant because the CCTV cameras behind the counter, parking area, and heading to the warehouse were broken. The manager has contacted repairmen to fix it, but they won't be able to send staff in until the end of the week.

All that extra-cautious had worn her out much quicker today. So to divert her mind from the fatigue that was starting to eat away at her, she decided to contact her friend to clear up the loneliness. They chatted about many things, about the beautiful men and women in the faculty environment to the complaints that had made each of them bored over the last few days.

Until at one point, her friend started discussing something that was busy on television. "Song, when you go home you must order a Grab Car. Do not walk home as usual. I don't want to see you on TV as a murder victim."

Song chuckled at her friend's words, which she thought didn't make sense. "Gosh, my workplace and my apartment are so close. You don't need to worry. After all, I can run fast. You know that, right?"

"I know Song. But you have to stay alert, okay?"

"Fine. I understand," Song looked up, her ears hearing the sound of cars parked in the parking lot. That means soon there will be customers coming in. "Wait a minute, there's a customer."

The sound of the bell rang at the same time as the glass door was pushed open by a woman in a black hat, long hair who was wearing black jeans and a gray hoodie. Song greeted her and the woman greeted her with a smile before walking off to the snack shelf. The smell of mint wafted into her nose as the long-haired woman passed in front of her.

Song glanced at the woman from a distance before focusing back on her cellphone while waiting for the customer to return to the cashier to make a payment. Not even ten minutes had passed and Song had just written her three-paragraph essay, the customer walked over and placed her groceries on the counter. Immediately she stood up and put her cell phone in her pocket and started doing her work.

"Is there no one other than you here? This place is very quiet and I was afraid to stop by earlier."

Hearing that, Song reflexively flashed a smile. While putting several bottles of bleach, clothes deodorizer, food, and a few other items into a large plastic bag, she replied, "Usually it's always crowded at this hour, but today is different. I don't know why either. Maybe people are too tired to stop by for a cold drink or onigiri? Oh, it's 1000 Baht in total, miss."

"I don't think I belong to that class of people. Yeah, I just moved around here and need to buy some stuff to fill my apartment," the woman in the hat took out her purse and some bills, then placed them on the table while looking around at the shelves before looking back at Song with a sweet smile. "This place has a lot to offer, looks like I'll be stopping by often."

"Is it true? Recently more people are leaving this neighborhood to go elsewhere. If that's the case, I'm glad that someone new has arrived to stay."

This woman in the hat was very beautiful—Song had just realized that when she came face to face with her, and damn, if she had been born a boy, maybe Song would have worked up the courage to approach her. Realizing that she had been staring at the woman in front of her without doing anything for more than 10 seconds, Song gasped and immediately put the bill into the cash register and gave some coins for change.

"Thanks. Don't worry, I'll make sure I'll be a regular customer." the woman received the change and receipt from Song, put them in her pocket, then got up to bring two large plastic bags full of groceries. Not forgetting that the woman in the hat said goodbye to Song considering that they might meet again in the next few days.

Song would have picked up her cell phone again if only the woman in the hat had not turned around and walked back into the shop. She had time to think, did she give the wrong change or did this woman have other things that she had not bought so she returned in a hurry. Whatever it was, Song still smiled at her and asked what she needed—as a good shop clerk should.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Do you guys sell preservative products like... formalin?"

--0--

Rebecca knows how to survive. She received military training which for several months, that made her mental and psyche very well formed to the point where nothing scared her—not even death. But can she use all of her abilities in this position to protect herself? Sadly, she can't.

Because in her nightmares, she was always in a tied position with mutilated human bodies and pools of fishy-smelling blood that made her almost vomit. Her chest was tight, it felt like a huge boulder had been rammed straight into her chest, literally making her feel like a rat being stepped on.

She doesn't know what mistakes she has made so far that she is always haunted by this kind of terrible dream every time she falls asleep. Not only blood and bits of human bodies were present in her dreams, but a black figure that somehow got closer and closer every time she dreamed about it. The figure that originally resembled a black dot in the distance, was now several meters ahead of her.

And Rebecca hated that she couldn't move her body at all, not even in her dreams. Everything felt real, the terror she felt very real. With a lump of fear racing through her head, Rebecca tried to speak. "Who... who are you? What did I do wrong? Why do you keep haunting me like this?"

She understood that figure might not give her the answer she wanted, after all she was only a black shadow that resembled a human silhouette. That figure certainly wouldn't do any harm to her, would it?

It's just, maybe right now she's just too confident. Because she didn't expect that the black figure suddenly shot towards her—launching something right in front of her face, which was probably an extremely sharp object because the next thing she felt was a cold object that slashed half of her head. Her ears were ringing violently at that instant, but oddly enough she couldn't speak or scream.

Is she dead? She knew she had been killed in her own dream, and maybe... she had died in the real world as well.

In that dream, Rebecca's severed head was under her feet. Faintly she heard a sound—a strange sound that seemed to be being uttered by hundreds of people simultaneously and created an indistinct hum and whisper that was hard for Rebecca's ears to accept, which was slowly losing its function.

But the one thing she could hear in those terrifying whispers before her eyes closed tightly was, "The enemy is near." And right after that, Rebecca woke up with cold sweat drenching her face and neck.

Everything... it was just a dream? She tried to control her shortness of breath—a little grimaced because of the sudden stinging pain that stabbed her chest, but she didn't care—and soon her hands were groping her neck to her face. Everything is still normal. Her head was still there and was not severed, nor did she feel any wounds or bandages on her face. So it really was a dream. What happened... why did that black figure kill me? Rebecca groaned a little, her left chest still hurt so much that she had to press it with her right hand.

Her nightmare this time was out of bounds and even too real—more real than any dream she's had in her life and more terrifying than all the bad experiences she's had so far. She didn't want to assume anything, but why did she feel that the black figure in her dream seemed to give her a sign that bad disaster would soon come to her?

She already knew that her fate might not end well since the serial killer had followed her even to her residence. She shouldn't need to be afraid considering she has enough courage to survive this far. However, after seeing how this crazy psychopath kills her victims and the various forms of terror that show that she is targeting Rebecca, this is starting to shake her psyche.

Since the discovery of the first body—Rebecca, who so far only deals with ordinary murder cases (the killer only kills the victim and leaves her after trying to erase their tracks), is immediately confronted with strange murder cases which she finds disgusting and horrifying at the same time.

All those anonymous letters and Polaroid photos ruined her little by little. And she couldn't talk to anyone about it—including asking for help. Because she knew that no one would understand what she felt every time she looked back at the killer's message addressed to her.

She had never thought of going to a psychologist and talking about the things that had been bothering her all this time—well, it had crossed her mind to go but her very busy schedule made her postpone her plans and decide to get rid of all her bad thoughts alone, which in fact made her her psychological condition was getting worse.

She was always filled with a strange feeling, as if hundreds of people were staring at her with vicious eyes and felt that at any moment someone would lunge at her. Rebecca never felt safe anywhere, even if she was in an office or in a crowded place—all those invisible figures kept on haunting her. Corrupting her mind from within and making herself change slowly.

And she couldn't do anything to prevent it from consuming her.

Trying to forget the nightmare that had just disturbed her and the strange feeling after knowing her head had been cut off in the dream, Rebecca shook her head slowly and raised her head—finding that she was in the hospital room alone without anyone around. Oh, maybe not completely alone because she noticed a jacket draped over the sofa in the corner of the room.

She didn't even remember who owned that army-colored jacket. Maybe Doctor Nam? Rebecca thinks. Her eyes now turned to the white table that is to the right of her head. Above there are two bottles of mineral water and her phone. Carefully, she picked up the phone and made sure she didn't drop it with her hands that were still shaking.

There were several missed calls from Noey, Nam, Richie—her older brother. She found Nam's name there so there was no way the jacket on the couch belonged to that forensic doctor. Exhaling slowly as she contemplated whether she should call back or let all of their calls go unanswered, until Rebecca finally made her choice on the second option—let them be and didn't calling them back.

For now, she just wanted to be alone and not talk to anyone.

Rebecca also put her phone into do not disturb mode and put it back where it was before actually laying down on the cold hospital bed. She closed her eyes, once again trying to catch her breath and she opened them again as soon as she managed to control her wild thoughts.

The television in front of her was showing the news feed of the press conference being held by the police—it was turned on so low that Rebecca, whose mind was drifting off somewhere, didn't notice it was on. She recognized several people present there, one of whom was Saint and Lieutenant Chankimha. It was her senior who had been speaking in front of dozens of reporters.

Rebecca really couldn't hear her voice so she didn't know what she was saying, but through the running text on the screen, she could understand that Lieutenant Chankimha trying giving an appeal to increase public awareness and prohibition to go out alone after 11 pm because an emergency involving a serial killer who is at large.

Whatever happened at the internal meeting this afternoon—which she couldn't attend because she was being treated at the hospital—must have resulted in a valuable decision, one of the results being this; the police began to move to issue a stern notices which broadcasted on several national television channels.

The sound of the door opening managed to make Rebecca take her eyes off the television broadcast—she was too focused on the figure of Lieutenant Chankimha, an annoying senior who made her want to make a mess in the office—she glanced towards the door, only to find tall woman with long hair walked into her ward and gently closed the door behind her.

"Oh," Freen widened her eyes for a split second before returning to her normal cold gaze. "You're awake. That's good then. I almost thought you were dead and I had to take this case alone." she continued. It looked like she had just come back from the convenience store because she was seen sipping a can of coffee and carrying a white plastic bag in her left hand.

Surprised, then turned her gaze to the television that was still showing the news broadcast where Freen was still standing there. It took Rebecca a few seconds to realize that the broadcast was just a recorded broadcast. Suffice it to explain why Freen could be in her ward just now.

Freen walked over and dragged a plastic chair to Rebecca's bedside, the woman sat there and placed a plastic bag on her lap. She took out a pack of bread and a carton of milk from inside and placed them beside Rebecca's body. The young Armstrong was certainly made strange because of the annoying senior's behavior that suddenly turned like this.

It wasn't that she was ungrateful, but at least when giving and helping others, Freen needed to shake off that cold expression on her face—to be honest, Rebecca felt uncomfortable.

Freen exhaled slowly. She took the bread, unwrapped it, took a large piece and giving it to Rebecca. "Eat this. You look pathetic, I can't stand it. You're a cop, right? So you must have been well paid. You look almost like a tramp who lives under a bridge." The Chankimha again handed her bread to Rebecca who looked at her as if to say are-you-serious because, of course, what kind of person would suddenly come and give such sharp remarks!

Realizing that Rebecca had not received the bread she gave her made Freen go awry. She didn't know what was wrong with what she was doing now and she didn't know what to do anymore because she had tried her best. Taking a slight glance at the bread she handed Rebecca, the older woman chirped, "I'm sorry, you don't seem to like chocolate bread, do you?" a hint of disappointment could be heard from her voice as she spoke in a low tone. "I'll get you something else in case you don't want to eat hospital food, please wait."

Just as Freen was about to get up from her chair and walk out to buy something like she said, Rebecca was able to grab her wrist first causing the taller woman to glance at her. "No, there's no need to," Rebecca reassured her, "I'll eat the bread you gave me, I like it."

Rebecca was sure that Freen had managed to slip a smile on her lips as soon as she finished speaking. But as quickly as that smile came, just as quickly it disappeared. After Rebecca said that she would eat the bread she gave her, Freen sat back down on a chair and handed Rebecca the packet of bread she had brought earlier so that the woman would eat her own bread. Freen also took a bottle of mineral water and unsealed the bottle so Rebecca didn't have to strain to open it.

Rebecca silently ate the bread Freen gave her. The woman didn't say anything anymore after giving her bread and opening a bottle of mineral water for her, Freen just sat beside her, busy with her own phone.

Feeling both uncomfortable and uneasy at having ignoring Freen, Rebecca gave in and tried to break the transparent glass that lay between them. After all, she needed to thank Freen for her kindness. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Why are you here even though it's late at night?"

Freen turned off her cell phone. She looked up, tilting her head at the same time. Her tired face was clearly visible. "Think of it as an apology from me for making you like this. Somehow, I feel responsible in a way."

"Huh?"

"I realized that what I said to you really went too far. I also don't know what you've been through so far and I immediately gave my judgment to you, so..." the young lieutenant lowered her head for a moment, "I'm sorry, Sergeant Armstrong."

Rebecca stopped what she was doing in chewing on the brown bread that was in her mouth while she looked at Freen with a surprised expression. What had just happened to this annoying woman to make her want to apologize personally after giving her such a sharp remark and buying her dinner like just now?

Really, this new co-worker was really beyond her expectations. All the actions she takes are almost unpredictable. The reason was, Rebecca had thought that Lieutenant Chankimha would ignore her but the truth is, that woman had come to her herself and was taking care of her now.

To be honest, she didn't care about what her senior said because she had worse before. So she wasn't really upset or angry about it either. It's just that, since Freen already apologized, what else can I do? Rebecca just muttered a little while nodding her head like a doll in a car.

"I don't care about the way you talked to me. Today I collapsed because I was too exhausted, that's all. I'll rest here and head out tomorrow morning." Rebecca swallowed her bread and crumpled the plastic wrap in her hand. Unexpectedly, Freen took the plastic wrap from the bread from her hand. "Hey, that's—" she tried to take back the package but Freen immediately put it in the large plastic bag she had brought earlier.

Freen frowned. It seemed that she was not happy with Rebecca's words just now. "No, afternoon. You're only coming out in the afternoon. I can't let you go out like this and you don't want to faint again like before, do you?" Rebecca was about to reply, but Freen quickly interrupted her so she could only swallow her own words. "Actually, there's something else I need to tell you and that's the reason why Noey contacted you several times. This relates to the killer stalking you and the case we're working on. Oh, have you given them a name yet? Calling them a killer just feels too classic."

"We haven't had a chance to give them a name yet. You name them," Rebecca snorted. Rather than a nickname for the killer, she was more interested in talking about the stalker.

"Let's call them a monster, shorter and explained the heinous deeds they committed," another woman replied. Freen leaned back against the back of the chair, feeling her aching back finally relax before continuing, "In two days we will have new personnel from the traffic safety department and cyber-crime department. I submitted a request for new personnel additions to the top officials at the meeting earlier and they approved it after seeing all the autopsy reports. You need them, I know that."

Rebecca nodded, slightly not expecting that the request submitted by Freen could be easily approved while the application submitted by her had already been rejected three times. Perhaps her rank and reputation were influential enough that they would consider it better, she thought. Apparently the arrival of this annoying young lieutenant not only gives her a new bad experience, but also gives her a helping hand.

"Thank you. I see you are doing well," the young Armstrong glanced at the television broadcast, "Tell me what happened at the meeting, please?"

"Not now. Your condition is still not good so I can't burden your mind with what happened while you were not in the office. But I'll make sure, once you're out of the hospital, the investigation will go better than before."

Frowning, Rebecca quickly interjected, "No, that can't be! I'm in charge of everything, I need to know what happened so—"

"Shit. Hey, listen, Sergeant. I'm trying to care more about you because—because I see you don't even care about yourself right now. In this way, you are giving the killer a chance to attack your mental state even more!" Freen took a deep breath, all the sudden tension made her voice raise involuntarily so in the sentence she was about to say next, Freen tried to be calmer and lowered her tone, "Tomorrow, I want you not to return to your house alone because you are in danger now. You are in a bad position here, because that monster knows everything about you and they ready to come at you anytime."

Rebecca exhaled roughly. She didn't want to talk about this anymore when she was feeling calm in the hospital. Why did Freen come only to torment her with those bad memories? Seriously. Annoyed, Rebecca growled, "I know if I was in danger, you wouldn't have to tell me that twice, for Christ's sake."

"This is a real threat, kid. That monster could be anywhere, even in this hospital." Rebecca was a little surprised when Freen suddenly touched her left shoulder, making the young sergeant suddenly look straight into Freen's pair of brown eyes that didn't show that she was joking at all. "This is just my assumption, and I don't know if you have hurt anyone's heart, but it seems that from the start the monster wanted to play with you and was after you. They selected their victims based on your family's surname to warn you, Sergeant Armstrong. Perhaps, we should start considering investigating the people around you."

The enemy is near.

The words of the strange black figure that had appeared in her nightmare suddenly buzzed inside her head. That aligned with Freen's guessing that the monsters they were looking for were now nearby Rebecca—could be people she had met a few times or people she had dealings with.

So it was true that she had been warned of her own death through dreams and she couldn't imagine what would happen if one day the day of her death came—she could see who killed her and how painful it would be.

She's scared, very scared. If she died, what would happen next? Who will protect her friends and family while this psychopath is out there on the prowl for new prey?

Unconsciously, Rebecca shed her tears and cried. She could not stand all the evil thoughts that affect the contents of her head now. And she hated the fact that no matter how hard she tried to control those bad thoughts, they only gripped and choked her like a rope that choking her neck.

Seeing Rebecca's condition, Freen's hand, which was initially hesitant to move, finally touched the young Armstrong's arm. Indirectly informing Rebecca of Freen's presence by her side so she needn't be afraid anymore, for now.

"Never be afraid, sergeant. We will snatch that psychopath before they kills more people." Freen tried to calm Rebecca down. Even though deep inside, she understood that such words would not erase the rage and fear that was evident on the young sergeant's face in front of her.

But at least she had tried.