The rain-soaked streets were empty as Michael trudged along, his eyes fixed on the ground. The sound of sirens echoed in the distance, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within him.

Detective Morgan stepped out of the car, his eyes scanning the crime scene. "What happened here?" he thought, his mind already racing with possibilities. Another police car pulled up behind him, and Detective Miller emerged. "Glad you could make it, Inspector Morgan," Miller said, patting Morgan on the back.

As Morgan followed Miller to the crime scene, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. The victims were all teenagers, and the brutality of the murders sent a chill down his spine. "No witnesses?" Morgan asked, his eyes scanning the area. Miller shook his head. "Three teenagers dead, and one of them is missing a finger." Morgan's eyes narrowed. "Our killer must have wanted a souvenir."

As Morgan examined the bodies, he couldn't help but think that the killer was trying to send a message. But what kind of message, and to whom? The investigation had just begun, and Morgan was determined to uncover the truth.

Meanwhile, Michael's day was about to take a dark turn. He had just received a surprise gift from Sydney - a half-heart necklace with an inscription that read, "To Michael, my love." But as he admired the gift, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.

As the day went on, Michael's unease grew. He stumbled upon Conner and Sydney kissing in the auditorium, and his world came crashing down. The girl he thought he knew had been playing him all along.

Michael's emotions swirled as he walked home in the rain. He felt betrayed, lied to, and deceived. The pain he had endured seemed to boil over, and he let out a primal scream.

As he looked up at the dark clouds, he felt a voice whispering in his ear. "How long do you intend to keep being the nice guy, Michael? You don't have to keep it in anymore. You're hurt, you've endured pain and suffering, but the world won't understand. It's time you remind them of how it feels to feel sorrow."

Michael's reflection stared back at him from a puddle of water. He saw his father's reflection superimposed over his own, and a chill ran down his spine. The voice in his head grew louder, more menacing. "It's time to have fun, Michael."

As the lightning flashed and thunder roared, Michael's grin grew wider. He felt a darkness stirring within him, a darkness that threatened to consume him whole. The storm raging outside was nothing compared to the tempest brewing within him.