Shadrach stirred groggily in bed as the first rays of morning light streamed through his window. His phone sat pretty on the nightstand, its screen lighting up repeatedly with notifications—missed calls and texts—but he hadn’t noticed. He always kept his phone on silent mode at night to avoid disturbances.

Besides, he had spent the night basking in the sweet, fuzzy feeling that had wrapped him up since leaving La Terrasse Restaurant. The date with Adepa had been nothing short of awesome, and he could already imagine this going further.

As he stretched and rubbed his eyes, sitting up on his bed, the growing flurry of notifications finally caught his attention. He reached for his phone, and saw a barrage of messages and missed calls.

23 missed calls

15 new messages

His heart quickened. Why so many calls and messages? What was going on? Was there an emergency or something?

He scrolled through the messages.

Kwami Apprey: “Shadrach, where are you? Pick up your phone!“

Diana Adade: “Call me back as soon as you can! Please!“

The two messages seen so far were from his panelists from ‘City Watch’. What was wrong? Had someone fallen sick or something?

Before he could check the call log, his phone began vibrating in his hand. An unknown number flashed on the screen. He hesitated for a split second before answering.

“Hello?” His voice was cautious and tinged with unease.

“Mr. Gardiner, this is Inspector Bannerman,” the voice on the other end said, sounding weary but relieved. “Thank God you’re alive. We’ve been trying to reach you all morning.”

Shadrach’s pulse raced. What an odd statement to make; he had not experienced any kind of danger. “Uh, Inspector… what’s going on? Why wouldn’t I be alive?”

The Inspector sighed heavily, his tone grave. “Mr. Gardiner… I’m sorry to be the bearer of terrible news, but Doomblade has begun targeting members of the City Watch panel. Two of your colleagues were attacked last night. And… unfortunately, they didn’t survive. We had to ensure you’re okay.”

Shadrach sat up straight, his heart pounding against his ribs. “Oh my God! Who? Who and who were killed?”

There was a pause, heavy with sorrow.

“Mawuli Debrah… and Adepa Abaidoo.”

“Whatttttt?!”

The phone slipped from Shadrach’s hand, landing with a thud on the floor. The words echoed in his head, but his mind did not want to process them.

Adepa. The bright, beautiful and passionate woman he’d just spent the evening with. The woman whose laughter still rang in his ears.

She was gone? Just like that?

Taken out by the monster she had criticized a few days ago?

No! It couldn’t be possible. It had to be impossible!

“No. No, no, no!” he screamed, clutching his head as a guttural cry of anguish tore from his throat.

He fell to his knees, trembling as tears blurred his vision. He shook his head, as memories of Adepa’s radiant smile, her fiery conviction, and the way she’d looked at him the night before flooded his mind.

No, this could not be possible! He had seen her last night! She had told him not to keep her waiting for their follow-up date. It couldn’t be that those goodbyes were forever.

How could this be? How could this be?

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no…. NOOOOOOO!!”

The Inspector’s voice crackled faintly from the phone on the floor. “Mr. Gardiner? Are you there? Shadrach?”

Shadrach was too overwhelmed with devastation to remember that he was still on the line, screaming with raw grief.

***

The scene on the Nassie Road leading to the Market Square was a gory one.

Yellow police tape had cordoned off the area where Mawuli Debrah’s lifeless body lay sprawled, his blood pooling beneath him. The forensics team worked silently, taking photos and collecting evidence.

A cluster of officers stood nearby, speaking in hushed tones. Among them were Denar and Awo, who were on the patrol without Nadine, who had been called to assist with investigations at Adepa’s house.

Denar clenched his fists, his stomach churning as he stared at the scene. Mawuli’s face, one he had seen a few times before, was now hauntingly still. In his chest, a ninja star lay deeply ingrained.

Nobody needed to guess who was responsible for this. None other than Doomblade.

“This is sick,” Denar muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Absolutely sick. He was a journalist, not a criminal. He didn’t deserve this.”

Awo stood beside him, her arms crossed tightly and her eyes fixed on Mawuli’s lifeless form. “This was Doomblade’s way of silencing criticism. Mawuli criticized him on the show, and now he’s gone.”

Denar exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “And Adepa too. She was even more vicious on him. Two journalists in one night.” He looked away, unable to bear the sight any longer. “Chale, this is straight-up terror at this point. Doomblade is going insane at this point. I’ve not been here for long, but it’s so obvious.”

Awo nodded, her expression unreadable. “Exactly. At this point, he’s not a rogue vigilante anymore. He’s something worse. He’s evil incarnate.”

Denar glanced at her, his brow furrowed. “This is getting worse by the day. And he’ll not stop here, will he?”

“No,” Awo replied without hesitation, her voice low but firm. “The way things are going, he won’t. He’s going to start targeting anyone who dares to criticize him. Journalists, public figures, anyone who speaks out. He’s gonna end up ruling Sima Hills through fear.”

Denar sighed, his disgust giving way to unease. “This is horrible. He’s turning into some fucking tyrant right now. He’s not even a leader or anything like that. What the hell is this? Now he’s looking to police free speech or something?”

Awo’s gaze hardened as she turned toward him. “I wish I knew what his problem is. But, the longer this goes on without doing anything, the more we hand over control to him. And if we let him have total control, this city’s finished.”

Denar didn’t respond immediately. His eyes drifted back to the lifeless body on the ground, his mind swirling with thoughts of Doomblade and the fear he was sowing.

He shook his head. Now this was beyond frightening for him as a police officer, but for everyone in Sima Hills. If this Doomblade guy was now resorting to killing people for speaking out against his ways, where would the line be drawn?

***

The Sima Hills Police Headquarters was abuzz with tension. Officers moved briskly through the halls, radios crackling with updates from various teams. Denar and Awo entered the briefing room. They’d just returned from the grim scene at Mawuli Debrah’s murder site and were immediately called into an emergency meeting.

Chief Inspector Kofi Ankrah stood at the front of the room, his tall frame rigid with barely contained fury. His piercing eyes scanned the gathering officers as they settled in. On the screen behind him, a paused video showed a bloodied ninja star resting on a wooden table, the image frozen mid-frame.

As Denar took his seat, he squinted at the screen. What the hell could that be?

“Alright! Listen up!” Chief Inspector Ankrah barked, slamming his hand on the table for emphasis. The murmurs in the room instantly ceased. “We’ve just received a message in the Police Service’s official Facebook inbox. And it’s from Doomblade.”

Denar felt his stomach tighten, and Awo stiffened beside him. The tension in the room grew tighter.

Ankrah’s scowl deepened as he gestured to the screen. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this to you. What you’re about to see is disturbing and absolutely revolting. It’s a direct threat, not just to us, but to the entire city. Watch and listen closely.”

He pressed play, and the video began.

The camera panned over a bloodied ninja star, gleaming under a harsh light. In the background, Doomblade’s voice spoke, calm yet menacing, with an eerie wickedness that sent chills down every spine in the room.

“People of Sima Hills, take note. The events of last night were necessary. Those so-called journalists, Mawuli Debrah and Adepa Abaidoo, were enemies of justice, speaking foolishly against what is right. They were dealt with accordingly. Let their colleagues know this, that their day of reckoning also approaches. And let this serve as a lesson to all of you who dare to challenge my brand of justice.”

There was a pause, filled only by the faint sound of dripping water in the background. Then Doomblade’s voice returned, colder this time.

“Corruption. Deceit. Evil. Injustice. They plague this city like a disease. And I am the blade that cuts through them. If you stand against me, you stand against justice itself. And I promise you this: justice will always prevail. No matter what. Be warned, people of Sima Hills.”

The video abruptly ended, leaving the room in a heavy silence.

The tension in the room had grown so tight, it was almost tangible. There was no doubt that every single officer was outraged by that video.

Denar glanced at Awo, and she stared back at him, the fury apparent in her eyes.

Just as they had spoken about earlier. The man was declaring open war on all his dissidents.

A sign of utterly despicable tyranny.

Ankrah snapped the remote in his hand onto the table and glared at his officers. “This is the most disgusting threat I’ve ever heard in my 22 years as a police officer of this city. Did you hear that son of a bitch? He’s not just killing anymore—he’s trying to instill fear in every corner of this city! And I’ll be damned if we let him get away with it! Who the fuck does he think he is, threatening us like this?”

The officers exchanged grim looks, the weight of the situation settling over them.

Ankrah’s voice grew louder, his authority filling the room. “Listen to me! By hook or crook, we’re bringing this fucking bastard down! I’m not resting until this sicko is brought to book! I want all units on high alert! No more lone patrols—pair up and stay vigilant. And as you heard, he’s targeting specific individuals. We need to get ahead of him. Quickly.”

He turned to the roster on the table and began assigning tasks. “So, Constables Mensah and Afenyo, you’ll lead detail to protect Diana Adade. Constables Yeboah and Edusei, you and your team will handle Kwami Apprey’s security. Keep them within a tight perimeter at all times.”

His gaze fell on Denar and Awo. “Kyeremah, Teye—you’re on Shadrach Gardiner. Keep watch over him at all times. Under no circumstances should he be left alone. Understood?”

Denar, who had risen to his feet along with Awo, nodded and saluted sharply. “Understood, sir.”

Awo added, “We’ll keep him safe, sir.”

“Good,” Ankrah said, his tone sharp. “I want regular updates on all movements, and if anything—anything—seems off, report it immediately. This man moves like a ghost, but he’s not invincible. We’ll catch him, but we need to be smart about it.”

Ankrah scanned the room one last time, his expression unyielding. “Dismissed. Get to work.”

The officers filed out of the room, the tension palpable as they prepared to carry out their assignments.

Denar and Awo exchanged a determined look as they left the room.

“Guess we’re babysitting the Gardiner guy,” Awo sighed, her tone a mix of sarcasm and seriousness.

Denar gave a grim nod. “Yeah. Better than seeing another body in the morgue. Let’s make sure Doomblade doesn’t get to him.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be damned if that motherfucker kills anyone under my watch. No, sir. Let’s get it done.”

Yeah, whatever his beef with the police is, it’s gone way out of line now. Doomblade is a monster at this point. A tyrannical monster…