Quick Tales

Detective Lucas Kane stepped out of the rain-soaked alley and into the dimly lit bar, shaking off his trench coat before taking a seat at the counter. The neon sign above the door flickered, casting an eerie glow over the patrons huddled in their booths. The bartender, a grizzled man with a scar running down his left cheek, nodded at Lucas as he poured him a whiskey on the rocks.

Lucas had been haunted by shadows of his past for years, ever since that fateful night when he'd pulled the trigger and ended the life of a cold-blooded killer. The memory still plagued him—the echo of the gunshot, the lifeless eyes staring back at him. He'd sworn to never let another innocent fall victim to such evil again, but the cost had been his soul.

The whiskey burned as it went down, a welcome distraction from the demons that haunted him. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, seeing the lines etched into his face, the weariness in his eyes. The job was taking its toll, but he couldn't stop now. Not when there were monsters out there waiting to be caught.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, reading the message with a growing sense of unease. It was from an unknown number, the text simply saying: *You can't run forever, Lucas.* He looked around the bar, trying to spot anyone who might have sent it, but all he saw were faces lost in their own worlds.

He dismissed the message as a prank, taking another sip of his drink before setting it down on the counter with a thud. The bartender raised an eyebrow but said nothing, simply refilling Lucas's glass when he nodded at him. As he was about to take another drink, his phone buzzed again. This time, there was a picture attached—a grainy image of him standing over the body of the man he'd killed all those years ago.

Panic surged through him as he tried to process what was happening. Who could have taken that photo? And why send it now? He looked around the bar again, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat. Someone was watching him, playing with him. He could feel it.

He downed the rest of his whiskey and slid off the stool, grabbing his coat as he made his way to the door. The bartender called out after him, but Lucas didn't look back. He had to find out who was behind this, who knew about his past. He couldn't let them use it against him.

As he stepped out into the rain, he felt a chill run down his spine. Someone was close by, watching him from the shadows. He scanned the alley but saw nothing except for the dancing reflections of streetlights on puddles. He took a deep breath and started walking, trying to shake off the feeling that he was being followed.

His phone buzzed again, and he pulled it out, his hands shaking as he opened the message. This time, there was no picture, just words: *You can't hide from what you've done.* He stopped in his tracks, looking around wildly as if expecting to see someone there. But the alley was empty except for him and the rain.

He clenched his fists, trying to control his breathing as he walked faster, heading towards his car parked a few blocks away. Whoever this was, they were getting under his skin, playing with his mind. He couldn't let them win.

As he turned the corner onto the main street, he saw a figure darting between cars, moving quickly and quietly like a shadow. Lucas broke into a run, determined to catch up with whoever it was. But as he closed in on them, they slipped out of sight, disappearing into an alleyway.

Lucas skidded to a halt at the mouth of the alley, his gun drawn as he scanned the darkness for any sign of movement. He could hear footsteps echoing off the brick walls, but every time he thought he'd caught up with them, they would disappear again. It was like trying to catch smoke.

Frustrated, Lucas holstered his gun and pulled out his phone, dialing the number that had sent him the messages. It rang once before being answered by a voice distorted beyond recognition. "You can't run from your past, Detective," it said, sending a shiver down Lucas's spine.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice echoing in the alleyway. "What do you want?"

The voice laughed, a chilling sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "I want justice, Detective. And I'm going to make sure you pay for what you did."

Lucas felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as he realized what was happening. This wasn't just some prank or game—this was someone who knew about his past, who wanted revenge. And they were using everything they had to make him suffer.

He hung up the phone and started walking again, determined to put an end to this once and for all. He couldn't let fear control him, couldn't let whoever this was win. He had to find out who they were and stop them before it was too late.

As he rounded another corner, he saw a figure standing in the middle of the street, their back turned towards him. Lucas slowed his pace, pulling out his gun as he approached cautiously. The figure didn't move, seeming to be waiting for him.

He raised his gun, pointing it at the figure's head. "Turn around slowly," he said, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through his veins. "And tell me who you are."

The figure turned around, and Lucas felt a jolt of shock as he saw that it was a woman—young, with dark hair and eyes that seemed to pierce right through him. She smiled at him, her expression cold and calculated. "Hello, Detective," she said. "I've been waiting for you."

Lucas hesitated, lowering his gun slightly as he tried to process what was happening. He knew this woman—or at least, he thought he did. She looked just like the victim from that night all those years ago, the one whose life he had ended in a hail of gunfire. But that couldn't be possible. Could it?

"Who are you?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.

The woman took a step closer, her smile never wavering. "I'm your past, Detective," she said. "And I've come to collect what's owed."

Lucas felt a sense of dread wash over him as he realized the truth—this wasn't some random stranger playing a sick game with him. This was someone who knew everything about him, who had been waiting for this moment for years. And now that they were finally face-to-face, he didn't know what to do.

He raised his gun again, pointing it at the woman's chest. "Stay back," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I don't want any trouble."

The woman laughed, a sound that seemed to echo off the buildings around them. "Too late for that, Detective," she said. "You should have thought about the consequences before you pulled that trigger all those years ago."

Lucas felt a wave of panic wash over him as he realized what was happening—this woman wasn't just here to play games with him. She was here to kill him, to make him pay for his sins once and for all. And there was nothing he could do to stop her.

He fired his gun, the sound of the shot echoing through the streets like thunder. But it was too late—the woman had already disappeared into the shadows, leaving Lucas standing alone in the rain with only the echoes of his past to keep him company.

As he stood there, panting and shaking, he knew that this wasn't over yet. This woman would come for him again, would continue to haunt him until he paid the price for what he had done. And there was nothing he could do to stop her.

He holstered his gun and started walking, heading back towards his car with a heavy heart. He knew that he couldn't run from this forever—that eventually, he would have to face the demons of his past head-on. But for now, all he could do was keep moving forward, one step at a time.

Because in the end, that was all any of us could do. We might not be able to change our pasts or erase our mistakes, but we could choose how we faced them—and whether or not we let them define who we were. And for Lucas Kane, that meant standing tall and facing whatever came his way, no matter how dark or terrifying it might be.

As he stepped into the alleyway where he had first seen the woman, he felt a chill run down his spine—the same chill he had felt earlier when he knew someone was watching him. But this time, there was no one there. Just the shadows and the rain, whispering secrets from the past that would never truly be forgotten.

And as he walked out into the night, determined to face whatever came next, he couldn't help but feel a sense of resolve—a sense that no matter what happened, he would not go down without a fight. Because in the end, that was all any of us could do. We might not be able to change our pasts or erase our mistakes, but we could choose how we faced them—and whether or not we let them define who we were. And for Lucas Kane, that meant standing tall and facing whatever came his way, no matter how dark or terrifying it might be.