The lab

The lab
    Astrid POV
Day three.
And still… nothing.
No slip-ups.
No strange behavior.
No cracks in anyone’s routine.
Just… normal.
Too normal.
I leaned back slightly in my seat, eyes fixed ahead while my pen tapped lightly against my notebook—not writing anything, just keeping up the act.
Watching.
Waiting.
Hunting.
And finding absolutely nothing.
After yesterday’s run, the conversation had shifted.
Doubt had crept in.
Quiet at first… then louder.
What if it really was an accident?
The question had been thrown around the room like something no one wanted to catch.
Odin had nothing on the officials.
“Clean,” he had said. “Too clean.”
Killian and Jason? Nothing on Shawn either.
Just a boy living his life.
Classes. Gym. Friends. His girlfriend.
Which you and I might find weird for someone that lost his cousin but still,
No hidden meetings. No suspicious calls. No late-night disappearances.
Just… normal.
And Hera?
Nothing on Gracie.
Not a single thing.
Which somehow made it worse.
Because now the question wasn’t just who—
It was how well are they hiding it?
Or worse…
Are we chasing nothing?
But it didn’t sit right.
None of it did.
Ellie drowning?
No.
Not like that.
Not someone who could swim.
Not someone who trained.
Something was off.
I could feel it.
And I trusted that feeling more than I trusted facts right now.
Which was how I ended up following Mr. Jay home yesterday.
Even now, thinking about it made me frown slightly.
Why him?
Because Killian had said it.
Because Odin had agreed.
Because someone had to be wrong.
And if everyone else was clean…
Then maybe the mistake was closer than we thought.
Mr. Jay.
The anatomy lecturer.
Always present when bodies were brought in.
Always calm.
Always… there.
Was that enough to suspect him?
No.
Was it enough for me to follow him anyway?
Yes.
And what did I find?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
I had trailed him from school to his house without him even glancing back once.
No paranoia.
No caution.
No sign that he even felt watched.
Just… a man going home.
His house?
Small. Neat. Quiet.
Too quiet.
I had stayed hidden, watching through the window like some obsessed creep, waiting for something, anything, to feel off.
But all I saw was…
Routine.
Morning jogs.
Slow, steady.
No rush.
No detours.
Breakfast—simple.
Tea.
Toast.
Fruit.
Meditation.
Actual meditation.
Who even does that?
Then his rabbit.
A small, fluffy thing hopping around his living room while he sat on the floor like a man completely at peace with life.
I had stared at that scene longer than I’d like to admit.
Because it didn’t make sense.
Killers don’t live like that.
Do they?
Still…
I planted the tracker.
Just in case.
Because doubt is dangerous.
And I wasn’t about to let a calm face fool me.
But even that?
Useless.
His movements were predictable.
If not school, then the mall.
If not the mall, then a coffee shop.
If not that, a bookstore.
Every. Single. Time.
No hidden locations.
No strange stops.
No late-night drives.
Just… routine.
Clean.
Perfectly clean.
Which only made it worse.
Because now I was left with questions I didn’t like.
Was he just that good?
Or…
Was I looking in the wrong place?
I exhaled slowly, dragging my gaze back to the present.
Back to the classroom.
Back to him.
Mr. Jay stood at the front, explaining something about muscle structure like nothing in the world was wrong.
Like no one had died.
Like we weren’t all silently hunting a killer among us.
My eyes stayed on him.
Sharp.
Unblinking.
Studying every movement.
Every pause.
Every breath.
Nothing.
Not even a flicker.
I tilted my head slightly.
How?
I had been with him that night.
After Ellie’s body was found.
He had been there.
Calm.
Collected.
Helpful.
Too… perfect.
A thought slipped into my mind.
Quiet.
Unwanted.
What if he’s not who he says he is?
My fingers tightened slightly around my pen.
What if this version of him… isn’t real?
A clone?
A replacement?
Something wearing his face?
I almost scoffed at myself.
That sounded insane.
Even for us.

But still…
No evidence.
No proof.
Nothing to hold on to.
Just instincts.
And instincts don’t win cases.
I leaned forward slightly, resting my chin on my hand as I continued watching him.
Carefully.
Patiently.
Because if there was one thing I knew for sure—
Something was wrong.
And I wasn’t leaving until I found out what it was.

-SKIP SKIP-
Do I have classes today?
Nope.
What made me join the anatomy class?
The mission at hand.
The campus looked normal.
Too normal.
Students walked past with books tucked under their arms, laughter spilling into the air like nothing in the world had shifted. Conversations about assignments, relationships, exams—life, just… moving.
Meanwhile, a dead girl’s truth sat buried somewhere beneath all of it.
And I was here to dig it out.
Not for class. Not today.
I didn’t even bother heading toward the lecture halls. My steps carried me elsewhere—steadier, quieter, more deliberate.
The lab.
I initially didn’t plan to go there, I just let my legs lead me.
Each step toward it felt heavier than the last, though I couldn’t explain why. My fingers curled slightly at my sides as I approached the door, my pulse picking up in a way that had nothing to do with fear—
—and everything to do with familiarity.
I stopped.
Right there at the entrance.
A pressure settled on my chest.
Subtle.
But suffocating.
My brows pulled together slowly as my gaze swept over the door, the walls, the handles—everything exactly how it always looked.
And yet…
Not.
“This again…” I whispered under my breath.
This was the lab.
The same lab.
The one from my dreams.
Those damn dreams that wouldn’t stop replaying, same setting, same cold air, same feeling of being watched.
My throat went dry.
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
“Please don’t tell me I’m dreaming too…” I muttered, exhaling softly as I forced my hand forward and pushed the door open.
It creaked.
Quiet.
Welcoming.
Wrong.
I stepped in.
Slowly.
Carefully.
My boots echoed faintly against the tiled floor as my eyes scanned the space. Equipment neatly arranged. Tables spotless. Shelves untouched.
Everything… ordinary.
But the feeling didn’t leave.
If anything—it deepened.
My gaze drifted toward the center of the room.
And that’s when I saw it.
A figure.
Standing there.
Back facing me.
Still.
Just like the dream.
My head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing.
There it is again.
The same position.
The same silhouette.
My heartbeat kicked.
“Hello?” I called out, cautious but firm.
The figure didn’t respond immediately.
Instead,
It moved.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Turning.
And when the face came into view—
I flinched.
My breath hitched.
“Mr… Jay?”
He looked just as surprised as I felt.
Holding test tubes.
Standing there like he belonged.
“Oh—” I let out a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach my chest. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to startle you.”
He blinked once, then smiled—calm, almost amused.
“I should be the one apologizing,” he said. “Didn’t expect anyone here by this time.”
His voice was steady.
Normal.
Too normal.
I swallowed, forcing my shoulders to relax as I stepped further in.
“Yeah, well…” I gestured vaguely. “Didn’t expect to find you here either.”
His brow lifted slightly.
“Oh?”
I tilted my head, watching him carefully.
“You’re usually in the anatomy lab.”
A small chuckle left him.
“It’s not the only thing I know. I think I saw you in one of the classes I had”
Something about the way he said it—
Light.
But layered.
I smiled back, though mine was more controlled.
“Right… of course. I think you saw me”
He turned slightly, placing the test tubes down on the table with precise movements. I followed him without thinking, my steps slower now, more observant.
“What are you working on?” I asked casually.
“A small test,” he replied. “Nothing too serious.”
Nothing too serious.
That answer did nothing to settle the unease curling in my stomach.
Or am I just overthinking all his response?
“What about you?” he added, glancing at me. “What brings you here?”
I shrugged lightly.
“Just… walking around. Needed some air.”
He nodded like that made perfect sense.
But his eyes lingered on me a second longer than necessary.
Studying.
Measuring.
I resisted the urge to shift under his gaze.
Silence stretched between us.
Thick.
Uncomfortable.
And I hated that I couldn’t tell if it was just me… or if something was actually off.
“You seem tense,” he said suddenly.
My eyes snapped to his.
Shit.
I smiled quickly, brushing it off.
“Do I? Probably just tired. Been… a long few days.”
“Hmm.”
That was all he said.
Just… hmm.
Like he didn’t fully believe me.
Like he knew more.
My fingers twitched slightly at my side.
Okay… this is getting weird.
“I should probably—” I started, turning slightly toward the door.
And that’s when I saw it.
A bag.
Half-open.
Resting on the table.
And sticking out of it—
Cloth.
But not just any cloth.
My steps slowed as I drifted toward it, curiosity pulling me in before caution could stop me.
I reached out slightly, tilting my head as I took it in.
It looked…
Strange.
Thicker than normal fabric.
Structured.
Almost… mechanical? Is he a mechanic now?
My brows furrowed.
“What’s this?” I asked, glancing back at him.
He followed my gaze, then let out a small laugh.
“Oh, that?”
I raised a brow.
“Yeah… that.”
I picked it up slightly, examining it.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me you do mechanics too.”
He laughed again—this time a little louder.
“Why would you say that?”
I shrugged, still looking at the material.
“Well… you know chemistry, anatomy…” I gestured vaguely. “At this point, I’m expecting you to say you build engines in your spare time.”
He shook his head, amused.
“Not quite.”
“So what is it?”
He paused.
Just for a second.
Then—
“Painting gear.”
I blinked.
“Painting?”
“Yes.”
I looked down at it again.
Then back at him.
Then back at it.
“…That doesn’t look like any painter’s cloth I’ve seen.”
He laughed softly, nodding.
“I know. It’s not mine. Borrowed it from a friend.”
My lips parted slightly.
“Oh.”
A beat.
“…Oh.”
I placed it back slowly, wiping my palm lightly against my jeans.
In my head—
Nothing added up.
But nothing proved anything either.
That was the frustrating part.
Everything about him felt…
Off.
But there was no solid reason.
No evidence.
No slip.
Just vibes.
And vibes weren’t enough to accuse someone of murder.
“I need it for some work at home,” he added casually, adjusting the bag.
I nodded slowly.
“Right… painting.”
God, that sounded weak even to me.
Silence settled again.
And this time, I didn’t fight it.
“I should go,” I said finally, turning toward the door.
Before I could take a step—
“Astrid.”
I froze.
My spine straightened slightly before I turned back.
“Yes?”
He smiled.
Calm.
Inviting.
“Would you be free for tea sometime?”
My breath caught.
Of all things—
Tea?
My lecturer?
My mind scrambled for a second.
“Uh…”
I blinked, caught off guard.
“That’s… um…”
Say no.
Just say no.
“I don’t think so,” I finally said, forcing a polite smile. “I’ve been… really busy lately.”
“Of course,” he replied easily, like he expected it.
No pressure.
No insistence.
Just acceptance.
Which somehow made it worse.
“Another time, perhaps.”
“Maybe,” I said, though we both knew that wasn’t happening.
He nodded once.
“Take care, Astrid.”
“You too, sir.”
I didn’t wait.
I turned and walked out.
Calm steps.
Measured pace.
But the moment I stepped outside—
I exhaled sharply.
My chest rising and falling faster now.
That feeling.
It hadn’t left.
If anything—
It followed me out.
I glanced back once at the lab door.
Closed.
Quiet.
Normal.
And yet…
My gut twisted.
I couldn’t prove anything.
Not a single thing.
But something about that room…
About him…
Didn’t sit right.
And I hated that I didn’t know why.