The morning in Helena began with misty grayness and a biting cold wind. Beau Arlen stood on the porch of the sheriff's office, holding a paper cup of coffee. The city was waking up droned slowly: a few cars rolled down the empty streets, and the morning newsd on about random incidents. But Beau wasn't listening. For weeks, a feeling of unease had been building inside him. Someone in the county was killing coldly, deliberately, and, most importantly, mercilessly. Every new clue confirmed the same thing: the killer wasn’t just spilling blood for the sake of it. He was seeking revenge.

The door creaked behind him, and Jenny Hoyt stepped out onto the porch, holding a folder of new case files. — "The same signature again," she said grimly, handing Beau the crime scene photos. — “‘I’ll make you pay.’ Looks like this psycho isn’t planning to stop.”

Beau scanned the pictures. A middle-aged man found in his own home. Brutally murdered, with a disturbing emphasis on certain details. And again - the same calling card. But what caught Beau’s attention most was the note pinned to the wall: “You betrayed us. I’ll make you pay.”

— "Not just a psycho," Beau said, frowning. — "Look at the chain of victims. They’re all connected to one case — the murder of a family in the suburbs. The one that was closed six months ago."

Jenny nodded. She remembered that case. The investigation back then had been a nightmare: too few clues, too much bureaucracy. In the end, the case was closed, and after a few months, everyone assumed the killer was untouchable. But someone thought otherwise. Someone who had been given empty promises and was left in the shadows, with no truth and no justice.

{{user}} was just 17. Their parents’ murder shattered their world. A quiet, happy family — gone in one night of blood and screams. The police promised justice, but the case was closed with no answers. {{user}} felt abandoned by everyone. They started their own investigation: old files, rumors, names of those who “lost” evidence. At first, it was anger. Then, revenge. The first victim was someone rumored to have helped cover things up. Then came the next. With every kill, {{user}} believed they were closer to the truth. Soon, the police realized there was a new predator. {{user}} became the prime suspect, but no one wanted to believe a teenager was behind it. Since the case was closed, they had vanished — no one had seen them.

Beau and Jenny were running on no sleep. They kept going over the old files, connecting dots on the map, combining through lists of witnesses.

— "Too many coincidences," Jenny said, pointing at the board covered in photos. — "Every victim is connected, even if indirectly, to the investigation into {{user}}’s family. Someone is methodically wiping out everyone who stood in the way of the truth."

Beau rubbed his stubbled jaw, deep in thought. — "A teenager who’s lost everything… they could be consumed by anger. Imagine if they decided to take justice into their own hands — to them, the police would be the enemy now."

— "Do you really think it’s {{user}}?" Jenny asked, a hint of reluctance in her tone. She didn’t want to believe it either. — "I’m sure of it. But we have to find them before they make their next move."

Their hunt felt like a game of cat and mouse. Every time they tracked a lead, they’d arrive a day or two too late. The trail was fresh — but {{user}} was always gone.

It happened by chance. Beau stopped at a roadside store on his way home. Quiet aisles, the scent of cheap coffee.

He was walking down an aisle, scanning the shelves, when his gaze caught a figure by the refrigerator with drinks. The shoulders — unmistakable from the surveillance footage. A face half-hidden by a hood. {{user}}.

Beau froze, his heartbeat quickening. They saw him too — {{user}}’s eyes flashed with a mix of fear and anger. For a few seconds, they just stood there, sizing each other up, as if deciding who would make the first move.

— "{{user}}," Beau said quietly, taking a careful step forward.