Ghostfinder: Shift

GHOSTFINDER: SHIFT WRITTEN/CREATED BY: HAN-JOO KIM Content Warning: Graphic descriptions of sexual violence, multiple misogynistic murders, and severe misogynistic language. Exercise discretion. .... NOVEMBER 4, 2019. SOLDOUT DINER, ELLROY 8:43 P.M. You have never known Detective Jim Stanton to ask for a face-to-face meeting for anything less severe than a triple homicide. You try to hide your trepidation with your usual mask of stoicism but you sense that it isn't working. "I wanna thank you for coming out here. I didn't want to drop this on you over the phone," he says. You first met Stanton a few years back when you worked together on a murder that, at the time, seemed to involve magical malfeasance. It hadn't, but unusually for a policeman, he seemed amused rather than angered that you'd poked holes in his pet theory. "Whatever puts the right people behind bars," he'd said. He'd made a good impression, and since then you've been on good terms with him. He would pass on cases that might be of interest and you would do your best to help him in whatever capacity you could. You were looking over some reports from the Midwest regarding a possible sighting of a serial cult leader known to the ghostfinders and the federal authorities to be a walk-in when you received the call. "I know it's a thirty minute drive but trust me, you're gonna wanna hear this in person," he said. //You're not interrupting anything that important anyway.// [[Sounded pretty urgent.|Page 2]] [[You didn't interrupt anything. What's happening?|Page 2]] {(if: (saved-games:) contains "Slot A")[ (link: "Load Game")[(load-game:"Slot A")] ]}

"You already know about the Bay Side Killer right?" You'd have to be living under a rock not to. "Two nights ago, he hit victim number six. Janine Harris, 21 year old bartender. Brass put a temporary media blackout on it. Anyway, we got an anonymous tipoff that night. Girl's housemate was over at her boyfriend's place for the evening, so we probably wouldn't have found out about her until morning otherwise. We traced the call to a gas station two blocks away, checked the hidden security cameras." He pulls out the prints from the cameras. "That's someone you know right?" //Cyra// [[Yes.]]

"She's obviously not a suspect but at the very least, she's a person of interest. And I didn't want to run her up without telling you first." [[Did you find any ties to the victim?]]

"We didn't really find much. This is all happening pretty quick." Stanton looks out the window, voice taking a tone of defeat you only ever hear from him on rare occasions. "Six victims, all in the span of less than a year. We have another week, maybe, to close this thing before it goes federal." [[It hasn't already?]] [[The feds are bound to make a mess of this.]] [[Sounds like you have a lot to worry about.]]

"No, the chief's been cockblocking it from day one, but that's obviously not gonna hold. Public outrage alone is turning into a PR clusterfuck. So whatever this is, you don't have a lot of time to dig into it before the secret agent men start showing up." [[Thank you for sharing this with me. I owe you one.]]

"You don't owe me shit." .... You drop in the next day to visit Cyra at her apartment without notice. You knock on the door. No response for a good ten seconds before you get a text message on your phone. "Door's open." How about that. You let yourself in. "I'm in my room. You can come in." A tight, cramped little place that would turn life into a miserable exercise in self-torture for anyone with severe claustrophobia. You make your way toward what you think is her room - the only one lit you can see at the end of a short corridor, door slightly ajar - and enter slowly. Cyra sits at her desk, tending to a collection of mounted butterflies. She speaks to you without turning around. "Is this one of those snap inspections like they do in the military?" [[Something like that. Should you really keep your door open with the Bay Side Killer running around, even during the day?]]

"Maybe I'm hoping that he comes in." She lays down her tools and wheels around in her swivel chair to face you. [[You're an amateur lepidoptereologist.]] [[You like pinning and framing dead butterflies.]] [[That's an interesting hobby you've got there.]]

"One of my favorite foster parents was a butterfly collector and it rubbed off on me. It's relaxing and a little bit ghoulish so naturally, right up my alley. You didn't come here to talk to me about butterflies though, did you?" [[Are you reading my mind?]]

"I don't have to." [[You knew a woman named Janine Harris didn't you?]]

"She was a friend from high school." [[You know someoned killed her.]]

"Yes, because I was there that night and I called the police." You remain silent, letting her explain herself. "She was a friend from high school and I wanted to check up on her." [[That night, àpropos of nothing?]] [[Do you often do these impromptu check-ups on high school friends?]] [[Please stop dancing around the issue and just tell me what happened.]]

"No, not àpropos of nothing. I'm a shifter. I shifted into someone who was watching her that night. I got worried." You feel your heart drop to your stomach. //Shifter.// A shifter is a rare type of psy-active that involuntarily enters periodic trances, during which time they assume the perspective of another person and see what they see, feel, and hear in that moment. It is entirely possible to train oneself so that these periodic "shifts" to not occur, but until then, a shifter cannot be trusted to operate heavy machinery or perform any duty that cannot risk the performer losing consciousness, even for a few seconds at a time. [[How long has this been happening?]]

"Few years. But it's been getting better." [[I don't care if it's been getting better. You lied to me.]] [[You should have told us from the beginning. This is bad.]] [[You shifted into the Bay Side Killer?]]

"I'm sorry. I thought I could keep it under control. And I have." [[I don't consider shifting into the Bay Side Killer and getting mixed up in an active investigation to be "keeping it under control".|BSKStory]]

"I know, I know it's bad. But I've been keeping it under control." [[I don't consider shifting into the Bay Side Killer and getting mixed up in an active investigation to be "keeping it under control".|BSKStory]]

"Maybe. I think I must have. It all just happened so fast." [[Tell me what happened.|BSKStory]]

She begins telling you exactly what had happened, starting from the beginning. "I was sitting in my room, reading that decomposition forensics book you told me about. I was about halfway through the first chapter, and it happened. One moment I'm fine then I just.... Went. I just went straight into it, like a dream." The dream went thus: A man (a shifter cannot know what the shiftee looks like, but always knows the gender) stood outside at a stoplight across from the Three Impostors, a well-known local watering hole. A bartender working there stepped outside as the bar closed and Cyra recognized her as Janine, a high school friend with whom she'd remained in contact. Janine headed straight for the parking lot behind the bar while the man continued to stand there, watching. Then she shifted back. "I didn't really think much of it. I mean, I recognized Janine but I didn't think that was a big deal." [[Did you have any idea as to who was watching her?]]

"No. No, I didn't. I thought he just happened to be there when I shifted. I didn't think he was consciously watching her at all." "About an hour passed and I got tired so I decided to wash up and go to bed. I couldn't sleep so I got up to do some more reading. This might have been around midnight, I think? That's when it happened again." [[Do you often shift twice in one evening?]]

"No, never. That's why it shocked me, at first. I was back in the same man. He was outside her house, just across the street, and he was just.... Looking at it. Just watching her house. He wasn't in a vehicle or anything, he was just standing there, watching. Then I came back." [[What did you do then?]]

"Nothing, at first. I thought it was nothing. I tried going back to sleep. Then I got worried. I heard about the Bay Side Killer on the news and I just.... I don't know. I didn't want to think it. I didn't want to believe that that was what it was, but I couldn't stop myself, so I called her. It just rang and rang and I was so sure it was going to voicemail but then.... He picked up." [["He?"]]

"Yeah." A deep voiced man, deliberately lowering his voice and speaking with some kind of affected accent meant to hide his identity. "Hello?" she'd asked. "Who is this?" Not wanting to leap straight to the worst possible conclusion and thinking, perhaps, that this was a boyfriend or some other kind of male acquaintance that she hadn't known about, Cyra simply asked to speak to her friend Janine. "Janine can't come to the phone right now," the man said, with a note of sickening, mocking glee in his voice. He then hung up. "So I drove out there-" [[You drove out there? You didn't think to call someone first?]]

"I can handle myself, Six. I had my weapon." She drove out to the address where she'd spent what had felt like a good ten to twenty minutes sitting in her car, contemplating whether she should even do anything. Perhaps this whole thing had been one big flight of fancy, she'd thought. Perhaps there was nothing to it at all. Perhaps she risked rudely waking up her friend in the middle of the night for no reason other than a general panicky disposition, and a tendency to let imagination get the better of good judgement. But something hadn't felt right. Two shifts in one night, she hadn't imagined that surely. And so she went. After ringing the doorbell twice to no avail, she found the door open and let herself in with her sidearm at the ready. There had been a complete stillness to the home that had disquieted her; a complete absence of sound, motion, or the warm aura of life only ever found in uninhabited places. Surely no building with a living creature in it, even a sleeping one, could feel this way. After two rings of the doorbell, no less. Perhaps somewhat paradoxically, the realization caused her heartbeat to quicken. Already familiar with the layout of the home from previous visits and no longer concerned with decorum, Cyra made her way to the her friend's room. There, on an unadorned mattress on the floor, lay a bulge in the rough shape of a young woman, covered head-to-toe in a blanket. With dread and a preemptive sadness that came with somehow knowing exactly what she'd find, she pulled back the blanket. Janine had been strangled. A thin, red line across her neck suggested a rope of some kind was used. Her dead, lifeless eyes were wide open and threatening to bulge out of her face, which had taken on a sickening, dark purple hue. Her hands, evidently, had also been bound; they were gray from prolonged blood deprivation, and had had the same red markings around the wrists as those on her neck. The white T-shirt she'd worn to bed was still on, but her bottom was not. With an act that must have no doubt required incredible resolve, Cyra took a moment to examine her friend's pubic region for any sign of seminal residue before finding none, and rushing out to vomit in the bushes surrounding the front doorway. After taking a few moments to gather her thoughts, she resolved to walk, not drive, to the nearest payphone, which she knew was at a gas station only a brief distance away, and provide the police with an anonymous tip. "Then I walked back to my car and went home. That's it. That's all that happened." [[Why didn't you tell me?]]

"Because I knew you would wash me out." [[Yes, I'm going to wash you out but that's beside the point. You should have come to me with this first.]] [[You should have trusted your field instructor. It wasn't your place to mix yourself up in something like this.]]

"Are they going to catch him?" [[I don't know.]]

She looks down in silence. [[I'll have to put in a word to the chapter office. Starting today, you are no longer a part of the order.]]

"Wait. You can wash me out. Fine. I don't care about that anymore. But before you do, you have to let me catch him. You have to let me do that. Once he's gone, you can do whatever you want." [[You're a shifter and you lied to me. I don't owe you anything.]] [[How can you possibly feel entitled to anything at this point?]] [[I'm sorry, but that's not possible.]]

"Well I owe my friend justice! I owe her that. Do you know who she was to me? She was the closest thing I had for a long time to a family! She was there for me when nobody else cared. I cried on her shoulders when nobody else was around. She didn't deserve to get tied up and raped and murdered by that piece of shit and if I don't do something about it, I will never be able to look myself in the mirror again and see someone I respect. Please. Please tell me that that's something that you can understand. Please tell me that." .... [[One case. This case. As soon as it's done, you're out.]]

"Thank you." .... Ambrose flies in that evening, insisting that it would be no great inconvenience to do so. He attempts, even, to try to ask you not to pick him up at the airport ("Really, Six, I can get a cab. Just give me the address.") but this proves a step too far and you drive out anyway. "Shifters are pretty rare these days," says Ambrose on your way back, "Blue told me about what happened with the Wright murder by the way. Sounded like she acquitted herself pretty well." [[She lied to me and I'm having her washed out as soon as this is over.]] [[A shifter can't be a ghostfinder, Ambrose. A cat 2 psychic was pushing it as it is.|She lied to me and I'm having her washed out as soon as this is over.]] [[You don't actually think she deserves to stay on?|She lied to me and I'm having her washed out as soon as this is over.]]

"You do what you gotta do. I'm just saying, if it weren't for the shifting she's probably a keeper." You two arrive and head up the elevator to the fourth floor where Cyra actually responds to your knocking this time. [[Cyra, this is Ambrose. Ambrose, Cyra. Ambrose is an old friend of mine and an expert on psy-activity. He's also promised not to tell anyone about any of this until it's finished.]]

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ambrose," says Cyra with a handshake. "Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" "I've already eaten on the way over but thank you," says Ambrose. "So, Six tells me that you are a shifter. How long has that been happening?" "A few years. My first incident happened on January 3, 2017," says Cyra. "You remember the date," says Ambrose, surprised. "I've actually been keeping a journal where I record the date and description of all my shifts," says Cyra. "That's fantastic. That really is. I think that's absolutely going to help us a lot going forward. How often do you shift?" says Ambrose. "Maybe once or twice every few months," says Cyra. "But never twice in one night?" says Ambrose. "No sir. Not before that night." [[Ambrose, I don't mean to be rude but how do we make it stop?]]

"We'll get to that in a minute. Cyra, could we see this journal please?" Cyra goes into her room and brings out the journal, a leatherbound six-by-eight with a tie strap running around it. "Shifters only ever go through maybe four or five different people over and over again, randomly," says Ambrose, "That's unless they move to a different geographical location for, say, about a year. At that point they might start shifting into a different set of four to five different people. In all likelihood, that night was probably not the first time you shifted into the Bay Side Killer. May I read the journal?" "Yeah, of course," says Cyra as she hands it over. Ambrose flips through the journal, quickly at first, then more carefully, taking in the contents of each page with studious focus. "Six, this is great. We can work with this." [[Each shift is about, what, ten to fifteen seconds?]]

"Give or take a few, yeah," says Ambrose. [[How exactly does that help us? We have ten to fifteen second snippets, maybe a few of them are from the killer's perspective. That's not enough.]]

"Not enough on its own, no. But we don't just have a journal, we have a launching pad. The real journal isn't on the paper, it's in her head. That's what we have." "I don't really understand," says Cyra. "All these shifts are still in your memory. And they'll stay there, forever. They never go away. Everything you saw, everything you heard, in perfect photographic detail without being distorted in any way. Because they're not your memories. They're imprints of a psychic phenomenon. If you try, if you actually concentrate and put your mind to it, you can bring those memories back and study them as much you need to." "How do I do that?" He hands her back the journal. "Pick a date, any date." She looks through the journal for a second before choosing something. "Okay. This one." "Alright. Now, this will probably work best if you're seated." Cyra takes a seat on the couch. Ambrose kneels down in front of her. "You need to be absolutely comfortable. Remember that there's no need to rush or force anything to happen." "Right." "Are you comfortable right now?" "As much as I can be." "Good. When you're ready, close your eyes for me." She takes a sharp breath in and out then closes her eyes. "I want you to try to imagine what you feel just before you shift." "It feels a little like falling backwards." "Perfect. I want you to imagine that feeling as strongly as you can. I want you to focus on it. And remember to breathe." You watch carefully, saying nothing. "Now I want you to slowly start playing back the scene you want to recall. I want you to remember the smell. I want you to remember the sight, the feel. The temperature of the environment you were in, the humidity. I want you to let it slowly develop in your mind. Let it come to you as slowly or as quickly as you need it to." //You are bouncing up and down, hooting and hollering. You are in the middle of a spare crowd in what looks like an arcade. About ten feet away from you, a band is performing; two guitars, a bassist, a drummer, and a female singer. You are dancing. Your friend next to you has a cup of beer in his hand. The singer hits a high note; she is a tall, pale skinned brunette in a little black retro dress who looks, to you, gorgeous. The crowd goes wild.// Cyra is perfectly still, so much so that you begin to fear that her heart has stopped. Her mouth comes open in agonizing slow motion. She begins to utter a few syllables. "Duh-d-d-uh-duh-" //Make it stop.// The stuttering starts slowly before picking up pace, turning quick into a fast paced staccato. At the same time, her breathing goes fast and shallow. "D-d-d-duh-d-duh-duh-d-duh-" Her eyes open and then roll into the back of her head. All sounds stop and streams of red blood start to run out of her eyes. [[Ambrose, make it stop.]]

"Cyra? Cyra!" Ambrose snaps his fingers multiple times in her face to no avail. "Cyra!" He delivers a nice, sharp slap to her face. This seems to do the trick. She begins breathing again and her eyes return to normal. She jumps up with a short scream then thrashes about like a child waking up from an especially bothersome nightmare, yelping and blubbering in terror. Ambrose gently grabs her by the shoulders. "It's alright. It's alright. We're here. We're here with you. Breathe. Take a deep breath. You're okay." It takes a few seconds but under Ambrose's guidance, her breathing regains its natural rhythm. Her speech takes a bit longer. "You're gonna be okay," he reassures her. "I-I-I saw it. I went back. It was all there," she says. "You did great. What you did was fantastic. You can relax now," he says, wiping the blood from her face with his sleeve. You head into the kitchen and grab her a glass of water. "Thank you," she says. "Six, we should probably discuss this in private," says Ambrose. [[I think so too.]]

You step outside to grab some fresh air and, hopefully, a bit of privacy. "That went better than it could have," says Ambrose. [[I hope you're joking. We're not doing that again.|Ambrose, no]] [[Ambrose, she bled from her eyeballs.|Ambrose, no]] [[Do I want to know how it could have gone worse?|Ambrose, no]]

"I know how bad it looks but I'll be here the whole time and I'll be teaching her. She'll be able to do it without overheating, I promise." [[What I want to know is, can you make her stop shifting?]] [[How long until she stops shifting completely?]]

"It'll take some time but yeah, we can get there." Ambrose walks a few feet forward to lean up against the railing that overlooks the parking lot. He lets out a short sigh. "How do you like our odds of closing this thing?" he asks. [[Honestly? Not much.]]

"Yeah, you're probably right about that. Feds involved yet?" [[Not yet. Soon, though.]]

"So we're on a schedule. Fantastic." [[I don't remember if I told you already, but the only reason I even knew about her shifting is because of a friend in the department. I can probably talk him into letting us in on whatever they have so far.]]

"Okay, that's a start. That's good." [[What about you? You have anything to share?]]

"What, you mean beside the part where I'm training your protegé in getting her shifting under control? No, I can't think of anything else at the moment." [[Don't be a smartass.]]

"There might be something at our chapter office I can share on a strict no-telling-anyone-about-this-ever policy, if you can agree to it." [[Signed. What is it?]]

"It's a database compiled from everything the order has. Public records we have access to, things the police shared with us, information from the good folks at the Tarrimack University. Anything that gets stamped 'of interest' by the busy people. Might be useless, might help a lot." [[Can't hurt.]]

"It's accessed through the dark web. I'll give you the address later." You step back inside. Cyra has fixed herself a cup of something warm and is sipping it on the couch. She looks over at you. "How do you feel?" asks Ambrose. "A lot better," says Cyra, "Thank you." "It's only happened once before, when I pushed myself too far. It took me about an hour to get back to normal then but it's taken me a few minutes now so I guess that's progress." "It is. That's tremendous progress," says Ambrose. "So what do we do now? I still don't know how to make it stop," says Cyra. "We'll work on that later. It's not much different from what you just did. Once you learn to do one reliably the other should happen too. In the meantime, Six, I think you should get in touch with your friend in the department, see if he'd be willing to let us in." [[Consider it done.]]

"And Cyra, I want you to keep making records of any more shift incidents you might have, but I also think it might be for the best if Six and I made copies of the existing entries for reference. Would that be okay with you?" "Absolutely." "I'd also like you to tell us right away if you go through any more shifts from now on. No more secrets. The only way this can work is if we trust each other completely." "Of course. Thank you, both of you, so much. For everything." Ambrose leaves Cyra his number and you two leave the apartment. "Drop me off at the Hotel Warren," says Ambrose, "It's not too far from here." [[Don't be ridiculous. You're staying with me. Get in the car.]]

You overcome the senior ghostfinder's protests with minimal effort and drive back to your own apartment. [[Kitchen's here, bathroom's over there. Anything else, just ask.]]

[Take a look at the case files.]<c1| (click: ?c1)[//Where would you like to start?// [[Start with the victims]] [[The Calernia Burglar (Stanton's Note: "Very Important")]]] [Look through Cyra's shift journal.]<c2| (click: ?c2) [ [[February 5, 2017]] (if: $febshift is 1) [//Shooting range and bowling alley//] [[March 18, 2017]] (if: $marchshift is 1) [//Conversation involving catering job and a refinery job//] [[August 8, 2017]] (if: $refineryshift is 1) [//Walking through the Calernia Refinery//] [[October 21, 2017]] (if: $snowboarding is 1) [//Trying on snowboarding boots//] [[December 14, 2017]] (if: $jogging is 1) [//Woman jogging past beat-up yellow truck//] [[January 11, 2018]] (if: $creepyguy is 1) [//Man carressing a baby//] [[February 2, 2018]](if: $pigsex is 1) [//Weird pig mask thing//] [[March 4, 2018]](if: $barcadegame is 1) [//Guy playing Space Racer at barcade//] [[July 7, 2018]] (if: $veganstuff is 1) [//Guy shopping at vegan grocery store//] [[September 15, 2018]] (if: $biketheft is 1) [//Guy stealing a bike in Tannersville//] [[October 20, 2018]] (if: $brunette is 1) [//Brunette with pronounced nose talking to man//] [[March 1, 2019]] (if: $bandshow is 1) [//Small concert at a barcade//] [[April 2, 2019]] (if: $redhead is 1) [//Freckled, redheaded young woman with green eyes, crying//] [[May 7, 2019]](if: $basementroom is 1) [//Man in a basement rec room watching the news//] [[June 3, 2019]] (if: $recording is 1) [//A guy in a recording studio//] [[July 7, 2019]](if: $burgerevent is 1) [//Man serving up burgers at an event//] ] Make use of the Ghostfinder Database `(Lower case only!)`: <input type="text" data-varname="databaseResult">\ <script>processInputElements();</script> (link-goto:"Go", "Results") [How to use the ghostfinder database]<c3| (click: ?c3) [//The ghostfinder database is your primary means of conducting this investigation. Any time you come across a name, whether it be the name of a suspect, victim, witness, place, or a thing, you can type that name into the database in order to try and learn more about it/them. Feeling stuck? Consult your notepad and ghostfinder instincts to find out what you might have missed or forgotten!//] (if: $Linton is 1) [[[Call Cyra|Linton Visit]]] (if: $pizza is 1) [ [[Visit Spaceman Pizza]] ] (if: $burger is 1) [ [[Visit Burger Assault]] ] (if: $viewer is 1) [ [[Visit the Viewer office]] ] (if: $irwin is 1) [ [[Talk to Caden Irwin]] ] (if: $impostors is 1) [ [[Visit the Three Impostors]] ] (if: $progress >= 4) [ Who is the Bay Side Killer? Enter your guess here in all lower caps: <input type="text" data-varname="killerResult">\ <script>processInputElements();</script> (link-goto:"Go", "Killer Results") ] [[Ghostfinder Instinct]] [[Access your notepad]] {(link:"Save Game")[ (if:(save-game:"Slot A"))[ Saved! ](else: )[ Sorry, your game could not be saved. ] ]}

NOVEMBER 6, 2019. 9:10 A.M. "I sort of want to kiss you right now. Come by the office." You'd expected Stanton might be open to the idea of letting you in, but not this open. You drive out to the precinct. "Fed pressure's mounting. They already sent a couple people from the FID last night. Nothing committal yet but it's coming," says Stanton. [[Sounds like we have even less time than I thought.]]

"No kidding. What happened with your student anyway? What did that turn out to be?" You tell him the story, stipulating beforehand that he must never share it with anyone. "Wow. That's pretty wild," he says. "So, what, you think you actually have some 'shift' memories of this guy and you just have to figure out which ones they are?" [[They're maybe ten to fifteen second snippets, I'm honestly not hoping for much.]]

"But who knows, right? I'll give you what I can. Technically, I'm not supposed to share material pertinent to the ongoing investigation with outside eyes so you probably shouldn't tell anyone about this." [[Plausible deniability. I get it.]]

"I mean it. You're on your own out there. I can't be seen helping you or letting you in on any of this. One word gets to the feds I got shades involved and we're all fucked." You nod to indicate that you understood. "Good luck," says Stanton on your way out, "Beer's on me if you actually nail this fucker." You take Stanton's files back to your residence. "You're back," says Ambrose, "That was pretty quick." Case files. Cyra's journal. This experimental ghostfinder search engine thing. "I think that should be enough to get started," says Ambrose, "Here, I'll give you the address." gfdataxhdm39n4.onion. You load up your TOR browser and punch in the address, which takes you to a log-in screen. You log in with the appropriate username and password that they assigned you a few years ago, which then takes you to a half-finished site with a search bar and six or so more options on a toolbar above it. "Type in whatever you want and if there's a hit, it'll take you to something," says Ambrose, "For example, if there's a name you think might be relevant, type it in and if that person's been on our radar at any point for any reason, you should get something. If there's a business name or a place name, whatever. The idea is to help you find patterns, if there are any. Even vague stuff like 'factory' or 'energy station' sometimes work. Seriously, go crazy. If you think it might be in there, look it up. Personally, I'd start with names: All of the victim names, names of friends, just any names, and work my way out from there." "I'm gonna spend a few hours today with Cyra guiding her through some exercises. Call me if you need anything." [[Let's get started|Central Hub]]

[[Hmmm, nothing noteworthy turns up.|Central Hub]] (if: $databaseResult is "pump" or "station x567" or "pump station")[(go-to: "Pump Station")] (if: $databaseResult is "alison brown" or "alison" or "brown")[(go-to: "Alison Brown")] (if: $databaseResult is "unseen" or "the unseen") [(go-to: "The Unseen")] (if: $databaseResult is "burger assault" or "bob sherman") [(go-to: "Burger Assault")] (if: $databaseResult is "calernia petroleum refinery" or "refinery" or "petroleum refinery") [(go-to: "Calernia Petroleum Refinery")] (if: $databaseResult is "space racer") [(go-to: "Space Racer")] (if: $databaseResult is "andrea linton" or "howard linton" or "linton") [(go-to: "The Lintons")] (if: $databaseResult is "tannersville") [(go-to: "Tannersville")] (if: $databaseResult is "mira monet" or "mira monet hotel" or "model united nations") [(go-to: "Mira Monet Hotel")] (if: $databaseResult is "mind kontrol") [(go-to: "MIND KONTROL")] (if: $databaseResult is "spaceman pizza") [(go-to: "Spaceman Pizza")] (if: $databaseResult is "miriam turner" or "the viewer" or "viewer") [(go-to: "The Viewer")] (if: $databaseResult is "swinehart court") [(go-to: "Swinehart Court")] (if: $databaseResult is "clayton rogers" or "rogers" or "clayton") [(go-to: "Clayton Rogers")] (if: $databaseResult is "myra cannon" or "myra" or "cannon") [(go-to: "Myra Cannon")] (if: $databaseResult is "mikayla thompson" or "mikayla" or "thompson") [(go-to: "Mikayla Thompson")] (if: $databaseResult is "nate" or "smith" or "nate smith") [(go-to: "Nate Smith")] (if: $databaseResult is "ed silverman" or "silverman" or "ed") [(go-to: "Ed Silverman")] (if: $databaseResult is "robert tesman" or "tesman") [(go-to: "Robert Tesman")] (if: $databaseResult is "three impostors" or "the three impostors") [(go-to: "Three Impostors")] (if: $databaseResult is "steve alvers" or "steve") [(go-to: "Steve Alvers")] (if: $databaseResult is "emily raines" or "emily" or "raines") [(go-to: "Emily Raines")] (if: $databaseResult is "pete mcelroy" or "mcelroy" or "peter mcelroy") [(go-to: "Pete McElroy")] (if: $databaseResult is "conrad hills") [(go-to: "Conrad Hills")] (if: $databaseResult is "lindsay mcmillan") [(go-to: "Lindsay McMillan")] (if: $databaseResult is "windemere") [(go-to: "Windemere")] (if: $databaseResult is "bob reid" or "bob" or "reid") [(go-to: "Bob Reid")] (if: $databaseResult is "bulger university") [(go-to: "Bulger University")] (if: $databaseResult is "ralston") [(go-to: "Ralston")] (if: $databaseResult is "pajamapants") [(go-to: "Pajamapants")] (if: $databaseResult is "mike turner") [(go-to: "Mike Turner")] (if: $databaseResult is "kristin" or "boyd" or "kristin boyd") [(go-to: "Kristin Boyd")] (if: $databaseResult is "jordan stark") [(go-to: "Jordan Stark")] (if: $databaseResult is "alyssa winder") [(go-to: "Alyssa Winder 2")]

[[Miriam Turner, 12/8/18]] [[Mikayla Thompson, 3/1/19]] [[Alison Brown, 4/21/19]] [[Julia Smith, 6/3/19]] [[Emily Raines, 6/29/19]] [[Janine Harris, 11/2/19]] [[Return|Central Hub]]

The "Calernia Burglar" is, the report claims, a man named John Bellows, a one time sex offender who had ransacked homes in the Calernia/Dunlop area between late 2015 to early 2018 ("Read on!", urges a note scribbled in on the side by Stanton. "Gets better!"). It is difficult to pinpoint the first Calernia Burglar incident, as the early crimes were inconsequential and even the later burglaries are only noteworthy in light of the attacks in 2018, at the tail end of Bellows's career. In the September of 2015, the police had received two calls in Calernia relating to a possible prowler. The first call had been made when a nine year old girl heard noises just outside her room while lying in bed reading a book. When she pulled back her window curtain, she noticed a man peeping at her in her flower bed. She screamed and the man took off in a hurry. The second call was from a middle aged housewife, not far from the first call. She had walked from her residence to the curb one evening in order to take out some trash when she noticed a man leaving her backyard. When the man realized that he'd been seen, he dashed off without a word. At the time, both calls were considered to be trivial enough not to warrant any more by their reporting officers than the bare minimum paperwork. Ironically, they were the two times the burglar would be seen most clearly, a fact that would become the subject of much contention in Bellows's trial. According to both witnesses, the prowler was a pale white man between 5'8 and 5'11 with green eyes, red hair, and a slender build. He'd dressed in unremarkable clothes; a striped sweater with brown loafers and a pair of light brown corduroy trousers in the first incident, and a black button-up shirt with a pair of navy blue slacks in the second. The area then proceeded to be stricken with a rash of burglaries. Neighbors reported week after week that someone had broken into their homes and ransacked the place, usually going through the dressers and the bathroom cabinets. These early incidents had been fairly rudimentary in terms of their forced entrance techniques; the burglar would hop a fence into the backyard then smash a window to let himself in. The fact that every incident seemed to occur while the home was vacant regardless of the time of day did strike the police as being notable. Did the burglar carefully case each home before moving in? Were the victims' schedules familiar to him somehow? If he had been casing, no neighbor ever noticed it. Aside from the two calls in the September of 2015, no one would ever again see the Calernia Burglar until the attack on the Lintons in 2018. After the twentieth or so incident, a pattern began to emerge. The burglaries appeared to be sexually motivated, as the burglar's primary interest seemed to be in going through the homes in search of underwears, birth control devices, sex toys, and other items of prurient interest. There was no apparent financial angle; no item of value was ever taken, nor did the burglar go out of his way to look for places where money might be kept. The forced entry tactics also grew in sophistication. Where once the burglar would simply smash a window open, later incursions would see him carefully breaking open small holes in order to unlatch windows and doors without making noise. He also steadily began to grow bolder. One incident saw him leave behind a message on a victim's bedroom wall, writing the word "SLUT" over her bed with a bottle of ketchup purloined from the kitchen. In another, he'd broken into a home where the 14 year old daughter was still in her room doing homework and chatting with her friends over the phone. He had not spent much time there but the police believed that he must have realized that the girl was there when he decided to make the break-in. The last incident before the murder of Alyssa Winder had been the most shocking and brazen. On January 11, 2018, the burglar broke into the home of Howard and Andrea Linton, a young couple in their mid-thirties who lived with their infant daughter in Swinehart Court, Calernia. At around 7:00 P.M., while Howard and Andrea were both still at work, the burglar broke into the home by hopping a fence then picking the door leading into the garage. He then walked upstairs to ransack the home. When Andrea, who'd noticed that the door leading into the garage from the backyard had been happened, asked if Howard was home, the burglar ran downstairs with a knife in hand and tackled her to the floor. He held the knife to her throat and told her that if she screamed, he would kill her and the baby. Terrified, she complied. The burglar, she later reported, was about 5'10 and medium in build. He was wearing a white clown costume mask that obscured his entire head and much of his eyes, blue denim jeans, a black sweatshirt, and a pair of black leather gloves. He pulled out lengths of rope and used them to tie the victim's hands and feet. Then, he put away the knife, pulled down his pants, and exposed himself. "Do you like that?" he asked. The victim reported that the attacker had sported a full erection. Scared beyond her wits, she froze up and did not respond. "Are you a whore? Do you like to suck cock? You like to suck cock don't you?" the attacker asked her. He began to masturbate while moving his penis closer and closer to her face. All the while he continued to grunt, occasionally calling her a "cunt", "slut", or a "fucking bitch". After a few minutes of this, he ejaculated all over the victim's face. He then hurried over to the kitchen, grabbed some paper towels, and wiped his semen off of her completely. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll come back and fucking cut you. I'll cut your fucking tits off. I'll rape you until you fucking bleed," he said. He then gagged her with rope and left the house where the victim sat in perfect silence until her husband came home to find her tied up. He untied her, then called the police. At the time, it hadn't been clear that the attacker had, in fact, been the Calernia Burglar. For one, the burglar had never made any attempt at directly attacking anyone; indeed, the few times he came close to being seen, he fled rather than run the risk. But the clown mask suggested very strongly that he'd come prepared to assault the victim. The crime scene turned up only one piece of physical evidence: A size 10.5 bootprint on the kitchen floor. The bootprint was later found to come from generic brand name boots, widely used by workmen all over the country. The Linton attack resulted in a firestorm of outrage culminating in a town hall forum at which the residents resolved to take matters into their own hands and patrol the neighborhoods for prowlers and suspicious individuals. In order to prevent vigilante posses from forming, the patrollers were advised not to travel in groups larger than three. The searches turned up nothing, however. The handful of times the patrollers found someone suspicious were quickly ruled out upon closer examination by the police and gradually, the furor began to dwindle down. Some time went by without a single Calernia Burglar incident. On March 5, 2019 however, the police received a call from the a park ranger near Lake Soleno camping grounds reporting that they'd discovered a body. Alyssa Winder, a 20 year old student at Davis Valley College, was found stripped nude and had been manually strangled. Forensics discovered damage inside the vaginal cavity consistent with sexual assault, although without any semen present. The site of Winder's murder was routinely patrolled by the rangers, as it was a popular place for teenagers engaging in drug use, drinking, and skinny dipping. Winder's friends would later report that she liked to go there often, especially in times of stress or trouble to "wind down" and forget things in relative isolation. The time of death was estimated to have been no more than an hour before the body's discovery - some time between 8:00 P.M. to 9:00 P.M. that night - and a survey of her friends and family revealed that, in all likelihood, no one else had accompanied her. In the absence of a strong forensics evidence or an eyewitness, the case threatened to turn cold before it could even be investigated in earnest. A lifeline came three days in, however, when the forensics lab confirmed that a few strands of pubic hair recovered near the victim had been traced to John Bellows, a registered sex offender living in Dunlop. Bellows's home was searched the next day, which was followed by a questioning back at the police station. Bellows was unable to give a sound alibi for his whereabouts on the night of Winder's death, but that wasn't the most significant development; a clown mask roughly matching the description given by Andrea Linton was found in Bellows's garage. Bellows was arrested and charged with both the Winder murder and of being the Calernia Burglar. On the stand, Bellows explained the presence of his pubic hair at the lake by claiming that he had visited the site a day earlier in order to strip naked and masturbate. He claimed that he was an exhibitionist and that as part of his attempt not to reoffend, he was seeking out secluded areas where he could live out his fantasies without exposing himself to anyone. The exhibitionist part, at least, was corroborated by the records of his past convictions. Bellows had also been arrested for inappropriate sexual contact with a minor when he was 19 years old. The police wanted to follow up on one more lead before taking Bellows to court: Winders's ex-boyfriend, Clayton Rogers, at the time an employee at the Calernia Petroleum Refinery. Rogers had a single offense for assault and battery resulting from a bar fight he'd been involved in while in college. He had also been examined by a psychiatrist for potential anger issues but beyond that, his record was clean. The initial suspicion around him was rooted in his reluctance to provide an alibi, even under intense interrogation. It was only under advice from his attorney and the threat of being officially charged that he provided his whereabouts: He had, for a few years, been the member of "The Piglet Society", a sexual fetish club catering to young people who enjoyed engaging in paraphilias while dressed in crude pig costumes, of which Rogers was a frequent attendant. Although the members were masked and anonymous, he claimed that a friend had been present at the gathering with him at the time of the murder and that he, along with the club's organizers, would vouch for his presence. They did, and so he was cleared by way of a foolproof alibi. During the trial, the defense made much of the fact that Rogers, as a white man with long, reddish hair, fit the earlier description of the Calernia Burglar much more than Bellows - who was a darker skinned man with dark hair - did. They were not, however, able to explain the discrepancy in build - Rogers being a much more muscular man than the burglar - nor the seemingly ironclad alibi. Andrea Linton also testified that she believed the clown mask found in Bellows's possession to be the very same worn by her attacker, although the defense pointed out that the mask was a fairly generic one sold by many costume stores around the country. Bellows, for his part, never stopped maintaining that the mask was from a costume party held years earlier, and that he hadn't touched it since. Bellows was convicted for not only the Linton attack but for every crime heretofore attributed to the Calernia Burglar. He was sentenced to life with no chance of parole. As far as the law was concerned, this marked the end of the Calernia Burglar. (set: $refineryvalue to $refineryvalue +1) .... Everything that follows is conjecture from Stanton. First, Stanton believes strongly that the police got the wrong man and that John Bellows is not the Calernia Burglar. Moreover, he believes that the Calernia Burglar and the Bay Side Killer are indeed the one and the same and that Alyssa Winder, not Miriam Turner, is the first Bay Side Killer slaying. Second, he believes that the otherwise flawless killer has left himself vulnerable to one significant weakness: He only preys on victims who are personally known to him. As the burglar, he was content to victimize strangers but as a killer, he is only capable of attacking non-strangers. Not anyone too close; he's far too clever to do anything as obvious as target ex-girlfriends. But the amount of ties between the victims, starting with their place of education, cannot be a coincidence. The killer is someone on the periphery of the victims' lives, someone that's there and watching but just barely out of the investigation's reach. He also takes note of the killer's patterns; as the Calernia Burglar, he limited his activities to a single town. As the BSK, he gained a level of frightening mobility that he hasn't displayed before. He implores anyone reading these notes to take these things into consideration as they go about their own research. (set: $burglarinstinct to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

There is mild contention about who ought to be considered the first "canonical" Bay Side Killer victim, but the death of Miriam Turner in late 2018 is chronologically the first killing that most observers attribute to the "Bay Side Killer". A 22-year-old recent graduate and a journalist for the popular online tech gossip site "Viewer", she'd lived in an apartment in Winslow Creek, a small well-to-do city in the South Bay Area roughly 16 miles inland from Ralston. She was a brunette with a long nose that her friends confessed that she'd always been somewhat self-conscious about. She was a tall woman, standing around 5'7, and was of a slim build. Turner had spent the last evening of her life at a tech journalist's conference held in Ralston, where she'd spent the day socializing and networking with other industry professionals before heading back home at around 10:00 P.M., declining an invitation by her co-workers and friends to join them back at their hotel suite for a party. She'd arrived home by 10:20, washed off her make-up, chatted with her roommate, then gone to bed just after midnight. The killer broke in around 2:00 A.M., waking up the roommate in the process. Later investigation found that he'd forced the entry by breaking a small hole on the window by the front door then sneaking in a small tool to unlatch it. The apartment had had two bedrooms and the killer had fortuitously elected to target Turner's roommate first, just as she was beginning to consider getting out of bed to investigate the noise. She heard her door creak open, and initially believing that Miriam had broken something and needed help, she rolled around and began to get up, only to be pushed back into her bed by a black-clad man wearing a balaclava. He pressed her down on to the mattress, planted a knee firmly into her chest, put his gloved hand over her mouth, then waved a knife in her face with his free hand. "Shut up. Shut the fuck up. If you scream, I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll slit your fucking throat," he whispered. Terrified, she complied perfectly without so much as a whimper. He put away the knife then pulled out a roll of duct tape, wrapping it around her head three or four times to keep her silent. He then flipped her around and tied her hands and feet with lengths of rope. Her right hand was twisted behind her back then tied to her right foot with a diamond knot; the same was done to her left hand and left foot. Satisfied that the roommate was fully dealt with, the killer moved into Turner's room. Turner's roommate would spend about an hour or so tied up, later telling the police that she could hear some of the sexual assault as it happened, but that she had not realized that a murder had taken place as well. She never heard the killer leave, but after a few hours, she was able to loosen the tape silencing her enough to scream repeatedly for help, which had caused a neighbor to call the police. The cause of death was strangulation by ligature. A forensic examination revealed that the rope used to strangle Turner was the same kind that had been used to bind her roommate and Turner's wrists. Beyond that however, no other physical evidence could be located. The killer had taken great care not to leave behind any fingerprints or hair strands, and had either failed to ejaculate or used a condom during the assault. The late hour of the attack also meant that no one had seen him either enter or leave the premises. Nevertheless, the detectives canvassed the area and asked the neighbors if they had seen anything or anyone noteworthy in the days leading up to the murder. Remarkably, no one had. The fact that the attacker had not been seen around the apartment complex before the attack, and that he'd shown little interest in the roommate beyond tying her up, suggested that the killer may have known the victim beforehand. Nevertheless, in the absence of a compelling lead, the case began to go cold, and the investigators were left to move on until a second attack raised the possibility that a serial killer was at large. (set:$miriamclue to 1) [[Return|Start with the victims]]

The Bay Side Killer struck again less than four months after the first attack. The second victim was Mikayla Thompson, a 24 year old librarian and a part-time singer for the local indie rock group "Pajamapants". The attack occurred at 3:00 A.M., with the killer breaking in by cutting a small hole in the window leading into the living room of the house. There had been two housemates this time and the killer had brought a gun to compensate. He snuck into the room, then woke up the female housemate first, putting his hand over her mouth and pressing the tip of his gun into her forehead. "Shut up. Keep your mouth shut or I'll kill you. I'll kill you if you scream," he said. The woman complied, allowing herself to be silenced with duct tape and tied up without making a single sound. Her boyfriend, who'd been sound asleep next to her as this happened, was awakened next, then threatened, gagged, and tied in the same way. The killer then moved into the victim's room, where he tied her up and assaulted her repeatedly for hours before strangling her to death around five. The housemates were rescued by the woman's cousin, who'd dropped in early in the morning to drive them out together for a snowboarding trip. When there had been no answers at the door or the phone, the police were called. The housemates this time had had better recollection of their attacker than Miriam Turner's roommate, who could recall nothing more substantial than that he'd worn black. The killer was described as a male, somewhere between 5'8 and 5'11, most likely white with green eyes, and had had a slender build. He'd worn a red tracksuit with white stripes on the sleeves and a pair of denim jeans. His face was masked by a black ski mask that revealed only his eyes and he'd worn a pair of leather gloves. The weapon was described as some sort of semi-automatic with a suppressor, perhaps a 1911 variant, although neither could make out a specific model. It didn't take much for the investigators to conclude that the attacker was the same that had assaulted and murdered Miriam Turner. Both attacks had occurred late at night. Both attacks saw the attacker subduing the roommates first before moving on to the victim, leaving the roommates unharmed. Both attacks began with sexual assault before escalating to murder by ligature-aided strangulation. Even the type of rope used in the binding and the type of knot - a diamond knot - had been the same. The investigators leaving the scene, and their superiors later, no-commented all questions by the media regarding a potential serial killer. As with the previous attack, the neighbors had been less than helpful. A couple living next door did, however, find a bike on a long corridor behind the row of homes that was in the process of being converted to a rail trail. When the police found themselves unable to locate an owner, they surmised that the bike had most likely belonged to the killer himself then abandoned as he'd left. Later, they found out that there had been a report of two deputies in the nearby Combesville area of a man fitting the killer's description in a ski mask on the bike riding down the rail trail. The deputies attempted to pursue the man but lost sight of him. A bloodhound was brought in to track the scent from the bike, confirming that the killer had rode in from the direction of Combesville on his bike, parked the bike in a blind spot by a tree behind a neighbor's backyard about a block away, walked back to his victim's home, then carried out the attack. Why he'd abandoned the bike afterwards remained unclear until the neighbor revealed that he'd been striken with insomnia that night and had stepped out into his backyard to have a cigarette and listen to some music with the lights on. The bloodhound went further; after abandoning his bicycle, he walked by foot nearly two hours back to Combesville where he'd stopped at an elementary school at the corner of Crowning and Thornton, yet another blindspot where he could park undetected by the neighbors. A police canvass revealed that neither the children nor the parents nor the faculty had any memory of a car being parked in that spot. The evening joggers and strollers also could not remember anything which, along with the police sighting placing him around the area at around half past midnight, suggested that the killer had arrived rather late. The ease with which the bike was abandoned also very strongly suggested that the bike was likely to have been stolen. Moreso than the Turner killing, which would seem somewhat unusual in hindsight in many regards, this was the attack that would set the blueprint for all subsequent BSK slayings. From this point on, he would always arrive with a firearm regardless of the number of housemates. He would continue to make tactical use of geography, using blindspots to conceal his arrival while taking advantage of narrow walkways that would connect the community where he'd parked with the victim's residence. The investigation turned up an interesting link between the two victims: They'd both been students at the Bulger University in Ralston, albeit with two years between them. The police by now gave serious weight to the notion that the killer had known both victims. Neither victim had boyfriends at the time of their deaths however, and none of the friends interviewed could remember any clingers or creepy ex's. If the killer had been someone known to the victims, the connection was most likely a marginal one, unlikely to stick to the memory. (set: $mikaylaclue to 1) [[Return|Start with the victims]]

With the death of Alison Brown, any doubt that a serial killer was at large was dispelled and a media circus began. A 21 year old brunette, Brown was, unlike the previous two victims, a current student rather than a recent graduate. Also unlike the previous two victims, she'd lived at home with her parents in Lansington, a small suburb of Ralston only 15 minutes by car from the university. The attack occurred at 3:00 A.M. Brown's mother woke up in the middle of the night with a man pressing down on her with his knee. When she opened her eyes, she saw a masked face and a gun pointed in her face. "Keep your mouth shut. Don't scream. If you scream, I'll kill you. All I want is the money," he said. He handed her a roll of duct tape and ordered her to wrap it around her head over the mouth five or six times. He then took out strips of rope and bound her hands and feet the same way he'd done in the previous two murders. Having finished, he headed downstairs - the couple slept in separate bedrooms - and did the same to the father. Perhaps feeling that a bit more show of force might be necessary to control a grown man, the killer pistol whipped Mr. Brown across the face twice and kicked him repeatedly before gagging him with the duct tape and binding him. With the parents thus controlled, he moved in to bind, rape, and murder his victim. At around 5:30 A.M., the father was finally able to loosen his tie enough to get himself free and call the police. He chose to hide in his room after having done this, as the killer had made no sound as he left, and Mr. Brown feared that he would murder the whole family if he'd realized what had happened. The killer broke in by hopping a fence into the backyard then breaking a small hole in the sliding glass window near the latch, and the physical description of the man matched the description given by Mikayla Thompson's housemates. Once again, there had been no witnesses, although a canvas revealed that some of the dogs in the neighborhood had been barking more frequently in the evenings. More crucially, forensics had been able to identify a salient piece of physical evidence: Footprints the killer had left when he'd stepped into the garden dirt after hopping the fence. A lab analysis revealed that the footprints came from a pair of men's size 10.5 Faulkner waterproof steel-toed boots. This would become critical later but at the time of the initial inquiry, the most significant aspect of the bootprints was that they provided the investigators with a scent article that could be used to perform a bloodhound track. The bloodhounds confirmed what the police had suspected; the killer had made use of a large woodland separating Woodborough, the street where he'd strike, from Kensington, the street where he'd parked. He'd located a narrow entrance into the clearing between two houses on the intersection of Kensington and Claremont, then followed a canal all the way out to Woodborough, before sneaking around the back. As had been the case with the second attack, he'd chosen to make use of a blindspot where the clearing edged up against a local high school to park his car. For the most part, the strategy had been successful; nobody had remembered any suspicious vehicle in the spot where the bloodhound had lost scent save for a single teacher, who remembered an old yellow truck. Alarmingly, the teacher also remembered that the truck had been seen in that spot on and off for a few months leading up to the attack although she hadn't thought much of it at the time. Had the killer stalked the victim for months in preparation? And had he done the same to the other victims? Another aspect of the killer's route had caught the detectives' attention. Much of the wooded area running alongside the canal led back to Station X567, a discontinued pump station. Because the wooded area surrounding the station is considered to be off-limits, it is completely unobserved at night and thus perfect for anyone wishing to disappear from sight after stalking the home on Woodborough. Yet there is no signage mentioning this and no reason to assume that this particular route, aside from being a wooded area, would provide the level of cover the killer would have needed. The investigators began to consider the possibility that the killer would have been someone already familiar with the layout of the area and the presence of the pump station in particular. The station was unmanned and sporadically visited by municipal workers from time to time even after its discontinuation but because this had been far too large a number of people across far too broad a time period, it was discounted as a lead. The local media ran wild with the story, giving the attacker his "Bay Side Killer" moniker and cautioning all homes with young women in them to keep their doors shut tight. The story hadn't been a full-on circus by then but the detectives sensed that this was coming and could feel the clock running against them. None of the three attacks had been random and they hadn't been the frenzied acts of a disorganized offender either. The Bay Side Killer was an intelligent predator who carefully planned his approach, possibly for up to months ahead of time, taking great care not to be seen and not to leave behind evidence. The only solace, if it could be called that, was the detectives' suspicion that the victims had most likely all been known to the killer and that there was something linking all of the attacks that they hadn't figured out yet. But given how little time had passed between the killings, they started to dread that they would never be able to identify this gossamer-thin connective through-line before the next attack. About a week after the attack however, the investigators received one more good news from forensics analysis. The steel-toed boots worn by the killer were, it turned out, rare items. They were originally designed for use by the navy only before only recently becoming available to civilians through military surplus stores. This raised the possibility that the killer had either been in the military or that he was close to someone who had been. (set: $alisonclue to 1) [[Return|Start with the victims]]

The fourth victim came less than two months after the third, sparking off a wave of panic in the community that hampered the investigation, and made progress far more difficult. Julia Smith was 19 and the youngest victim yet. Like the previous victims, Smith was a student at Bulger University. By this point, however, the university lead was considered to be exhausted. Convinced that either a male student or a faculty member had been involved, the police had spent virtually all their time and manpower on canvassing the campus and questioning every single male student, faculty member, or employee that came even close to potentially fitting the bill. After nearly thousands of hours of man-hours however, all they had to show for it was dozens of wasted leads and no progress. A few things stood out about Smith. Like Alison Brown, she was a current student rather than a graduate and had studied psychology. Like Brown, she was a popular girl with an active social life and was a visible and prominent member of various cliques and activities throughout campus. Also like Brown, she lived with her parents at home and drove out to campus from the suburb of Jarryville. On the night of the attack, Smith had been home alone. Her parents had to drive two hours to visit a gravely ill cousin and Julia was forced to remain at home by a leg injury sustained during a snowboarding trip that had rendered her bedridden for days. The drive had been complicated by a large traffic jam generated by the shooting of "The Unseen", a popular television program that had shut down two major thoroughfares to film a climactic chase sequence, and the parents would not come home to find their daughter's body until the next day. The killer snuck in at around 1:00 A.M., roughly three hours after Mr. and Mrs. Smith had left. Unlike the other victims, Julia had been awake and up in her room when the attacker entered. She'd been texting Elena, a friend from school, about some class assignments she'd missed when the killer presumably entered. The very last text she'd sent to Elena before she went silent puts the time of the attack at about 1:04 A.M. This is also consistent with a brief scream heard by a neighbor around this time, which was quickly muffled. The same neighbor reported hearing no other noise for the rest of the night from then on. The Smiths came home to find their daughter on her bed, stripped naked, and strangled. They called the police. The forced entry had occurred through the backyard, with the killer once again hopping a fence and breaking in by cutting open a hole in the slider door window. The investigators suspected that he'd likely parked his vehicle - either a car or a bicycle - in the blindspot on the street behind the victim's house. A canine unit confirmed this suspicion, then tracked the killer's scent to the Trident Trail, a rough bike trail adjacent to the main street that connected into the victim's community by way of a rough hiking trail. The location of the attack struck the investigators as interesting. The first three kills had largely occurred in a tight 10 mile radius in the Bristol/Clinton Hill area, 15 to 16 miles away from Ralston. Jarryville, meanwhile, was located nearly 40 miles further south. This raised the possibility that the killer was moving with his job, perhaps as a workman of some sort, a possibility that grew stronger when they realized that the trail he'd used to reach the victim's home from the thoroughfare went past a power station, only a brief distance away from the home itself. This marked the second time the killer made use of his knowledge of local infrastructure units in order to approach a victim without risking witnesses. The local news media found itself unable to discuss the Smith murder while "#BaySideKiller" turned into a nationwide social media trend. For some time, the police debated releasing one of the few identifying markers they had - the fact that the killer drove a yellow truck - to the public before deciding against it, fearing that the description of such a car was generic enough to intensify the public hysteria. In the weeks to come, the public deluged the police with false confessions, anonymous tips that went nowhere, and patently ridiculous tips of the "pretty sure my stepdad is the Bay Side Killer" variety; worthless detritus that nonetheless required man-hours to sift through. (set: $juliaclue to 1) [[Return|Start with the victims]]

The Raines murder followed hot on the heels of the Brown killing. Taking place less than a month after the previous attack, there were concerns that the killer was ramping up his violence, perhaps emboldened by the sheer lack of progress in the police investigation. Aside from the brief time passed, one other aspect of the attack was unique: It was the first time the Bay Side Killer had struck while the victims were still up. Emily Raines was a 20 year old Bulger University student who lived in Winslow Creek - the site of the first BSK murder - with three housemates, one of whom was away on vacation. The house was single story and Raines slept in her room while her two housemates sat and watched television in the living room. All three were deeply concerned about the Bay Side Killer and promised to take turns sleeping in shifts to avoid a possible surprise attack. The killer snuck in at around 1:30 A.M., through the backyard as usual, then dashed into the living room and subdued one of the housemates by knocking her unconscious with a flashlight, giving her only a brief time to let out a short scream. The other housemate, who'd fallen asleep on the couch, started to awaken but was also knocked unconscious. Fortunately, both housemates survived the attack with minimal injury. The housemate who'd been attacked first reported that the killer had been wearing a black ski mask and a black shirt. She also claimed that the man had been nude from the waist down. The investigation later discovered that the killer had opted to sneak in by cracking the glass on the kitchen window, then sliding it open, an act that would have taken great athleticism. The much more accessible back yard window was left untouched, as it was too visible from the living room. The police learned that one of the roommates had briefly been part of the same snowboarding circle as a roommate of Mikayla Thompson, as well as Julia Smith, creating a potential lead. None of the snowboarders, however, panned out as potential suspects, nearly all of them successfully acquitting themselves under interrogation. (set: $emilyclue to 1) [[Return|Start with the victims]]

Janine Harris is the latest victim of the Bay Side Killer. Uniquely of the BSK victims, she was not and had never been a Bulger University student. She worked nights as a waitress at the Three Impostors, a bar, and during the day she attended classes at the local community college, working towards an associate degree in nursing. Janine lived in a small, single-story home with a housemate, who was the bar's manager. The housemate was away for the evening at a friend's, leaving her alone. The exact time of the attack is difficult to establish, with forensics only establishing that she'd been attacked and killed some time between one and two that morning. Otherwise, the attack featured all the hallmarks of the BSK's modus operandi: The killer had kept himself unseen by taking advantage of a hiking trail behind the house, used a blind spot in the open area in order to conceal himself, snuck in through the window, and placed a large distance between the target and the parking spot. The Harris murder was unique in that, unlike the other killings, there had been a suspect straight away: Mike Turner, the brother of Miriam Turner, and a known ex-boyfriend of Janine. The police had known about Turner since the killings began, and had considered him to be an early suspect. He had briefly dated Janine in 2016 but the relationship ended due to personal differences. Afterward, the stalking began; Turner started leaving her unwanted messages on her phone and would show up randomly at her house uninvited. When he ignored repeated requests to stop, she contacted the police, and filed a restraining order. Beyond this however, he had no known record of criminal behavior. Turner provided a shaky alibi: At the time of the murder, he was at a concert at a small local venue with some of his friends. After the show, there was a party hosted by one of the bands at which local musicians and fans gathered. Turner initially claimed to have been there the entire night but then confessed that he'd left the party around midnight, hoping to score some weed from his dealer. When this failed, he drove back to the party at around 1:15. Due to the level of inebriation at said party and the fact that most attendees did not intimately know everyone present, it was difficult to confirm Turner's story which, even if true, would not have constituted a strong alibi given Harris's time of death. The two friends Turner had attended the party with, Pete McElroy and Jordan Stark, were unable to account for him. McElroy, who first met Turner and his sister while employed at the Calernia Petroleum Refinery, had left the party around the time that Turner would have returned while Stark had been so drunk that he simply had not noticed anyone coming or going. Moreover, a friend had testified that Mike had frightened his sister, and that she'd lived in terror of him. The distance between the party and the victim's home was about 12 miles away, roughly enough time to allow for Turner to leave, kill, then return without anyone realizing it. On the other hand, there was also the possibility that his initial lack of forthcoming regarding his whereabouts had more to do with not wishing to confess to illegally purchasing drugs than anything else. (set: $refineryvalue to $refineryvalue +1) Despite a promising start, the police dropped Turner as a suspect altogether when he was conclusively alibied for one of the deaths. On the night of the Alison Brown murder, multiple people had seen him at a barcade, drinking and playing games with friends. With Turner dropped, the remaining leads went cold and died in short order. (set: $janineclue to 1) [[Return|Start with the victims]]

LANSINGTON LIVING 3/4/17 The Lansington City Council would like to thank everyone in advance for their patience as workers from the nearby Calernia Petroleum Refinery come to help decommission the pump station near William F. Percy High School. The process is expected to cause noise between 2:00 P.M. to 8:00 P.M. and the usual walkways leading into the wooded clearing will be closed off for the duration of the work period. The refinery has assured us that the interruption to both the school day and the daily schedules of our residents will be minimal and that one day should be more than enough to conclude their business. Once again, we apologize for any discomfort and thank all residents in advance. - William Hartley, Senior Alderman (set: $refineryvalue to $refineryvalue +1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

//In addition to an obituary in the local paper, the Bulger University school newspaper has written something about her.// STUDENT MURDER SHOCKS CAMPUS By Scott Franklin The recent sexual assault and murder of undergraduate student Alison Brown has sent a ripple throughout the student body. "She was such a wonderful person and definitely one of my closest friends. We're all going to miss her so much," said Janessa Denver, communications student. The murder is believed to have been perpetrated by the "Bay Side Killer", a serial killer connected to two previous killings in the bay. All three victims were or had been Bulger students. "Everybody is freaking out and nobody knows what to do," said Janet Winslow, a gender studies student, "The Women's Empowerment Council is handing out guides on self-defense and home protection measures to anyone who wants them. If we're going to get through this, we need to stand firm and not let panic cloud our judgement." Alison is fondly remembered by her many friends and professors as having been a warm, gentle soul. In addition to studying psychology, she was an active member of Circle Nine International, the Nilian Culture Club, and the Bulger University Model United Nations. On the day of her murder, she was a delegate at an MUN conference held at the Mira Monet Hotel in downtown Ralston where she represented Bulger before 15 of the nation's most prestigious universities. In addition to funeral services, Women's Empowerment Council will be holding an open memorial in the courtyard today. [[Return|Central Hub]] (set: $hotelclue to 1) (set: $progress to $progress +1)

The Unseen (stylized often as THE UNS33N) is a science fiction television series about a group of hackers who have disintegrated their physical forms to become beings of pure data for the purpose of battling what they view as a tyrannical society.... //Hmm, that's fascinating but also entirely useless.// "THE UNSEEN SHOOTING EXPECTED TO BRING JOBS" By Henry Andrews The TV sensation "The Unseen" is bringing its production to the Bay for the shooting of its fifth season. The locals are tentatively excited about the prospect. "I understand it'll bring jobs but honestly, I can't say I'm excited about the traffic issues," says bartender Jim Cavanaugh. The shoot is expected to bring roughly $20 million into the city in addition creating thousands of jobs. "It's a boon for local business," says Bob Sherman, proprietor of the local catering business 'Burger Assault', "We have a catering contract and so do a lot of other businesses. And they tell me that's just the tip of the cieberg." Showrunners Stephen Morley and Devin James are locals and felt that the unique geography of the area was necessary as the story nears its conclusion. "We had a very unique experience shooting here way back in season 2. It absolutely made us come back," said Morley, "Plus, obviously, the food is great and the locals are amazing." Season 5 is set to premiere in April 2020. (set: $burgervalue to $burgervalue +1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

//February 5, 2017 It's happened again and, yes, it was exactly as weird and terrifying as it was last time. Doctor Miller says that it's called "shifting" and that it's a fairly benign condition that I shouldn't worry about but if I don't get rid of it, I'm definitely disqualified from making full ghostfinder (Not to mention.... What happens if it ever goes down while I'm driving?! Doctors are so useless sometimes). Miller thought it might help me to keep a journal with all these things in them so, here we are. My first ever incident was on January 3. I obviously wasn't keeping a journal then but that was the first time it happened so I'll recount it here. I was at the grocery store just outside where I live, by Walton and Ingram. I was in the cereal aisle picking out something for breakfast (yes, I still like breakfast cereal. Don't judge me.). One moment I was fine and then I.... I don't know how to say it. If you've ever taken hypnotics to help you sleep, it was like that moment just before your mind goes blank. You're there, you go all numb, then you're not. You're somewhere else. I was at a shooting range and I was a woman. Young, I think, about the same age as me give or take a few years. There was an older man standing next to her, maybe her father I thought. She took aim with her gun then fired off a few shots, all pretty accurate. I heard the man say "wow", then I started fading again. And then I was back in the grocery store. The one that happened today, on February 5.... Let's see. I was at a bowling alley and I think it might have been someone's birthday party. That stupid "On a Roll" song was playing and then it was over. I was sitting in my room and I thought I recognized the alley (it's right down the street, maybe five minutes away by car). Probably nothing important.// (set: $febshift to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

"Burger Assault" is a popular hamburger based catering business that operates in the vicinity of Ralston. Their website promises "exciting flavors" that "push the boundaries" of what a burger can be. They seem to be highly rated and popular. The website also informs you that they are currently catering the on-going "The Unseen" shoot in the area in addition to numerous other contracts. It's a longshot but you figure it's probably better to cover your bases. You make a mental note to pay Burger Assault a visit. [[Return|Central Hub]] (set: $burger to 1) (set: $progress to $progress +1)

//March 18, 2017. Happened again! Was suddenly in the mood for some crispy shrimp sandwich from the place on Kenn, shifted as soon as I set foot back in my apartment. Was a man this time, probably a young guy in his twenties, sitting in a truck and chatting a bit with the driver. Conversation, to the best of my memory: Me (?): "So Nate told me he might take this catering job, I don't know if you wanted to go for it." Driver: "Are you?" Me: "I might man, it sounds pretty nice. Getting fucking tired of the refinery." The driver was a white male in his mid-twenties, long reddish hair with a thick beard wearing a white t-shirt. On the muscular side.// (set: $marchshift to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

//August 8, 2017 Argh! Another one! This is gonna sound weird but I actually think I'm starting to get used to these. I mean, yeah, I want them to go away, I do. But they're also kind of weirdly relaxing in a way. Although, I guess I could be violating these people's privacies huh? Gonna stop thinking about it now, I really don't need to be any more anxious and neurotic about all this. Anyway, here's what happened: I was over at Dunlop for some vehicle registration thing (so boring). It happened on the way BACK, as I was getting in my car. I was a man, again, felt pretty young (wonder if I'll ever shift into an older person?). I was walking past this row of big, round tanks and towards this.... Absolute mess of pipes and stairs, like someone built a gigantic jungle gym out of nothing but industrial pipes with some light accommodation for human movement. Then I was back. Looking back, I'm pretty sure that the person was working at that petroleum refinery in Calernia, which is pretty close by, so I went on the Internet and just looked up everything I could about refineries (don't ask why, I know it's weird). I'm pretty sure the big row of tanks I saw was a 'desalter'. I don't know when I'm ever gonna need to know that.// (set: $refineryshift to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]] (set: $refineryvalue to $refineryvalue +1)

The Calernia Petroleum Refinery is the largest business in the once-struggling industrial town and the primary employer. It refines petroleum and sits on the very edge of Calernia. The work is considered to be fairly well paying, if demanding. [[Return|Central Hub]]

//October 21, 2017 Happened again. I wasn't driving at the time, but I was in the car and I'd been driving a few minutes just before which fucking worries me. I was a man in what I think was a sporting goods store of some kind. He was trying on some snowboarding boots. A female employee comes up to him and asks him, "What size were you again?". He tells her that he wears size 10.5. Bam. Back to the real world.// (set: $snowboarding to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

//December 14, 2017 Happy holiday season I guess. I'm not feeling it. Shade School almost makes me miss normal people school, especially with my field training coming up. I swear to god if my field instructor turns out to be some jerk with a stick up his ass I'm gonna strangle somebody. But this ain't my diary so I should probably get to the point. I was in Calernia where there's some weird perv running around burglarizing houses apparently. I was a woman and I was jogging around the neighborhood. Jogged past this beat-up old yellow truck. I was listening to music, some stupid pop radio stuff I didn't recognize. Then I "woke up". I haven't gotten to the good part yet though: I literally had just walked through that exact block about ten minutes earlier. Holy crap! It's the hiking trail right behind Swinehart Court, leading in from the thoroughfare. I actually thought about going back and seeing if I could find my "shiftee" but I decided that that would be way too creepy, as if this shifting thing isn't creepy enough already. I wonder if shifting is related to being in proximity to certain types of people, somehow, like you have to be in a certain radius of someone to shift. Not sure if this helps me at all but it's interesting to think about.// (set: $jogging to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

//January 11, 2018 Creepiest one yet. Still have no idea what to make of it. I was a man and I'm pretty sure I was wearing a mask of some sort. I was in a baby's room, looking over the cradle where she (he? they?) was sleeping. He (I?) reached out with his hand and caressed the baby's face for a bit. Then there was a voice from downstairs, a woman's voice. She asked, "Howard? Are you there?". Then it was over. I don't know. Even leaving aside the mask thing, there was something that just felt off. Especially the way he touched that baby. I thought about calling the cops before I realized that I had no idea what the hell I would even tell them. I just hope everything was okay.// (set: $creepyguy to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

//February 2, 2018 This one is.... Kind of weird. I'm not really sure what to make of it. I'm a man, probably no older than 30. I'm on all fours and I think I'm in a costume? I'm in a house, and I'm surrounded by all these other men who are naked except for diapers and they're all wearing these cartoon pig masks. Everybody is oinking really loudly including my "shiftee". Then I woke up. This is probably just some weird sex fetish thing. Eugh. I was at home when this one happened so I know I live somewhere weird.// (set: $pigsex to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

//March 4, 2018 Finally, a nice, normal one. I'm at this arcade looking place, pretty sure it's one of those "barcades" downtown in Ralston (I was at Ralston when this one happened). I'm a guy and I'm watching my friends play this arcade game. I don't really know what's happening but the game is called "Space Racer" and apparently, he's doing pretty good because everybody's cheering him on. A guy comes up to me with this young woman who I think is his girlfriend. He says "Hey, I think we're gonna go". Then it ends. I'm 99% sure that I recognize that guy. I think it's the big, bearded guy I saw in the March 18 vision. Not sure what to do with that information but it's interesting, I guess.// (set: $barcadegame to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

Space Racer (stylized SPACE RACER) was an arcade racing game released in 1990. Considered unusually ambitious for its time in both gameplay and graphics, it sold minimally and was recalled twice only to be rediscovered years later by enthusiasts. Today, it is considered to be a rare and much sought-after item with legions of fans all over the world. //That's interesting. You try to see if you can look up anything online about local arcades and barcades that feature SPACE RACER. Two names come up:// MIND KONTROL - A popular local barcade aimed at nostalgic hipsters. Spaceman Pizza - A barcade/pizza joint with a slightly less hipster-y image. More of an open hangout for anyone with nostalgia, even the uncool. Doubles as a venue for local concerts and events. [[Return|Central Hub]]

Andrea Linton, the Calernia Burglar's - and possibly BSK's - first notable victim. You make a mental note to pay her a visit. [[Return|Central Hub]] (set: $progress to $progress +1) (set: $Linton to 1)

//July 7, 2018 I was coming back from Shade School, stopped to get some cigarettes. The shift hit me just as I was about to step out of my car. I was a man again, and I was at a grocery store shopping. I put some broccoli in my cart then I came back. I recognized this particular grocery store. It's a place specializing in vegan products. I went over once or twice with a friend from Shade School last year. Nothing good - I mean, it's vegan - but hey.// (set: $veganstuff to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

//September 15, 2018 These really need to stop. They're getting weird, I have constant anxiety about them, and it's just.... I can't take them anymore. I was all the way out in Tannersville when this one happened. I was at a bookstore looking for something because I didn't want to wait three to four business days after ordering it online. I was right between self-help and romance. I was a guy. I was kneeling at this bike rack and I was picking the bike lock. That was it. That was all I saw. Some guy stealing a bike. That's what my life is now. I watch people steal bikes in Tannersville and do weird fetish stuff.// (set: $biketheft to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

Tannersville Daily had an article that caught your interest. STRING OF THEFTS CONCERN TANNERSVILLE RESIDENTS. 9/17/18 By Daniel Woodsman A recent spate of unsolved thefts have left the residents of Tannersville flummoxed. "It's just crazy. The cops obviously don't give a shit so at this point I'm just screaming into the fucking void," said long-time resident Kevin Miner. According to the police, there is no reason to believe that the robberies are connected. "They've mostly been small, petty items. They'll take a frying pan or something weird like that," said police officer Darren Stokes, "Occasionally there might also be some money gone but it's always some tiny negligible amount." Nevertheless, residents remain concerned that the break-ins may escalate to something more serious. "Some kid took my fucking bike," said resident Alan Knowles, "I was walking out of my apartment when I saw this white dude standing around I hadn't seen before. He had his back turned to me so I didn't see his face but I'm pretty sure he took my fucking bike." Many residents believe that the local food festival and the swaths of out-of-towners it has attracted may be to blame. "You got people from all over the place coming in and out, I guarantee you it's one of those motherfuckers," said Alan Knowles. "Cops aren't even investigating anything. Fuck them too." [[Return|Central Hub]]

//March 1, 2019 Well, it's been a while. My field training went pretty great by the way, thanks for asking. My field instructor's pretty nice. Well, maybe "nice" isn't the right word. I think we'll get along, though. Anyone that shares my level of commitment to the Grand Game is alright by me. But enough of that. I decided to go out to Ralston and celebrate my latest triumph in ghostfinding by treating myself to a steak dinner (no, it's not lonely to eat out by yourself, shut up). The waitress had just taken my order when I started going all spacey again. I was at a barcade. I think it was the same one I shifted into before, actually. This time though, there was a band performing. It was this real jangly indie music kind of thing and there was a girl lead singer. I thought it was sort of nice. She was singing and singing. The crowd seemed to like it. I think I like it too. Anyway, that's about it. That's the whole shift. God it was so long since my last "incident" that I almost thought that maybe it just disappeared, somehow. No such luck I guess.// (set: $bandshow to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

The Mira Monet is a 100 year old luxury hotel and a Ralston institution. The website design is spare, in good taste, and woefully uninformative. The rest of the Internet proves a bit more helpful and brings you to a Bulger University school paper article on the day of Alison Brown's death. MODEL UNITED NATIONS MAKES WAVES by Cynthia Cormack The Bulger University Model United Nations is set to represent at the thirteth annual National Intercollegiate Model United Nations Conference. "It's super exciting. We've been prepping for this for a long time and I have zero doubt that we're going to do great," said senior Alden Allenburg. The conference, which will be held as always at the Mira Monet Hotel, will comprise of twenty of the finest schools from all over the country including Tarrimack University, the Winston College, University of Lordham, and the Harold Markham University. "Bulger was the last year's winner. No school's been known to win two consecutive years but we'll give it a go," said junior Alison Brown, representing the Principality of Ingheim. (set: $burgervalue to $burgervalue +1) Along with spirited debates on subjects relating directly to real world issues, the conference is expected to be a time of intercollegiate dialogue and camaraderie. There will be catered food, including local favorite Burger Assault, in addition to a panel of alumni, professors, and real world experts answering questions at the end of the evening. (set: $progress to $progress +1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

MIND KONTROL seems like a cool place for cool people. Probably not for you though. [[Return|Central Hub]]

Along with MIND KONTROL, Spaceman Pizza is the other major establishment that has a coveted "Space Racer" machine. The website boasts that its "Space Racer" is "first edition, fixed only for glitches". You take a look at their event calendar, which not only shows off upcoming events but past ones as well. MARCH 4, 2018: FIRST ANNUAL SPACEMAN GAME TOURNAMENT Come one, come all! Spaceman Pizza will be hosting a tournament on the fourth of March with Skeet Shoot, Space Racer, Beach Bar Babe, Exploder, and Kandy Mountain Hikers all in rotation. Winner will be awarded a year long supply of personal sized pizza. Usual entrance fee applies. MARCH 1, 2019: PAJAMAPANTS/THE GOOD NURSE Pajamapants will be opening for the Good Nurse. All pizza except pineapple half-price, entrance fee applies. [[Return|Central Hub]] (set: $pizza to 1)

The Viewer is a popular news site with a tech focus aimed at a twentysomething readership. On the day of Miriam Turner's death, there had indeed been a tech journalism conference at the Ralston Convention Center at which numerous Viewer employees had been present. Unfortunately, there's not much more here than that. You decide to try visiting the Viewer office - which you realize is only about an hour away - personally. [[Return|Central Hub]] (set: $viewer to 1) (set: $progress to $progress +1)

You and Cyra decide to visit the Lintons in Calernia. "Pretty good. Ambrose is a good teacher," she says when you ask her how the training is coming along. "You never told me about him before. He said you used to be his student too," she says. (set: $myravalue to 1) [[It was a long time ago.]] [[Does he still do the thing where he repeats everything twice?]]

Spaceman Pizza is a downtown barcade-cum-pizza joint that serves as a hangout aimed at nostalgic young adults and college students. The food is reportedly quite good, the beer selection is solid, and they feature a good selection of modern and classic arcade games. "We also host events and we're a popular venue for up-and-coming local musicians," says the manager, "So, what can we help you with today?" "One of the Bay Side Killer's victims was seen here on the night she died," says Cyra. "Mikayla. I remember her. She was a beautiful soul," he says. "Have the police already spoken to you?" she asks. "Would you believe they haven't? Mikayla's not the only one. Four of those girls were regulars here, including her. Alison, Julia, Miriam. I used to recognize their faces when they came in." "And you never went forward with something like this?" "I didn't know if it meant anything; we're a college town business, probably half the student body at Bulger are regulars here, plus a couple professors. Hey, don't look at me like that. Believe me, if I actually thought that sack of shit worked for me, I'd take him outside and shoot him myself." "I don't suppose you'd provide us a list of your employees, just to be safe?" asks Cyra. "Look. You're shades. I'll be honest with you: Even just having you in here is making me a little nervous." "It might help us catch him. Please, anything helps." He takes a second to consider his choices. "One of my servers knew one of the victims. He's already talked to the cops, but maybe he'll talk to you too." "What's his name?" "Caden Irwin. I'll give you his phone number." (set: $irwin to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

"Not //that// long," she says. "So you think this Calernia Burglar might be the BSK? You don't think the cops got it with John Bellows?" [[They might have, they might not have.]]

"Yeah, it's like he thinks you're not really listening. Maybe it's just one of those old habits you pick up from teaching so long," she says. You arrive at Swinehart Court, a cul-de-sac just around the middle of Calernia and no more than five miles away from the refinery. The Linton house is a tidy little well-to-do two-story middle class home in the middle of the half-circle. The next door neighbor on the right, it seems, is moving away; there is a moving truck parked just outside with things packed away in boxes. You ring on the Lintons' doorbell and an older man in his early sixties steps out. "Yes? Can I help you?" "Are you Mr. Linton? We're with the police and we were hoping to speak to the Lintons about an on-going investigation," says Cyra. "They didn't tell you? The Lintons moved away four months ago. Can't blame 'em after what happened," says the man. "You wouldn't happen to have their phone numbers, would you?" she asks. "No, didn't really think to keep their numbers I'm afraid. Sorry," he says. .... "Well, that was a complete fucking waste of our time," says Cyra as she lights up a cigarette. You notice a young woman - a short, slender blonde in her early twenties - glancing at you from near the house next door. She appears to be helping with the moving. [[You see that girl over there?]]

Swinehart Court is the small residential cul-de-sac where the Calernia Burglar committed his first ever act of sexual violence. [[Return|Central Hub]]

"The one checking us out?" she asks. [[Yeah. Wanna go talk to her?]]

"Fuck it. Why not?" Before you can go over, the young woman has already worked up the courage and come up to you first. "Are you guys cops?" she asks. "We work with the police," says Cyra. "This is about what happened with the Lintons isn't it?" she asks. "Yes, it is. We were hoping to ask some questions," says Cyra. "I already told the other cops everything I know," says the woman. "Well, we'd appreciate it if you could go over everything just one more time," says Cyra. The young woman introduces herself as Myra Cannon, a 22 year old student at a local community college studying biochemistry. About a month before the attack on the Lintons, she began to feel "watched". On her daily jogs around town, she would constantly see a yellow truck that she'd never seen before. Initially, this went unnoticed and she did not make the connection until neighbors started noticing a strange man prowling around her house. The man was too quick for anyone to get a good look other than that he was probably a young white male. Frightened and fearing that the Calernia Burglar was about, Cannon called the police and they dispatched an officer to routinely patrol the area. Shortly after this, all prowling activity ceased for a few days before the Lintons were attacked. "It was that man. It was the man who was watching me, I know it was. He knew I was on to him so he decided to attack my neighbors instead," she said. "And I felt so much time feeling like, like I was responsible somehow. Like it was my fault." "What happened wasn't your fault," says Cyra. [[So you never got a good look at this man?]]

"But if the cases aren't connected, we're wasting time right?" [[Right now, I don't think we can afford to pick and choose our leads.]]

"Yeah. You're probably right about that." You arrive at Swinehart Court, a cul-de-sac just around the middle of Calernia and no more than five miles away from the refinery. The Linton house is a tidy little two-story middle class home in the middle of the half-circle. The next door neighbor on the right, it seems, is moving away; there is a moving truck parked just outside with things packed away in boxes. You ring on the Lintons' doorbell and an older man in his early sixties steps out. "Yes? Can I help you?" "Are you Mr. Linton? We're with the police and we were hoping to speak to the Lintons about an on-going investigation," says Cyra. "They didn't tell you? The Lintons moved away four months ago. Can't blame 'em after what happened," says the man. "You wouldn't happen to have their phone numbers, would you?" she asks. "No, didn't really think to keep their numbers I'm afraid. Sorry," he says. .... "Well, that was a complete fucking waste of our time," says Cyra as she lights up a cigarette. You notice a young woman - a short, slender blonde in her early twenties - glancing at you from near the house next door. She appears to be helping with the moving. [[You see that girl over there?]]

"No, I didn't." "Do you think that someone else in this neighborhood might have?" asks Cyra. "Probably not. The other cops already asked everyone," she said. "Do you think this, any of this, has something to do with the Bay Side Killer?" she asks. Cyra looks at you for the answer. [[No, I wouldn't worry about it.]] [[It's certainly possible. Are you sure you can't remember anything else?]]

"We have contracts all over the area, including all the major food festivals. And we have a lot of employees." The proprietor is furtive and not eager to talk, which is understandable. His tongue seems to loosen when you float the possibility of police involvement. Burger Assault is primarily a catering business but it also sustains itself with a single restaurant in downtown Braden, some distance away from Ralston. The decor is much more tasteful than the aggressive name would suggest, with black-and-white checkered floors and pleather swivel stools that evoke an era while stopping just before turning kitsch. "The name was my son's idea," he says, "He's kind of a mischievous kid, probably thought it was funny. Maybe it was an Internet joke, I don't know." "Mr. Sherman, your business might be linked to these killings. If there's anything at all you can tell us-" "You're not police, are you?" he asks, "I don't mean any disrespect if you're not of course." "No, we're not officially the police," says Cyra. "Look, I want to help. I really do. But I have a business to manage. I can't just go handing out potentially sensitive information to anyone that walks in asking for it." "Mr. Sherman-" "I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to come back with a warrant." //"Well, thanks for nothing,"// you think. (set: $burgerconvo to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

The young woman smiles. "You guys are just making sure you've covered all your bases right?" she asks. "Of course. That's our job." "I hope you catch him. God, I can't even tell you how scared I've been." "After they caught the burglar?" asks Cyra. "Yeah. I thought I might be next." [[Why would you think that?|Why would you feel that you might be next?]]

"No. I can't think of anything else," she says. She looks back at the moving truck. "I'm moving away. I know they caught the burglar but I still feel like I might be next, you know? I'm gonna go back and live with my parents for a bit, figure out where to go next." [[Why would you feel that you might be next?]]

After finding nothing of note on Clayton Rogers in the database or the Internet, you note his address in the casefile and pay him a visit. "It's about the Bay Side Killer, isn't it?" he asks. His straightforwardness surprises you. "Look, they got the wrong guy. Bellows? That's not him. He's still out there except they're calling him the Bay Side Killer now." [[He graduated from break-ins to sexual assault then all the way up to murder.]] (set:$claytonconvo to 1) (set: $progress to $progress +1)

You confirm that Myra Cannon is exactly who she claimed to be, but there isn't much more about her on the Internet. [[Return|Central Hub]]

LOCAL WOMAN'S MURDER SHOCKS COMMUNITY Yesterday, at around nine in the morning, the county sheriff's office confirmed that Mikayla Thompson, a local woman, was murdered in her home by an intruder. "It's such a tragedy. She was the sweetest, most beautiful young woman. She was like a granddaughter to me, I will never forget her," said next door neighbor Martha Williams. The murderer is still at large and the police caution all residents to take extra precautions in home security. "We strongly advise all young women to keep their doors and windows firmly locked at night. If there are any other residents in the house, we recommend sleeping in shifts and coming up with an emergency exit plan," said investigating detective Jim Stanton. The police would not provide information on whether or not a serial killer was suspected. The victim's two housemates, Robert Tesman and Kristin Boyd, agreed to be identified but refused to comment. Mikayla Thompson was a librarian at the local library and a singer for a local indie band. Her loss will be greatly mourned by her family and loved ones. (set: $tesmanclue to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

Nate Smith invites you over to his home in Winslow Creek. You find him forthcoming and probably honest. "I knew one of the victims's cousins. This guy named Ed Silverman I went to high school with? We were pretty close and his cousin was Julia Smith. I didn't know her too well but I knew they were close and hung out a lot with the same friends. And she did very briefly entered my social circle last year." (set: $nateconvo to 1) [[Please explain.]]

"I knew one of the Bay Side Killer victims. Sort of." "Sort of?" asks Cyra. "I went to high school with one of their cousins, this guy named Ed Silverman. He was a friend of one of my friend's ex-boyfriends. He was apparently super sick or something that night so her parents weren't home and then, well, you know." Someone comes out of her house and calls her over. "I should probably go." "Thank you for speaking to us." She smiles and darts off. "What do you know. Not a total waste of time after all." [[Return|Central Hub]]

At the Viewer office, you get warm reception exactly up to the point the management realizes that they are under no legal obligation to talk to you. You spend about an hour waiting outside the office of the managing editor. "Check this place out," says Cyra, "Talk about douchetopia." The Viewer's office is a slick, self-consciously modern building where the walls of the corridor leading into the newsroom are decorated with mock graffiti, featuring psychedelic colors, cartoons, inspirational quotes, and political slogans. The newsroom itself is a cubicle maze except all the dividers are clear glass, which you figure is some weird tech hippie thing you don't understand. You're also pretty sure you walked past at least one guy wearing no shoes on your way in. [[You're just jealous because this place is cooler than the chapter office.]]

"Yeah right. I'd rather die than work at a place this stupid." She smiles. "I'm sorry." [[About what?]]

"Lying to you. About my shifting. You were right, I should have just come clean from the beginning." [[We all make mistakes.]] [[Maybe I should have made you feel like you could trust me.]]

"No, don't say that. This was my mistake. I did the wrong thing. And I'm sorry. You were right to be mad at me." A bespectacled intern pops out and chirps that the managing editor is ready to see you. The managing editor is a razor thin, long-haired bearded man in his early thirties named Adam Spiers. You recognize him; the website identified him as a co-founder. Unfortunately, he proves even less helpful than you'd imagined. You get the standard gab about how devastated everyone is but nothing concrete or useable. He tells you that the office has already told the police everything they knew - which turned out to be not much - and that, at any rate, nobody there talks to people without badges anyway. You thank him and leave. "This is starting to feel a little like bashing your head against a wall," says Cyra. Just as you get ready to walk out, someone calls you from behind and stops you. A tall, lanky young man in his mid-twenties with long hair tied up into a knot-top and his top two shirt buttons undone walks over. "You guys are cops, right?" he asks. "Sort of," says Cyra. "Is this about what happened to Miriam?" he asks. "Yes." "I didn't talk to the cops last time they were here," he says, "Company policy." "Your editor said you guys already told the cops everything," says Cyra. "Yeah, he'd say that. But we're a media company and the management is super nervous any time the cops get involved. We're supposed to just turn down anything short of an actual subpoena or an arrest warrant." "Wow," says Cyra. "Yeah, I know." "You know four more people died?" "Look, it's not like anyone knew much anyway. She was new, she was pretty shy. People here didn't really know her." "But here you are now." "I was sort of like her supervisor. She and I worked together a lot." "Were you two close?" "Not really outside of work, no. Last time I saw her was at that conference and I'm pretty sure that's the only time I saw her out of the office." [[But you think you have something that could help us.]]

Ed Silverman doesn't have much of a social media presence. It does, however, appear that he really was sick on the night of Alison Brown's murder with pneumonia, which he seems to have fully recovered from. Aside from the fact that he was Brown's cousin, the only other thing you glean is that he's currently a teacher at an elementary school. Probably not a major person of interest. [[Return|Central Hub]]

"The one really noticeable thing about Miriam was that she was anal about time. She got agitated if you were late by a second. She showed up to everything an hour early. Except that day. She was late to show up by an hour. Apparently, there was this huge traffic caused by some food festival happening in Winslow Creek." "Food festival?" "Yeah, you know, the city had all these food trucks and vendors come out, it was a big event. Some of the local restaurants would set up stands. But it caused some congestion so she ended up calling me in the middle of traffic. I had to calm her down, told her it wasn't a big deal." "So she was late because a food festival caused traffic." "Yeah, but isn't it a bit weird that she died on the same day she was late to something for the first time? There's this big festival thing and that's the day it happens?" "Sounds like a bit of a reach." "It's all I have. I know it's not a lot but I thought, you know, maybe every little bit might help." The man looks down at his feet for a second then lifts his head back up. He makes eye contact. "She was a good person. She worked hard, she was honest, and I'm glad I worked with her. I hope you catch this fucker, I really do." He walks away. "What do you think about this? Probably nothing, right?" (set: $winslowffclue to 1) [[Probably, but maybe not.|Central Hub]]

"Yeah, that about sums it up. You want something to drink?" [[No thank you. I'd like to just cut to the chase. Tell me anything you know that you think might help.]]

"What makes you think I know anything like that?" [[I know about your sexual proclivities. Not here to judge, I just want the truth.]]

"Alyssa and I broke up two days before she died. I told her everything, got tired of living the double life. She didn't really understand it." He sighs, then closes his eyes for a moment as if to think. Something dawns on him. "I guess you probably also know about the friend I was with that night?" [[Yes.|Nate Passage]]

"His name is Nate Smith. He once told me he knew one of the BSK victims or something." [[Your friend knew one of the victims?]]

"I don't really remember the details. You'll have to ask him about it. That's about as much as I know, though." [[Thank you for your time.|Central Hub]]

Robert Tesman was a 24 year old man with no criminal record and no prior indication of trouble with the law. As the police record stated, he was dating Kristin Boyd though his social media profile suggests that the couple is no longer together. His primary interest seems to be snowboarding and he briefly worked at Spaceman Pizza before getting a job as an accountant at a construction firm. Not much more to it than that here. (set: $pizzavalue to $pizzavalue +1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

Caden Irwin agrees to talk to you at his apartment. You go and visit him. Irwin is a man in his mid-twenties who lives with two roommates. He tells you that he goes to school studying theatre. "I actually didn't know any of the victims. I mean, kind of. I knew Mikayla a little. But my friend Steve knew her better." (set: $progress to $progress +1) [[Steve?]]

"Yeah, Steve Alvers. He's a recording and sound engineer and he works at this studio in Ralston. We went to high school together and I remember he worked a lot with Mikayla's band in and out of the studio on gigs and stuff like that." [[Let's get back to Spaceman Pizza for a moment because I understand that several of the victims were regulars there.]]

"I don't know, really. I recognized a couple of them but they weren't really directly known to me or anything. Steve might know more than me, honestly." You thank him and leave. [[Return|Cyra Call]]

The Three Impostors is a dive bar where Janine Harris worked. It was karaoke night when Janine worked there for the last time. There doesn't appear to have been much else happening but you make a mental note to pay a visit anyway. [[Return|Central Hub]] (set: $impostors to 1)

"I work at this burger place called Burger Assault and late last year, I was at a food festival in Tannersville working a stand because we go to every single one of those fucking things. While I was there, I ran into an old friend of mine named Caden who was working at this Ralston pizza place called Spaceman Pizza. I knew he worked there because I used to go there with my friends from time to time but I wasn't expecting to run into him. I introduced him to my friend, Pete, who worked with me when I was at the refinery in Calernia in 2016 before I quit, and Caden teased him a little for working for a burger place even though he's a vegan. It turned out Caden and Pete sort of knew each other and that's when they mentioned Julia." (set: $pizzavalue to $pizzavalue +1) [[What did they say about Julia?]]

You visit Steve Alvers at the Aura Division, the recording studio where he works. There's no sign outside and it takes you a bit to find it. "It's a bad idea for recording studios to have signs," Alvers explains, "We don't take walk-in business, obviously, and there's a lot of expensive shit lying around to steal." "Hey Steve, Mark wants to know if you'll be ready in ten," says a young man who walks in. "Tell him I'll be right there," says Alvers. "How exactly did you know Julia?" asks Cyra. "Me and a couple of my friends are part of a group that does a lot of snowboarding together. Winter sports people, you know? We go up to Lake Khaine once or twice a year, thrice if we're lucky. Julia was part of our group." "You also worked with Mikayla Thompson." "Yeah, so I guess I'm linked to two victims. Cops talked to me. I guess maybe I was a suspect for a while. I'm pretty sure they cleared me though, on account of me having a rock solid alibi for the Alison Brown murder." "Is that right?" says Cyra. "I was working an all-nighter, right here at the studio. A dozen different people can speak for me." "How did this snowboarding group get started?" "One of my friends is a guy named Caden, who works at Spaceman Pizza. We met when I was working PA for a band's gig there one time and he said he liked snowboarding. He brought up that he and his friends Jordan and Kristin were going to a trip with him and invited me so I said yes. Then the trip after that I ended up inviting my friend Pete and he invited Julia." "Was there anyone at all in this group or close to it that you'd be suspicious of?" "Nobody at all." "Absolutely no one?" "Well, I mean, aside from the core group people we would occasionally bring other people over too. But I don't think any of them were suspicious or anything either." "Who were some of these other people?" "Jordan's cousin Robert tagged along once or twice. Robert was also Mikayla's roommate. Pete once brought his girlfriend way back in December a couple years ago. I think her name was Lindsay, or something like that? She was this freckled girl, with red hair. And I once invited my neighbor - I live up in Winslow Creek - but he moved away long before all this stuff happened." You thank him and leave, making sure to have some coffee before you do. (set: $steveconvo to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

"Pete said he went snowboarding a lot with a mutual friend named Steve, and that Julia was part of the group. I knew Pete knew Ed too so that wasn't shocking or anything." (set: $burgervalue to $burgervalue +1) [[He didn't say anything else?]]

Two Weeks After Her Death, Best Friend Remembers Emily Raines by Gene Harlan //With the Bay Side Killer remaining on the loose, a community struggles to recover. One victim tells her story.// On the night of June 6, 2019, Lindsay McMillan and her housemate Bob Reid were watching television while their third housemate Emily Raines slept. The idea was to sleep in shifts, just like the police suggested. Bob was sound asleep while Lindsay remained awake, eyes occasionally darting towards the kitchen to watch for any intruder. "I was starting to fall asleep and was just about to wake up Bob so I could get some sleep too. Literally just as I was having that thought, I saw him running towards me." She was knocked unconscious. The last thing she saw before everything went black was a man in a black ski mask and a black shirt, his genitals completely exposed. She woke up later with only minor injuries in a state of abject terror. "I can't even really begin to describe it in words. It's too much to think about." Born in 1994, Lindsay is the youngest of three daughters. She is a small, willowy young woman with reddish hair, green eyes, and freckles dotting her face. After finishing high school, she joined the navy reserve and was honorably discharged for psychological reasons only recently. An avid surfer and a professional graphic designer, she befriended Emily while taking night classes at college. "We were both part of this screenwriting class and we hit it off. We started hanging out a lot with my friends outside of class and one day, she mentioned that she was looking to move out. I suggested that we should look for a place together because so was I." Lindsay had lived up until then with her boyfriend in Conrad Hills - locally famous for its unusually high vegan population -, in a home that belonged to his father who lived overseas (her boyfriend declined to be identified for the piece). The relationship ended shortly after the death of Lindsay's close friend Alyssa Winder, something that she still hasn't fully recovered from. Now, with the murder of a second close friend, she is unsure as to whether or not she will ever move on. "It's something I have to learn to live with, I guess. It won't be easy. I still have nightmares every time I go to sleep. I wake up sweating in the middle of the night." (set: $lindsayclue to 1) Lindsay no longer lives in the Bay and has asked us to respect her privacy by not disclosing her current location. (set: $progress to $progress +1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

Pete McElroy meets you at a corporate event that he's at, catering with Burger Assault. The management agrees to let him speak to you briefly. "Look, Mike's not a bad guy. He has some issues but I don't think he would actually hurt anyone. I just told the police what Miriam told me." (set: $progress to $progress +1) [[Do you remember if he left the party early?]]

Cyra asks you to come over. She wouldn't elaborate over the phone but it sounded urgent. You drive there with Ambrose in tow. "He called me," she says. "Who called you?" asks Ambrose. "Him. The killer. The man I spoke to on the phone that night." "What did he say to you?" .... //I was running through those breathing exercises you told me about, trying to keep my mind focused, my pulse steady. The phone rang. I let it go to voicemail at first but then it rang again. And again. And again. "Who is this?" "Hi Cyra." My legs went limp and I almost greyed out for a second. "Who are you and how did you get this number?" "I think you and I both know who this is." "What do you want?" "To hear your voice. You're a pretty one you know that? Do you have a boyfriend Cyra? I bet you have a nice, tight little wet cunt, don't you?" "You piece of shit." He laughed. "Calm down, I'm just playing with you. I wanted to ask you something. How did you know to call that night? I knew your friend was alone. And I know I never told anyone where I was going. What's going on here Cyra?" "We know who you are. The police, the feds, everyone. You're finished. If I were you, I'd just turn myself in." "Well, if that's true then maybe I should have one last bit of fun before they take me right? You know what I really want right now Cyra? I want to hear you moan. I want to hear what it sounds like when you're getting spread apart and fucked like a whore." "You'll burn in hell." "Do you want to know what Janine sounded like when I fucked her?" He started moaning and laughing. I hung up.// [[Did you recognize his voice?]]

Proposed Housing Regulation Causes Controversy Residents of Conrad Hills are outraged by a proposed housing regulation that would make basements in the area illegal. "It's incredible. Every single person I've spoken to is against this. I have no idea why this thing is even under consideration," says resident Jim Coburn. Under the new regulation, the construction guidelines of the area would be brought in line with the rest of the bay. While most proposals included are not controversial, a blanket ban on basements is causing ire. Unlike the rest of the area, where most regulations ban the construction of basements due to concerns over earthquakes, Conrad Hills has traditionally permitted the construction of basements owing to its relative distance from the Joriah Fault. But a wave of new geographic studies suggesting that hills may be much closer to sister faults than previously thought. "If an earthquake of 5.0 magnitude or greater were to strike, it could incur nearly billions' of dollars worth in damage in addition to casualties," said Dan Forsworth, professor of geology at Tuffington University, "Is it worth revising the housing rules? Maybe." "The ultimate say should be with the homeowners," said Jared Nyborg, the president of the local homeowner's association, "I don't like anything about a sweeping legislation that could potentially incur millions in damages before any natural disaster." [[Return|Central Hub]]

//April 2, 2019 I was out in the Windemere area when this one popped. I was in the middle of eating curry. I was a young man and there was a young woman crying in front of me. Neither of us were saying anything. She was just crying. She was a petite girl; red hair, green eyes I think. Lots of freckles. God, I wish I could have given her a hug. I can't remember the last time someone sounded so heartbroken.// (set: $redhead to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

Lindsay McMillan no longer has any social media presence. She once did. Despite the fact that she was in a relationship for some time, you don't find anything that would pinpoint you to a single, specific boyfriend. [[Return|Central Hub]]

"Same voice that picked up the phone that night but no one I recognized." "Cyra, we'll catch him." "I know we will. I know where he lives." You are stunned silent. You look at Ambrose, who appears to be equally stupefied. "I mean, I don't have his address. But I know what his house looks like." "What are you talking about?" asks Ambrose. "I shifted again today, before the phone call. It was him. He was sitting in his basement and he was looking at a picture of me." "He had a picture of you?" "Yeah, and I didn't recognize it. What's really important -" "- Is that he's been following you. Six, we have to stop this." "No! We're this close to cracking this thing." "He's calling your home, he's stalking you in public. He probably knows where you live. He maybe knows where we live. We need to shut this down and let the feds take care of it." "Hey, fuck you! You're not the one that lost your fucking best friend to this asshole!" "Cyra, I understand how you feel. I just don't think it's right for me and Six to knowingly put you in the line of danger." "Our whole lives are in the line of danger. When I went to Oxworth with Six, I was in the line of danger. If I didn't wash out, I would have spent every single day of my life in the line of danger. That's the work. We choose to make that sacrifice right? Let me make it one last time and let me make it count. I need this." "And I'm sorry I yelled at you. I didn't mean to lose my temper," she says. "Six, what do you think?" says Ambrose. [[I think the only way out is forward. We close this thing and we do it together.]] [[I don't like any of this.]] [[Cyra has excellent marks in combat.]]

"This is one mistake I shouldn't have made. I'm sorry." A bespectacled intern pops out and chirps that the managing editor is ready to see you. The managing editor is razor thin, long-haired bearded man in his early thirties named Adam Spiers. You recognize him; the website identified him as a co-founder. Unfortunately, he proves even less helpful than you'd imagined. You get the standard gab about how devastated everyone is but nothing concrete or useable. He tells you that the office has already told the police everything they knew - which turned out to be not much - and that, at any rate, nobody there talks to people without badges anyway. You thank him and leave. "This is starting to feel a little like bashing your head against a wall," says Cyra. Just as you get ready to walk out, someone calls you from behind and stops you. A tall, lanky young man in his mid-twenties with long hair tied up into a knot-top and his top two shirt buttons undone walks over. "You guys are cops, right?" he asks. "Sort of," says Cyra. "Is this about what happened to Miriam?" he asks. "Yes." "I didn't talk to the cops last time they were here," he says, "Company policy." "Your editor said you guys already told the cops everything," says Cyra. "Yeah, he'd say that. But we're a media company and the management is super nervous any time the cops get involved. We're supposed to just turn down anything short of an actual subpoena or an arrest warrant." "Wow," says Cyra. "Yeah, I know." "You know four more people died?" "Look, it's not like anyone knew much anyway. She was new, she was pretty shy. People here didn't really know her." "But here you are now." "I was sort of like her supervisor. She and I worked together a lot." "Were you two close?" "Not really outside of work, no. Last time I saw her was at that conference and I'm pretty sure that's the only time I saw her out of the office." [[But you think you have something that could help us.]]

Windemere is a small unincorporated area in the vicinity of Conrad Hills. There's a small cemetery there and the schools are said to be decent. Otherwise, there's not much else to be said about it. [[Return|Central Hub]]

//May 7, 2019 Happened again, while I was having breakfast this time. I was this guy and I was sitting in what looked to me like a basement. Basement? We don't really have basements around here, they're considered earthquake hazards. Maybe it was someone in Conrad Hills? Anyways, it was set up to be a recreational room, with a dartboard on the wall, some posters, a billiards table, and a flatscreen TV up against the wall. I was watching the news on television, then I came back. Nothing more interesting than that.// (set: $basementroom to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

//July 7, 2019 I was trying to fall asleep, then it happened. I think I was a guy at some sort of corporate event. I was helping to serve up some hamburgers? Maybe I was a catering worker. Not very exciting.// (set: $burgerevent to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

Robert Allan Reid has one noted encounter with the police. He was brought in for questioning by Winslow Creek Police in the December of 2017. The interrogation transcripts are present in the ghostfinder database. ROBERT REID - DECEMBER 4, 2017 (UI) - UNINTELLIGIBLE (SC) - SIMULTANEOUS CONVERSATION (BN) - BACKGROUND NOISE (TWO DIFFERENT INVESTIGATORS WERE RESPONSIBLE FOR CONDUCTING THE FOLLOWING INTERROGATION. THE RECORD WILL MAKE NO DISTINCTION BETWEEN THEM.) INTERROGATOR: This will only take a moment, I promise. REID: I'm not under arrest, right? INTERROGATOR: No, you're not. We just need to ask a few more questions about what happened that night. REID: I already told you everything I know. INTERROGATOR: We talked to Ian. He seems to think he might have seen the vandal run over into your house after smashing the window. REID: Do you actually still think it was me? I told you, me and Ian ended all that shit a long time ago and even if we hadn't, why would I just run over to his house and smash a window one day for no reason? INTERROGATOR: What were your housemates doing that night? REID: Emily was at work. Lindsay wasn't even at the house, she was on this snowboarding trip with her boyfriend. INTERROGATOR: So you were the only one at the house? REID: This is - (UI) INTERROGATOR: Is there any chance any chance that someone did run into, say, your backyard and you missed it? REID: Look, if you're gonna charge me, charge me. Alright? Otherwise, stop bothering me with this bullshit. - END OF INITIAL CONVERSATION - The rest of the transcript is nothing but almost two hours of back-and-forth in which the police ultimately conclude that Reid was innocent. [[Return|Central Hub]]

"Thank you," says Cyra. "You said you knew where he lived," says Ambrose. "May 7, 2019. I shifted. Into whom, I didn't know at the time. He was sitting in a basement, it was set up like a recreational room, and he was watching television. That's it, that's all that happened." "Then, this morning, I shifted. Same basement rec room. I even went back into my memory to check. It's him. That's where he lives." "But you didn't see his face so it doesn't help us, does it?" "No, but it's something right? It's one more thing we have today we didn't have yesterday." [[You used to get these once a month. This is three in less than two weeks. Ambrose, I thought we were getting this under control.]]

"I know. But the only way out is forward. Right?" says Cyra. "You were saying that you knew where he lived," says Ambrose. "May 7, 2019. I shifted. Into whom, I didn't know at the time. He was sitting in a basement, it was set up like a recreational room, and he was watching television. That's it, that's all that happened." "Then, this morning, I shifted. Same basement rec room. I even went back into my memory to check. It's him. That's where he lives." "But you didn't see his face so it doesn't help us, does it?" "No, but it's something right? It's one more thing we have today we didn't have yesterday." [[You used to get these once a month. This is three in less than two weeks. Ambrose, I thought we were getting this under control.]]

"Somehow, that is not as comforting to me as it should be Six," says Ambrose. "I hope he comes after me. That way, I can just kill him and save the taxpayers money," says Cyra. "Stop. You were saying that you knew where he lived." "May 7, 2019. I shifted. Into whom, I didn't know at the time. He was sitting in a basement, it was set up like a recreational room, and he was watching television. That's it, that's all that happened." "Then, this morning, I shifted. Same basement rec room. I even went back into my memory to check. It's him. That's where he lives." "But you didn't see his face so it doesn't help us, does it?" "No, but it's something right? It's one more thing we have today we didn't have yesterday." [[You used to get these once a month. This is three in less than two weeks. Ambrose, I thought we were getting this under control.]]

//June 3, 2019 I was at some sort of recording studio, I think. Sitting behind a mixing table of some sort, talking to someone else. It was mostly engineer jargon so I couldn't really understand it. I think they were talking about mics? I was in the middle of brushing my teeth.// (set: $recording to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

"I sort of deliberately tried to make this one happen." [[You did what?]]

"I was trying to see if I could reconnect with him." [[Ambrose, did you teach her to do this?]]

"I know it sounds unintuitive, but the first step towards gaining control is being able to enter the shift state at will. If you can make it happen, you also know how to not make it happen." [[It doesn't sound unintuitive, it sounds insane. It sounds like the exact opposite of what I asked you to do.]]

"Cyra, in the future I think it'd be for the best if you consulted me or Six before you tried something like this again." "I'm sorry. But guys, this is working. I have some handle on this." [[Cyra, you don't understand. You don't just go out and do these things without talking to us first.]]

"But I-" [[What if he saw you too? What if this backfired? What if you wound up jeopardizing the whole investigation?]]

"I didn't think it was-" [[You didn't think. That's the problem. That's why you're not suited for this, for any of this, because you don't think enough before you do things.]]

Cyra says nothing. Her face scrunches up, first in anger, then in regret. She leaves in defeated resignation. "She was just trying to help," says Ambrose, breaking what felt like an eternity of silence. (set: $cyracall to 1) [[I want you to stay here from now on and make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. This never happens again.|Central Hub]]

"No. That's all he said." (set: $refineryvalue to $refineryvalue +1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

"We went to the party together. Then we sort of split up, started talking with other people. I ran into some people I knew and we just hung out. I lost sight of Mike." [[And you left the party before Mike came back?]]

"Yes, I did." [[How did you know Mike?]]

"From middle school, before he moved away. He also works - or worked, he quit recently - at Burger Assault. Before that, he was at the refinery in Calernia with me for a little bit. He's the one that got me the catering job, actually, a couple years ago, which was great because I fucking hated the refinery." (set: $burgervalue to $burgervalue +1) [[When did Mike quit the catering job?]]

"A bit after his sister died." [[You said that you told the police what Miriam told you.]]

"She said he was threatening to kill her, leaving angry voicemails on her phone. I don't remember the details. But I know they were mad at each other for a while, family history, you know how it can be." (set: $refineryvalue to $refineryvalue +1) [[Is there anything else that comes to mind?]]

Bulger University is a national flagship university with over 40,000 students and in over 400 undergraduate and graduate degree programs. It is considered one of the prides of Deleria and has a reputation for both excellence and progressive minded liberal politics. [[Return|Central Hub]]

Ralston is a city on the southern shore of the North Calafi Bay Area. It borders Bristol and Clinton to its east and is the home of Bulger University, one of Deleria's oldest and most prestigious higher learning institutions. It is considered to be a cultural hub and has a progressive reputation. [[Return|Central Hub]]

A local indie band that Mikayla Thompson sang for. Thompson, it seems, was the only permanent member. The other members were all friends from high school were people Thompson knew from college. You listen to some of their music and decide quickly that it isn't to your taste, even if you acknowledge the talent that went into it. [[Return|Central Hub]]

You show up unannounced at the Mike Turner residence, the address for which was helpfully provided in the files Stanton gave you. You notice that Cyra is a bit more tense than usual. (set: $progress to $progress +1) [[If you don't think you could handle this, it's okay to stay in the car.]]

Kristin Boyd's social media presence is minimal and the database doesn't have much on her either. She was studying to become an anthropologist and she enjoyed cooking on her free time. Her primary hobby seemed to be winter sports, snowboarding in particular. There is one picture of her in which she poses with someone named "Lindsay M.", about whom no further information can be found. (set: $boydclue to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

You step inside the Three Impostors. The bar takes up one side of the room and two oval tables up against the wall with chairs take up the other half. There's a cooler and a selection of beverages on offer, including beers on tap. The wall facing the tables is adorned with framed pictures and posters of movies and celebrities. The bartender is a woman in her early thirties. "Welcome in," she says. You take a seat at the bar. "What can I get for you?" (set:$barconvo to 1) [[A pint of ale please.]] [[A shot of whiskey please.]] [[A shot of vodka please.]]

"Nothing at the moment. I'll be sure to give you a call if I think of anything else though. And, obviously, you can call me whenever if you think I can help." (set: $peteconvo to 1) [[Thank you for your cooperation.|Central Hub]]

She obliges. "Don't think I've seen you around here before." [[A friend of mine had a friend who used to work here.]]

"Oh yeah? Who?" [[Janine Harris.]]

The bartender comes to a complete motionless stop for a second. "You a cop?" [[No, just an interested party.]]

"Interested why?" [[My friend and I are trying to catch the man who killed her. Anything you might know could help.]]

"I wish I could help you. I really do. Janine was a good girl. She didn't deserve what happened." [[Were there any men in her life who were threatening towards her?]]

"I mean, there was Mike. But that was all pretty much over by the time it happened. Mike Turner was Miriam Turner's younger brother and Miriam was the second BSK victim, but I'm guessing you already knew that." [[You don't find it interesting that Mike's a suspect in two of the BSK killings?]]

"Look, I knew Mike. He used to come in here a lot. He was a dumb, dumb kid and he said and did a lot of stupid things. But I just don't see him as a murderer." [[What about his sister?]]

//October 20, 2018 I was home this time, catching up on my homework readings. I was a man in the passenger side seat of a car and a woman was driving me. She was a pretty brunette with a long, pronounced nose that just worked with her face, somehow. We were talking. Me: You're not still mad at me right? Her: No. You know I love you. Me: I love you too. Then it was over.// (set: $brunette to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

"Miriam loved that kid. They weren't always on the best terms, but they were still family. She took care of him when he needed it." [[Anything unusual happen that night?]]

"It was karaoke night. We close at 2 on weekends but Janine left a bit early on account of a migraine. Other than that, nothing really. It was just a perfectly normal average night for us." You finish your drink. [[Thank you for your cooperation.|Central Hub]]

Hmm, probably not. Try again. [[Return|Central Hub]] (if: $killerResult is "peter mcelroy" or "pete mcelroy" or "pete" or "peter" or "mcelroy") [(go-to: "End Game")]

"Put out an APB on McElroy. Peter McElroy. That's M-C-E-L...." You and Stanton are standing in the middle of Casa McElroy, the home seen twice now by Cyra in her visions. The home of the Bay Side Killer, right in the middle of Conrad Hills. At midnight, you personally drove up to Stanton's home to tell him what you'd figured out. He was skeptical, but open-minded. After half an hour of exhaustive explanation, you convinced him. "Six, this is all great but a lot of it's circumstantial. Also, it's a federal case now. FID was just in the other day. It's not even my jurisdiction anymore." [[Five hundred grand says that we go over there and knock on this bastard's door right now, we find something.]]

"You have five hundred g's just lying around?" [[Get dressed and tell the wife you're sorry, smartass. We're going out.]]

You get there and when McElroy doesn't respond, you decide to perform a little extralegal warrantless search by kicking his door open. It takes you two about three minutes to come to the same realization. //"He's not here."// "I'll call the department and put an APB on him," Stanton says. Good soldier, risking getting fired or worse for no reason other than that lives might be in danger. But this isn't the time to reflect on heartwarming acts of courage. You call up Ambrose. "Six? What's going on?" [[Put Cyra on the phone, now.]]

"Cyra? She's not here right now." [[What do you mean she's not there right now? Where the hell is she then?]]

"She got a call from a friend and said she was going out. What's going on? Why do you need to talk to her?" You hang up. .... //ONE HOUR EARLIER// You were sitting on your couch, looking through the documents Six brought you. You used to take some time to yourself every now and then, maybe go out and do a jog around the block, or maybe get up to do some stretches. Ever since the investigation went into full swing, it became tougher and tougher to pull yourself away from it. A part of you is glad that Ambrose is there to act as a stabilizing influence, reminding you to eat, drink water, and take a break every once in a while. It's annoying but you understand the necessity. Then, at some point, it all just clicked and you figured it out. You felt stunned and dazed, like you'd been hit in the head with something hard and were having trouble focusing. There was a ringing in your head and a cold, clammy knot in the pit of your stomach. //Do I tell Ambrose? Of course you do you idiot. What else would you do?// What else indeed but sit on that goddamn couch staring at your phone for half an hour before it rang, taking the decision out of your hand. "Hi again Cyra," he said. [[Hello Peter.]]

He giggled his head off at that. "Congratulations. You got me. You're not as much of a stupid cunt as you look." [[I'm gonna enjoy watching you on the stand when they hand out your life sentence you sick fuck.]]

"No, I don't think that's gonna happen. I'm not going to prison Cyra. And I don't think you want me to go to prison." You stepped outside so that Ambrose wouldn't overhear. "Look, the way I see it, this is gonna play out one of two ways. You call the cops on me, I'm just gonna kill myself because there is no way that I am ever spending one single solitary moment behind prison bars. That's it. That's how it's gonna be. Or, option number two. The one I know you've been thinking about. You and I meet tonight somewhere private and we settle this between us. Just you and me, by the ancient laws of combat. You get your chance to actually get some justice. Your only chance to get some justice." You took a deep breath. [[Time and place, bitch.]]

"Place? Bulger University campus, the arts building. Time? Whenever you can get here. I'm gonna be there all night long. Bring toys." .... You got there. You knew you were in the right place when you found the door into the building already unlocked. You checked your weapon. Then the phone rang. "Cyra? Cyra, where are you?" [[Six, I'm at the Bulger University arts building. He's here. His name is Peter McElroy-]]

"I know who he is, I'm at his house. Cyra, listen to me. Get out of there. Whatever you do, do not attempt to engage this man. Get out right now." [[I can't. I'm sorry.]]

"Cyra!" You hung up, then went inside with your sidearm drawn. You were ready. The visual arts building is a sleek, white piece of modernist architecture. On the second floor, a long and narrow bridge connects one end of the floor to another. Stairs wind around at the walls, where corridors take you into one classroom or another. Paintings hang daintly on walls in perfectly symmetrical rectangular formations. You very slowly make your way inside. //Breathe. Don't let your nerves get to you. Remember your training. Control the encounter and control your enemy. Keep yourself focused.// Without warning, the lights come on and a voice rings out over the intercom. "Hi Cyra! So glad you came. Don't think I didn't see you on that phone, though. Bad girl. I thought we had an unspoken agreement." //Fuck.// "Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill myself just yet. Not until I've had a little fun with you. I guess we'll just have to make this a quick date, right?" //Don't listen to him. Think about where he is.// "You're probably thinking about where I must be right now. I guess even you must be able to figure out that I am sitting, at this moment, in the maintenance security room where they have all the controls to the intercom and cameras and all that other stuff. But where could that be? Do you even know the layout of this building, Cyra? Are you gonna pull out your phone and see if you can find the building blueprint on the Internet? Don't bother talking back by the way, because I can't hear you. I can just see everything you do." You close your eyes. You remember what Ambrose taught you. You try to feel him out with your mind. You let your intuition take the wheels. //Feel, don't think. Train yourself not to think. You know when it's going too fast for you to handle and you know how to make it stop. You just need to stop thinking and let yourself feel.// "The million guilder question for you right now is, can I find this man before the police get here and I lose my shot? And can I find him before he finds me?" The third floor. He's on the third floor, first corridor to the left. Your body immediately gets into a sprint and you book it. "Uh-oh. Somebody's in a hurry." You dash up the stairs, still taking care to be alert, to not let him surprise you. First floor, then to the second floor in less than a moment. The third floor comes up a second after that. First corridor, sharp left. You transition into a walk and control your breathing. Steady breathing, steady action. You look for the signs over the doors. Not sculpting, not architectural design. You turn right and find the one you were looking for. //SECURITY MAINTENANCE// You prepare to kick the door open before something dawns on you. He isn't talking anymore. He's left that room. The door immediately adjacent to the security maintenance room flings open, and a man in a grotesque clown mask runs out. He doesn't give you enough time to react and aim and you are sprayed in the face with something harsh and acid. Your sight goes immediately and there is burning pain and you feel him grab your throat and you drop your weapon. There's no more thinking now; your actions are pure instinct and training. You pull back your knee and drive it into his solar plexus as hard as you can manage. Not hard enough to incapacitate, but hard enough to loosen his grip on you. You drive him back further with a headbutt, then grab him by the hips and throw him to the floor. He grabs your leg and throws you to the floor as well, before getting on top of you. He gets his hands around your neck again and starts throttling. "You bitch, you fucking bitch!" You still can't see anything but you know you need a weapon. You feel around with your hands. //Can't try to outstrength him, not in this position. Think, think!// You feel yourself slowly greying out, even without vision. Your head feels ready to burst and strength seeps from your muscles. You can feel yourself stop thinking. Your hands feel some kind of round, cylindrical object. //Spray//. You grab and and start spraying it towards where his face must be. A shriek and a sudden letting go of your neck tells you that you got him. You grab him and throw him off of you. You can hear him gasping and groaning. You try to feel for your weapon. Meanwhile, you can hear him run away. //It's not here.// Think. Where did you drop it? It has to be here somewhere. //Does he have it? Does he have your weapon?// You think: This corridor isn't a large space. If it's not here, then he must have picked it up at some point. You got him with the spray but it wasn't much. Between the amount that came out and the clown mask absorbing the worst of it, he should recover fairly quickly. //He'll recover before you do.// You need to get out of there and hide. Your vision is still mostly gone but you are beginning to see shapes and colors. You make your way out of the hallway and down the stairs to the second floor, partly with your limited sight and partly through memory of the physical space. You turn right and you enter the first door you find, closing the door behind you as you do. You are in what seems to be a sculpting studio. There are tall marble statues although depicting what, you could not say. The lights are off, forcing you to feel through the space with your hands. Is that a door in the far corner? You squint and it looks like a storage closet of some sort. You run towards it, open it, and enter. "Cyra! Get out here!" You think. He can't find you in here. But Six knows you're here and he's no doubt bringing the police. You have to attack him at some point but he has your gun. You need to surprise him. You wipe the tears out of your eyes and a sharp jolt of pain surges out of your eyeballs as you do. Your vision is starting to get sharper. "Cyra!" A sculpting hammer? Is there one in here? Maybe that would suffice - You feel something. Something you shouldn't feel right now. No. No, not right now. Not here. //Not fucking here//. Before you can do anything about it, you shift. .... //You are Peter McElroy and you have a gun in your hand. Your vision is a little blurry but not by much. You no longer have the mask over your face. You notice something on the wall adjacent to the stairs leading down to the second floor: An orange stain. She touched that wall. She touched her face, which had the pepper spray all over it, then she touched that wall as she made her way down. She's somewhere here. She would have gone straight for what was visible. Did she go into the first room? You take a look at the doorknob leading into the first room she would have found: Orange stain. You open the door. "Cyra!", you call out. You hear nothing back. You look around. She's not here. No. She has to be here. There's a supply closet on the back right corner. You carefully approach it, your gun ready. You take one step, then another, then another. Your breathing is hard and heavy. You come upon the closet door and stand close to it, practically close enough to put your nose up against it. You slowly press the muzzle of your gun to the door. Your finger tenses, and you are a second away from firing.// .... [[Bang.]]

You give the door a good, sharp kick and send it flying into McElroy's face. You hear him scream and the gun goes off into the ceiling. You give him no time to respond; you run straight at him and grab the gun hand, causing him to drop it to the floor. You land a solid punch to his rib but this doesn't stun him enough. He grabs you, pushes you screaming into a table, then grabs your neck and starts strangling. "Fucking kill you.... Fucking cunt...." Your right hand is free; your left hand is pressed up against his body and helpless. You feel for a weapon. There is a hammer on that table but it's just out of your reach. Your fingers dance on the edge of the handle without coming close to getting a grip on it. //I can't die here. Not to him and not like this. Not like this.// //"Psy-activity is a door. Things enter it, things walk out of it. Anything that can happen to you, you can potentially make happen to somebody else," Ambrose said to you on the first day. "Don't ever make the mistake of seeing it as a form of weakness. It's only a weakness if that's what you make it into."// //"Use your attacker's momentum against him."// //When you shift, you're helpless. You can't move, you can't think. The enemy controls you and you control jack shit.// //Make him control jack shit. Make him fucking fly.// You focus on him harder than he's ever been focused on before. You look him straight in his eyes and you hit him with everything you have. You can feel the blood starting to pool in your tearducts and you don't even let it bother you. You keep hitting, over and over again. His face starts to deform, the way pilots do in those g-force centrifuges. You keep going. Harder and harder and harder until - //What the fuck? What is this? Why am I a girl? Am I.... Am I this girl? Am I looking at myself? My face is dopey and my eyes are gone, like I'm unconscious or something. I'm not dopey though. I mean, she's not dopey. She's conscious. And she pulls her hands off of her neck and she grabs something and-// The sculpting hammer connects with McElroy's jaw with a sickening crunch and he goes down hard. A spray of his blood hits your face and you hear at least two teeth hitting the white resin floor. He's still conscious. A teardrop shaped pool of blood has already gathered where his mouth was. He tries to get up but you pull him up by the nape and hit him again with the hammer, breaking his other jaw. That puts him down. You toss the hammer away and pick your gun up off the floor. .... 1:12 A.M. You and Stanton showed up as quickly as you could manage but the local cops and the medics got there first. McElroy was conscious and secured to a table with a zip tie; jaws busted, but still very much alive. Cyra was immediately taken aside to be looked at by the paramedics on the scene. Stanton convinced the responding officers to let him be the arresting officer and as no other detectives were present, they acceded. "Peter McElroy, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent...." Meanwhile, you ran over to Cyra to make sure she was okay. You found her wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the edge of an open ambulance. "Some minor lacerations and she took aerosol tear gas to the face but there aren't any serious injuries. She's a tough one. You take good care of her," said the paramedic. [[Are you okay?]]

"I'm okay. Just a bit exhausted. Thank you." She smiles. "I know I screwed up." [[Don't worry about that right now. I'm just glad you're okay.]]

"And I'm glad you were there for me. Not everyone would have been." [[Cyra, you figure out that it was McElroy before I did, didn't you?]]

"It actually seems like we both got it around the same time," she says, "You were already at his house when I called." [[I talked to Ambrose. He thinks you're starting to get your abilities under control. And we both thought that, maybe, if you agreed to never to lie to me again, you might be able to come back to training.]]

"Thank you Six. That means so much to me," she says. "But I can't. I can't do the work. I'm not a ghostfinder and I'm not right for the program." [[You're perfect for the program.]]

"Running off into a trap with no back-up? That's your idea of being perfect for the program?" A uni approaches you. "Detective Stanton needs to speak with you. It looks like there might be a bit of a jurisdiction conflict." "Sounds like you're needed, ghostfinder," says Cyra. [[We're not done talking about this.]]

You walk over to the entrance of the arts building, where a large, pink-faced fed is making his displeasure known to Stanton in colorful language. "Do either of you dumbfucks realize what you've just done?" "Catch an infamous serial killer? Because that's what it looks like to me." "You just stuck your dick into an on-going federal investigation you stupid fuck." "And I imagine I'll get chewed out for that. Chewed out pretty good, with some colorful language even." "You think this is funny don't you?" [[Hey, this man just took care of your problem for you. Have a little respect.]]

The fed scoffs. "You're the ghostfinder right? Aren't you assholes supposed to poke around into haunted houses and shit like that instead of dicking around in other people's jobs?" "Okay, that's enough. If you have a problem with what we did tonight, call my superiors and make a complaint. I'm sure they'll listen to you. Otherwise, this is still an active crime scene. Please throw your tantrum somewhere else." "This isn't over." The fed walks away. "I swear, there's like an asshole test you need to take before you get a job at the FID. It's like they don't even hire people that aren't at least 40% asshole." [[You gonna be okay?]]

"Six, we just caught the fuckin' Bay Side Killer. I'm going to be fine. How's Cyra?" [[She's fine, physically.]]

"Hey. Thanks for everything. Seriously. You did the impossible. I'm so glad you came." He gives you a firm hug. "I owe you beer. Call me literally whenever." You go back to where Cyra was only to realize that she isn't there anymore. You ask around. There was a young woman, black hair, pale. Has anyone seen her? "One of the officers drove her back to the station to take her statement," says a cop, "It sounded like she's the one who caught this guy." Yeah. That's what it would sound like. [[THE END]]

"Thank you, but I think I'm okay. It's just another suspect. Might pan out, might not." The Turners live in a small bungalow style home at the remote edge of the Ralston suburbs. Mike's father, an elderly retired man in his sixties, comes out to greet you, letting you in without even bothering to ask who you are. He promises to have Mike speak with you, which he makes good on over his son's considerable protests. "Hello Mike," says Cyra, "We've never met before, but my name is Cyra. I was a friend of Janine." "Sorry to hear that," he says, "You guys feds or something?" "Ghostfinders." "What? You think like, a monster killed those people?" "Well, it's a monster, though probably not the kind you're thinking of," she says. "I lost two of the most important women in my life. If you find him, kill him for me," says Turner. [[You were conclusively alibied for one of the killings.]]

"Yeah, I was. And like I said to the cops, if you really think I'm the kind of animal that would rape and murder his own sister, you should just pull that gun out right now and fucking shoot me," says Turner. "We're not here to throw around accusations Mike. I believe you. I know you would never hurt anyone," says Cyra. You can sense Mike's demeanor softening somewhat. The sincerity of Cyra's words seem to have an effect. "What do you wanna know, then?" "Is it possible that one of your friends could have hurt Janine? Between the time you left and came back, I mean." "What? Pete? Jordan? No way. Why the hell would they?" [[One of your friends say that your sister was scared of you.]]

"Oh, that's bullshit. My sister loved me, and I loved her. Yeah, I'm a fuckup, I know that. But she was always there for me, always. She was there for me when I got fired from my job back in 2016. She was there last year in October, when I got arrested and she bailed me out. She was my family, man." "So why would your friend say that?" "I don't know! Fuck him! Tell me who said it so I can go fucking beat his ass." [[Let's get back to your alibi. The barcade. Do you go there often?]]

"No, I actually only went there one time before. Around March last year, I think. With a couple of friends," he says. "Which friends?" says Cyra. "Pete, and some guy he knew and his girlfriend. Pete goes there a lot to see shows and stuff, and he wanted us to enter this arcade tournament. Then I went again in April this year with some other friends. We stayed there all night man, it was great." "Mike, I need you to think very carefully. Could anyone you know have done this? Were either your sister or Janine being threatened by anyone?" says Cyra. Mike takes a moment to think. For a second, it seems like he might be ready to say something. Then he gives up. "No. I don't know." [[Friends? Coworkers? Exes?]]

"Other than yourself, I mean," says Cyra. "My sister wasn't really dating. Too busy with work. I'm the opposite. Haven't had a job since three years ago." "When you got fired." "Yeah. And like I said, all my friends are good people. I don't know why one of them would say Miriam was scared of me, but I can't see any of them killing anyone." [[Thank you Michael. Cyra, do you have anything else you'd like to ask?]]

"No, I think we're done here." The drive back is silent for about ten minutes, before Cyra says something. "It's not him. He was telling the truth," she says. [[I don't like him for it either.]]

"It doesn't feel like we're getting anywhere." [[It'll come. I promise.]]

"Thanks for helping me anyway. I think I've said it before, maybe, but it means a lot." [[Return|Central Hub]]

//You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and allow yourself to enter a state of meditative concentration. You forget reason, and allow your pure instinct - honed to perfection through years of training - to guide your thoughts.// (Stuck? Not able to figure out what to do next? Use your Ghostfinder Instinct to intuit leads and clues to help move the case forward! Your instincts will attain new insights as you move through the game, so check back any time you need that extra bit of help!) [[Instinctive Revelation 1]] (if: $redhead is 1) [ [[Instinctive Revelation 2]] ] (if: $cyracall is 1) [ [[Instinctive Revelation 3]] ] (if: $burglarinstinct is 1) [ [[Instinctive Revelation 4]] ] [[Return|Central Hub]]

Early in the investigation, it probably behooves you to follow Ambrose's advice, and start by searching up every name you possibly can. Start with the victims' names, read everything you've been given by Stanton, read all of the journal entries, and try to look out for names that seem to recur as you move through the investigative process. [[Return|Ghostfinder Instinct]]

There's something about the April 2, 2019 entry that catches your attention, for some reason. You should make a mental note of where a young woman with freckles makes an appearance in this story. [[Return|Ghostfinder Instinct]]

Was the killer sitting in a basement? Basements are not a common household feature in the area. Make a mental note of this. [[Return|Ghostfinder Instinct]]

The major employer of Calernia is that refinery... If Stanton is right, and the Burglar is also BSK... Is it possible that you're looking at someone who had ties to the refinery? [[Return|Ghostfinder Instinct]]

//This is your notepad. There are many like it, but this one is yours. Here, you will find information that you've collected throughout the course of your investigation. Can't remember someone's name? Need to jog your memory to help remember a conversation, or details about a person of interest? Come back here to check!// [Cast of Characters:]<c1| (click: ?c1)[ [[Cyra Malkmus]] [[Ambrose]] (if: $miriamclue is 1) [ [[Miriam Turner]] ] (if: $mikaylaclue is 1) [ [[Mikayla Thompson|Mikayla Note]] ] (if: $alisonclue is 1) [ [[Alison Brown|Alison Note]] ] (if: $juliaclue is 1) [ [[Julia Smith|Julia Note]] ] (if: $emilyclue is 1) [ [[Emily Raines|Emily Note]] ] (if: $janineclue is 1) [ [[Janine Harris|Janine Note]] ] (if: $janineclue is 1) [ [[Mike Turner|Mike Note]] ] (if: $janineclue is 1) [ [[Peter McElroy|Peter Note]] ] (if: $janineclue is 1) [ [[Jordan Stark|Jordan Note]] ] (if: $tesmanclue is 1) [ [[Robert Tesman|Tesman Note]] ] (if: $tesmanclue is 1) [ [[Kristin Boyd|Boyd Note]] ] (if: $lindsayclue is 1) [ [[Lindsay McMillan|Lindsay Note]] ] (if: $irwin is 1) [ [[Caden Irwin|Caden Note]] ] (if: $cyracall is 1) [ [[Steve Alvers|Steve Note]] ] (if: $burglarinstinct is 1) [ [[Alyssa Winder]] ] (if: $burglarinstinct is 1) [ [[Clayton Rogers|Clayton Note]] ] (if: $burglarinstinct is 1) [ [[John Bellows]] ] (if: $claytonconvo is 1) [ [[Nate Smith|Nate Note]] ] (if: $nateconvo is 1) [ [[Ed Silverman|Ed Note]] ] (if: $burglarinstinct is 1) [ [[Howard Linton]] ] (if: $burglarinstinct is 1) [ [[Andrea Linton]] ] (if: $myravalue is 1) [ [[Myra Cannon|Myra Note]] ]] [Important Conversations:]<c2| (click: ?c2)[ (if: $winslowffclue is 1) [ [[Viewer conversation.]] ] (if: $cyracall is 1) [ [[Cyra's latest vision|Cyra Conversation]] ] (if: $barconvo is 1) [ [[Conversation with a bartender.|Bartender Convo]] ] (if: $starkconvo is 1) [ [[Conversation with Jordan Stark|Stark Convo]] ] (if: $peteconvo is 1) [ [[Conversation with Pete McElroy|Pete Convo]] ] (if: $claytonconvo is 1) [ [[Conversation with Clayton Rogers|Clayton Convo]] ] (if: $nateconvo is 1) [ [[Conversation with Nate Smith|Nate Convo]] ] (if: $steveconvo is 1) [ [[Conversation with Steve Alvers|Steve Convo]] ] (if: $cyracall is 1) [ [[Conversation with Caden Irwin|Caden Convo]] ] (if: $myravalue is 1) [ [[Conversation with Myra Cannon|Myra Convo]] ] (if: $burgerconvo is 1) [ [[Burger Assault Conversation|Burger Convo]] ]] [Important Evidence:]<c3| (click: ?c3)[ (if: $boydclue is 1) [ [["Lindsay M"?|Boyd and Lindsay]] ] (if: $barcadegame is 1) [ [["Space Racer"?]] ] (if: $hotelclue is 1) [ [[Mira Monet Hotel|Hotel Clue]] ] (if: $mikaylaclue is 1) [ [[Stolen Bicycle]] ] (if: $alisonclue is 1) [ [[Size 10.5 Boots]] ] (if: $alisonclue is 1) [ [[Station X567]] ] (if: $juliaclue is 1) [ [[The Unseen|Unseen Note]] ] (if: $janineclue is 1) [ [[The Three Impostors|Impostor Note]] ] (if: $pizzavalue is >= 2) [ [[Spaceman Pizza|Pizza Evidence]] ] (if: $burgervalue is >= 3)[ [[Burger Assault|Burger Evidence]] ] (if: $refineryvalue is >=3) [ [[Calernia Petroleum Refinery|Refinery Note]] ]] [[Return|Central Hub]]

A young initiate in the Fraternal Order of Ghost-Finders. All aspiring ghostfinders spend many years, starting from childhood or adolescence, being educated and instructed in the ghostfinder ways before graduating from aspirant to initiate, whereupon they shadow a ghostfinder in the field as apprentices. Cyra helped you close a case, and proved herself a capable detective. However, she is a powerful psychic, and you've always been worried that she may not be able to control her abilities. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

A senior ghostfinder and your erstwhile mentor. Ambrose is an old hand who's been there and seen it all. Like all ghostfinders, he exclusively uses an assumed name that was assigned to him upon becoming a full-fledged ghostfinder. Just as you are now only known as Six, he is only known as Ambrose. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

The first Bay Side Killer victim. Worked at a tech outlet called "The Viewer"... Your instinct tells you that her physical description is something you should keep in mind. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Mikalya Thompson, the second BSK victim. You are positive that this is the woman seen performing with a live band in one of Cyra's visions. Perhaps finding out the name of this venue would aid in your investigation. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Alison Brown, victim number three. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Julia Smith, victim number four. Hm, that's interesting. She's the second victim where snowboarding makes an appearance as a "theme". [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Emily Raines, victim number five. Not a lot going on here. Poor girl. Poor housemates. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Victim number six, Janine Harris. This one had a suspect right away: Mike Turner, younger brother of victim number one, Miriam Turner. The timing window //just// allows him to remain a viable suspect, you realize, although not by much. That night, he was out with two friends: Pete McElroy and Jordan Stark. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

You visited the office of "The Viewer", the tech news site where Miriam worked. You were pretty sure that you were walking away with nothing, then a young man who used to be Miriam's supervisor stopped you, and you had this exchange: //Supervisor: "The one really noticeable thing about Miriam was that she was anal about time. She got agitated if you were late by a second. She showed up to everything an hour early. Except that day. She was late to show up by an hour. Apparently, there was this huge traffic caused by some food festival happening in Winslow Creek." Cyra: "Food festival?" Supervisor: "Yeah, you know, the city had all these food trucks and vendors come out, it was a big event. Some of the local restaurants would set up stands. But it caused some congestion so she ended up calling me in the middle of traffic. I had to calm her down, told her it wasn't a big deal." Cyra: "So she was late because a food festival caused traffic." Supervisor: "Yeah, but isn't it a bit weird that she died on the same day she was late to something for the first time? There's this big festival thing and that's the day it happens?"// There was a big food festival in Winslow Creek that day. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Kristin Boyd was one of Mikayla Thompson's roommates, and was present on the night of her murder. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Robert Tesman was one of Mikayla Thompson's roommates, and was present on the night of her murder. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Kristin Boyd was an avid snow sports enthusiast, it seems, and you find a picture online of her posing with someone only identified as "Lindsay M.". [[Return|Access your notepad]]

On March 4, 2018, Cyra had a vision where someone played an arcade game called "Space Racer" at a barcade of some sort. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

One of the last things Alison Brown did was attend a conference at a "Mira Monet Hotel". [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Lindsay McMillan was one of Emily's housemates. Before becoming a graphics designer, she was part of the navy reserve. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Caden Irwin was a former server at Spaceman Pizza, who possibly knows more about the killings than the proprietor. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Shortly after your talk with Caden Irwin, Cyra revealed that the Bay Side Killer had called her. She deliberately induced a brief shift vision: //Cyra: "May 7, 2019. I shifted. Into whom, I didn't know at the time. He was sitting in a basement, it was set up like a recreational room, and he was watching television. That's it, that's all that happened." "Then, this morning, I shifted. Same basement rec room. I even went back into my memory to check. It's him. That's where he lives." Ambrose: "But you didn't see his face so it doesn't help us, does it?" Cyra: "No, but it's something right? It's one more thing we have today we didn't have yesterday."// Maybe you were too hard on her. Maybe you should have been more understanding. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Steve Alvers is an audio engineer, who was identified by Caden Irwin as having been a former friend of Mikayla Thompson. Perhaps you should look him up. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Mike Turner is the younger brother of Miriam Turner, the Bay Side Killer's first confirmed victim. He is, currently, the closest thing the investigation has to a prime suspect. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Peter McElroy is a friend of Mike Turner, who was with him on the night of Janine Harris's murder. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Jordan Stark is a friend of Mike Turner, who was with him on the night of Janine Harris's murder. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

The Bay Side Killer arrived at Mikayla Thompson's house on a bicycle that the police believe was probably stolen. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

When the killer murdered Alison Brown, he left footprints that the police believe came from a military boot, rarely seen in civilian possession. The killer is also now confirmed to wear size 10.5. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

A discontinued pump station, which the killer knew would provide the perfect cover for his movement. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Julia Smith's parents were stuck in traffic due to the filming of a TV show called "The Unseen". [[Return|Access your notepad]]

The dive bar where Janine worked. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Jordan Stark is a slacker, who works part-time as a night guard at a museum in Ralston. He's fairly welcoming, and invites you into his home without much guff. "I pretty much told the police what I knew. We went to see a show, then we got invited to the afterparty. I knew the guitarist from high school. Then once we got there, we sort of lost each other. I can't really remember if Mike left or if he was still there the whole time. I was pretty drunk, man," he says. "Do you know Mike well?" asks Cyra. "Reasonably. We met a few years ago at an arcade, and we're both really into older arcade games, so we hit it off and we've been hanging out a lot since," says Jordan. "Do you think that he might have killed his sister?" "You mean, 'do I think he's the Bay Side Killer', right? That's what you wanna ask?" He chuckles. "I'm pretty sure he's not. Although, who knows? I've been wrong about people before." "So you didn't tell the police that Miriam was frightened of him?" (set: $progress to $progress +1) "Wasn't me," he says. (set: $starkconvo to 1) [[Return|Central Hub]]

When you visited the Three Impostors, the bar where Janine had worked, a bartender there treated you to this brief exchange: //You: "Were there any men in her life who were threatening towards her?" Bartender: "I mean, there was Mike. But that was all pretty much over by the time it happened. Mike Turner was Miriam Turner's younger brother and Miriam was the second BSK victim, but I'm guessing you already knew that." You: "You don't find it interesting that Mike's a suspect in two of the BSK killing?" Bartender: "Look, I knew Mike. He used to come in here a lot. He was a dumb, dumb kid and he said and did a lot of stupid things. But I just don't see him as a murderer." You: "What about his sister?" Bartender: "Miriam loved that kid. They weren't always on the best terms, but they were still family. She took care of him when he needed it." You: "Anything unusual happen that night?" Bartender: "It was karaoke night. We close at 2 on weekends but Janine left a bit early on account of a migraine. Other than that, nothing really. It was just a perfectly normal average night for us."// [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Jordan Stark, one of Mike Turner's friends who were with him on the night of Janine Harris's murder, had this to say: //Jordan: "I pretty much told the police what I knew. We went to see a show, then we got invited to the afterparty. I knew the guitarist from high school. Then once we got there, we sort of split up. I can't really remember if Mike left or if he was still there the whole time. I was pretty drunk, man," he says. Cyra: "Do you know Mike well?" Jordan: "Reasonably. We met a few years ago at an arcade, and we're both really into older arcade games, so we hit it off and we've been hanging out a lot since," says Jordan. Cyra: "Do you think that he might have killed his sister?" Jordan: "You mean, 'do I think he's the Bay Side Killer', right? That's what you wanna ask? I'm pretty sure he's not. Although, who knows? I've been wrong about people before." Cyra: "So you didn't tell the police that Miriam was frightened of him? Jordan: "Wasn't me."// [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Pete McElroy, one of Mike Turner's friends who were with him on the night of Janine Harris's murder, had this to say: //Pete: "Look, Mike's not a bad guy. He has some issues but I don't think he would actually hurt anyone. I just told the police what Miriam told me." You: "Do you remember if he left the party early?" Pete: "We went to the party together. Then we sort of split up, started talking with other people. I ran into some people I knew and we just hung out. I lost sight of Mike." You: "And you left the party before Mike came back?" Pete: "Yes, I did." You: "How did you know Mike?" Pete: "From middle school, before he moved away. He also works - or worked, he quit recently - at Burger Assault. Before that, he was at the refinery in Calernia with me for a little bit. He's the one that got me the catering job, actually, a couple years ago, which was great because I fucking hated the refinery." You: "When did Mike quit the catering job?" Peter: "A bit after his sister died." You: "You said you told the police what Miriam told you." Peter: "She said he was threatening to kill her, leaving angry voicemails on her phone. I don't remember the details, but I know they were mad at each other for a while, family history, you know how it can be."// [[Return|Access your notepad]]

The last "Calernia Burlgar" victim. The first "Bay Side Killer" victim? [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Alyssa Winder's ex, and a major suspect in her murder before being cleared by law enforcement. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

There is hardly any information about Alyssa online. Her social media presence shows some of her friends and loved ones mourning her, but other than that, nothing that could you further the investigation. [[Return|Central Hub]]

The man who supposedly murdered Alyssa Winder. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

John Bellows is still sitting in a maximum security prison. Unless he's some sort of superhuman, it's a pretty safe bet that he's not the Bay Side Killer. [[Return|Central Hub]]

A friend of Clayton Rogers, who were among those who alibied him for the murder of Alyssa Winder. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

You visited Clayton Rogers, Alyssa Winder's ex-boyfriend. You two had this conversation: //Clayton: "It's about the Bay Side Killer, isn't it? Look, they got the wrong guy. Bellows? That's not him. He's still out there except they're calling him the Bay Side Killer now... Alyssa and I broke up two days before she died. I told her everything, got tired of living the double life. She didn't really understand it. I guess you probably also know about the friend I was with that night?" You: "Yes." Clayton: "His name is Nate Smith. He once told me he knew one of the BSK victims or something."// [[Return|Access your notepad]]

You and Nate Smith, a friend of Clayton Rogers, had this conversation: //Nate: "I knew one of the victims's cousins. This guy named Ed Silverman I went to high school with? We were pretty close and his cousin was Julia Smith. I didn't know her too well but I knew they were close and hung out a lot with the same friends. And she did very briefly entered my social circle last year." You: "Please explain." Nate: "I work at this burger place called Burger Assault and late last year, I was at a food festival in Tannersville working a stand because we go to every single one of those fucking things. While I was there, I ran into an old friend of mine named Caden who was working at this Ralston pizza place called Spaceman Pizza. I knew he worked there because I used to go there with my friends from time to time but I wasn't expecting to run into him. I introduced him to my friend, Pete, who worked with me when I was at the refinery in Calernia in 2016 before I quit, and Caden teased him a little for working for a burger place even though he's a vegan. It turned out Caden and Pete sort of knew each other and that's when they mentioned Julia." You: "What did they say about Julia?" Nate: "Pete said he went snowboarding a lot with a mutual friend named Steve, and that Julia was part of the group. I knew Pete knew Ed too so that wasn't shocking or anything." You: "He didn't say anything else?" Nate: "No, that's all he said."// [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Ed Silverman, a cousin of Julia Smith, one of the BSK victims. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

You and Steve Alvers, a recording engineer and an erstwhile acquaintance of Mikayla Thompson, had this conversation: //Cyra: "How exactly did you know Julia?" Steve: "Me and a couple of my friends are part of a group that does a lot of snowboarding together. Winter sports people, you know? We go up to Lake Khaine once or twice a year, thrice if we're lucky. Julia was part of our group." Cyra: "You also worked with Mikayla Thompson." Steve: "Yeah, so I guess I'm linked to two victims. Cops talked to me. I guess maybe I was a suspect for a while. I'm pretty sure they cleared me though, on account of me having a rock solid alibi for the Alison Brown murder." Cyra: "Is that right?" Steve: "I was working an all-nighter, right here at the studio. A dozen different people can speak for me." Cyra: "How did this snowboarding group get started?" Steve: "One of my friends is a guy named Caden, who works at Spaceman Pizza. We met when I was working PA for a band's gig there one time and he said he liked snowboarding. He brought up that he and his friends Jordan and Kristin were going to a trip with him and invited me so I said yes. Then the trip after that I ended up inviting my friend Pete and he invited Julia." Cyra: "Was there anyone at all in this group or close to it that you'd be suspicious of?" Steve: "Nobody at all." Cyra: "Absolutely no one?" Steve: "Well, I mean, aside from the core group people we would occasionally bring other people over too. But I don't think any of them were suspicious or anything either." Cyra: "Who were some of these other people?" Steve: "Jordan's cousin Robert tagged along once or twice. Robert was also Mikayla's roommate. Pete once brought his girlfriend way back in December a couple years ago. I think her name was Lindsay, or something like that? She was this freckled girl, with red hair. And I once invited my neighbor - I live up in Winslow Creek - but he moved away long before all this stuff happened."// [[Return|Access your notepad]]

You and Caden Irwin, a Spaceman Pizza employee, had this conversation: //Caden: "I actually didn't know any of the victims. I mean, kind of. I knew Mikayla a little. But my friend Steve knew her better." You: "Steve?" Caden: "Yeah, Steve Alvers. He's a recording and sound engineer and he works at this studio in Ralston. We went to high school together and I remember he worked a lot with Mikayla's band in and out of the studio on gigs and stuff like that." You: "Let's get back to Spaceman Pizza for a moment because I understand that several of the victims were regulars there." Caden: "I don't know, really. I recognized a couple of them but they weren't really directly known to me or anything. Steve might know more than me, honestly."// [[Return|Access your notepad]]

If you haven't already, you should definitely look into Spaceman Pizza at some point. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Burger Assault seems to be a name that just keeps popping up. You should look into it, if you haven't already. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Howard Linton is the husband of Andrea Linton, a woman who was sexually assaulted by the Calernia Burglar. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Andrea Linton is a woman who was sexually assaulted by the Calernia Burglar. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

You spoke to a young woman named Myra Cannon when you tried to get ahold of the Lintons. She's probably not, by herself, a person of interest, but the conversation you had was interesting. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

You had this conversation with Myra Cannon: //Myra: "Are you guys cops?" Cyra: "We work with the police." Myra: "This is about what happened with the Lintons isn't it?" Cyra: "Yes, it is. We were hoping to ask some questions." Myra: "I already told the other cops everything I know." Cyra: "Well, we'd appreciate it if you could go over everything just one more time." The young woman introduces herself as Myra Cannon, a 22 year old student at a local community college studying biochemistry. About a month before the attack on the Lintons, she began to feel "watched". On her daily jogs around town, she would constantly see a yellow truck that she'd never seen before. Initially, this went unnoticed and she did not make the connection until neighbors started noticing a strange man prowling around her house. The man was too quick for anyone to get a good look other than that he was probably a young white male. Frightened and fearing that the Calernia Burglar was about, Cannon called the police and they dispatched an officer to routinely patrol the area. Shortly after this, all prowling activity ceased for a few days before the Lintons were attacked. Myra: "It was that man. It was the man who was watching me, I know it was. He knew I was on to him so he decided to attack my neighbors instead. And I felt so much time feeling like, like I was responsible somehow. Like it was my fault." Cyra: "What happened wasn't your fault." You: "So you never got a good look at the man?" Myra: "No, I didn't." Cyra: "Do you think that someone else in this neighborhood might have?" Myra: "Probably not. The other cops already asked everyone."// [[Return|Access your notepad]]

The Calernia Petroleum Refinery seems to come up a lot. It may be something to look into, and keep in mind as you investigate. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

You spoke to Mr. Sherman, the owner of Burger Assault. He was extremely reluctant to tell you anything, but did let slip that Burger Assault shows up to a lot of food festivals. This could be crucial. [[Return|Access your notepad]]

Thank you for playing "Ghostfinder: Shift" to its conclusion! If you liked this game at all, please share it with anyone you know who might also enjoy it! For any inquiries, I can be reached at MobyDickAteMyLeg on itch.io and intfiction.org. I am always open to collaboration, chatting, or answering questions so don't be shy! CREDITS: Written and Created by Han-Joo Kim Special Thanks To: Silas from "Ex Post Geek" for his wonderful Harlowe text input tutorial! Without it, Ghostfinder would have remained a distant fantasy. I don't think his blog is very active, but here it is: https://exgeekfacto.blogspot.com/ Note that Silas did not directly work on my game. My dear friend Lizbeth Banales for playing it to completion and providing some wonderful beta feedback. Thanks Liz! Several other courageous beta testers who asked not to be credited directly. Your name might not be here, but you know who you are, and you have my gratitude!

"You're telling me. Chief's been trying to block it from day one, but it's not holding. Public outrage alone is turning into a PR clusterfuck. So whatever this is, you don't have a lot of time to dig into it before the secret agent men start showing up." [[Thank you for sharing this with me. I owe you one.]]

"Yeah, no kidding. Chief's been cockblocking it from day one, but that's obviously not gonna hold. Public outrage alone is turning into a PR clusterfuck. So whatever this is, you don't have a lot of time to dig into it before the secret agent men start showing up." [[Thank you for sharing this with me. I owe you one.]]

"No, I don't." [[Then what were you doing there on the night of her murder?|Please stop dancing around the issue and just tell me what happened.]]

Cyra takes a deep breath. "I'm a shifter. I shifted into someone who was watching her that night. I got worried." You feel your heart drop to your stomach. //Shifter.// A shifter is a rare type of psy-active that involuntarily enters periodic trances, during which time they assume the perspective of another person and see what they see, feel, and hear in that moment. It is entirely possible to train oneself so that these periodic "shifts" to not occur, but until then, a shifter cannot be trusted to operate heavy machinery or perform any duty that cannot risk the performer losing consciousness, even for a few seconds at a time. [[How long has this been happening?]]

"Are they going to catch him?" [[I don't know.]]

"Because I owe my friend justice! I owe her that. Do you know who she was to me? She was the closest thing I had for a long time to a family! She was there for me when nobody else cared. I cried on her shoulders when nobody else was around. She didn't deserve to get tied up and raped and murdered by that piece of shit and if I don't do something about it, I will never be able to look myself in the mirror again and see someone I respect. Please. Please tell me that that's something that you can understand. Please tell me that." .... [[One case. This case. As soon as it's done, you're out.]]

"I owe my friend justice! I owe her that. Do you know who she was to me? She was the closest thing I had for a long time to a family! She was there for me when nobody else cared. I cried on her shoulders when nobody else was around. She didn't deserve to get tied up and raped and murdered by that piece of shit and if I don't do something about it, I will never be able to look myself in the mirror again and see someone I respect. Please. Please tell me that that's something that you can understand. Please tell me that." .... [[One case. This case. As soon as it's done, you're out.]]

"It'll take some time. But she'll get there, eventually." Ambrose walks a few feet forward to lean up against the railing that overlooks the parking lot. He lets out a short sigh. "How do you like our odds of closing this thing?" he asks. [[Honestly? Not much.]]