CLOSED CIRCUIT.

I was heavily intoxicated as I drove in the wee hours of the night while heavy metal music blasted in my ears. I was too drunk to notice a silhouette standing in the middle of the dark road and before I could slam the brakes, I had already hit the figure. I stepped out of my car to examine the damage but the darkness was all too much with the shattered headlights so I gave up quickly and left. The following morning, I remembered what I had done, though in a haze. I returned to where the accident took place, hoping to find a deer carcass or some animal laying dead. But when I arrived, there was nothing. Just a pool of dried blood. Maybe it was just an injured deer that strolled away to somewhere else. But whatever it was, I was somewhat reassured that I hadn’t killed it.

As I worked on my case, the phone rang and my inside man told me they’d found something regarding the killer that I had been obsessing about –That he killed his latest victim on 456 Avenue here in Golam. On a stretch of road covered only with trees. That the blood found there matched that of a girl reported missing years ago. Just then, I realized that she was the figure I ran over the previous night. Which also meant that the killer was close by the whole time. And must have seen me drive off.

I hung up the phone abruptly while also trying to keep my composure. But I thought about nothing. I couldn’t think. Then I heard this peculiar ringtone. One that I’d never heard for decades. It sounded like a burner phone. But no one ever used those phones anymore. I remembered how untraceable they were back in the day, and how untraceable they still are. And those were illegal here in Golam. I followed the sound to my bed beneath my pillows, where I occasionally left half-filled glass bottles of liquor for my late-night treat. The phone’s screen read “No caller ID” and this sent shivers down my spine. I picked up the phone.

“ Who is this,” I asked, with bated breath.

“Oh, there you are…found our little gift?” Said the distorted voice on the other side.

“Who are you?” I asked again, growing impatient.

“Oh, detective, detective. You need to calm down. You almost blew my cover yesterday, you know that?” The voice said, so calmly, it sounded soothing yet scary.

“You are that killer…you stupid son of a…”

“Okay, now hold on. Don’t be rude Jonathan. I think very highly of you, JONATHAN!” The voice said, almost losing its temper.

I shuddered at the realization that the killer knew my name, where I lived and saw me yesterday having run over the girl and driven off. What else did he know?

“Okay, this should be simple…” instructed the voice, “You will need to deliver something to me from the Golam Police Department, okay?”

I was still stunned. So I lowered the phone to hang up.

“Ah, Ah, Ah…I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Johnny.” said the voice through the phone. Immediately, my photos from yesternight began streaming into my other phone that lay on the kitchen counter strewn with beer bottles and empty pizza boxes.

“What is wrong with you? What do you want, huh?” I said, frustrated.

“Oh and there she is. You didn’t tell me you had a daughter, Johnny.”

“What? Where…”

“I see her coming to your apartment. Oh…and she’s with a boy…Is that your grandson? Beautiful, beautiful…you know I could make sure she never sees you again. Would you like that, Johnny?”

I looked outside the window and saw Nina walking across the street towards my building carrying her son. I began sweating.

“Don’t touch them. Tell me what you want,” I yielded.

“Mhmm, what I want is the key to the Quantum Dome. Get it for me and you salvage the last of your remaining dignity.” Just then, the line cut off.

I was still holding the phone in my hand, my mind racing with anxious thoughts. How could I have been so careless? Did the Syllic killer know that I had always been following his scent for years now even though all I achieved was dead-end after dead-end?

I was so occupied with my raging thoughts that I didn’t hear the doorbell ring.

“Oh hey dad,” Said Nina, “I thought you weren’t in…Are you okay?” She asked, glancing around the room, seeing the hot mess it was in and the piles of documents all titled ‘The Syllic Killer’ lying all over the shelves and on the floor–there was hardly any space to walk on.

“Dad. are you still looking for the ghost killer after all this time? Why don’t you just stop and come home?” She said, concerned about my disqueted state.

“No. I’m fine, sweetie. I’m just close to finding him, that’s all.” like a broken record,I told her what I always did when she asked. Only this time, I actually believed what I said.

“You were close to finding him 10 years ago…you know he was the reason you lost your job at the PD, right? Just forget all this and come home with us. Liam needs you.” She said, urgingly, while gesturing at the young boy scribbling away at my old files on the couch.

But I couldn’t budge. Not now, when the Syllic Killer had reached out wanting my help. All I needed was to think. To think about how I would catch him.

And so like always, I made up an excuse and made sure to talk about how I’d bring Liam the glasses that could magnify sub-atomic particles to replace the ones he broke last Christmas. Just like that, Nina walked out the door.

Immediately, I phoned Neill, my inside man in the department.

“Hey, I need a favor from you.”

“Well my day was great, how was yours?” Neill said, sounding exhausted.

“This is important. Syllic just called.”

“Hey, if you are passed out in a ditch somewhere I can come get you…”

“No, I’m not. I’m telling you, he called me and he wants me to get something for him from the department.”

“Okay, first of all, why would he call YOU? And second, do you think he’s that careless to just reveal himself after all these years of playing phantom? And to a DETECTIVE of all people? You know that…”

“He wants the key to the Quantum Dome.” I blurted out, silencing Neill who knew for a fact that no one without access to the innards of the department would have possibly known about it.

I continued, to ease the silence, “I don’t know what that is but he said it’s in the Department. And you work there so I need your help…”

“No.” Said Neill with finality.

“What? Why not? What is that?”

“I can’t talk now,” Neill said and hung up before I could say anything else.

I left the Golam PD close to 10 years ago when the killer was nicknamed Syllic after his most gruesome murders involving some microchips he implanted remotely in people’s brains malfunctioned. The chips had the name ‘Syllic’ engraved onto them. That was the only thing I knew for sure from my investigations. One thing that was superbly clear was that Syllic was one deranged scientist who was always steps ahead of the police, especially me, who was given the case but failed to solve it despite the numerous murders that Syllic was suspected to be involved in. So they had to let me go to keep up appearances.

But now the ghost had come back to haunt me and the key was the only to finally catch him. But how would I pull that off when Syllic could also damn me if he wanted?

An entire day had passed and still, nothing came to mind. I was panicking. How could I find the key to something I knew nothing about? My phone rang. It was Neill. I scrambled to pick it up, figuring he had found something.

‘You got something for me?’ I asked anticipatively.

‘Tomorrow there will be a convention for every police department in the region. The forensic scientists will be there to assemble the lasts of the Quantum Dome.’

‘Well, what is the Quantum Dome?’ I inquired.

Neill paused before answering. ‘It’s a time machine.’

‘A time machine?’ I repeated while trying to figure out what a time machine had to do with Syllic. And why he wanted to access it that badly.

’Yes. I don’t know how he found out that we were creating one. But if he wants the key it must mean that he thinks we are on to him. With it, we can catch him before he kills more people. Maybe we can reverse the deaths if everything turns out as anticipated. But only one thing doesn’t add up. Why did he send you?... Jonathan? Does he have Nina?

I barely heard anything Neill said after ‘Time machine’ Could the Quantum Dome damn me also?

“How does the Time machine work?” I asked Neill

“Quantum Dome sources memory data from the chips found in some of the victims. Any sort of memory linking the subjects will be compared to create a simulation where the killer can be identified. The Time Machine component will have us see the past and future interactions with anyone he has been with or will be with. Meaning that anyone he shares a memory with might be stuck inside the simulation with him.”

“Wow” was the only thing that came out of my mouth.

Finally, the day dawned. I barely had any sleep sitting at my computer trying to log into my PNC in hopes of finding something about this convention. And as always, my domain was blocked. Neill said he would help me get inside the building but I wasn’t counting on it as much as I wanted to. The burner phone buzzed to life and a text message reading ‘Johnny, key.’ showed up for a minute, before it self-destructed.

Contrary to what I expected, Neill showed up at my door, dressed as sharply as he always did. For once, I was glad to see him. I had to do this, finish this.

Golam PD had barely changed ever since I left 10 years ago. The statue of Lincoln Brown still stood outside with a moldy bottom engraved ‘Officer Of Honor’. I’d always hated the thing and wondered why anyone would look at it and ever feel motivated. I, however, liked the way it reeked of piss. Oh, Golam! City of drinkers and pissers.

As it turned out, Neill was higher up in the ranks than where I left him so getting through security was the easy part.

We walked through the bright corridors, down a long-winded staircase and finally stopped at a laboratory door boldly written, ‘QD’ that stood more elegantly than the rest in the hallway.

“Well, this is you. See ya,” Said Neill, while handing me a spotless white lab coat and leaving me at the mercy of the scientists that were slowly filling the room.

“It’s almost done. Key?” Said one of the scientists to no one in particular. A young lady beside me fished out a hand-sized pyramid from a black briefcase, handing it over to her. If I had to take it, it had to be now. But I needed to know Syllic first.

So the key was fitted perfectly into one of the slots on the QD and we were transported back in time.

The year when it all began was 2020, when Syllic made the chips as a research tool to study the brain hence the mind. This study was unorthodox so he opted to execute his ideas by implanting these microchips remotely without the subjects’ knowledge. This would ensure the information he gathered was finely raw. To learn people’s behavior without them ever knowing. I had suspected it all along. Something must have gone wrong with the microchips to trigger the mass murders. The subjects didn’t die. They were the killers all along. And Syllic was trying to clean up the mess he made before anyone figured it out. So who was Syllic? Who was the ghost? The Quantum Dome sped up as the scientists and I basked in the revelation. But something was utterly wrong. I felt an out-of-body experience, like none that I’ve ever felt before. Like my mind detached from my body, though literally. I couldn’t hear the scientists anymore. Was this what Neill meant when he said that anyone sharing Syllic’s memories would be trapped in the simulation with him? That couldn’t be further from possible, could it?

Then emerged into my view.

“I really thought it’d work this time,” Said Syllic plainly. “Welcome back.”

“Who are you?” I ask, perturbed.

“I am you,” Syllic said, turning to face his stupefied doppelganger.