Cryptozoology. It didn’t take him too long to find several dedicated sites that provided him with a new world view. There were thousands of people out there who claimed to have seen things and animals that were not scientifically proven to exist. Usually, people were considered nutjobs and lunatics for such sightings. He would have joined the choir not too long ago. Yet, the world regularly forgot to apologize to those animals that turned out to be real. Cryptids, they were called. A fish considered extinct for millions of years. Giant squids.

Simon sighed and registered on the biggest site he could find. It was obligatory to even see the boards. Then he began to browse through them, looking for any German entry. There was none. Germans were not the kind of fantasy-loving nation to entertain a sweet fanaticism for Bigfoots or living dinosaurs. He decided to be the first one then. He created a new topic and called it Hamburg Subway Thing.

Sim1992

Hello everybody,

Me and my girlfriend saw a strange humanoid creature in the suburbs a few weeks ago. I could not forget it. Roughly humanoid with glowing eyes. Anybody know what this was?

Simon

The answer came pretty quickly.

NEOPHYTE

Got a photo?

Sim1992

No, regrettably I was too shocked to take a picture. I can describe it if necessary. I must say I looked through the site and found nothing comparable.

NEOPHYTE

Fake! Get off our site. This is for serious researchers of cryptozoology.

Sim1992

That is why I asked?

So, these guys were snobs? How interesting. In the next few hours, he got various theories on the whole thing. Ghouls were the most often stated idea.

Then he got a private message. It was five o´clock in the morning and the sun was going up. He opened it and yawned, and then thought of using his very un-ecological capsule coffee machine, but reminded himself that Alex was sleeping next door. He sighed and tried to focus his tired eyes.

STOP POSTING ABOUT IT. FORGET ABOUT IT.

The user was called BuenosAires202020.

He shook his head and wrote back.

HAVE YOU SEEN IT?

The answer came right away.

YES. STOP POSTING. IT WILL KILL ANYONE WHO FINDS IT.

Simon leaned back and realized who he might talk to.

SANDRA?

He asked and hit the send button.

SANDRA IS DEAD.

The answer hit him like a sledgehammer to the head. Suddenly he was awake. He sat in the dark of his flat and thought about the words. Someone wanted to scare him, right? Right?

He picked up his mobile but realized he could do little at this hour. Shaking the thought away, he left the site and went to bed, where Alex was lying asleep. She woke up as he took her into his arm. He could not sleep for another hour until his exhausted body pushed any concern back and finally had its victory.

****

Simon woke up at noon. He felt pain coming from his stiff neck and then realized Alex was gone. He preferred it this way. He got up, made a coffee with a capsule promising to be “intense” and called the police central.

“Police Hamburg, Anna Weber, what can I do for you?” A woman took up the phone.

“My name is Simon Bleicher, I am calling because I have a friend I cannot get hold of and I wondered if anything might have happened to her. Her name is Sandra Folckert, she lives in Schulterblatt 70.” The voice on the other side explained that he should stay on the line.

“Mr. Bleicher, I am gonna forward your call to the relevant department,” the voice said. The blood in his veins froze. Why was there a relevant department?

It took a moment before he heard a male voice.

“Kommissar Raubach, Homicide Department Hamburg, you called about a Sandra Flockert?”

Simon knew then that the message on the forum had not lied. She was dead.

****

The coffee was mostly empty and Simon felt the tears flowing. He didn’t know why of all people he had called Alex, but she sat there and gently touched his back with a sensibility he didn’t expect from her.

“What did they say?” she asked, concerned.

“He said that they could not give me any information about an ongoing investigation, but he confirmed she was murdered. He had a few questions. Who I was and my address and things like that. I gave him everything and he said they would probably have additional questions soon.” Simon looked up at her and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry I called you. It’s just . . . I don’t know. I needed to talk to someone.” He cleared his nose and looked at her.

“That’s alright. I think I know how you feel. I lost people to violence too.” She gave him a sad smile. Then her eyes wandered out. Simon had seen that her eyes had done this several times since they had sat down.

His eyes followed hers though, in the rain, he could hardly see what was outside. There was a man in a raincoat standing there. He seemed to watch the cafe.

“Everything alright?” Simon asked. Alex smiled.

“Yes. I don’t wanna freak you out,” she said and gently patted his shoulder.

“Try your worst, I don’t think I can get any more freaked out than I already am,” Simon said, laughing.

“Were you followed when you came here?” Alex asked. Simon looked at the man out there again. He turned away and walked down the street. From the way he moved, he seemed to be an old man.

“No idea, why?” he asked. Was someone following him? Had Sandra been killed because of the monster? Was she killed by the monster? Was he next? His heart began pounding so hard it felt like it could burst out of his chest. “What do you know about following people?” He then asked.

“A thing or two,” Alex said as she grabbed her jacket. “Listen, I can come along later tonight. I gotta work,” she explained. Simon nodded.

“What exactly did you say you were doing?” he asked and suddenly he wondered how she spotted a man following him than her coming over later that night.

“I didn’t tell.” She smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Have a drink. It helps.” She left rather quickly. Simon looked back at her and sniffed. Then he ordered the bill. He got out his mobile, opened the browser, and logged into the cryptozoology page. He clicked on PMs and opened his only one.

HOW DID YOU KNOW?

He asked and got no answer. He paid and finally went home. On the way, he checked the site again. There was a new message waiting for him.

SHE ASKED ME SOME QUESTIONS. I WARNED HER.

Simon stopped and turned around to see if anyone was following him. It was still raining, so the streets were rather empty. He saw nobody, though.

WHAT QUESTIONS?

The answer came before he reached his flat.

ABOUT THE NOCTURNE SOCIETY.

Simon had never heard of an organization that went by the name. He opened a new tab and asked the internet. There was no hit at all.

WHAT IS THE NOCTURNE SOCIETY?

He wrote back.

IT IS WHAT GOT HER KILLED. I MADE A MISTAKE. WILL NOT DO IT AGAIN.

Simon shook his head and opened the door to his apartment.

I NEED TO KNOW.

****

He pushed the send button and was politely informed by a notice that the user no longer existed. He threw his computer angrily on the couch and shoved his hands so hard into his hair it almost hurt.

Sandra and he had seen a monster, she had broken up with him, had researched the monster on the same website he had ended up on, met BuenosAires202020 there, and had asked him about something called the Nocturne Society. Then she had been killed. The problem was that nobody would believe the part about the monster. Not the police, not even Alex. None of his friends would believe a word, and everyone would think he was insane if he even mentioned it.

He felt terribly alone.

He was alone.

Nobody could help him.

He had been sitting there for two hours thinking about his options. He thought about getting a gun and realized that he had no idea how to. He had considered various versions of the truth that the police might believe. He had thought about going on a vacation, out of town.

Then someone knocked at his door. The doorbell had not been used; he was quite certain of that. It was an old-fashioned knock.

Simon got up and looked around. He quickly went to the kitchen and got the biggest knife he could find. Then he went to the door and looked through the peephole.

An old man was standing out there and from the look of his clothes, he recognized the man who had been watching him in the coffee shop.

“Hello, how can I help you?” Simon asked.

“I am here to talk about Sandra Folkert,” the man said with a raspy voice.

“Who are you?” he asked, though he could almost guess the answer.

“My name is Brockmann,” the man said.