The Witch in the Woods

The day dawned bleak and cold, the kind of morning that seemed to foreshadow the darkness about to unfold. Detective Ferguson and his new partner, Detective Ryder Scott, moved deliberately through the grand entrance of the Gallanti mansion. The air inside was thick with the metallic scent of blood, mingling with the musty odor of old wood and history. Shadows played tricks on the mind as they carefully stepped around the pools of blood staining the marble floor. The once-grand staircase now bore the gruesome sight of Joseph Gallanti’s lifeless body, sprawled grotesquely at its base, a macabre centerpiece to the crime scene

This case ticked all the classic Dateline boxes. A small town where violent crime was virtually unheard of. A man with no enemies, someone who lit up every room he entered. No clear suspects. Blood everywhere. A community in shock. And a sharp, young detective, recently transferred from the big city back to his hometown, now assigned to a case of a magnitude he hadn’t yet grasped.

Detective Scott knelt beside the body. “Thirteen stab wounds,” he noted grimly, his voice barely above a whisper. The coroner had confirmed the overkill nature of the attack, and yet nothing in the house appeared to have been taken. There was no sign of forced entry, no shattered glass or splintered wood—only the brutal reality that Joseph Gallanti had known his killer.

Perhaps, he had even welcomed them in.

---

Lua raced through the chilling winter air, her breath visible in the cold, as she made her way to the university. The news of the dean’s murder had spread like wildfire, sending shockwaves through the entire campus. The chatter of students and faculty alike buzzed in the background, but Lua was focused solely on reaching Peter’s office. The thought of him alone, vulnerable, broke her heart.

She burst through the door, ignoring the secretary’s attempts to stop her. Peter was sitting by the window, staring blankly at the snow-covered grounds outside. The room was thick with an unspoken grief. Lua approached him slowly, her heart heavy with concern.

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him. Peter’s body tensed at first, but then he melted into her embrace, his sobs muffled against her shoulder. They stayed like that for a few moments, the weight of the world pressing down on them. Just as Lua was about to speak, the door creaked open, and Abigail entered.

“Oh, Peter…” Abigail’s voice was soft, filled with a tenderness that made Lua’s chest tighten.

Lua released Peter, stepping back as Abigail moved closer to him. Peter’s eyes followed Lua as she walked away, a silent plea in them. But as Abigail reached out to him, his attention shifted, and Lua felt an ache deep in her soul. She turned and left the room, her heart heavy with unspoken words.

Rumors were swirling around campus, growing more ominous by the hour. Whispers of curses and dark magic filled the halls, and all eyes seemed to turn towards Lua. Ever since the university had decided to evict her from the cabin, the talk of her being a witch had only intensified. Now, with the dean’s mysterious death, many believed she had something to do with it.

She strongly believed the protection ritual performed by Mrs. Lynx the night before would shield her from evil, but tragedy had struck again in a matter of hours, casting a long shadow over her newfound hope. How could this be? Did the ritual have the exact opposite effect that she intended, turning her faith into a weapon against her own peace? She had unwavering faith in Mrs. Lynx’s powers, her reputation for banishing malevolent forces well-known in their community, yet here she was, questioning everything.

The weight of Lua’s past traumas loomed over her like a dark cloud, and she wondered if her reluctance to revisit these painful experiences was somehow preventing her from being fully protected and strengthened by the forces that they had evoked. Could it be that every moment she spent avoiding her history was a missed opportunity for healing, a barrier to the very protection she sought? As she stood there, a tempest of doubt swirling within her, she began to consider whether true empowerment lay not just in rituals, but in confronting the demons of her past head-on, facing them in order to rise stronger and unbound.

Later that day, Lua found herself in conversation with Virginia, one of the few people she could still trust. Virginia was devastated by the death of Joseph Gallanti, a man she’d worked and been close to for more than three decades. She couldn’t even allow herself to be excited about the news that her beloved son was dating Lua, a woman she liked and admired. They chatted briefly about how the pair had met and how things were going between them, but the conversation quickly returned to the most pressing matter.

Virginia’s expression was grave as she relayed what Peter had told her. “If the murder isn’t solved quickly,” Virginia said, her voice hushed, “there’s a real chance the university might have to be sold to some corporation. If that happens, you’ll definitely be evicted, Lua. And CURA…”

Lua’s heart sank at the thought. The garden was her sanctuary, a place where she felt connected to the earth and at peace. Losing it would be devastating. And the university being sold would crush Peter. After everything horrendous he’d already been through.“What do we do?” she asked, her voice trembling with anxiety.

Virginia sighed. “We wait and see what happens. But you need to be prepared for the worst.” The idea of sitting down and waiting for things to resolve themselves angered Lua to her core, but she couldn’t come up with a way to effectively help. The weight of all the tragedy happening around her was too heavy for her to even try.

---

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the soft morning light filtered through the curtains of Alinda’s apartment, casting a gentle glow over the room. Evelyn went back to Ali’s the night before, after she came home from the ball, and they spent the night together.

Alinda sat on the edge of the bed, her phone in hand, scrolling through the breaking news. The words on the screen felt surreal. “I can’t believe this,” she muttered, her voice still thick with disbelief. “The dean… murdered?”

Evelyn, standing near the dresser, was putting on her shirt, her movements quick and deliberate. “Yeah, it’s shocking,” she replied absentmindedly, her mind clearly elsewhere as she hurried to get dressed.

Alinda continued reading out loud, her voice a mixture of shock and worry. “It says the murder happened last night. They’re investigating, but no suspects yet… God, I just can’t wrap my head around this. The dean? Why would anyone…?”

Evelyn barely glanced over, clearly in a rush. “I know, it’s awful,” she said, slipping into her jacket. Alinda’s eyes lifted from her phone, watching Evelyn with a mix of concern and frustration.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Alinda asked, her voice tinged with disappointment. “Can’t you stay for breakfast at least?”

Evelyn paused, glancing at the clock. “I wish I could, Ali, but I have to get to work. You know how it is.”

Alinda sighed, dropping her phone onto the bed. “It’s always work with you,” she murmured, her tone softer now. She wanted to spend more time with Evelyn, especially after last night. But she knew better than to push it.

Evelyn, sensing the shift in Ali’s mood, softened her voice. “I know, and I’m sorry. I really wish I could stay longer.” She walked over and kissed the top of Ali’s head. “But last night was great. I loved meeting your friends at the ball. They’re cool.”

Alinda smiled slightly, though her thoughts were still clouded with the news of the murder. “I’m glad you liked them. I think they liked you too.”

Evelyn smiled warmly, but then her expression grew more serious as she finished fastening her boots. “So, who do you think killed the dean?”

Alinda’s eyes widened, the gravity of Evelyn’s question pulling her thoughts back to the shocking news. “I have no idea,” she admitted, shaking her head. “I don’t think anyone does yet. It’s so unreal. I just hope they figure it out soon.”

---

Back at the Gallanti mansion, Ferguson, a seasoned detective with the weariness of too many years on the job etched into his features, sighed heavily. “It’s personal,” he muttered, his gaze sweeping over the scene. “This wasn’t just a random act of violence. Whoever did this wanted Gallanti dead and wanted to make damn sure of it.”

Scott nodded, standing up and brushing off his knees. “Could’ve been a man or a woman,” he mused. “Or maybe both. The level of rage here… it suggests someone close to the victim. But it’s not an exact science.”

Ferguson grunted in agreement. “In a town as small as Lake Laura, everybody’s got a connection to everybody else. Gallanti was a widower, and from what I hear, he got along fine with his son, Peter. At work, he was well-respected and liked.. But anyone who’s done as well as he did has made a few enemies along the way.”

He glanced around the opulent surroundings, the trappings of wealth and power in stark contrast to the violence that had occurred here. “We should look into the properties he owned, see if there’s anyone with a grudge or a motive connected to those. And then there’s the cabin on the university campus…”

Scott’s eyes narrowed. “The cabin? What about it?”

Ferguson hesitated. “It’s probably nothing, but there’s been talk around town. The woman who lives there—Lua—some folks think she’s… well, let’s just say they’ve got some superstitions about her.”

Scott waved a hand dismissively. “Superstitions won’t solve this case. But I’ll look into it,” he said, neglecting to inform the fact that he not only knew Lua, but he’d been in a relationship with her for a few weeks. “Right now, let’s focus on the facts. Start with the son, Peter. See what he knows and check his alibi.” Ferguson nodded. Then Scott added in a softer tone “He’s a good guy. I can’t see him doing something like this.”

Peter and Ryder had known each other for years, their lives intertwined by their parents’ close professional relationship. This connection meant that their paths crossed frequently, and over time, they spent numerous occasions together. However, despite their shared history, the two men existed in vastly different worlds. Ryder was street smart, athletic, and drawn to adventure and excitement, always seeking the thrill of the unknown. Peter, on the other hand, was the epitome of an academic—focused on his studies, career, and the responsibilities that came with managing his family’s business and legacy.

What united them, however, was a shared sense of responsibility and a fierce drive toward achieving their goals. This mutual respect for each other’s ambitions formed the foundation of their relationship, though it never developed into a close friendship. They remained acquaintances—connected by circumstance, yet divided by the differing paths they chose to walk.

As the detectives continued their grim work, the forensic team moved quietly around them, gathering evidence, photographing the scene, and cataloging every detail. Each piece of evidence was another thread in the tangled web that Ferguson and Scott would have to unravel to find Gallanti’s killer.

Later that day, as the detectives returned to the station, the weight of the case settled heavily on their shoulders. The town of Lake Laura was small, and news of the murder had spread quickly. Whispers of dark magic and curses were already beginning to circulate, fueled by the town’s natural inclination towards gossip and the mysterious figure of Lua. 

Scott sat down at his desk, his mind racing. He picked up the phone and dialed Lua’s number. “Hey, can I come by?” he whispered softly so nobody at the station would hear him.