Chapter 6

I woke up with the sun the next morning, my mind already racing with the tasks that lay ahead. I fed Luna, my faithful feline companion, and put on a pot of coffee, knowing that I would need every ounce of caffeine to get through the long day ahead.

My first order of business was to contact Lila Blackwood and Melissa Torres, the two women who might hold the key to unlocking the mystery of Cassandra's disappearance. I dialed Lila's number first, but the call went straight to voicemail. I left a brief message, explaining who I was and that I needed to speak with her regarding an urgent matter. I could only hope that she would call me back soon.

Next, I tried Melissa's number. To my surprise, she answered on the second ring. I introduced myself and explained that I was a private investigator looking into the disappearance of a young woman. I didn't mention Chad's name directly, but as soon as I said that she might have information relevant to the case, Melissa's voice took on a nervous edge.

"This is about Chad, isn't it?" she asked, her tone a mix of fear and resignation.

I paused for a moment, caught off guard by her directness. "Yes, it is," I said, keeping my voice calm and reassuring. "I believe you may have insight into his character that could be helpful to my investigation."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I thought Melissa might hang up on me. But then she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll meet with you," she said, her words rushed and breathless. "But not over the phone. And you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone else about this."

I assured her that our conversation would be strictly confidential and that I would do everything in my power to protect her privacy. We agreed to meet at a diner in Spring, Texas, a small town north of Houston, in two hours' time.

As I drove to the meeting spot, my mind was racing with questions and theories. What could Melissa tell me about Chad that would shed light on Cassandra's disappearance? And why was she so afraid of him?

The diner was a classic 1950s-style establishment, complete with red vinyl booths, chrome accents, and a black-and-white checkered floor. The waitresses were dressed in period-appropriate uniforms, with poodle skirts, saddle shoes, and high ponytails. They moved among the tables with a practiced efficiency, taking orders and delivering food with a cheerful "golly gee" and "swell, daddy-o."

I spotted Melissa in a corner booth, her eyes darting around the room like a trapped animal. She was a petite woman with mousy brown hair and a pale, drawn face. As I approached the table, she looked up at me with a mix of fear and relief.

"Thank you for meeting with me," I said, sliding into the booth across from her. "I know this can't be easy for you."

Melissa shook her head, her hands trembling as she raised a cup of coffee to her lips. "You have no idea," she said, her voice barely audible over the din of the diner. "Chad is... he's not like other people."

I leaned in closer, my curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

Melissa took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say. "He's a sociopath," she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. "He wants to control every aspect of your life, to isolate you from everyone and everything you care about. He's manipulative, and cruel, and..."

She trailed off, her eyes filling with tears. I reached across the table and placed my hand on hers, trying to offer some small measure of comfort.

"Melissa," I said softly, "I know this is difficult, but I need to know everything you can tell me about Chad. It could be crucial to finding out what happened to Cassandra."

She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "There's something else," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Something... strange about him."

I felt a chill run down my spine as I remembered the moment in the strip club when I had seen Chad's eyes change color. I had dismissed it as a trick of the light at the time, but now, hearing the fear in Melissa's voice, I wasn't so sure.

"His eyes," I said carefully, not wanting to lead her. "Did you ever notice anything... unusual about them?"

Melissa's face went deathly pale, and for a moment, I thought she might faint. "You saw it too?" she asked, her voice trembling. "The way they change color when he's angry or..."

She trailed off, shaking her head as if trying to banish the memory. "When he's aroused," she said finally, her words barely audible. "They turn this... this violet color, and he gets this look in his eyes, like a predator stalking its prey. It's terrifying."

I sat back in my seat, my mind reeling with the implications of what Melissa had just told me. If what she was saying was true, then Chad was more than just a controlling sociopath - he was something else entirely, something that defied rational explanation.

I tried to ask Melissa more questions, to get her to elaborate on what she had seen and experienced with Chad, but she was growing increasingly agitated and evasive. Finally, she stood up abruptly, mumbling something about needing to leave and not being able to tell me anything else.

"Please," she said, her eyes pleading. "Don't contact me again. I can't... I can't be involved in this any more than I already am."

And with that, she turned and fled the diner, leaving me sitting alone in the booth with a cold cup of coffee and a head full of unanswered questions.

As I drove back to my office, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over me. Melissa's story, as unsettling as it was, had the ring of truth to it. But what did it mean? Was Chad some kind of psychopath, with a level of depravity that defied understanding? Or was Melissa simply a traumatized woman, her perceptions distorted by the abuse she had suffered at his hands?

I didn't have any answers, but I knew one thing for certain: I couldn't dismiss Melissa's story out of hand. Even though the idea of Chad's eyes changing color seemed far-fetched, I had seen it with my own eyes. And the way Melissa described his predatory nature, the intensity of his gaze when he was aroused... it sent a shiver down my spine.

As a rational man, I had never put much stock in the supernatural or the paranormal. I had always believed that every mystery had a logical explanation, if you just looked hard enough. But something about this case, about Chad and his strange abilities, made me wonder deep in the back of my mind.  What if?

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I couldn't afford to let myself get distracted by wild speculations and fantastical theories. I needed to focus on the facts, on the evidence that I could see and touch and verify.

And the fact was, Melissa's story, as bizarre as it was, was a lead. It was a piece of the puzzle that I couldn't afford to ignore, no matter how much it challenged my preconceived notions about the world.

As I pulled into the parking lot of my office building, I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. I knew that I was on the brink of something big, something that would change the course of my investigation - and possibly my understanding of reality itself. But I was ready for whatever lay ahead, armed with the knowledge that I was fighting for the truth, no matter how strange or unsettling it might be.

I stepped out of my car and made my way into the building, my mind already racing with the next steps I needed to take. I had to follow up on Melissa's lead, to see if there were any other witnesses who could corroborate her story. I had to dig deeper into Chad's background, to see if there were any other red flags that I had missed.

I knew my next step was to update Detective Novak on everything I had learned. I called her and we agreed to meet at the Rusty Nail once again. As I walked into the dimly lit bar, I spotted Novak sitting at the same table as before, nursing a beer.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," she said, her tone playful. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about our little rendezvous."

I chuckled, sliding into the seat across from her. "And miss out on your charming company? Never."

We bantered back and forth for a few minutes, the easy camaraderie between us a welcome respite from the dark thoughts that had been plaguing me. But as much as I enjoyed our little verbal sparring match, I knew we had serious matters to discuss.

I just finished filling Novak in on my conversations with Chad and Melissa when a woman approached our table. She was stunningly beautiful, with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, and she carried herself with a grace and poise that spoke of a privileged upbringing.  She was dressed in a tailored black suit that hugged her curves, and her high heels clicked on the floor as she walked.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice soft but commanding. "Are you Sam Chandler and Detective Novak?"

We both nodded, too surprised to speak.

"My name is Lila," she said, extending her hand to shake ours. "Angel told me to meet you here, at this time."

Novak and I exchanged a glance, both of us taken aback by this unexpected development. Novak, who had never heard of Angel before, turned to me with a questioning look.

I quickly explained what I knew about Angel, about how she had first come to me with Cassandra's case and how she seemed to have inside knowledge about the disappearances.

Lila listened quietly, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. When I finished, she simply said, "Angel is a protector of the innocent. That's all I can tell you."

Lila led us to a secluded corner of the bar, where we huddled together, our voices low. She began to tell us her story, and as she spoke, I could feel a growing sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach.  

      

Lila began to tell us about the parties, about how she had first been indoctrinated into them.

"I was first introduced to the parties by a man named Chad Myers," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "He was charming, charismatic, and he made me feel special. Like I was part of something exclusive and exciting."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the photograph of Chad Bingham that I had been carrying with me. I slid it across the table to Lila, watching her face closely.

"Lila, I need you to take a look at this man," I said, my voice low and urgent. "Is this the Chad Myers you knew from the parties?"

Lila picked up the photograph, her hands trembling slightly. She studied it for a long moment, her brow furrowed in concentration. Finally, she looked up at us, her eyes wide with recognition.

"Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's him. That's definitely the man I knew as Chad Myers. He looks a little different in this picture - his hair is styled differently, and he's wearing different clothes - but there's no mistaking those eyes. That's him."

Novak and I exchanged a glance, both of us feeling a surge of excitement at this new lead. If Chad Bingham and Chad Myers were one and the same, it could be the key to unlocking the mystery of Cassandra's disappearance and the sinister goings-on at the underground parties.

"Thank you, Lila," I said, taking the photograph back from her.

I quickly filled her in on our investigation into Chad Bingham and his connection to Cassandra's disappearance. Lila nodded, a look of grim understanding on her face.

"That makes sense," she said. "The men at these parties... they're not like other men. They have a power over people, a way of getting inside your head and making you do things you never thought you would."

She went on to describe the drug, Thrive, that was ubiquitous at the parties. It lowered inhibitions, she said, and made people susceptible to suggestion. It gave them a feeling of euphoria and peace, but it also made them willing to do anything the men asked of them.

"What kind of things?" I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Lila shuddered, her eyes haunted. "Terrible things. Things that no one in their right mind would ever agree to. But under the influence of Thrive... it's like you're not in control of your own actions. Like you're a puppet on a string, and they're the ones pulling the strings."

Novak and I exchanged a glance, both of us struggling to process what we were hearing. It sounded like something out of a horror movie, but the fear in Lila's eyes was all too real.

"How did you get out?" Novak asked, her voice gentle. "What made you decide to come forward?"

Lila took a deep, shuddering breath. "One night, I saw something... something that terrified me to my very core. I saw two men... drinking the blood of a young woman. Right there in the middle of the party, like it was the most normal thing in the world."

Novak held up her hand, interrupting Lila's story. "Wait a minute," she said, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and horror. "When you say they were drinking her blood... how do you know that's what they were doing? Can you describe exactly what you saw?"

Lila's face paled, and she closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to gather her strength. When she spoke again, her voice was trembling, but there was a clarity to her words that left no doubt in my mind that she was telling the truth.

"I was at the party, just like I had been so many times before," she began, her eyes fixed on a spot on the table in front of her. "I was feeling the effects of Thrive, that euphoric high that made everything seem so beautiful and perfect. But then I noticed something out of the corner of my eye, something that didn't quite fit with the rest of the scene."

She took a deep breath, her hands clenching into fists on the table. "I turned to look, and that's when I saw them. Two men, hunched over a woman who was lying on a couch. At first, I thought they were just kissing her, or maybe biting her neck in some kind of passionate frenzy. But then I realized... they weren't just biting her. They were drinking from her."

Lila's voice broke, and she covered her mouth with her hand, as if trying to hold back a sob. "I could see the blood, running down her neck and soaking into the couch cushions. And the men... their faces were buried in her neck, their mouths locked onto her skin like they were suckling at a wound. I could hear the sound of their swallowing, the wet, slurping noises as they drank deeply from her veins."

She shuddered, her eyes filling with tears. "I watched, frozen in horror, as the woman's body began to convulse, her limbs twitching and jerking as the life drained out of her. And still, the men drank, their faces contorted with a kind of ecstatic pleasure that made my stomach turn."

Novak and I sat in stunned silence, unable to fully process what we had just heard. The idea of someone actually drinking another person's blood... it was too horrific, too unbelievable to comprehend.

But as I looked at Lila's face, at the haunted look in her eyes and the way her hands shook as she spoke, I knew that she was telling the truth. She had seen something that night, something that had scarred her deeply and irrevocably.

"How long did this go on?" I asked, my voice hoarse with shock.

Lila shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I don't know," she whispered. "It felt like an eternity, but it could have been just a few minutes. All I know is that when they finally pulled away from her, the woman was... she was dead. Her eyes were open, staring blankly at the ceiling, and her skin was so pale, so drained of color... it was like she had been bled dry."

Novak reached out and took Lila's hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm so sorry you had to witness something like that," she said, her voice filled with compassion. "I can't even begin to imagine how traumatic that must have been."

Lila nodded, wiping at her tears with her free hand. "It was the most horrifying thing I've ever seen," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And the worst part was... no one else seemed to even notice. They just kept on dancing and laughing and drinking, like nothing had happened. Like it was just another night at the party."

"That was the night Angel first contacted me," Lila continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "She told me that I had to get out, that I had to help put a stop to this madness. And I knew she was right. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't do something."

Novak and I were silent for a long moment, both of us trying to wrap our minds around what we had just heard. Finally, Novak spoke up, her voice hesitant.

"Lila... why are you telling us all of this? Why come forward now, after all this time?"

Lila looked up at us, her eyes shining with a fierce determination. "Because it's God's will," she said simply. "He brought me to Angel, and Angel brought me to you."

She stood up, smoothing down her skirt. "I'll contact you when I know when and where the next party is taking place," she said, her voice firm. "Be ready."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving Novak and me sitting there in stunned silence.

After a long moment, I turned to Novak, my mind racing. "Do you think...?" I hesitated, not quite sure how to put into words the insane thought that was forming in my mind. But after what Lila had just told us, I couldn't keep it to myself any longer.

"Novak," I said, my voice low and urgent. "There's something else I need to tell you. Something that I didn't mention before, because I thought it was too crazy to be true. But now, after hearing Lila's story... I'm not so sure."

Novak leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing. "What is it, Chandler? What haven't you told me?"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for her reaction. "When I talked to Melissa Torres, Chad's ex-girlfriend... she told me something about him. Something that I couldn't quite believe at the time, but that makes a terrible kind of sense now."

I paused, trying to find the right words. "She said that sometimes, when Chad was angry or aroused... his eyes would change color. They would turn this deep, unnatural violet, and he would get this look on his face... like a predator, stalking its prey."

Novak's eyes widened, and I could see the wheels turning in her head as she processed this new information. "And you think... what? That Chad is some kind of... vampire?"

I winced at the word, feeling a rush of disbelief and fear wash over me. "I know it sounds crazy," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But after what Lila just told us... after what she saw at that party... could it really be so far-fetched?"

Novak was silent for a long moment, her face a mask of conflicting emotions. I could see the skepticism warring with the growing realization that we were dealing with something far beyond our understanding.

"I don't know," she said finally, her voice heavy with exhaustion and uncertainty. "I don't know what to think anymore, Chandler. But if there's even a chance that what Lila and Melissa are saying is true... if there are really people out there who are capable of the things we've heard about... then we have to do something. We have to stop them, before more innocent people get hurt."

I nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose and determination. "You're right," I said, my voice growing stronger. "We can't let this go on any longer.”

It sounded ridiculous, like something out of a bad horror novel. But after everything we had seen and heard... could we really rule it out?

"I want to infiltrate the next party with you," Novak said suddenly, her voice filled with a fierce determination. "If there's even a chance that we can stop these monsters and save Cassandra and the others... I have to be there."

I nodded, feeling a surge of admiration for my partner's bravery. "Okay," I said, my voice steady. "We'll do it together."