Detective Jodi Silver was at her limit in every conceivable way. She leans over the basin of the cramped women's room of the Arcadia Bay police station and takes a few breaths in a vain attempt to gather her composure. A cigarette is what she really needed, but self-discipline would have to suffice for the time being. Her long black hair is loose as opposed to her usual ponytail and the woman she looks at in the mirror looks fatigued and in need of sleep.

'Hmmm, maybe a power nap is in order before Adam shows up with the warrants.'

The bloodbath at the junkyard had affected her more than she could admit to anyone else and on top of that, she had the press and her superiors breathing down her neck. Of course what was hardest to deal with was the discovery of Rachel Amber. Though she had never met her, Jodi worked closely with her father on numerous cases over the past several years. Missing person cases were nothing new to her and after six months she knew it wasn't going to have a happy ending.

'Shit Jim, you and Rose don't deserve this.'

She had spent her morning at the junkyard outside of town trying piece together what had happened there. It first seemed like an impossible task since but once forensics sent by the Oregon State Police had arrived and she had found a recording on Chloe Price's phone, things started to fall into place. However, what confirmed everything was the note found in Nathan Prescott's jacket pocket. It specified everything that he and Mark Jefferson had been up to, along with the location of their so called 'dark room'. The whole town, Blackwell included is in shock as are the local and state police officers. The case has pushed everyone to the limit, but Jodi knows that the department can't slow down now.

'You've been through worse Sil. Suck it up, be a cop and do your damn job.'

After one last look in the mirror, she put her hair back in a ponytail and splashed some water on her face. With her game face back on, Jodi stepped back into the small, but functional police station. It was strange seeing so many people in one room yet hearing so little. Jodi took a glance around the room and it was clear that she wasn't the only one affected by the day's events. Whilst the state police were somewhat more composed, the local police looked as broken as she felt.

'These Arcadia locals didn't sign up for shit like this.'

After a trip to the break room to get a red bull, Jodi steps back into the main area to find the assistant district attorney Adam Shale waiting for her in his usual three piece suit. Much like James Amber, Jodi had worked closely with Adam for several years and had come to trust his judgement on nearly everything. He was less of a public figure than James Amber, but still dedicated and very professional. Since the discovery of Rachel's body, James Amber has been barred from any involvement in the Prescott/Jefferson case due to his daughter being a victim. This meant Adam Shale being forced to step up and fill the shoes of his superior, mentor and friend.

"Please tell me you got 'em," Jodi says as she approaches Adam with confident strides.

"Well Sean Prescott's legal team is still fighting back every attempt to get warrants for his properties as expected. But.." Adam puts his brief case on a nearby desk and takes out several sheets of paper. "This barn house you mentioned earlier on the phone is owned by Sean's father which made it a little easier for me." He hands her the papers. "You got the green light for the barn."

Jodi lived for these moments. Her cop instincts were at their strongest when all the legal bullshit was taken care of and nothing was standing in the way of the truth. "Thanks Adam," Jodi says with utter sincerity.

"Sure thing," he replies. "Any word from the hospital yet about Price and Jefferson?"

This was a question that Jodi had heard countless times today and has grown sick of hearing, but she knew Adam's heart was in the right place. "Both are still in surgery as far as I know. I gave the hospital my details and they said they'd call once they have news." Aside from the case and the well being of Chloe Price, another thought had been consuming Jodi's mind. "Were you there?" Adam looks at Jodi, not understanding the question. "When Jim found out about Rachel?"

"Yeah I was," his response is low and the mood between the two suddenly shifts. "He didn't react the way I thought he would. He was quiet as he got the news from the officers and his face turned red, but before I could say a word he just walked out of the office and headed for his car. I assume he went home to see Rose. All I want right now is to call him, but I know it's not the thing to do right now. Jim and Rose need space to grieve."

Both Adam and Jodi were single and childless, but still understood the universal truth that no parent should have to bury their child. "You're right," Jodi said as she nodded in agreement. "I think I'll send flowers once I get some down time from the case, but for now I got a job to finish." After checking the warrants, Jodi finished her red bull and cleared her throat.

"Go get 'em, for the Ambers." Adam's words motivated her more than any energy drink ever could.

"Alright everyone, listen up!" The room was already quiet, but Jodi's exclamation had everyone's attention in less than a second and all eyes were on her. "Thanks to our assistant DA here…" Jodi motioned in Adam's direction who seems momentarily uncomfortable being the centre of attention "we have the warrants for the barn house that I'm sure you have all been hearing about." After a series of whispers through the room, Jodi continues. "Based on what we have this place will most likely be empty, but that doesn't mean we are taking chances so all who are first on scene must wear a vest. I will be running the show in terms of first on scene." The majority of the officers picked to accompany Jodi to the dark room were from the State Police since they were more experienced and could be trusted since the smell of a rat in the local department was obvious. Silver knew one of the Arcadia local cops had leaked the involvement of Chloe Price in the Blackwell shooting to the media or maybe even the Prescotts. As a result, Jodi didn't know who to trust in the ABPD, if anyone at all.

"Forensics?" Jodi motioned to a group of five differently, but neatly dressed officers. The group consisted of three males, two females and all wore navy polo shirts with the OSP insignia printed on the left breast pocket. "You guys will hang back and stand by until you get the all clear." The group nods in acknowledgement. "And this goes without saying but no one goes near that barn without gloves. There will be no contamination of this crime scene! Is that clear?" Her question is met by a series of grunts and generic statements none of which had any backbone.

"Look," Jodi addressed the entire room. The declining morale in the room was palpable and Jodi had to do something about it. Tomorrow might be a day to break, but not today. "I know today has been a tough day for all of us. The scene at the junk yard was the stuff of nightmares and I know not all of you were ready for it. This week so far has no doubt scarred the image of Arcadia Bay forever but despite that, we have a chance, right now, to close the book on all of it. The residents of this town, the kids at Blackwell, the media and all of us, we ALL need a win right now. So let's go get it!" Jodi's speech, while not award winning certainly fulfilled its purpose as the officers under her command rallied and began to prepare for the raid on the dark room.

Joyce sat in the hospital waiting room, unable to breathe at a regular pace or stop her hands from shaking. She had chosen to sit in one of the chairs that faced away from the reception desk since eye contact isn't something she could manage right now. Every second, turned minute, turned hour without a word on Chloe's condition drove her deeper into the abyss. All she knew was that her beloved daughter had been shot by a highly esteemed teacher and the two were now both in surgery since Chloe allegedly stabbed him in self defence.

'Chloe, please be okay. I can't make it without you.'

Her eyes turned from the coffee stain on the floor to her brown leather handbag which housed the letter that her daughter had left for her earlier that day. Since arriving at the hospital she had read it countless times and the contents broke her heart just as much as the horrid reality that she may have to bury yet another family member. She could never tell her husband because it isn't fair on him, but she wanted William there with her right now, not David.

'Forgive me William. I should have kept her safe. This wouldn't happen on your watch.'

Joyce could feel, rather than see all the eyes on her. Some from the hospital staff, others from fellow visitors but she didn't care or even bother to turn to see if her assumption was true.

"Joyce," a white plastic cup of water was held before her by David Madsen. "Please drink. I haven't seen you eat or drink anything since last night." Despite his best attempts to put on a tough exterior, David was falling apart and wanted something, anything to do to make himself feel useful. Even if it was something as mundane as bringing his distraught wife a drink. She looked up into her husband's eyes and was so sure she was wearing the same look as him.

Proper hydration was not her priority at the moment but she took the cup anyway and downed its contents quickly. "T-thank you," she said softly as she tossed the empty cup into a nearby trash can.

David sat beside her with no clue as to what to say or do. All the training and experience the military had given him could not possibly prepare him for what he and Joyce were going through, the two were helpless. Drawing a blank, he instead opted to take his wife's shaking hand and hoped the simple gesture was enough. It was. Joyce rested her head on David's shoulder and the tears started to flow again.

Wanting a distracting, Joyce asked David where Ryan and Vanessa were. A twinge of guilt rushed through Joyce. The shock of what happened at the junkyard had made her momentarily forget what had happened to Max.

'Both my girls shot. How do I live with this?'

"The brain specialist from Portland arrived earlier and they are talking to him now. They told me to tell you that they will be back as soon as they can." David's answer brought no comfort to Joyce. She knew they had to check in about Max's condition but also wanted them here with her.

David placed a soft kiss on his wife's temple. "We'll get through this Joyce. No matter what happens I'll be here for my fam-"

An unfamiliar voice cut David off. "Mrs Price?" The words got Joyce and David to their feet at lightning speed and standing before them was a balding middle aged man in surgical scrubs.

"Yes," Joyce said not bothering to correct the doctor about her surname. Her heart was beating beyond human capacity at what he might be about to say.

'Please tell me something good. Don't let this be the end.'

The doctor remained professional as he always did and gave Joyce the news…

"Okay people," Jodi addressed the small group of officers once it was confirmed that the barn house was clear of any threats. "Nathan's note said that the entrance is camouflaged on the ground somewhere. Find it." Her command got her subordinates to holster their sidearms and begin kicking hay in every direction, all hoping to get the lucky find. Despite the burning desire to uncover the so called 'dark room', most of the officers were a little slow due to the additional weight they were forced to carry brought on by their kevlar vests.

Detective Silver took a deep breath and glanced around the room taking it all in. She knew this was the place and her instincts seldom failed. It was obvious that the hay on the ground was only the last layer that concealed the darkness below. The age on the barn itself and the ancient farming gear would tell any would-be intruder that there is nothing to see here but some old worthless farming crap from another time. However, the oversized and recently installed padlock on the main door along with the fact that someone paid to run electrical cable into the structure painted a different story.

Instead of looking for the entrance to the dark room, Jodi took her time and observed everything in the barn. Nothing indicated recent activity. Everything she eyed was layered in a thick coat of dust.

'Hmmm, Nathan and Jefferson must have made sure not to touch anything around here thus selling the illusion. I doubt forensics will find anything up here.'

"Detective Silver!" The call from the only other female officer on site got everyone's attention. "I think I got it." Officer Abigail Rolston had met Jodi Silver yesterday but only briefly as she had taken a statement from Kate Marsh regarding her claim that was being proven more and more true as the seconds went by.

Once enough hay had been cleared, a hatch was before them with yet another huge padlock. Unlike everything else in the room, the door was relatively new and in excellent condition.

Before Silver could ask who had them, a well built African American OSP officer bent down and made short work of the padlock with the bolt cutters that were used to open the barn doors only minutes earlier. Once the hatch had been lifted open a chill ran down Jodi's spine that she was certain was also running through all her fellow officers.

"Jesus," someone uttered.

A small stair case led the group down to a well lit area surrounded by industrial grade steel. The slightly flickering lights made some of the officers uneasy, but failed to deter Jodi.

"Feels like we are descending into hell itself," another officer said which Jodi internally agreed with.

In front of them was a massive security door made from the same steel that surrounded the area. So far everything about this place lined up with the contents of Nathan Prescott's suicide note and it seemed the entry code would be no exception.

"What do you make of this Ma'am?" Asked Rolston as she gestured towards the keypad. Jodi being the only one in the room to have actually read the suicide note took a quick look at the device and scoffed.

'Fuck me, talk about amateur hour. 2,4 and 5 are the only digits with any wear on them and Prescott's note said that the code is 542. Jefferson should have replaced the keypad and a five digit code would have helped too. Then again, I guess getting someone out here to replace it would risk exposure and Jefferson wouldn't qualify as a handyman.'

Not responding to Rolston's query, Jodi punched in the three digit code and was not the least bit surprised to see a solid green light appear on the keypad followed by the sound of an electronic lock releasing.

"Rolston," Jodi said with quiet authority. "This door is solid steel and should cover you just fine. On my mark pull the door open slowly so we can see if there are any surprises waiting for us on the other side. Got it?"

"Got it Ma'am," Rolston replied as she grasped the door handle.

"The rest of you, be damn sure to check your corners. We ain't taking any chances here." Jodi drawed her weapon and everyone else followed suit except for Rolston who kept her grip on the door.

Rolston got the go ahead nod from her superior and began to open the door slowly, a bit slower than what Jodi wanted but she held her tongue.

She couldn't see everything yet, but Jodi was looking at a small area that she assumed lead to the main section of the dark room. In front of her was a sink with some basic cleaning supplies but mostly bleach no doubt used to clean up evidence should the need arise. Beside it was a hot water service along with some steel shelves that housed an abundance of non-perishable foods.

'Hmmm, seems like the place to be in the event of a tornado or nuclear war.'

"Police!" Jodi's loud statement made several of her fellow officers jolt slightly. She mentally patted herself on the back, proud to know that she's still got it. "We have a warrant for the premises! If anyone's in here, make yourself known right now! We are armed!" Her powerful command was met with a stony silence, as expected.

The senior detective stepped through the door first, checking her corners with no nasty surprises lying in wait. She could see the some of the main area from where she was and decided not to slow down. Aiming her weapon up and taking the safety off, Jodi wastes no time in stepping out into the make shift studio. Blocking out all details as clearing the area was the priority, she swiftly deduced that the area was empty of any threats except for in front of the sofa. Jodi motioned for her officers to keep eyes on the main area. They understood for the most part and the sofa was checked with no hassle.

After a quick final once over, it was obvious that no one was in the room. "All clear," Jodi said as she secured her side arm in its holster. "Safeties on and someone get forensics down here ASAP."

The minutes dragged for all on scene. No one acknowledged it but there was an elephant in the dark room and it was in the form of irrational fear. There were no threats around that could cause harm, but it was clear that the mere sight and feel of the dark room would stick with the group for all their days. This crippling fear slowed everyone down and the room was searched as a snail's pace.

The wildly expensive photography equipment.

The disturbing art that clung to the walls.

The large supply of tranquilisers and syringes.

The correspondence between Prescott, Jefferson and a local psychiatrist.

Everything in the room screamed that this was the end of the rainbow, that the case could be closed.

"Detective Silver," Rolston called out. Jodi put down the old newspaper that detailed Rachel Amber's disappearance and approached Rolston who was gazing at an open cupboard that was somewhat smaller than the others in the room. "You need to see this," she added.

Inside was a collection of red binders, all marked with female names. There were so many names, but the binders marked 'RACHEL' and 'KATE' are what caught Jodi's attention. It was obvious that they were the most recent added to the collection since the writing in black marker hadn't faded whilst some of the other binders had shown signs of aging. She took them out and instructed the others to check the remainder of the evidence.

"Oh my God."

"What kind of monster would do this?"

"Sick bastards."

"Is this supposed to be art?"

"Those poor girls."

As each fold was checked, a new but already used statement was used by the officers to describe the evil that laid before them. Each folder contained black and white images of young girls in a helpless and drugged state and they all clearly had no idea what was happening to them.

Since Jodi was the ranking officer, she couldn't let her colours show and had to maintain an image of strength and unwavering authority even though the urge to burn the bunker to the ground ran through her like a homicidal rage.

"Kate Marsh," Rolston blurted out as she examined the binder's contents. "When I talked to her yesterday she described being in a 'white and bright place' the night she was at that party last week." Her eyes went from the sickly photos to the white backdrop surrounded by professional quality lighting gear. "She wasn't lying."

"Is this all the binders?" Jodi's question to the group forced someone to check the cupboard once more.

"Yeah that's all of the- wait hang on." The overly tall officer pulled out one last binder and handed it to Jodi. "We missed one right at the back."

Thanking him, Jodi glanced at the folder marked 'SAMANTHA' and saw that it was somewhat different from the others. The plastic was creased implying its increased age, the permanent marker that displayed her name was faded more so than all the others and a subtle layer of dust covered much of the exterior of the binder. Everything Jodi took notice of told her that this was the first of the binders, the one that started the collection.

'You were the first, weren't you Samantha?'

The photos inside were framed much like the rest but lacked a certain quality.

'Was Jefferson using an older camera when he took these?'

The girl was short, slim with shoulder length brown hair although Jodi couldn't be sure due to the photo being in black and white. Her hands and feet were bound with duct tape and she looked disoriented and afraid. "She sort of looks like Max Caulfield doesn't she?" Jodi didn't realise that Rolston was looking at the images also, but she couldn't help but agree.

"Minus the freckles of course," Jodi responded.

Jodi's mind immediately went to what she had heard from the recording on Chloe's phone. It was obvious that Max was on Mark Jefferson's list of potential subjects and that sooner or later there would be a red binder in this room with her name on it.

'At least he won't get his hands on her now.'

"Detective Silver," an officer addressed her as he stepped into the main area. She didn't know his name but he was one of OSP officers that arrived in town earlier that day.

"Yes?"

"The hospital has been trying to reach you, but I guess there is no cell reception down here. I have an update about Price and Jefferson."

Everyone in the room froze in their spot and turned to face the officer, a collective, yet unseen breath of anxiety was drawn.

"Speak," Jodi said since the officer was suddenly stunted, not expecting to be put on the spot like this.

'Enough bad news has been dropped today. Give me something good, please.'

"Chloe Price is out of surgery and in a stable condition. All indications say that she will pull through just fine." The number of breaths being let out in obvious relief makes an odd sound that briefly bounces off the walls. A series of smiles and 'thank gods' can't be helped by everyone around and for a moment, they all forget the darkness that surrounds them. Even Jodi couldn't help but smile which isn't something she normally did, especially not at work.

'Still kicking aye Price? Girl is tougher than I thought.'

"And Jefferson?" Jodi asks once the group has enjoyed their little moment. The room was once again silent, but it was obvious that no one cared one way or the other.

"H-he… was pronounced dead about thirty minutes ago. The knife wound was simply too deep and there was no way to stop internal bleeding." The statement from the officer was spoken in a blank even tone, as if he was taking morning roll call like a teacher.

No one in the room responded to the news of Mark Jefferson's death, at least not visibly.

'Thank God for that. With that fucker and Nathan both dead, none of this has to go to trial.'

Jodi thanked the officer and ordered the group to continue searching for anymore incriminating evidence. The hours dragged, and afternoon turned to night as the dark room was searched, photographed and its contents catalogued, never to be seen by the public.

Author's Note:

Blame my long absence on laziness, a loss of passion, alcohol and Red Dead Redemption 2. By the way, how awesome is that game!

I tried to make it as obvious as I could but the Samantha mentioned in this chapter was Samantha Myers from Before The Storm. The second I saw her when I first played BTS, I knew she would be a victim. At least that's the way I saw it.

So Chloe is alive and Jefferson is dead. I will be going back to writing in first person with the next chapter, whenever that will be.