Chapter 3

The polygraph room was even colder than the interrogation room.

I was led inside and pushed into a wide, oversized seat that closely resembled a dentist's chair.

A deadpan technician in a white lab coat walked over and began hooking me up to a mess of complex wires.

Cold patches were stuck to my chest and wrists to measure my heart rate and pulse.

Two thick rubber straps were pulled tight across my chest and abdomen to record my breathing.

Clips were fastened onto my fingertips to monitor my galvanic skin response.

I felt like a death row inmate about to be strapped into the electric chair.

Every minute physiological reaction was about to be magnified and dissected.

Detective Briggs stood on the other side of the two-way mirror.

Even though I couldn't see him, I could feel his hawkish eyes bearing down on me.

"Just relax, Chloe."

The technician's voice was completely flat, like a soulless machine.

"We're going to start with a few baseline questions. Please answer only with 'yes' or 'no'."

"Is your name Chloe?"

"Yes."

"Are you twenty years old?"

"Yes."

"Are you currently at a police station?"

"Yes."

The machine's styluses traced steady, rhythmic waves across the graphing paper.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart.

I didn't kill anyone.

I had nothing to be afraid of.

The technician glanced at the screen, nodded, and his tone suddenly sharpened.

"Moving on to the primary questions."

"Between two and five o'clock this morning, did you leave your bed?"

"No," I answered without hesitation.

"Did you use any instrument or tool to inflict physical harm on Sloane, Lexi, or Blair?"

"No."

"Did you witness their murders firsthand?"

"No."

"Do you know who, or what, killed them?"

"No... wait, yes I do!"

My emotions suddenly surged, and the heart rate monitor began beeping rapidly.

"It was the Beast!"

"The predator that escaped on the news!"

"It couldn't have been anything else!"

"Please respond only with 'yes' or 'no'," the technician cut in coldly.

"Yes!" I said through gritted teeth.

"One last question." The technician looked up, meeting my eyes directly.

"Chloe, did you kill your three roommates?"

"No!" I spat the word out, practically grinding my teeth.

Tears of overwhelming grievance and anger welled up in my eyes.

Several agonizing minutes ticked by.

The only sound in the room was the faint hum of the machine.

I stared nervously at the technician.

I watched as he tore a long strip of readout paper from the printer, carefully analyzing the wave patterns.

The door burst open.

Detective Briggs strode in and snatched the paper right out of the technician's hands.

His eyes darted across the printout, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper.

His initial arrogance was slowly replaced by a look of absolute, baffled disbelief.

"That's impossible..." Briggs muttered a curse under his breath.

"Detective, the results indicate that the subject's heart rate, respiration, and skin responses showed no deceptive fluctuations when answering any of the core questions."

The technician reported calmly, "She is telling the truth."

I let out a massive sigh of relief.

My frayed nerves instantly uncoiled, and I slumped back into the chair.

"Machines make mistakes," Briggs glared at me, unwilling to concede.

"Detective, you and I both know this machine is ninety-nine percent accurate." The technician began packing up his equipment.

"Without physical evidence, and with the suspect passing the polygraph, you have no grounds to hold her any longer."

Briggs's face was livid.

He fixed me with a death glare, as if trying to dissect me with his eyes alone.

But eventually, he let out a frustrated sigh.

"You can go, Chloe," Briggs said, his voice heavy with a dark warning.

"But I'll be watching you."

"This case is far from over."

"And this so-called 'beast' of yours... it better not show up around you again."

Two hours later, I dragged my exhausted body out of the police station.

Since the dorm was cordoned off as an active crime scene, I had no choice but to head to the cheap basement apartment I rented off-campus.

The sky was a sullen gray, drizzling a light rain.

As I walked down the empty streets, I couldn't shake the feeling of unseen eyes watching me from the shadows.

I pulled my coat tighter around myself and quickened my pace.

The lie detector might have proven my innocence, but that creeping sense of dread still clung to me like a second skin.

Where exactly was the beast that tore Sloane and the others apart hiding right now?