The Shepherd X

"Seek Him who makes the Pleiades and Orion, who turns death into dawn, and darkens light until noon."

— Amos 5:8

Part I – The Obsession Grows

Lucas Kane couldn't stop thinking about him.

He hadn't slept well since he saw the Bible resting on Victor Kaine's body. Not since he first heard about the other similar murders. Not since Rebecca mentioned that name for the first time:

"The Pastor."

Sitting at his desk, Lucas reviewed a pile of reports — crime scene photos, personal notes, maps marking the locations of the killings. And always, in the middle of everything, that same biblical verse:

"Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear."

— What are you? — he murmured to himself. — A vigilante? A madman? Or something worse?

Reyes, his partner, glanced at him from across the room.

— Still stuck on this?

Lucas looked up.

— Yes. And I can't let it go.

Part II – A Map of Deaths

Lucas spread a large sheet of paper across his desk. He drew circles. Dots. Dates. Connections between the murders.

Each was spaced days apart. Each had the same signature. Each seemed part of a plan.

— It's not random — he said aloud. — This guy has a pattern. A methodology. And he's cleaning something up.

— Cleaning what? — Reyes asked.

— The city — Lucas replied. — Or at least, that's what he believes.

Reyes shook his head.

— That guy isn't a hero. He's a killer.

Lucas stared at him.

— If he kills criminals… who decides whether he's a monster or an angel?

There was a long silence. Then Reyes sat down across from him.

— Why does this case matter so much to you?

Lucas looked confused.

— Because it's important.

— No — Reyes said. — I don't mean why you're investigating. I mean why you. Why does this consume you?

Lucas lowered his gaze. He took a deep breath.

— My father died when I was twelve — he began. — They were robbing a store. He was just a customer. An innocent man. But he took a stray bullet. He died before reaching the hospital.

Reyes didn't say anything. He let Lucas continue.

— I remember how it felt. The pain. The helplessness. The feeling that no one would deliver justice. The police filed it as "accidental death." No one was punished.

He looked directly at Reyes.

— Since then, I decided that if I ever had power… I wouldn't let that happen again. I wouldn't let injustice go unanswered.

Reyes nodded slowly.

— So you're not just trying to catch this guy… you're looking for peace.

Lucas gave a sad smile.

— Maybe. Or maybe I'm just looking for answers I don't want to find.

Part III – A Midnight Visit

That night, Lucas went alone to one of the places where The Pastor had acted — the abandoned slaughterhouse.

The ceiling lights flickered. The air smelled of rust and dried blood. It was a cold, silent place, full of echoes.

He stayed there for a long time, studying every corner. Every stain on the floor. Every invisible footprint.

And as he did, he felt something.

Someone was watching him.

He turned toward the shadows.

Nothing.

But he knew he wasn't alone.

— If you're here — he said out loud — tell me who you are. Because if you're doing the right thing… I need to know.

Silence.

Only the wind passed through the rusted beams.

Lucas closed his eyes.

— Am I following a man… or God?

Part IV – The Trap

Two days later, Lucas received an anonymous call.

— There's someone who can help you find him.

The voice was distorted. Cold. Emotionless.

— Who?

— A man in the south district. Tell him you're coming from "the empty cross."

Lucas left alone.

When he arrived at the location, he entered an abandoned building. He called the number again.

No answer.

He heard footsteps. Turned around.

And then…

Everything happened fast.

A shadow appeared behind him. An arm grabbed his neck. A fist struck his face. Another. Another.

Lucas tried to fight back. He managed a few punches, but he was overpowered.

They slammed him against a wall. Split his lip. Twisted his arm.

A voice whispered in his ear:

— Stop following him. You'll never find him.

Then… darkness.

Part V – Wounds That Won't Heal

When he woke up, he was lying in an alley. Torn clothes. Swollen face. Dried blood on his forehead.

With trembling hands, he pulled out his radio.

— I need help… urgently.

As he waited, he looked up at the sky. The stars shone like silent witnesses.

— Why did You show me this… if You don't want me to find him?

There was no answer.

Only the sound of approaching sirens.

"Watch your feet, for you do not always walk in darkness; believe in the light, that you may become children of light."

— John 12:35