Leo searched her room once again. The Chief had told him to give it up—after all, even the police technicians couldn't find anything relevant here—and that he was wasting his time, which could be devoted to solving another case. However, Leo did not want to listen to anyone. Maybe it didn't make any difference to them whether she was alive or dead, but he couldn't accept that she had disappeared like that without a word. His partner would surely tell him if she'd just decided to drop everything and settle down somewhere far away. After all, they were friends, best friends. They had no secrets. He told her everything, and she did as well, so why would she leave without saying goodbye? He did not believe the version of events that the Chief and the rest of his colleagues were trying hard to push. Each of them already believed it because there were no signs of kidnapping or murder. The fact that she had not taken anything with her meant nothing to them; they had come up with a handful of different explanations for that. Besides, Leo knew very well that they didn't care about her, that's why it was so easy for them to believe she had just run away. But he did care—because his partner was the only person he could fully trust.

Leo searched the bed, the wardrobe, every drawer of the desk one more time, flipped through all the books, looked under the bed, the rug, even each of the four Kalanchoe flower pots that she loved so much... There had to be a trace here, something that would show him where she had disappeared to and why. He was losing his mind more and more with each passing second. After all, she couldn't have left without her clothes, books, computer, or phone. Nor did any money disappear from her account, and a quick check of her computer and phone clearly indicated that she had not purchased any tickets. Yes, she might have had cash with her and might have bought a ticket in person, but she would have had to enter her details, and checking with the airlines didn't produce any results. The Chief had also come up with an explanation for this: She didn't leave the country and was hiding out somewhere in the UK, hitchhiking. And she must have left her computer and phone so that no one would track her. Maybe that was a logical explanation, but Leo couldn't believe she would have left him without a goodbye or any explanation at all. No, that was definitely not what had happened. He had a strong feeling the truth was quite different, and Leo always trusted his instincts, which was how he had been able to solve so many complicated cases. He was a good detective after all.

He did have to admit one thing: the last few months had been really strange, like some kind of rollercoaster ride. Sometimes Leo regretted taking this damn case. If they hadn't, then maybe all of this wouldn't have happened and she would still be here. Yes, it was all inexplicable, weird, and seemed to have something supernatural about it, but Leo was one hundred percent guided by reason and still resisted believing in something like this. Yes, she had assured him that it was all real, but he was more inclined to believe that his partner had gone a little bit crazy due to stress and was having delusions, than that something supernatural was really going on here. Leo had never seen what she saw, had never heard whispers like she did, and that was the strongest indication that his partner was losing her mind. Yes, he had one strange dream in which he saw the creatures she talked about... But that meant nothing. It could have been the result of her constantly telling him about it, that was why he was dreaming about those creatures. But despite everything, a strange thought had crept up in his mind: Maybe they had taken her? Or maybe she went with them of her own free will? But why? He didn't believe that she would do anything to make these creatures angry. It was also hard for him to believe that she would want to leave with them.

Finally Leo shook his head, wanting to banish these absurd thoughts. After all, there were no such things. They didn't exist, so he shouldn't think about them. Leo was pretty sure someone had either kidnapped her or, worse, killed her. Of course, he prayed fervently that it was the first option, because then he had a chance of saving her. But even if...even if something worse had happened...Leo still had to find her anyway. Even if it was just her dead body.

Visiting her grave would be better than not knowing what had happened to her and where she was. It had only been two weeks since her disappearance, but if she was in any kind of danger, each day of delay would reduce the chances of finding her alive and in one piece. Besides, Leo had told her mother and grandmother that he didn't believe what the rest of the policemen were saying and had promised that he would find her. Leo wanted to find her, not only for himself, to get his friend back, but also, above all, for her family.

It was very difficult for him to go to Penarth and meet Mrs. Moore and her mother, even more so because he had to give them such bad news. Seeing their tearful eyes, Leo promised himself even more fervently that he would find Esther—no matter what. He couldn't give up and just turn back. Leo was sure he would find some clue eventually. He was a detective after all, right? This was what he was good at, finding clues that would solve a case. And this one was undoubtedly one of the most difficult, if not the most difficult.

Leo turned her room upside down and again found nothing. Resigned, he leaned his left hand on the door of large, dark brown wardrobe, but he soon was overcome with fury. He squeezed his right hand into a fist and pounded with all his strength on the wall in front of him. The wallpaper was almost completely ripped off, and you could see the grey bricks beneath, but Leo didn't think about it. He was only brought back to himself by the pain of hitting one of those bricks. He grabbed his hand and hissed for a while.

It was only when the pain eased that Leo looked back at the wall and saw that one of the bricks—probably the one he had hit—had moved slightly. When Leo looked at it closely, he noticed that the brick was not attached to the rest at all, so he grabbed it and took it out.

This brick was at least half the depth of the other bricks, and Leo immediately understood why when he saw a bundle in the hole. He put the brick on a nearby desk and reached deeper into the hole, pulling out something wrapped in a grey cloth. Leo unwrapped the slightly dusty cloth, and then saw a black A4 notebook. Putting the piece of cloth on the same desk with the brick, he turned the notebook over in his hands. Finally, Leo sat on the edge of the bed and untied the ribbon that held the front and back covers together. After opening the notebook, he saw his partner's personal details on the first page.

"This must be her diary," Leo thought.

"Maybe there's something here, some clue..." he realized after a short moment, and he immediately turned the page, slowly reading what was written there.

Sparkling angel, I believed You were my saviour in my time of need.

Blinded by faith, I couldn't hear All the whispers—the warnings so clear.

I see the angels. I'll lead them to your door.

There's no escape now, no mercy no more.

No remorse 'cause I still remember The smile when you tore me apart.

You took my heart, deceived me right from the start.

You showed me dreams. I wished they would turn real.

You broke the promise and made me realize It was all just a lie.

Sparkling angel, I couldn't see Your dark intentions, your feelings for me.

Fallen angel, tell me "why?"

What is the reason? The thorn in your eye.

(...)

Could have been forever, Now we have reached the end.

This world may have failed you.

It doesn't give you reason why.

You could have chosen a different path in life.

The smile when you tore me apart.

(...)

— Angels by Within Temptation

***

I chose this song as an introduction of sorts because it fits very well with the story I want to write down. Funny how this song (and even the music video for it) describes the legendary Scarlet Angels perfectly. As if the band had contact with these beings and experienced their activities personally. Of course, for most people, it's just a song and a 'cool idea' for lyrics and a music video. Probably no one would have thought that there might be a grain of truth in this idea—a group of angels punishing sinners. Most think it's symbolic. I don't know if anyone but me takes the text and video literally. Maybe there are others who believe in the existence of the Scarlet Angels, but unfortunately, I haven't found them. Yes, there was one person, but we never met, so I don't count that. In general, this legend is quite forgotten, remembered mainly by a small group of people from Wales—and those who like urban legends. But even they don't have much information. Most of it is guesswork or remembered from childhood fairy tales told by grandparents, like in my case.

You might ask: why isn't this legend more widely known? It is a really cool concept after all. Well, maybe there is a reason...maybe someone wants it to stay that way. I won't say much. In fact, it's probably be better if nobody reads this diary at all. If someone does find it, I hope they won't publish it as a book or something. I'm pretty sure it won't happen, though, because, as mentioned earlier, there are powers making sure that some secrets are not revealed.

So, if you found this diary and are thinking about publishing it to earn some quick money, I suggest you think twice. You may end up regretting it later. Trust me, whether if you believe in the supernatural or not, you won't want to take that risk. It's for your own good.

Why write this down at all then? I think it's mainly for myself, to stop myself from going completely crazy. I have to get it all out and put in order. Maybe if I read this again later, I will notice some piece of the puzzle that I missed. Yes, that would be a nice surprise for sure. If I could understand all of this, I would definitely feel much better, especially mentally. But on the other hand, I'm a little scared. I don't know how it all works. What if they know when someone is writing about them? Not necessarily publicly, but like, at all. What if this diary will incur their anger? What will happen to me if they come? Will they punish me? And if so, how?

Ah, so many questions and no answers... I probably know more about them than I should. Unfortunately, this knowledge does not answer any of my questions. Well, I think I'll take the risk and write it all down here. What will be, will be. At least my heart will feel lighter, even if the peace doesn't last long. I can't stand it any longer, keeping everything inside. I have this feeling that at any moment I'll completely lose my mind. That's why I have to write it all down and hide this notebook where no one can find it. Or at least, where no one is meant to find it. I have a feeling that if I disappear and they start looking for me, start searching my room, the only person who will discover this notebook is Leo. Of course, I would prefer that no one find it because I'm not sure if having this notebook will cause them trouble.

All the more reason for me not to want Leo to find it. Are you reding this now, Leo? If you found this notebook, stop reading and put it back where you found it. Believe me, it'll be better that way. I don't know if you will listen to me or not, but I'm asking you—no, I'm begging you, don't get involved in this. Just listen to your instincts and step back. If you get mixed up in this, your reason and common sense will not help you. This is illogical and supernatural; you cannot explain it away. I already told you about it, and I'll repeat it again. However, I hope you never read these words. My only wish is for you to stay safe. Okay, enough warnings, now let's get back to the main topic.

There's a story I heard when I was a girl. My grandma told me about it when a serial killer was going around our neighbourhood. I was so scared every time I left the house, even during the day, and I waited eagerly for the police to catch him. Then my grandma told me the legend of the Scarlet Angels, a group of Heavenly creatures, who dealt with the vilest of sinners—abusers, rapists, murderers, and terrorists—especially those who escaped punishment by human laws. She said that even if the police couldn't catch such a criminal, the Scarlet Angels would get him sooner or later and make him suffer as much as victims did. He would beg to die, regretting eluding the punishment of human law. It was kind of scary but also very comforting, even though I was a reasonable person and didn't believe in the supernatural. After many years, I totally forgot about this legend, but seeing as I chose to become a detective who chases the worst criminals, I guess I wanted to catch and punish those bad people myself, just like the Scarlet Angels. I've also realized recently that I had never seen any proof of their existence, so maybe I thought that we humans had to be like those Angels, since they were not real and wouldn't save us. But I never thought that after all these years I'd be proven wrong...

Anyway, before I tell you this story from the beginning to the end, let me introduce myself. My name is Esther Moore. I'm a 29-year-old Detective Inspector/Investigating Officer for the Criminal Investigation Department of the South Wales Police in Cardiff, Wales, United Kingdom. I've worked at the Cardiff Central police station for almost 6 years now. I fought through a lot of shit to prove to my superiors that I'm fit to be a detective, and a good one at that. Now, finally, most of them take me seriously, and I get a lot of difficult cases because they know only I can solve them. Even if some of them still make fun of me secretly, when a serious case appears, everyone suddenly needs my help. Whether they like it or not, they need me. But how did I ended up here, working as a detective?

As a little girl, I lived in a small town near Cardiff, very close to the sea, called Penarth. Most of you have probably never heard of it, but that's okay. It's really small. I lived there with only my mother and grandmother. My father died before I was born, and Mom didn't like to talk about him, except for the fact he was from Israel and had chosen my biblical name. I had wanted to become a detective ever since that serial killer threatened my town. I was scared. I wondered what would happen if the police couldn't manage to catch him. Then my grandmother told me the legend of the Scarlet Angels, who punished the worst criminals that had escaped justice here on Earth. But since I never believed in the supernatural and thought this was just a fairy tale, I figured that humans had to become like those Angels—trying their best to catch these criminals. I didn't want to imagine superheroes as a way to justify not fighting for a better world myself. That's what motivated me to focus on my dream of becoming a detective. That's why I worked hard to be one of the best students at the Police Academy and finally made my dream come true. Despite many hardships, the majority because I'm a woman, and thanks to my determination, I managed to secure a position in the Criminal Investigation Department, and I was even promoted to Inspector at a fairly young age. Now I'm one of the best detectives, along with my friend and partner, Leo. We form the so-called Amazing Duo.

People describe my beauty as average, but they call me very intelligent, independent, honest, and direct. Also my endurance and strength outmatch that of many of my colleagues. Only Leo knows the softer side of my nature, like the fact that I'm very empathetic and willing to help, because he's the only one I can truly trust. To others, we seem very close—some even gossip about a potential romance—but to me, Leo is only a close friend, almost like the older brother I always dreamed of having. I'm sure he also only considers me a friend. His full name is Leopold Evans, and he is 33 years old. Leo is very professional in his work, has an excellent memory, and is very physically fit. Handsome and intelligent, he has a lot of admirers, but despite his popularity, Leo is not interested in dating—at least, that's what he always says. Leo can come off as very cold and serious, but I know he's a nice guy, just a bit introverted. I'm the only woman Leo pays any attention to, which is why I'm not surprised that there are so many rumours. Most of them were probably started by our jealous female colleagues. Another thing, Leo is very sceptical when it comes to supernatural phenomena. He has to see something to believe it, and he wants to understand and explain everything using logic. All illogical things he considers impossible, so even though Leo is my best friend, I never mentioned the Scarlet Angels to him before. I didn't feel like getting into that kind of discussion with him; I felt it would lead to unnecessary conflicts. Admittedly, not very serious ones, which probably wouldn't last long, but I preferred to avoid them anyway. Why add more stress? Our job is stressful enough.

My mother is Lauren Moore. Now 48 years old, she raised me alone with the help of her mother, my grandmother. I'm still a little upset that my mom won't tell me who my father is; she hasn't even revealed this secret to her own mother. Apart from that, however, she is a loving mother, and I know in my heart that I'm the apple of her eye. Because of this, my mom can be overprotective, but I'm sure it's only out of concern and she tries not to restrict me too much, especially now that I'm an adult.

Eloise Moore is my grandmother. She's 70 years old, and her maiden name is Reed. She's lived in Penarth all her life, as a housewife taking care of Lauren and her older brother, Ethan, while her husband, Nathaniel Moore, worked maintaining and repairing rich people's yachts. His workshop was located by the sea, near the Penarth Yacht Club. In 1986, when my mom was 16 and Uncle Ethan was 18, their father, my grandfather, died after being stabbed by an unknown criminal when he was coming home from work one evening. The murderer was never found, but my grandmother claims that the Scarlet Angels visited her in her dreams, telling her that justice had been done and the killer had been punished. Up until then, she had only heard the stories of these Angels; she only came to believe in them after having this dream. And that's why she told me the legend of the Scarlet Angels when I was scared of the serial killer terrorizing our neighbourhood.

My uncle, Ethan Moore, is 50 years old and a soldier in The Royal Welsh, one of the large infantry regiments in the British Army, so I rarely see him. I've heard from my grandmother and mom that he is now a Lieutenant General. Because of his job, I only used to see him once a year, and that's why I hardly remember him. Now, after moving to Cardiff for work, I see him even less. My work schedule is almost always packed, and I rarely have time to visit my mom and grandma in Penarth. Uncle Ethan also often visits them when I can't come, so all I can do is call him, sometimes on video call to see his face. Although I have only a few memories of my uncle, each one is good, so he is definitely not a bad person. Grandma says Uncle Ethan is just a male version of my mom, except that he was made to be a soldier. Due to his job, my uncle also has no wife or children. Once, when I asked about it, he told me that his job carried a risk of death, so he didn't want to make any more people unhappy; it was enough for him to have a mother, sister, and niece.

Going back to my father, at first I really wanted to meet him, and when I found out that he was dead, I wanted to at least learn something about him. That's why, especially as a teenager, I was very angry with my mother for hiding everything about him. We argued about it all the time, especially after I went to ask my grandma about my father and it turned out that she didn't know anything about him either. The only thing I could find out was that my mother met him while on vacation in Egypt. He was from Israel. They spent two weeks together, and when my mother returned home, she found out that she was pregnant. I know that during the first years of my life, my mother received money from him, and when he died, my father left all the money he had to me. There was a lot of it, and thanks to my mother's frugality and the fact that she worked anyway, most of that money was spent on my studies. I was grateful for such a gift, but I always wondered why my father never came to see me, at least when he was still alive. At first it made me angry. My first thought was that, for some reason, my father didn't want me and had sent the money out of a sense of duty. It was also very likely that he was married and had only had a summer affair with my mother. After a while, however, I began to realize that there could be many other reasons. The fact that he died almost two years after my birth could indicate that my father was terminally ill and that his brief romance with my mother was his last shot at love before he died. It would also explain why my father never came to see me. Perhaps he simply couldn't because his condition had worsened. Of course, this was all a guess, and perhaps I stuck with the second version simply because I wanted to believe my father was a good man. Besides, he had given me my name, which meant he must have cared about me. And on top of that, it was a biblical name, which was certainly important to him as he was from Israel and was probably a religious man. Why would he name me if I were just a mistake, made on the spur of the moment? I thought about it for a long time and was more and more sure that the second version was much closer to the truth. 

Well, now that I've introduced myself more or less, it's time to tell my story. If anyone ever reads this, I'm sure it will be hard to believe. They will probably conclude that this is the diary of a crazy woman. It wouldn't surprise me at all. I can hardly believe it myself, and until now, I wondered if it wasn't just a product of my sick imagination. However, everything that has happened in the last few months has felt so real... Could it all just be a sign that I've lost my mind? I'd really rather believe that everything I've lived through is real, from start to finish. Just as I believe my father was a good man.

Anyway, here's my story about the Scarlet Angels and what might be the last case of my detective career—or maybe even my life.