6

Sam,the forensic mortuary technician,took off her gloves and sat beside Detective Hilton. "I've to say,Detective Hilton,this person has to be a psycho."

"What bothers me is the consistency in the patterns of death. It's almost like the killer wants to be discovered." Dennis concurred. "The first victim was killed with a clean bullet wound to the head. It was hard to determine if the shot was made by a second party or by the victim. Another major reason we debunked it the first time to be suicide was the location of her body."

"The second victim had a similar bullet wound to the head." Sam reminded.

"Hard to forget. Especially when she was cut up into two. Only a psycho does that. The first shot killed her,according to your reports. The sawing of her body is baseless. Hell,a second shot was so unnecessary-"

"Yet,she's got two extra bullets wounds estimated to be at least a day older." Sam pulled out her glasses,fixed them on her face and dragged a file towards them. She opened up the file and spread out some pictures. "If you see the circles from the hole on her head here,it is much fresher than the one to her chest. She pointed as she spoke. "Here. See the difference in pigmentation? We had them snapped when she was first brought in."

Dennis rubbed on his head. "The latest victim?"

"Bullet wound. Same bullet size,more intensity. It,most probably,would've been up close." And it was,Dennis thought.

"Any other findings?"

"Signs of rape and struggle on V3. Lost three fingers. We found clothing under her remaining fingers. Girl really fought back. She was also pregnant. Lost the fetus". 

"How old was the pregnancy?"

"Ben would run that up today but I figured since it was more blood than form,it was also in the first trimester. And that would form a pattern."

Dennis stood up to pace. The killer,whoever he was,just kept getting worse. The first victim had to be his first kill and then,he got really into the kills. But then,why young single mothers to be? And why kill them all in their first trimester?

"Thank you Sam. I'll need that file". Without requesting,he took the file off the table and dashed off.

"He's going to stew about the findings for an hour or two." Garrett who had been silently by the side finally spoke up.

"Tell me about it. He works so hard."

"Too hard. Marilyn always found a way to get his moves on brakes."

Sam felt pity as she wore back her gloves. "Too bad she had to die so young".

~

She called in at work,all flustered from the series of questioning everyone seemed to not mind throwing her way. Her dad had travelled back to England since he was due for a business trip to Sweden with his pals. Carol had sat forever in her neatly and constantly fussed about garden,sipping a cup of black coffee and swiping through Instagram. Leah had felt more sick than she actually should;the doctor had given her the go-ahead with your life thumbs up. Regardless,she left. Being unconscious for a day had been the rest her body needed. She knew why she had felt annoyingly cranky and sick though,surges of claustrophobia ran through her body. Spending days cooped up in a room and doing nothing just wasn't her. She could catch up on her stories but her books weren't with her and her laptop had blood on it so the detective had held onto it.

The hell with the whole bloody business! She had a guard(who currently wasn't present,hallelujah) with a face more serious than a hungry bouncer barring people off the club. She had a healing bullet wound. She had a nasty ass mother who didn't care. She had a travel around the world dad who supported more with finances that presence. And boy,she had a growing baby! A fucking CHILD! It was no surprise she closed her eyes for a minute,took in the gentle breeze and let out a breathe. She was probably overreacting. Maybe this was annoying but maybe it,also,was necessary. Maybe her over active mind had decided to conjure up stories for her to live in. Maybe she'd never been so wrong,she thought as she felt the wound again.

But whatever,her mind was a web of confusion. She was tangled up in all her thoughts.

The minutes at her childhood home had morphed into hours and gently into days. She was back to her apartment but she felt useless. It was the weekend. A Sunday. Feeling more energious than the previous days,she did a deep cleansing of her house before heading out for grocery shopping. She was about heading to the car before remembering it was due for repairs,with a sigh,she vacated the building. She hailed a cab.

The familiar noise of teenagers shuffling around-probably buying something for a high school event,babies crying,toddlers running for one naughty moment and the silent scolds from mothers as they fix something they definitely didn't need back on the shelves relaxed her. She scooped out her mental list and picked a big bottle of diet soda.  The mall was jammed today.

Forty five minutes later,she was in a shoe section after deciding to buy herself a shoe to celebrate not dying.

"That'll look good on you" She heard someone say.

Always one for small talks,she smiled at the blue boots she held. "I'm torn between this and the light purple". She showed the dark haired guy the purple still sitting on the counter. He picked them up to observe and she quietly did the same. She observed his features. He looked familiar with that striking blue eyes and almost black hair. His build was impressive and he was way taller than her. "What do you think?" She quickly asked when their eyes met.

"The blue compliments your eyes better. I know its a footwear but there's nothing as subtle as footwear when you want to accentuate on your eyes and skin."

She smiled,nodding. "Are you the shop assistant?"

"No,I just thought you looked so confused." He shook his head and let the smile reach his face. That was...weird.

"But this shop sells just female footwear." Alarm bells rang in her head and without realising,her breath hitched. 

"Oh that,I came to pick something up for my sister. You know how they are...you should be someone's sister. Her birthday's today and she'll kill me if I attend dinner without a birthday present."

She took the second half of the blue pair and smiled nervously. "Happy shopping then" She almost raced to the cashier,paid for the deserved boots and stalked to the driveway. 

Taking a moment to calm her racing heart,she held a palm against her chest and rested on a car. With her head hung low,she noticed a big pair of black boots walk towards her before changing course. The bells rang louder this time. She was frightened. She searched for anything she could use for a fight in her grocery bag. Almost everything was canned. Maybe she could use the jar of peanut butter to smash his skulls. And then,a car started. She realised with a start that she had walked into the driveway.

Putting herself back in order,she left to hail a cab. Nerves,thats what it is. A little post trauma stress disorder from the shooting incident. Why did the world have to be so male populated? she thought as the driver spared her a glance from the mirror. She willed him with her eyes to not inquire about her. She didn't want to talk. She just wanted to be home. She wanted Masai.

She told herself it was nerves even as she walked back home with a keen sense of being followed.

And nerves,it wasn't. Because right on her door,a simple note was pinned. "I See You",it read. What terrified her most was the bold red each letter was written with. It dripped. Each fucking letter dripped red.