The Eighth Case (4)

I sit at my desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard, Manson's words echoing in my mind. The thought of actively seeking his advice makes my skin crawl. He's a monster, a manipulator responsible for unspeakable acts. Every fiber of my being rebels against the idea of turning to him for help.

And yet...

I close my eyes, wrestling with the internal conflict. If there's even a chance his insight could help us catch this killer, save potential future victims, don't I have a responsibility to explore it?

After a long moment, I make my decision. Swallowing my revulsion, I think, "Alright, Manson. Tell me more. What should I be looking for?"

I can almost feel his smug satisfaction as he begins to speak.

"Now you're thinking, piggy. Let me tell you about the people who came to my Family. They weren't outcasts or obvious misfits. No, they were often the ones you'd least expect. Clean-cut kids from good homes, bright students, even a few professionals."