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Rated: 13+ · Other · Detective · #1822277
This isn't done, it is just barely started. I am looking for comments.
Part One:

         Following the heart beat, atall well dressed man walks down the alley, hearing only the small fragile voice he has been focusing in on. Her breathe comes in short frightened gasps. She huddles in a small dark corner, trying to make herself as small as possible. Hiding from everything around her, her pursuers, time, her own raw nerves, the stink of the street, the small rodents that share her hiding place, the world in general. Her long dark hair hangs in sweaty threads around her face, as if trying to shield her from her pursuers. Large brown doe eyes stare out at the world with fear. They dart back and forth at every little sound, the limits of sanity are beginning to wear thin, and it shows just behind those roaming eyes.

         His footsteps precede him bringing terrified, yet muffled squeaks with each in drawn breath. Even if he could not hear her, her fear drew him to her... like a bee to the sweet nectar of a spring flower, he could follow that scent for days, relishing the scent of her fear. So innocent it was, so young, so pure. IF it weren’t for the masters orders... he would let it take him... carry him away to that dark place he loved so much. That place filled with the glorious scents of death, fear, and blood, always the blood.

         The rodents instinctually move away from him, making way for the larger predator. Yet they lurk just behind him, hoping to feast on the carrion they expect him to leave behind.  He stalks slowly toward her hiding place, each step bringing him pleasure beyond any other kind he knows. His fists eagerly clenching in rhythm with her frightened heart, each time he envisions his hand closing over her mouth, the other in her hair as he drags her to her feet. He has been forbidden from actually speaking to her... but that is fine. He doesn't need words to get his point across to his prey. Saliva slides down one side of his face as he crookedly smiles, lost in imagination for a moment.

         Through the dark alley he stalks and she cries, he hungers and she sobs, he relishes and she prays, her whispers coming in sobbing gasps and floating down the alley.  Now his pleasure was rising with her terror, until the two emotions collide as the melody of their encounter ends abruptly in her scream and his low laughter fading away into the night. He drags her to her feet; she is sobbing and half heartedly struggling. He is giggling, the sound of pure madness coming from his crooked smile. He whips her around to meet his gaze, the bloodlust burning in his eyes. Her terror drips from her in nearly palpable waves, emanating with each ragged sobbing breathe. The large man leans close, inhales deeply through his nose as his eyes close, obviously relishing the scent of fear. His eyes snap open and his smile widens. Whatever she sees there, her sanity breaks. She lets loose one maddening screams and gives way to the darkness, falling limp in the arms of the monster.

         At the end of the alley, a single black town car pulls up and stops long enough for the tall, well dressed man to carry the limb body of an unconscious woman to it. Gently, almost tenderly, he places her into the car before him. He waits patiently while a faceless voice calls from the front seat. He laps at the praise like the beast he is... he knows his place. He has pleased his master and now he will have his reward. A key ring falls to his feet, thrown from the front seat of the vehicle as it drives away. On the red metallic key chain hang one key, the number 8 and the words "The Peacock Palace." He grins and stretches as he picks up the room key and wanders away to relish in the masters rewards.

         Meanwhile, a handsome, elegantly dressed gentleman quietly soothes the frightened young woman as the car drives away from the ugly scene. As she wakes, he hands the woman a handkerchief from the lapel pocket of his jacket. He speaks softly, offering her aid and solace from her horrible experience. He soothes her with clear water from the small mini fridge between them. He makes no other move towards her.

         She is asleep soon, the water nearly spilling out of the bottle if it weren't for the deft hand of the gentleman sharing the back seat with her. He smiles as he places the lid back on the bottle and throws it out the window. He watches her as the car pulls onto the free way. He smiles curiously at the small ticks of fear that play across her face in her sleep. Wondering at her nightmares, he places a blanket over her lap and sits back comfortably.

(Not completed)

Part Two:

         A young patrolman ran from the scene gagging, as Detective Trelaine walked up to the hotel room door. She was wearing her usual morning attire, which consisted of dark slacks and a jewel toned blouse. Usually loose and flowing well, it allowed for the odd positions she sometimes took looking for a suspect or collecting odd evidence, but still looked professional. Today her shirt was covered by a calf length trench. Black and stunning, it was a new acquisition and she was proud of it. But she knew it would go unnoticed here. There were far too many faces here that were pale and a bit on the green side. She turned a corner, there she was stopped by her partner, aside from looking slightly paler than usual and a little ruffled about the edges, detective Garrant seemed his usual stuff. He was dressed in a suit and tie, always professional, always well kept. Today was no different, aside from the obvious signs of nerves; he looked as if he had just stepped out of a catalog.

         She hands him the extra coffee in her hand as she nods toward the large red door with the number eight hanging off it by one rusty nail in the center.

         “So, what have we got in there? Given the rookie ... “She lets her sentence trail there, jerking a thumb back over her shoulder where she can still hear him retching if she tries. She knows her partner understands what she is asking, they have been together for a few years now, and homicide is used to rookies.

         “It's bad Kim, really bad... the other guys wanted me to warn you... so you have to make me proud. “ Garrant says to her, a playful smirk coming to his face.

         “Good Lord, how much did you win this time? I swear I am going to start taking a cut ...” she started with mock disgust as she pushes past him and into the room. Her coming tirade is cut short by the sight of what is left of a woman on the bed. Her mind reels for a moment, trying to take in the scene all at once. So much blood, it couldn't be from one body... it is always the first thought in these type of cases. The next thought causes an automatic defense mechanism to kick in. It is this mechanism that makes her so very good at her job.  Like a switch, her mind becomes a coldly logical calculating machine. It was why Niles made so much money at the crime scene. His partners mind went into computer mode and just began to analyze, all the while screaming like a frightened rabbit in the background.

         Of course the blood is usually all theirs, the human body holds a lot of blood... especially if drained correctly. But this body wasn't so much drained as it was dismantled, as if parts of her were used to paint the walls with her blood and whatever else had been smeared there. Those will have to be tested too, thought Kim, refusing to see a body... just another scenario. Have to ensure they are hers. Taking in the scene, she doubted they would get lucky with this psycho. There was most likely nothing of him in here. Not a fingerprint, hair sample, semen sample, or even the random flake of skin. It took a special kind of psychopath to tear apart a body and paint the walls with the fluids. Anyone that callus would not be careless enough to leave anything behind. He would have learned that lesson already. … Probably has a record of some precursor crimes.

         “So, how much is it? I am taking a cut this time... I'll have earned it!” She threw back over her shoulder as she set to work, chuckling over the amazed and disappointed exclamations that were thrown back at her. As she lost herself in the scene she heard Niles Garrant tell someone to pay up so he could get to work. Meanwhile, in the back of her head, she imagined what she would like to do to this maniac when she caught him. She had great plans she could never carry out. That wasn't her job. Just find him and catch him… The system does the rest.

(Not yet finished)

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