Chapter 1

First chapter of a first draft. Be harsh and be honest.

1

Elias Riggs was not afraid of anything except small tight spaces. Every night, regardless if it snowed or rained he slept with the window open. He would rather freeze to death because at least in the sharp bite of cold air he could breathe.

But tonight the warmth was a blanket he could not shed. It clung to his skin desperate to find life pulsing beneath it, except all that ran through Riggs' veins was the thirst for adventure. He twisted and turned, dancing with the covers, as he fought for a sleep that would not come. His ears perked up to listen for the steady rhythm of his aunt's breath in the other room.

Riggs jumped out of the bed that was not his, eager to get out of this room that was not his either. He put on his tattered sneakers and grabbed his phone and the leather jacket his grandfather had worn. It smelled of cigar smoke and old books and as a result, so did Elias. Despite the late July heat, he never went anywhere without it. Riggs climbed out the open window and let the night air swallow him whole. At once he felt free and himself and a little less homesick. He walked along roads full of suburban houses, all of them still as if time itself had stopped. As he checked his phone a sickly white light illuminated his face, imprinting the numbers 02:38 onto his irises. He dialed the one person he knew was awake. It rang and in moments a husky voice answered.

"You better be dying or held at gunpoint because you just interrupted my very sacred middle-of-the-night-sandwich time."

"Ace, I am devastated to announce that my life is not currently being threatened, but I am very close to dying of boredom."

"And you want me to come and serenade you?"

"Close. Meet me at "Betsy's" in fifteen minutes."

An annoyed groan echoed through the speaker before abruptly hanging up.

***

Ace sipped a strawberry milkshake as the waitress took Riggs' order. She looked like she was one shift away from quitting this job.

"I'll have one plain burger and an iced caramel crunch extra chocolate drizzle with marshmallows, please." He beamed two shiny rows of imperfect pearls.

The waitress shot daggers with her eyes and left without a word.

"You are sick."

"I know what joy tastes like, if that's what you mean."

Ace's eyeballs almost rolled right off his face.

The smell of grease wafted through the diner. Checkered tiles, bright red booths and a barely working neon sign. "Betsy's" hadn't changed in decades. It was a quiet night with the town fast asleep, silence falling across the lit up streets outside the diner. The air smelled of nostalgia and reminded people of all the summers they had lived before this one. Inside, the tables were mostly empty with exception to a few scattered regulars. Two of which were boys too mature to be out drinking and too young to sit amongst the men with many decades to her name.

"We have a new lead." Riggs leaned in with a wild look in his eyes. "I was scouring for murders with a similar MO in Connecticut. I found one with our killer's exact signature dating back just 11 months ago." His hands flailed around as he explained, mirroring the vibrancy in his voice. "Emily Hudson, 20 years old. Stab wounds in vital arteries around the heart, no signs of struggle though. They found traces of estazolam in her blood and she had symbols carved into the skin on her forearms, similar to the previous victim. The playing card was in her mouth. And guess who just happens to be her cousin?"

Ace blinked twice.

"You're supposed to ask who." Riggs furrowed his brows.

A tired breath escaped Ace's lungs and in a monotone voice he asked, "Who?"

"Ophelia Bernard."