Eyes of a Killer

[Endgame]

I feel... Nothing?

Josh stared at the knife that lay on the bed between his naked thighs, contemplating what he'd just done. His head rested in his hands, perched on the side of a cheap hotel bed, eyes wide. It had been... so easy. Easier then he thought. From the moment she'd opened her mouth on that streetcorner, he'd known, from the very start, what she was.

"It's not a crime is it? To kill an animal?" He muttered, without looking over his shoulder. The blood was soaking into the sheets.

"It's only murder to kill a human. Not you. You were something less then human. A parasite. That's what I killed. As simple as white blood cells killing a virus. That's no crime. That's natural order."

At first, the cut in her neck had been so thin, so insignificant. A tiny red line. The fluid had spreak since. The glistening, naked body marred by rivers of crimson running down across her shoulders.

He stood up, walking to the balcony, to stand unclothed in the moonlight, looking out over the city.

Parasites. So many parasites. There wern't enough white blood cells to kill them all. They kept breeding and corrupting this world.

What society needed was an anti-virus.

But first... he needed to cleanse his existance from this room. He'd touched nothing with his fingers except the knife, a six-inch combat blade. He scooped that up to take with him. They'd never know he was here.

But he hesitated, thinking for a moment. Holding the knife at the ready, he approached his victim. She was already dead. What was a few more cuts?

As he pried the door open, using his shirt to prevent his fingers touching the knob, a series of thin red lines sparkled fresh on her abdomen.

Carved in flesh, the word 'Infection' glistened in the moonlight.



12 hours later

"Detective!"

Uniformed officers crawled across the hotel. They stood guard outside a door wrapped in crime scene tape. This grimy, decaying hotel was now a hive of law. Ranking officers barked orders, groups of gloved forensic officials scurrying back and forth carrying tiny plastic bags.

"What do we have?" The detective who had been adressed inquired.

"Female, aged 29. We havn't identified her yet. Believed to be a street-worker. Her throat was slit."

The small knot of men awaited the detective's reply. He didn't. He merely pulled out his mobile and started dialing.

The precinct's muder investigation team would be here in less then half an hour. They'd solve this case. He could guarantee it.

Rules

1. You may not post in this thread unless you have joined in the signup thread.

2. You must be realistic. Your character gets shot, you don't just shrug it off, even if it isn't mortal.

3. If you get too badly injured, you end up in hospital. If you're a Killer, you'll be detained upon recovery. But if they don't have any evidence on you, they can't hold you.

4. Reasonable extrapolation. If the killer's taken the murder weapon from the scene, it's safe to assume that they've dumped it somewhere nearby. Feel free to have police officers locate evidence for you (Or in the case of Lone Wolves, find it yourself) But it will take some time and careful searching to find items such as this. Don't have your character find unreasonably massive amounts of evidence every few steps.

5. You all know the rules. You all know what not to do in terms of RPing itself. I shouldn't have to remind any of you of them.

6. Time. At the top of many of my posts, I will add a time indicator. Eg. [The following events take place between the hours of 7 and 9 AM, on Monday the 30th]
This is to help keep everyone on the same time, which is important, because after each murder, unless something important storyline-wise is going on, we'll timeskip to the law arriving on the scene the next day. (Or whenever it's discovered.)

Everyone, let's synchronise our watches!

[Ulti]

"Must be go through this every time, Darrell?"

A young woman, clad in clothing that could only be found by using a time machine, was tapping her foot in irritation at the detective. By her side was a rugged looking dog, most likely a blood hound with an unknown minor breed in his blood. She stared long and hard at the detective long and hard. Finally, he broke the silence.

"How did you-"

"Is that what you really want to waste your one question on, Darrell?"

The detective was silent for a moment. He knew who this character was. Anyone with a high rank knew this woman. A brilliant reporter with a knack at telling the media what the police knew before the police even knew what they were supposed to know. As far as he could see, there were two ways he could handle her. The first and instinctive approach would be to shove her off. The logical, as far as logic could exist with this woman involved could go, would be to let her in. Maybe she could tell him something before one of those brown nosers took his case away from him. Reason and logic, once the best of friends, fought each other mercilessly. Reason was starting to come out on top.

"Show the proper identification or else get your a-"

He was caught by surprise when she thrust her wallet towards him. He expected this woman to make up some excuse about having the paperwork in another trench coat. He flipped it open and began to rummage through the mess. Paper bills, drivers license, credit cards, but nothing to say she was allowed to be here. Or was she showing him something else?

"Left sleeve, second from the bottom. Wouldn't you say that this case is ironic? No? Well, to me, that if you are on the case, it would be hilariously ironic..."

The last words had a slight uplift to them. Annoyed, the detective flipped open the left side of the wallet, ready to send this little girl packing. The words died on his lips. All he could manage was a dry cough. He looked up to find the woman still staring at him. There was no mercy in her eyes. She was fully prepared to show her "identification" to others if he continued to be a pest. With a sigh, he gave in.

"Good boy. Now, I hope I can be your helper once the team arrives. I know how they can be as protective as a horny dolphin with anger issues. I promise. I'll just take with me a pencil and paper. Five feet away from the corpse. No touchy."

The blood hound seemed to give a small growl at this. The woman leaned over and pat his head reassuringly. She snatched the wallet from the detective as he jumped at the dog's sudden vocal appearance.

"Just assurance, you see. Faze will stick outside if things don't go my way. Are we good, Darrell?"

The detective could only nod. As the woman left to talk of pleasantries with the others, he leaned back against the wall and sighed a deep, heavy breath. He did not notice that before the woman left, she was writing something down on a pad of paper.

Ravening Raven Reports Rapidly on Ridiculous Racket

[Bleeding Soul]

Ashton could only sigh as he was continually frustrated by the newest of murder cases. At the base of his "ulcer-to-be" was the fact that the man that he was sent after has eluded his department ever since before he even joined them. Second to that was an incompetent partner that decided not to show up for some unknown reason. Lastly there was the issue about one of the local officers not being able to keep out a pesky reporter before any evidence could even be gathered. All in all, he was not having a good day and he didn't need the possibility that this crime is possibly not connected the the man that he needs. He had even tried to find the reporter that the local officer had let through but she was proving to be as elusive as the killer that he needed. He eventually gave up on searching for the woman and decided to lean against a cruiser while he had a cigarette.

Just as he had put the lit butt to his lips for a second intake, someone walks up to him and says, "Why the hell are you here? Don't you belong in the Cheif's office or something?"

Ashton didn't want to deal with an insubordinate rookie so he takes a hefty gulp of the smoke and holds it before blowing it out into the face of the man. Oops. "I'm afraid that you don't need to know why I'm here. I'm only going to disclose that information to someone who actually has some rank around here." He inhales again and starts to relax until he catches sight of a dog. That's funny. They didn't bring in the K-9 Unit. With that in his mind and puts out the cigarette under his foot and makes his way towards the dog. Lucky for him the dog was attached to a leash that was in turn attached to the woman that he was looking for. He easily cuts off the woman in her path looks to her from behind the black sunglasses. He wasn't much for sterotypes but the sun was starting to get bright and he needed his eyes to see. "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Miss." Somewhat out of character for him but he could care less. All he needed to do was get the civilian out of the area before he got into trouble. "If you're going to tell me the old line that you're with the press and people have the right to know, then please be patient. We'll divulge info to the press once we actually have the info. So please leave and wait for a call. And if you're a good girl and listen, I just might convince the local authorities to give you an exclusive." He knew that most reporters would kill for that exclusive, especially coming from an FBI Agent, but something was different about this one. He quickly cast aside that thought and blamed it on his lack of breakfast.

[Ulti]

Ah, finally! Raven would have her story. And not some second rate gig too. This was a fresh crime. Even she could smell the blood from the outside. Faze pawed at the small opening between the door and the floor. He was eager to finish this story off as well. His heritage howled to him to lead his master to the target. He could smell the target. There was just this silly door in his way. He whined to his master to open the door like she always did. But it seemed Raven had to get through another door first. A softer, fleshier door.

Raven was not completely taken by surprise. She did not think her plan would get her this far. When the detective actually caved in, she could skip and do a back flip in joy. And now there was the matter of this new pest. The FBI ( or as Raven named it, the Friggen Bothersome Idiots ) were not so easily handled as your average detective or officer. Another approach was needed to challenge this oaf.

"Reporter? Oh, I see. This get-up. Yes, I have been mistaken for a reporter many times before. I am simply a witness of Detective Darrell here. Isn't that correct, Mr. Darrell?"

The detective, hesitating for a second, nodded. Raven, without batting an eyelash, told a tale of a strange man bringing in one of the regular ladies into her regular room. She was the only one who noticed the man leaving without the woman. Raven merely wanted to be here to identify the body quickly so the investigators ("might I say what a brilliant team they are" ) could finish this up as soon as possible. It was bad for business to have a dead body staining your sheets.

"If you still doubt my story, you could ask the manager of this fabulous establishment. I am a friend of the family, per say. I help him out time to time. Such a hard task for such an elderly man."

At this, the bloodhound gave a giant sniff. He let his tongue droop out of his mouth, hanging over the side of his jaws. Three of his fangs, due to an unfortunate accident during birth, jutted out of his closed jaws. The detective thought grimly that the dog was giving the FBI officer a twisted grin. To suit her canine companion, Raven gave an equally twisted smile of her own. But to those who had not dived into the mind of the Raving Raven ( and to those who actually surfaced never tried this stunt again ) would only see an innocent young girl giving a smile of admiration at her superiors.

Many would come to believe that Raven lied. This only insults Raven. A reporter never lies unless she has to. The bit about the mistaken identity was obviously a lie. But it could not have been avoided. Some lies lead to the truth, as Raven would say. Her cover about the manager was completely true. Raven often scouted this area for new information on crimes of the sexual nature. With a little "haggling", Raven convinced the manager of one establishment to become an informer. Through him Raven kept an eye on many happenings of a sexual nature.

The only odd part, the only thing that even stumped Raven, was that she was never told of this event.

[Bleeding Soul]

Ashton just stood there as the woman tried to explain to him that she was simply a witness to the crime and even added onto it a life story. This last part annoyed him a little but he couldn't help but feel that there was some inconsitency with what she told him. He would normally put this off as a bit of paranoia but he decided to go with what he felt this time around. He patiently waited until the woman was done and even gave him a bit of a smile that almost made him laugh. Well, they do say that the owners look like their pets. He took in a deep breath and looked down into her eyes. "Regardless of you being a witness, it is against regulations to have civilians in the crime scene. Now, if you would, please stand over there with the rest of the 'concerned' people and wait to be called." He knew that this wasn't likely to get her away because she was proving the be quite stuborn. This actually please Ashton because she didn't know how stuborn he himself could be.

Before she had time to respond to his comments, Ashton had already grabbed a passing officer and asked the man to escort the young woman across the border. The man nodded at the order from his superior and started to work on a way to get the woman back to where she was needed. Ashton took this time to see about increasing the security of the area and told another officer, one with rank, that noone is to get within fifty feet of the crime scene unless word had been given from either himself or the highest of the ranking officers in the area. He then remembered something that the woman had said and told the same man to go and get the statement of the woman and the manager of the estate for reference once he has passed on the message. The man nodded at the order and vanished from where he stood to carry out what he had been told.

[Flower]

"The usual, Alexandra?"

Xandra dropped a large pile of papers onto her desk with one hand and looped her dark hair into a bun with a pen in the other hand. "Decaf this time." she told him as he scribbed it down on a scrap piece of paper.

You'd think working here--where crime is the enemy and you were justice--would be just a little more exciting. Just a little more, right? True, she was asking for too much--crime is something you'd never want to happen, to discourage, to abolish, to make sure you had everything in your power to make sure it never happens again.

Then again, you haven't met this woman, have you?