El Mano: this is a Saints row Fan fiction. All content is a work of fiction and parody, and in no way represents any elected officials, personal opinions or beliefs, closed or ongoing investigations, and or persons of interest. I thank you for your time and I hope you enjoyed it.

Driving down the recently renovated streets of Stillwater, The Boss, a woman of russian descent spoke with a heavy accent while looking at her second in command, Johnny Gat, with uncertainty. "Are you sure this one man is worth all this trouble?" The boss turned a sharp left and the garbage truck she drove screeched its protest to such a demanding turn. Johnny smirked behind his sunglasses.

"Trust me boss, this guy is the real deal." Johnny leaned out of the window and shot at the pursuing police officers. Currently the Butcher of Stillwater and the infamous Johnny Gat were wreaking havoc in a maximum security federal penitentiary, trying to find Cell Block D.

"Tell me how you met him again," The Boss asked. Johnny smiled as his ak-47 punched through the following police cruisers' engine block causing the vehicle to slow down and get rear ended by a following cruiser creating a major pile up. It wouldn't stop a pursuit, but it would slow the officers down.

Johnny sat back in his seat and reloaded, "we met when I was locked up after you went and got blown up." The Boss looked over and snorted as she rammed straight through the opening of cell block D. as they jumped out, they were immediately jumped by correctional officers. The Boss and Johnny beat them back and shot them dead. Johnny continued his story, "Of course I wasn't a hundred percent, but that didn't mean that those other gang bangers that Troy bagged wouldn't try to kill me to make a name for themselves." Johnny bashed his rifle into an inmates face and fired three rounds into another one. The Boss pulled out her combat knife and sliced another inmate's throat, and roundhouse kicked another inmate in the head forcing the inmate to hit the wall and fall on the ground.

"So I'm assuming this man kept you alive in prison?" The Boss asked as she got to the Control room, searching the monitors and manifests for the man Johnny had asked her to save.

Johnny covered the door, firing every now and then, "yeah, we were cell mates, and he-" Johnny shot another officer with his rifle while reloading. "He let me rest and helped me around while continuing to fight off gang bangers." The Boss finally saw the door they were looking for, Isolation Room 17.

"Got it, two corridors down and another left, we'll be there." The Boss yelled reloading her pistol. Johnny flashed his trademarked smirk and led the way to the Isolation block. After a quick skirmish and a little bit of trouble with a jammed door, they got to his room. Johnny knocked three times on the door, before giving a small series of knocks. The Boss stared at Johnny and then the door.

"What are we waiting fo-" The Boss was interrupted as the door was unlocked and pulled open by Johnny revealing short man sitting on an old cot.

"Hello Johnny, who's your friend?" His voice was like oil, it coiled like a snake. The Boss nearly blew his head of here and now, if it wasn't for Johnny smiling, and walking inside.

"This is The Boss, and I am here to make good on my promise to get you out." Johnny's cocky smile fell, he knew what the man in front of him was, but he'd be damned if he didn't follow through with his promise. Johnny was many things, but liar was not one of them. "You ready to get out?"

The short man stood, he was 5'3 at best, 5 foot at worst. The man was neither thick or slim, hard or soft, and his appearance was average at best. That was what The Boss thought before he came into the light of the door, revealing a kind face that disguised his uglier nature. The Boss entertained the idea of calling him attractive, but laughed it off knowing that this man was very wrong.

The man nodded his head sincerely to The Boss, "It is a pleasure to meet you, my name is Brook, but most know me as The Gourmet, and I thank you for your attempt to rescue me." Brook held out his hand, but The Boss snorted and turned around heading back to their car. The Boss knew about The Gourmet, and couldn't believe that Johnny would even try to help that thing, she spat at the thought of him.

Brook shrugged his shoulder as he looked to Johnny, "did you bring me a knife or a gun or something?" Johnny smiled handing Brook a small Hooker .22. "C'mon Johnny, remember when I took that knife for you?"

Johnny rolled his eyes "it was your knife Brook." Johnny turned and followed his boss.

Brook's eyes narrowed as he followed Johnny, he used Johnny to get out, taking more than his fair share of stab wounds, and beat downs to keep him safe while Johnny was weak. Johnny knew that too, but Brook would've liked to have called The Infamous Johnny Gat his friend. Brook didn't have any friends since they discovered his appetite for- let's say- exotic meat. Brook walked after the pair of gangsters. Brook pulled out the shiv he was palming and sighed, at least he wasn't weaponless.

Brook sat in the back of The Boss's Charger, watching the carnage The Boss wrought on the streets of Stillwater. Brook still couldn't believe that people were disgusted by him, sure he selectively chose his targets and killed them, but at least he didn't kill fifteen people per Sunday drive. Suddenly the Charger stopped. Brook looked over to The Boss who was holding a big hand cannon in front of his face. "Get out."

/

Hands in my new street clothes, I wandered the streets. I fanaticized what I would do if I ever got out, but now that I'm out. I had nothing to live for. I could hunt again, but there was nothing I wanted or needed. Johnny handed me a couple of hundreds, before The Boss kicked me out. I could move to another city and get new papers, but what kind of life could I live. I didn't want a condo life, and I didn't want to be a small time fry cook. Suddenly, the scent of something delicious caught my attention. I followed the scent and sniffed out a fast food restaurant by the name of "Freckle Bitches." I grinned with a sadistic smile, before wiping my face with my hands. The hunger wasn't as strong on the inside, but surrounded by humans made the hunger grow. Something that wasn't human was attracting him now. A burger. Really? I wondered, my palate was decisive, but a burger? It was barbaric. I bought my first burger in five minutes and gulped it down in ten seconds. I grinned, Freckle Bitches was my new home.

/ two weeks later/

"Welcome to Freckle Bitches, hope to serve you Bitches, how may I help you today?" I asked two very awe struck individuals.

"You've got to be shitting me." Johnny said, his glasses nearly falling off his face.

The Boss looked at me with an amused smirk, "so this is what the Gourmet does on his off time?"

I frowned, and leaned forward, "Do not use my nickname here lady, now are you going to order or what?"

Johnny frowned and pulled me over the counter regardless of my protests, my shift manager could do nothing, as The Boss stared them down. "Boss! I'm going on my break." I shouted as they pulled me into The Boss's Charger, slamming the door to emphasize my capture.

With a stern look I eyed The Boss as she looked at me through her rearview mirror. I was thrilled to see her look away first. I then turned to Johnny, "two weeks ago you wanted nothing to do with me. Now you snatch me out of work and food source and expect something from me?" I snorted, "How can I help the Saints on this fine day?"

Johnny looked over to his boss, "should I tell him or-" The Boss gave him a stern look, and Johnny looked to me. "There is a killer on the streets and it fits your MO."

My jaw dropped, "I-I didn't do it, don't look at me!"

The Boss took a sharp left, "we know, I've had recruits keep tabs on you, but you have had an alibi since the attacks started...unfortunately."

I looked at Johnny with a "really?" expression. Johnny shrugged. "We thought you'd be able to track him down like in that movie."

For the second time that day my mind was blown and not in a good way. "Hey you fuckers, this ain't a damn movie, and just because he is a copycat doesn't mean I have any idea on how to catch him."

The Boss looked back at me while running over another person. "That's why we've decided to pair you off with one of my lieutenants, she is waiting for you at the safehouse" I frowned and she caught me, "she doesn't know about your history." I frowned even more.

"Whoever she is, she needs to know, a partner who can't trust me will most likely shoot me in the back." I say looking out the window.

The Boss shrugged. "I can always get another of the crew to lend you a hand if it doesn't work out." The Boss looked over at Johnny before nodding her head. Johnny grinned before rummaging through the glove compartment.

I leaned forward, curious on what Johnny was looking for. Suddenly, Johnny threw a gun in my face causing me to fumble for the weapon. As I finally gripped the gun another object fell in my lap. My eyes opened wide, "is this what I think it is?"

Johnny's smile didn't leave his face, "we got it out of the state courts system, I thought it might sweeten the deal." My hands cradled around the six inches of black carbon stainless steel." Like a child, I caressed the weapon. The Headlines called me The Gourmet because I ate humans. In our society it wasn't… favorable to do so. I am not saying I was innocent of these crimes, I am the monster they portrayed me as, and I've done horrible things to horrible people. However, I did it all with the blade I held in my hands.

The Boss frowned, "I have had the unpleasant fortune of meeting the worst people and doing the worst things, but I have never met anyone as disgusting and as sick as you."

I growled, "And I have had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting you, you sociopathic, bat shit crazy, rage junkie!" I braced myself as The Boss slammed on the brakes and pulled out her gun, pointing it in my face.

The Boss's face contorted into a mask of rage, "you're lucky we need a waste of life like you."

I leaned forward until the barrel of the gun rested on my forehead and I stared into her eyes, they were an emerald sky green, "The Boss of the Saints can do whatever she wants with no repercussion whatsoever, but if you think I'm going to let some college dropout, who got beaten up by her loser ex-boyfriend, and disowned by her family, talk down to me, then you can go fuck yourself."

The Boss nearly pulled the trigger, but hesitated as Johnny leaned over to her "we still need him to find the copycat." The Boss lowered her gun and put the car back in gear. Johnny was quiet the rest of the trip. Whether or not Johnny knew about The Boss's old life, I didn't know, I asked for a coat and Johnny threw his over his shoulder. That prick, he was at least a foot taller than me, this would fit me like a dress.

They finally dropped me off to a Saints safe house that would be my Headquarters. I spat at the run down project housing, and I pulled the jacket tighter as the rain started falling. "Well, time to meet my partner." I muttered. Walking up the stone steps and kicking a dead cat off the front porch, I entered the housing. The sound of a woman's laughter and a television turned up way to high led my way as I searched for my partner. After a few seconds, I made it to the living room and spotted my partner. She wore a loose jacket over her wiry frame, and she wore her hair in a neat brown bun. Her face was homely in the dark lighting of the house, and her smile was infectious, but I wasn't catching it. "Hello Julia." I say from the hallway.

Julia stood and turned on a dime, pulling her "piece", a mac-10, "who are you?"

I shrugged and leaned against the water stained wall. "My name is Brook Kolter, The Gourmet."

Julia nodded. Julia lowered her weapon, "Lieutenant Julia Sims, 3rd Street Saint, investigation division."

I laughed, "Where did they find you?"

Julia frowned, "I was in the army. I took some shrapnel to my hip." Julia lifted the left side of her shirt and jacket revealing an angry jagged scar. "The army discharged me, gave me a two hundred dollar living allowance, and told me to have a good long life at home."

I raised a hand stopping her, an air of condescendence swirled around me, "let me guess, you fell on hard times, but the Saints gave you a second chance."

Julia gave me an ugly smirk, "no, I went home to a loving husband, who was fucking the baby sitter. I killed him, then I killed her, I killed the children, and I even killed the family dog." My haughty attitude fell, a frown marring my face. Julia holstered her gun inside her jacket and walked to the kitchen, opening the old fridge. I rounded the hallway and followed Julia into the kitchen.

As I crossed the threshold to the kitchen I caught the beer she tossed my way with a little difficulty. Julia popped the tab of her beer and took a swig. "How did you join the Saints then?" I asked, pulling the tab of my beer.

Julia shifted her weight on her good leg, "I got rid of the murder weapon, cleaned off my prints from the house, left through the back and got an alibi." Julia took another gulp of her beer, and continued her story. "They never found the murderer, and I got a big payout from my husband's insurance." Julia threw her unfinished beer in the sink with a loud shattering of broken ceramic. "Two points." She muttered as she fished out a pack of smokes. I waited patiently and awkwardly with my untouched beer.

Julia walked out of the kitchen with me following behind. Finding her lighter with a smile, she lit up and turned to me in the middle of the living room. "So I moved to Stillwater, I got a job, I lost that job, I took a loan after my cash ran out, I fell into debt, I turned to prostitution, and then The Boss found me in a crack house sucking my pimps dick with a needle in my arm." Julia took a drag and tilted her head studying my face. "The Boss got me cleaned up, sent me to school, inducted me into the gang, and now I'm one of two members of a new internal branch of the Saints who investigate special interest for The Boss." Julia took a long drag of her cigarette before squashing it on the waterlogged couch. "What's your story Brooks, why do they call you The Gourmet?"

I shrugged off Johnny's wet coat and tossed it on the disgusting couch. My hand went to my sheathed knife on my hip, "I am a renowned chef and serial killer, known for targeting attractive women and handsome men, butchering their corpses in precise portions and eating them."

Julia's face morphed from curious to disgusted, to angry, to curious again. "Do you still partake in such… immoral activities?"

I smirk, "no, ever since I was in and broken out of prison I have not partaken in the eating of human meat." I shifted my stance as I studied Julia's reaction. So far, she seemed to take this very well. "After breaking out, I was employed by Freckled Bitches, and found that my cravings were satisfied by those delicious morsels."

Julia gave me a humorless smile, "I knew those burgers were fishy."

I smiled back, "They do not have human flesh in the patties Julia," Julia raised an eyebrow at that, "the company that provides the patties to Freckle Bitches use a flavoring substitute which imitates that special flavor that my taste buds enjoy so much."

Julia barked out a laugh, her face lit up in joy, as she soaked in the information I provided. "So you only eat Freckle Bitches?" she asked through giggles.

I narrowed my eyes, "no, I'm called the Gourmet for other reasons." I found a chair that wasn't soaked in bong water and sat down. "I only eat Freckle Bitches when I have my cravings, I make high quality meals, and maybe if we get further along in our partnership, I'll cook you something." Julia nodded and walked to a corner table with a couple of files on it. "Is that our case?"

Julia nodded without looking to me. I just sat quietly as she collected her materials, and spread them over the water stained, burn marked coffee table which sat in the middle of the living room. Pulling up a chair next to me and pulling out a laser pointer, she aims her laser on the first picture displaying a mutilated, shaved, teenage girl in what appeared to be purple underwear. "Our victim is Lauren De la Cruise, she was seventeen, a recently inducted member of the Saints, and found dead in her apartment's bath tub with her head shaved." I raised my eyebrow, shaved head? Julia continued without pause, "State Coroner says the cause of death was asphyxiation and puts her time of death from 3 A.M to 4:30 A.M." Julia pointed to the next picture which displayed a door and a couple windows, "The police report states that there were no signs of forced entry, and the neighbors did not hear anything nor did they see anyone enter or leave the apartment. Although they have been claiming that she has been hanging out with a nice man since the beginning of last month."

I nodded, "This killer has to have something defining other than being nice." Julia raised a curious eyebrow. I rolled my eyes, "A man is not just noticed because he is nice. He has to be noteworthy, either hideous or handsome. During my hay day, I built a dialogue with my prey, learning their rituals and habitats. If you followed my case file, I was caught by a middle-aged man who thought I was peculiar, linking me to the crime." I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, but why the shaved head? I never did that."

Julia rolled her eyes, and grunted in annoyance. "I'm getting to that." Julia pulled up a report from the detective. "The cops don't know why the killer started shaving his victims, now can I continue with the briefing?" I gestured her to continue. Julia sighed then continued her briefing, but my attention was focused on the photos of the victims. If the copycat was using my M.O, then the copycat must be familiar with my how I chose my meals. All the victims were considered beautiful by modern standards, but my victims were chosen by smell. What made the killer choose these women? My eyes scanned a particular picture of what was left of Lauren's face. "Hold on," I told Julia. Julia didn't seem to appreciate my interruption. I grabbed the picture of Lauren's face, and traced the cuts.

Julia scooted away from me, her face a mask of disgust, "are you getting off on this?" she asked incredulous at my fascination with, what was to her, a gruesome photo.

I looked at her at the corner of my eye and frowned, "I don't hunt anymore Julia, and no I never took satisfaction when harvesting meat. Well-not too much" Julia sniffed loudly and spat on the ground next to her.

"You look a little too happy with that picture Brook," Julia accused.

I chuckled, "you don't understand what I am seeing Julia," I laid down the photo and pulled out a pen from my pocket. "The Boss and Johnny believed that the Copycat was following my M.O, and I have to admit he followed my steps to the letter." Julia leaned forward as I started to mark the photo. "However, he doesn't use the same blade." Putting down the pen, I pointed at both sides of her face where her cheeks used to be. It wasn't a pretty picture, but it illustrated my point. "I use a six inch combat knife, a well-known fact, and the damning piece of evidence in my trail." I gave her a brief look before continuing. "This kind of wound was done with a knife or blade with a thinner base, and wider blade, rounding off at the tip."

Julia disapprovingly frowned, "you're right, the killer is deviating from your M.O. Do you think it's the same instrument that cut her hair?"

I grinned, "He didn't cut her hair, he shaved her with either the same blade to harvest the meat or a new blade all together." Julia looked closely at her hair line, and realized he was right. However, she looked closer to the picture.

"Why does her scalp look so…" Julia couldn't quite complete her sentence, trying to describe what she was seeing.

"Shiny?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said.

I then pointed at her hollowed cheeks again, "Look at her wounds again. He harvested the meat, after he strangled her, of course my M.O, but there is minimum blood splatter."

"Maybe he waited to-harvest- her" Julia said, her hesitance was noted, but I moved on.

"Yes he did, but there is no pooling that would signify the type of wounds she had inflicted on her. Look at the wounds, the blood vessels show very little damage until he cuts deeper. According to the striation of the leftover meat, and the Knicks on the cheek bones, he had trouble cutting. How many victims were before Lauren?" I asked.

Julia reached over a couple of case files and quickly reviewed the separate cases. "There were three victims before Lauren, all of them had the same mutilations as Lauren, and the DNA analysis on all the samples on the bodies haven't come back yet."

I pulled a file from her hand searching for a face shot. "What are you looking for Brook?" Julia asked.

"Ah ha!" I shouted, pulling out the picture of the first victim, I placed the photos side by side. Pointing to her cheeks, and the blood pools on the first victim's photo. "He isn't eating the meat." I whispered.

"What?" Julia asked, "Why does he copy you, and mutilate them if he doesn't eat them?"

I circled the blood pools around the first victims face, "Victim 1 has blood pools around her face, showing maximum bleeding," I pointed to Lauren's face, "now look at Lauren, the pool is smaller. This isn't about clean up. no, I believe that the killer dislikes blood." I snorted at that piece of insight. "I find it hard to believe that a killer who dislikes blood eats the meat or meat at all."

Julia picked up the photos taking a moment to compare, "the hesitation marks on the first victim is identical to Lauren," she put down the photos and pointed at the identical wounds on both victims cheeks, "the killer should show an improvement on technique or at least experimentation with Lauren being the third victim. It seems that the killer doesn't even care about the-meat." Julia swallowed the lump in her throat, revulsion and disgust threatening to leap out of her.

I grinned, "Exactly," I pointed to the cuts on Lauren's face, "The killer used the same instrument to shave Lauren, and then used it to cut her." I then pointed to Lauren's head, "now, to get a close shave you use shaving cream, or some other type of material."

"You're saying that whatever stopped the bleeding is the same foreign material used to shave Lauren and the other victims?" Julia asked, "But what was it? What did he use?"

I grinned and patted Julia's shoulder causing her to immediately distance herself from me. Her eyes widened and I could smell her fear. "Relax Julia, I'm not going to hurt you." I say as my face adopted a look of concern. Julia unconsciously let go of her mac-10 still hidden in her jacket.

Julia took a moment to collect herself and sat down again, "s-sorry about that, I'm still trying to assimilate." I nodded.

"Well, back to what I was saying," I looked over and checked to see if she was alright. She nodded, "the killer is using animal fat to shave his victims," I grinned, this was exciting, "my dear, we are looking at the most ancient of techniques… Enfleurage!"

El Mano: Thank you for taking the time to read the story, I will hopefully update soon. peace out.