TITLE: In the Dark With Dexter
RATING: R
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing (dammit)
SPOILERS: none
SUMMARY: Night is when I go hunting for the worst Miami has to offer.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so this is my first ever Dexter fanfic. Much thanks to Connie for lending a hand!

I understand why people are scared of the dark. Not the fear exactly, because I am never afraid, but the reasoning behind the fear. I see them huddle close to their friends, or wrap their arms around themselves when they walk down a dark street alone. To me the dark isn't scary, it's the perfect cover for my dark deeds.

Bad things happen in the dark.

I could happen.

Maybe that's why I'm not scared. Why would I be afraid of me?

Night is when I go hunting for the worst Miami has to offer. Murderous drug dealers, child pornographers, rapists and black widows: All have made appearances on my slide collection. One drop of blood, safely tucked away inside my air conditioning window unit is all I keep. It helps me to remember my time with them. Remember the thrill of the kill.

I don't care about them personally. When I hear about their disappearances on the news or at the police station where I work, it always surprises me to learn that they had lives. Sometimes I see the families of these killers crying and begging for them to be found, but I am not upset. Nothing much upsets me.

I wonder if those people would be sad if they knew what monsters their family members were. Would they still cry over their missing molesters or sadists? Would anyone cry for me?

I may be a different kind of monster, but I am still a killer. I take out the garbage. If it hadn't been for my foster father, Harry, I might have ended up just like the people that I hunt. Maybe someone else would have hunted me and put a drop of my blood on a glass slide.

Or maybe my sister Deborah, a detective would have tracked me down. I think she still might someday. Sometimes I think she knows what I am deep inside, but pretends not to notice. It's her that I have to work the hardest to keep myself hidden from. Not because she's smarter, but because she's known me the longest and has seen glimpses of the real me. When I was young, I wasn't good at hiding myself like I am now, and the memories that Deb has locked inside her head may come out some day.

Harry tried to keep my secret from her, but there were still things that she must have seen or heard about. Harry spent more time with me even though he was her real father because he was teaching me the code. Only kill those who deserve to be killed, and so far, that's what I've done.

All I think about when I'm hunting them is upholding the Code of Harry. I watch them until I'm sure that they deserve their deaths, and then I take them. They belong to me.

The garbage must be taken out so that people can sleep safely in their beds and not be so afraid of the dark. I can't kill every killer.

But I'm working on it.