Title: Invalidus
Authors: Cabouse18 & Rosary4renee AI
Spoilers: General knowledge of the show.
Rating: MA (just to be safe)
Content Warning: Language, Adult Content,
Summary: Alex's past and present collide, thanks to a serial killer.
Disclaimer: We don't own…much to our dismay.
Chapter 1
Alex Eames thanked the detective and walked towards her partner. Bobby Goren was leaning over the victim, looking for the ever present clues left behind by the perpetrator of the crime.
"The detective said that he wasn't currently working on something that would have brought him out here tonight. Although, they had been working on a case a few days ago that took them nearby," said Alex.
"The perp took two shots, close range. They were through and throughs. And then, he actually took the time to dig the shells out of the wall where they went in. Of course, there are no casings either. This guy is thorough," Bobby said with a hint of annoyed deference. "Detective McKinley's badge is missing too."
"Just like the last one…" Alex mused quietly. "A serial, you think?"
"I don't know yet," Bobby wondered.
"There isn't much else we can do here tonight. Let's start fresh in the morning. Come on, I'll drive you home."
The two partners walked slowly back to their SUV, silently playing with the clues that they had and what they were missing. Two cops killed in a week. It was going to be a long night.
The Man watched the two cops look over the crime scene. It was the same ones who were at the previous killing, and he found them fascinating. She was beautiful and petite and he thought she might have a great smile if she ever had a reason to share it. Her partner was a giant, quiet and restless at the same time. He wondered about them. He always liked a challenge and so far, the cops he had been around were found lacking. Maybe these two would change things.
As the scene in front of him started to dwindle, the Man left his perch and headed back to his lair. He smiled as he entered the candlelit room. It was soft and peaceful here. Almost romantic, or even spiritual feeling. On one wall were his trophies and photographs, lit by indirect lighting and candles. He prided himself on being quite the still life photographer. Of course, since his pictures were of the dead, they really were still life. He grinned in amusement at his little joke. He placed the latest picture of the dead cop along with his badge on the wall, hanging there next to all the others. His killing wall. His wall of death. The shields of death. He loved his wall.
TBC……
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