AN: I have absolutely no idea where this came from, I really don't. I wrote this on a whim. There are spoilers for 'Probable Cause' in here. Anyway, constructive criticism is welcome.
Disclaimer: I don't own Castle.
The man gently stroked the girl's cheeks with his gloved hands, before picking up a shovel and throwing dirt on top of her cold body, creating a shallow grave. He knew the authorities would find her by morning. By then, he would be long gone, not even a blip on their radar. After cleaning himself up, he returned to the cheap, seedy motel room he had been staying in for the past month. He laid down on the stained mattress, which no doubt had cockroaches crawling under it. Opening up the drawer of the table next to the bed, he pulled out a picture. It was of a couple who were walking in Central Park, hands intertwined. He chuckled as he stared at the couple, who seemed to be in a deliriously blissful state. They thought that they had destroyed him, killed him. Unfortunately, they were dead wrong. He smirked as he remembered that night from months before.
The plan had been easy, for him at least. His plan was to frame the author and watch as his world slowly crumbled around him and the female detective. Although simple, his plot of revenge required the utmost attention to every detail that was involved. Each action had to be precise, so he did not get caught. The bonus of being in on the couple's secret relationship made him downright giddy. Even though he preferred blondes, he had to admit that the female detective was quite beautiful. He recalled the moans and cries of passion he had heard as he planted the evidence, the couple in the other room blissfully unaware of his presence. He could not help but peer in on the couple. He saw the detective with her back arched, moaning the author's name as the author made love to her. The criminal had to admit, that was probably the most erotic thing he had ever seen. He had then quietly slipped out of the loft, making sure no one had seen him. He grinned maliciously all the way to the hotel he was staying in, knowing that their world would soon come crashing down.
Once he killed the girl, he put on an officer's uniform, and watched his plan unfold. Usually he was good at reading people, but some things had surprised him as he watched the detectives frantically try to solve the case. He expected Detective Beckett to be objective throughout the whole case. He had figured she would treat the author like any other suspect, acting indifferently as she investigated. However, he soon realized that this was not so. He watched from a safe distance as she adamantly insisted that the fingerprints were an accident due to the author's carelessness. When that could not be proven, he watched as she desperately said that Castle would not kill anyone. He grew excited as she questioned the author's loyalty to their relationship, thinking the author was cheating. He became frustrated though, when the idea was erased from her mind. Finally, he saw the conflicting emotions on her face as she ordered a warrant to search the loft. Her feelings for her lover had overridden her objectivity of the case.
When Castle had been brought into the holding cell, the perfect opportunity for the big reveal had presented itself. He had to hold back as laugh as the author cried for help, not knowing that the cameras had been disabled. Always one to take pride in his work, the murderer gloated to the man trapped in the cell, explaining his carefully thought-out plan. He smirked as the author stared helplessly at him. He was amused as Castle insisted that the detective would believe him, and that he would be caught. The Triple Killer was sure that Detective Beckett would believe her lover, but that it would be too late.
The following morning, he waited patiently for the author to be escorted out of the precinct, where he planned to kill him. However, he found an unwelcome surprise. The author had given him the slip, and disappeared. Much to Tyson's misfortune, he could not find the author for a few hours. Knowing that the detective would probably find him though, the killer set another plan into action. He figured that they would find the place he had been staying in, so he let them think it was over, for a bit at least. Waiting in his car, he watched them leave the building, heading into Beckett's car. He then slowly followed after them, making sure to keep a safe distance away. Once he saw them at the bridge, he sped up his car, and slammed into theirs. The detective had put up a good fight, but he had been better. He fed on the fear that emanated from her as he dragged her over to the car, the taste of near revenge sweet on his lips.
Expecting the author to be in the car, he was disappointed when he found the seat empty. When Castle spoke, Tyson whirled around to see a gun being pointed at him. Remembering that Castle was not the best shooter, Tyson pulled Beckett closer to him. He reveled in the thought of the author killing his lover, which would have been better than any plan of revenge that Tyson had imagined. He pictured the anguish that would grace the author's features as the detective collapsed and the author trying to revive her. However, Tyson had misjudged and Castle did shoot him. Nevertheless, always being one step ahead, Tyson had worn a vest. Putting on his best acting skills, Tyson had pretended to stumble and fall over the ledge of the bridge. The water felt like concrete as he hit it. He then swam off, leaving the couple alone on the bridge.
He left the state that night, and changed his appearance. He began killing again, moving from area to area when he was done. However, the author and the female detective were always in the back of his mind. They had served his purposes, for the time being. He did plan on returning someday, though. When that time came, he would destroy them both, permanently. For the time being, he would let them live in their bubble of happiness. He would occasionally keep track of them, making sure they thought he was dead. Just when everything settled down, and they were at the peak of their happiness, he would swoop down and crush them.
Putting the picture away, he rolled over onto his side to sleep, and closed his eyes. Jerry Tyson then smiled, thinking about how he would leave the couple alone, for now.
AN: So, this was my attempt at writing a killer's point of view. As always, constructive criticism is welcome.