Dear Sir Alfred Jones,

Most people expect the good guy to win in everything they do. But real life doesn't seem to expect that. People die in real life. They die in the worst ways you can ever think of. In my life I've seen more hangings, brutal lynchings, decapitation, and slow painful deaths in these last few years of my work.

But for some reason one specific crime seemed to catch my attention.

This murder wasn't just killing people, but he (we assume it was a he, seeing the evidence they were leaving) was killing them in vile ways. Ways you should even keep from adult ears.

But if you are so curious to know, one of the crimes was the murder of a young girl. When we found her, you could barley tell she was a girl. She was beaten, cut into, and her throat was split pretty much in half. There was a trail of blood, handprints, and scratched on a rock were the words, "Catch me if you can, Sweetheart." We assumed it was in the killers blood, seeing the girl's was oddly a lighter shade.

There hasn't been much evidence other than the fact that there have been twelve murders overall. We all know they were him, because on every single one there was the words, somewhere, "Catch me if you can, Sweetheart." The only thing that changed was the name. A few times it had been "Sweetcheeks," "Pretty Boy," "Honeybee," and "Loverboy."

He knows we are on his trail, but not hot at all.

He teases us.

I once found several dead roses scattered across the dead body of a young boy (around 8 or 9) and his horse, both beaten bloody.

That boy had been missing for three weeks before we found him-his mother was devastated to find him forever gone.

That was another thing about these crimes.

Every one of these murders had been held on missing people.

We think he may be working with someone else.

The person he could be working for does the kidnapping and controlling. Then, he hands them over to be brutally killed.

We also believe that this killer knows who we are. Otherwise he probably wouldn't be writing us these little notes in neat capital letters.

We have yet to find any other evidence. We can only wait for the next killing. Until then we can only ponder who this guy is. He's been careful not to leave any fingerprints, footprints, or anything to give himself away besides what I've mentioned.

Until we can get further evidence, this is all I can tell you, sir.

I hope one day you'll find interested enough in this case to join us in finding and killing the murderer.

Sincerely,

Sheriff Adam Hoss.

I threw the letter down in frustration.

This was not what I bargained for.

I never asked for these stupid sheriffs to send letters to me expecting me to drop everything I was doing and go straight to a crime.

I was not some prize to give away.

Nor was I a free working man.

All these sheriffs wanted me to do the same damn thing every god damned day. Without pay. It was sickening.

But for some reason I kept looking back to this letter, over and over again.

I kept reading a certain part.

"There hasn't been much evidence other than the fact that there have been twelve murders overall. We all know they were him, because on every single one there was the words, somewhere, "Catch me if you can, Sweetheart." The only thing that changed was the name. A few times it had been "Sweetcheeks," "Pretty Boy," "Honeybee," and "Loverboy."

He knows we are on his trail, but not hot at all.

He teases us.

I once found several dead roses scattered across the dead body of a young boy (around 8 or 9) and his horse, both beaten bloody."

I couldn't stop reading it.

He teased them.

I also kept reading over the explained murder.

This killer was brutal and this did catch my attention.

Anyone with the will to do this and tease their followers deserved a slow death like what they had done to their victims.

At least that was my look on it.

But again with the names.

"Sweetcheeks." "Pretty Boy." "Honeybee." "Loverboy."

Every time I read that last name, I flinched.

This could very well be someone I knew.

That was what perked my interest the most.

I knew someone who constantly called people Loverboy.

And for some reason I felt like he was trying to say these messages to one person in particular, seeing he used "Pretty Boy" Instead of the plural, "Boys."

I sat there looking one last time over the letter before a began to write:

Dear Sheriff Adam Hoss,

You have perked my curiosity.

Meet me at your General Store tomorrow at 10.

You'll know who I am.

Consider yourself lucky,

Alfred.

Authors note: I really don't like putting these here. This is the only one.

The original in my text document looks so much better. Just saying. If you want the original version to read (With all the fonts, italics, and other stuff like that) please let me know and I'll email you to original document.

Chapter one.
I'm not giving away much info, seeing this is supposed to be book like, and books don't have much author notes.
A lot of this stuff I will be researching and playing Red Dead to figure out, so please, ignore any crap.
I have no editor yet. If you want to help, please let me know. I would really like it if you did. Thanks.