Mac's POV
It had been an extremely long day. One of those days that made you think more about the life you live and the time you still have to live that life. One second…one second is all it takes for that life to end. One second is the time it takes to blink or cough or snap your fingers, but it also is the amount of time it takes to die. Mac had learned that from his time as a Marine and almost found out first-hand today. If that gun hadn't jammed he would be dead and his team would be solving his murder instead of some other nameless citizen. He was lucky he thought to himself as he stepped out of the elevator and toward the busy streets of New York…too lucky.
Don's POV
He sat slouched at his desk in the old precinct. His day had been good…he had helped solve and old case and reunite a mother with her child. Actually in his book that would be considered a great day. His job was hard and sure it took its toll but today was one of the day's he felt proud and happy to be a New York City Police Officer. He may not make the front page of the New York Times or drive a Mustang or Corvette but his job still made him happy…happy in a way money could never do. He was pulled abruptly out his thoughts as his phone rang "Flack," he said swiftly picking it up, ready to start up again. The voice that answered him was deep and unfamiliar.
"This is death calling and I'm growing restless," it said.
"Who is this…what are you talking about?" Don said, now sitting up in his chair.
As the stranger talks the scene shows Mac walking further away from the elevator and towards the street in slow motion and then flicks back to Flack sitting in the precinct.
"Privolli…if this is another one of your pranks so help me god…" Flack said, now a little agitated.
"Your job is to find killers… am I right?" the voice said, ignoring Flack's questions. Flack realizes that this is not a prank at all and its real.
"Yes why? Are you in some sort of trouble? Flack asked now standing.
"No, but I know someone who is," the voice said and all you can see of the caller is his mouth talking into the phone. Then the scene flicks back to Mac walking.
"You see I met this man and I could tell he was troubled…very troubled…. so today I think I'm going to save him," the voice said and the scene flicks back to Flack sitting in his chair.
"Sir? Could you please explain more…I'm not sure where you're going with this," Flack said.
"He needs my help…I have to do this….I…have to kill him," the voice said and the scene flashes back to Mac walking again.
"Who? No you don't want to kill anyone…just listen ok everything will be fine just tell me your name….I can help you," Flack said.
"No…I just had to tell someone…you have to stop me…I'm going to kill him," the voice said now sounding frantic.
"Who? Who are you going to kill?" Flack yelled into the phone.
"His name is Mac Taylor…Detective Mac Taylor…you have to save him….stop me…find me," the voice said and then hung up. Flack sprinted from his desk and dialed Mac's number as he raced towards the elevators.
"C'mon Mac pick up….," Flack said as he pressed the lobby button.
Deaths POV
He laughs as he hangs up the phone, knowing that Detective Flack will try to save Taylor, but he won't. He stops laughing as he raises the sniper rifle to aim.
Mac's POV
The streets are surprisingly empty. A few cops are leaving and a few are coming to do their jobs. He smiles and nods at a few familiar faces as he steps down the final steps in front of the precinct that lead to the street. As his feet touch the sidewalk he hears a loud crack and feels like an invisible arm is pushing his left shoulder back…dragging him towards the ground. He looks to his left and sees blood blossoming on his jacket….his blood. His knees buckle and he feels himself crumble the ground. Screams fill the air and the familiar faces he saw moments before are crowded over him…blocking out the sky above. Their mouths move but nothing comes out…he wants to answer them but he can't speak. His vision starts to become blurry as he sees Jo hovering among the other faces.
"Stay with me…don't close your eyes…do you hear me Mac," Jo yells at him in a determined voice. Was this luck? Had he survived being killed a few nights earlier to die lying in the cold, hard streets that he had worked most of his life to protect? Was this what he had been destined for? Was this the end for him? Or was it the beginning?
Deaths POV
He lowers the rifle slowly, watching the havoc on the street below. He takes the rifle apart and stuffs it into his duffel bag, careful to leave nothing behind. He climbs onto the fire escape and climbs down…not too slow…not too fast. He was good at his job and now he knew no one would catch him, he had just now made sure of that. He was practically a ghost…a creature of the night….he was the Phantom Killer.