As soon as I arrived in town, I knew something was wrong. Though I was telepathic; the deep feeling of unease had nothing to do with it. A strange kind of hush had befallen my small town. It was as if all of Bon Temps had come to grinding halt. Whatever was going on had to be bad. When I spotted the crowd gathered in front of the police station, I got out of the car to see what was up.

Sheriff Dearborn stated to the crowd, "…We are asking that everyone keep an eye out for anyone or anything suspicious,"

"Say what you mean!"

That irate comment came from Maxine Fortenberry of course. She was the town's unofficial gossip reporter. I wasn't calling her names. That was how she'd always thought of herself.

"Is it some kind of serial killer? Women aren't safe?" Maxine insisted.

Wait, a minute!

Questions and comments began flying at the sheriff faster than he knew what to do with. None of it made any sense to me. I did my best to sort through the chaos. From what I gathered, a woman had been raped and murdered. Here… A serial killer, here in Bon Temps? That wasn't even remotely possible. We had serial drunks, serial idiots but that was about it.

"People, calm down. We don't know anything yet." The sheriff said.

Dearborn looked gruff and sure but he was grinding his teeth, something I knew was a sign of deceit. I dipped into his mind hoping that the victim was no one I knew.

"There is no evidence…"

I didn't hear the rest. Grisly images flooded into my mind and my stomach wretched. I lost my breakfast. In between heaves I tried to get air in and breathe out while stumbling away so I didn't draw attention. Also I was fairly sure the sheriff would appreciate me not defiling the front steps of the station house.

My strong reaction to the images got me the last thing I wanted, attention. All eyes were on me. Maxine's son Hoyt came over and wrapped his arms around me. It was a sweet gesture but touch only made me cringe. It made the thoughts of others louder but I didn't care. I just didn't trust my legs at the moment. Plus Hoyt's thoughts might be able to wash away the ones in my head, the ones filled with blood and gore that I'd garnered from the sheriff.

"You okay Sook?" He asked handing me a handkerchief.

Kenya one of the deputies had a bottle of water under my nose.

I accepted both gratefully. I rinsed out my mouth and then took my time drinking the rest. I wanted to make my exit. There would be no way to do so without eyes on me. When I risked a glance above Hoyts shoulder, the expressions I saw ranged from concern and speculation to disapproval and exasperation. At this point, I didn't have to be in their heads to know what they were all thinking.

Maxine was no doubt thinking I was knocked up and would be needling me for confirmation as soon as she was done publicly interrogating the sheriff. Andy Bellefleur the other deputy was probably thinking the murder was my fault somehow because he was convinced I was cursed. Sheriff Dearborn would be thinking he just wanted this to be over so he could get a drink. For that I couldn't blame him. Everyone else would be thinking, 'Poor crazy Sookie Stackhouse'.

I smiled at Hoyt so that he would release me. Then I got up on semi steady legs, plastered a smile on my face, all but back to my car. Then I got my ass the hell out of there. I had no words to describe my shock at such a thing happening in my home town. Sure there was crime in Bon Temps? Ours was of the drunken and disorderly or domestic variety. There have also been murders, but again they were domestic, like ten years ago when my Algebra teacher killed his wife and her boyfriend. Even in cases where violence wasn't of an intimate nature, it was never a mystery. That was exactly what this was. A horrifying mystery and the killer was still out there.

Maudette Pickens was the victim's name. The news of her murder spread like a wildfire burning through the quiet of my town. I arrived at work and the murder was the subject of a heated debate. One of the Preachers daughters, Ashley, said that Maudette had been living in sin. I guess some would call it that because she was known for taking home any man that would have her. From what my Gran taught me, all of God's children are sinners. So in my book it didn't matter what or who Maudette did, she didn't deserve what happened to her. No one deserved to die like that.

"So you're saying she got what she deserved?" Dawn fired back at Ashley. "That it?"

It didn't take a telepath to see that Dawn was thinking of dumping her pitcher of iced tea on Ashley. She had gone from holding it like a cup to a weapon. Dawn would do it too and it wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm sorry she's dead and I pray for her soul but she brought whoever murdered her into her home." Ashley said in her better than thou voice. "Bringing home strange men from here, there and everywhere, I mean the sheriff probably doesn't even know where to start."

Sam broke it up before Dawn did something violent. I tried to go on about my shift, serving lunch orders and making small talk but it was impossible. People were either talking about it or were talking about anything else to avoid it. As hard as I tried the images just kept cropping up into the forefront of my mind.

Thoughts and events that I'd garnered from the sheriff were now my memories and they would haunt me. Maudette had been tied spread eagle to her bed and gagged. Blood vessels in her eyes had burst from her screaming and they had been wide open, forever frozen in horror. That was the only damage done to her face.

From her neck down, there were so many burns, cuts and slashes the Medical examiner was yet able to get a final number. There were so many cuts and bruises that he'd stated that it would be impossible to say what had actually killed her. He had stopped counting at seventy-two. The most chilling detail was the most peculiar.

Gruesome as the murder had been, there had been no blood at the scene, or any left in poor Maudette for that matter. More sickening, the authorities still hadn't accounted for it. Bile rose up my throat and I ran into the backroom not sure if I would be sick again. The air in the backroom was often stuffy but I would gladly suffer through it if it would help me purge the memories. It didn't.

"Hey," Sam said from behind me.

Sam Merlotte was my boss and for most my adult life, he was a good friend. He placed his hand on my shoulder and I didn't have to brace myself for an onslaught. That was one of the things I loved about Sam. I didn't hear every single thing that ran through his mind and I'd had a crush on him since like forever.

Aside from immediate family, Sam was the only person I'd trusted enough to reveal what I was. Lately he had been showing interest in me, which made me think he wanted to be more than friends. He was having an internal struggle about our age difference (only five years) and he was going to ask me out soon, or so I'd hoped. That had been the biggest thing on my list of troubles, not this, not death.

"I'll be right out." I said.

"Don't worry about it. I just came to make sure you're okay."

I shook my head. I couldn't even bring myself to describe to him what I'd seen in the sheriff's mind.

"I saw how the sheriff found her. It just seems so unreal. I mean we weren't friends but…"

Even if I didn't have the details, the difference between an accidental death and murder was jarring.

He squeezed my shoulder gently. "Look I was thinking…"

"Yes?"

"You should see about staying with Jason." He said.

Balloon; meet needle. Then I thought about his words. It sparked fear anew.

"Wait, you think it isn't an isolated incident?"

He ran his hand through his hair, sending the sandy red strands sticking on end in every direction. I was overcome with the urge to brush, clip and gel it into place, or at the very least run my fingers through it.

"I don't know, either way you shouldn't be all alone out there right now."

I smiled, feeling touched by his concern but it was completely unnecessary.

"I'll be fine."

I returned to work and when Jessica said she couldn't come in, I took her shift. It wasn't like I didn't need the money. I also didn't want to be home alone with my own thoughts. Often I faced the moral dilemma of using my telepathy for good or evil. With this situation there was no question and I hated it. The possibility that Bon Temps was home to a sadistic serial rapist and murderer was too repugnant for words.

As I worked I sifted through the minds of patrons. By the time Terry and Sam were escorting the waitress to their cars at the end of the night, I'd found nothing. Although what would I have done if I had found the killer was beyond me. Would I risk openly admitting that I was telepathic so that I could help put him behind bars? I knew the answer but hoped like hell it wouldn't come to that.

Maxine Fortenberry was at my door bright and early the next day with a pie in hand. After a night of fitful sleep that was wrought with nightmares, her company was the last thing I wanted but I was raised better than to just ignore a guest at my door. Plus her pies were award winning good. The way I figured, if I was going to be interrogated, I may as well get pie out of it. Without awaiting an invitation she moved to enter once the door was open.

"Good Morning, Mrs. Fortenberry." I greeted.

"Mornin' Sook," she said for her hello. "I came to see about you. A young lady like yourself shouldn't be living out here all your own."

"Lest you become a knocked up harlot."

She didn't say it and I didn't read it from her mind but it was there in every syllable of every word she'd spoken. I bit back a sigh. So it was going to be one of those mornings. Fortunately, for me I've known her long enough to know how to distract her.

"I know what you mean. I still can't believe it." I stated with an over exaggerated shudder.

For good measure, I crossed my body to show that I very truly felt as helpless as she thought I was. I've learned not to argue with stupid people. Sometimes it was best to just jump into the water and pretend to drink the Kool-Aid with them. When dealing with Maxine, that was almost always the way to go.

It didn't take long for me to steer the conversation from me to Maudette's murder. I told her what I'd heard from the bar. It began as a way to distract her but it occurred to me that she might know something or at least be able to debunk rumors.

"I don't think we should be worried." I concluded. "I think some sicko she met in a bar in Shreveport did it."

Maxine gave me a look as if I was a poor idiot. Then she looked around her as if we weren't the only people in my house, a house that was in the middle of nowhere mind you.

"You didn't hear it from me, but Dearborn's wife told me he was out in Shreveport all night."

"They have a suspect?" I asked genuinely hopeful.

She shook her head. After pausing for what I assumed was dramatic effect she said, "They got three dead girls, three!"

The number ran through my head and I was equal parts terrified and shocked. Three dead women in a city the size of Shreveport would have been reported on the news and I'd heard nothing about it. Surely she was fibbing.

"They're checking with other parishes and nearby cities today, for a pattern."

Her voice had dropped to a whisper. It didn't shame me one bit that I hung on every word.

"Do they?" I asked.

"Too soon to tell but depending on what they find, they'll call in the FBI!"

"Get out!" I gasped.

I was aghast but she seemed excited and particularly proud of herself. I knew I was back on Maxine's radar again but the phone rang. She was close enough and was kind and nosey enough to answer it for me. Thankfully it was only Hoyt, her son. She had borrowed his truck to come mettle in my business and now she had to return it. As she drove away, I knew my interrogation had been postponed not cancelled.

Seeing that I was awake I tried to make good use of my time. I did some light cleaning. Even though the skies were threatening rain, I washed linens and hung them on the line out back. In the heat of early spring in Louisiana, they would dry quickly enough. When that didn't tire me out, I moved on to trying to tend to my grandmother's rose bush.

When Gran was alive the blood red roses had been a thing of beauty. They had brought her great pride and happiness. Since she'd been gone, I'd literally turned the once vibrant flowers into limp vegetables. Still, I tried. Today it wasn't so I could feel closer to her. It was to give my hands a familiar task that would relax my mind.

I just needed to tire myself enough to take a nap; otherwise I would be dead on my feet during my shift tonight. It didn't work. My mind was still on the gruesome murder… no… murders. Maudette wasn't the only victim. Three more women had been brutally murdered a car ride away from where I lived. I couldn't unhear, unsee, or unlearn any of the gory details and now it was multiplied by four.

If, and it was a very big 'If', I wanted to believe in what Maxine had told me, then there really was a sadistic serial rapist and murderer in the area. Best case scenario, the FBI would get involved and this psycho would be caught before he killed again. That would be great but knowing Maxine that little detail might have been added just to wow me. I sighed feeling annoyed with myself. I should have dipped into Maxine's mind. After what I saw yesterday, being in my head was proving to be nearly too much.

At some point between thinking of what to have for lunch and actually preparing anything, I fell asleep. Thankfully this was a deep and dreamless sleep. When I awoke Tina, my mostly outdoors cat had come in to hide from the rain. I rubbed my eyes trying to get my baring but the clap of thunder sent me running out to the back yard.

I was unclipping and rolling the sheets in the baskets as fast as I could, not bothering to fold. I was on the last item, a pillow case when I saw a flash of light and then saw a tree fall not too far from me. I screamed and leapt back dragging my load with me. Lightning may never strike in the same place twice but that had been too close for comfort. I'd taken two steps when it dawned on my foggy mind that the lightning wasn't followed by thunder.

I looked over my shoulder but what I saw confused me entirely. Blurs of movement were dancing just behind the shroud of trees that bordered the woods beside my house. The wind raged in places like a tornado. It snapped branches, whipped up leaves and debris and took down trees in some places. There was a vicious shattering noise as the two gusts clashed and splintered a boulder. Then the wind stopped whirling and I saw a figure.

It was a tall man with a sword in hand and a dead body at his feet. I knew the body was dead because it was headless. Until right then I would have chalked this up as a freak thing. Hell, it could have been a signal of my descent into pure insanity. This, what I thought I was seeing couldn't be real. I wanted to scream, and run but he was looking right at me.

Instinct took over and like the prey I froze, hoping that the predator would lose interest. I couldn't make my feet move. I couldn't even make myself drop the stupid laundry basket. In fact I was gripping it tighter as if it was as shield that would protect me. I was still holding onto that delusion when he took a step forward. That snapped me out of my suspended state. I shucked my burden and ran.

Before I reached the steps I hit a wall that came quite literally out of nowhere. I would have gone tumbling backwards but the wall wasn't a wall. It was another man. He caught me and I braced for the onslaught of thoughts but they didn't come. His hands were gloved and that couldn't be good. Between blind panic and the water in my eyes, all I could see was the black and red of his apparel. I screamed then, fighting hard to get away. I kicked, and scratched, and screamed some more.

I did everything I could to break free but the hold he had on me was like steel. His hold didn't budge. It remained steady as I was undoubtedly dragged off to my slow and horrible death. It was strange really to know that I was going to die. It didn't feel like I thought it would. My life didn't flash before my eyes. There was no time for that. I was still fighting and flailing to break free but the results of my continued struggles were the same, I wasn't going anywhere that he didn't want me to go.

The assailant placed one hand firmly at back of my neck. The other was gripping my chin forcing my gaze upwards. The rain no longer fell on my face. When I opened my eyes, I was staring into a set of forest green eyes. His eyes are pitiless as they bored into mine. That was all I could see, the rest of his face is covered in some kind of ski mask and some kind of visor.

"Be still."

It wasn't a suggestion. It was like he was giving me command that he was sure that I would be helpless against. For the life of me, I had no idea why he would think I would cooperate as he tried to kill me.

"Let go of me!"

I continued to fight. Confusion, it knitted his brow and his eyes narrowed with it. It gave me the opening I needed. I kicked him between the legs with all the force I could muster. The result was instantaneous. He dropped me.

Until I hit the ground, I didn't know I'd been that high up. The pain was jolting but adrenaline made it fleeting. I scrambled to my feet, knowing that this could be my only chance. I got all of two steps before I was forced to face what I'd been running from. What my frantic fighting had prevented me from seeing.

I'd thought…I didn't know what I thought I had haplessly stumbled upon at first but it wasn't…this. There were corpses everywhere. People around me were dead or in varying stages of dying, some were in pieces. Directly ahead, someone or something had its mouth wide opened in what I assumed was a scream. I didn't hear it and somehow that made it that much more terrifying.

That person didn't have long to suffer. A sword detached its head from the rest of him. It rolled away like a bouncy dodge ball with eyes wide open. The eyelids blinked once; twice and then nothing. Like Maudette, the dead lifeless eyes stared up at me until a wall of black and red monsters obscured my view. The unimaginable horror, the pure terror, and the confusion to my senses finally become too much. My vision flickered and darkness pulled me under.