This is a story I am currently editing and writing, am the only one as of right now proofreading my own stuff. I need as much feedback as I can before adding the rest of this story: from spelling mistakes, character development, and etc. Please send me a message or comment how bad or good the story is so far.

Chapter 1

Had the college student known better to roam the campus at a time like this, no? Florida was witnessing its darkest period throughout its entire history. Random killings were occurring – most of the on-duty police officers did their usual, but couldn't come to a conclusion on rather this should be a state of emergency – the problem was now dealt with FBI. This was naturally a problem, but every branch wanted to see and feel the same thing, the end of all of this. This college student would be the next statement of why Miami was black.

Izzy Jones, a college student attending Florida State University – beautiful in the most possible way, and tried her best to stay the fashion queen around the school. She was use to this kind of stuff, the darkness, being alone, it was something she hadn't seen or done before – she quite fed up with media alerting those to watch their backs, missing teenagers and adults were all found dead in the last few weeks, and it was sicken enough that the tragic accident was happening here, in sweet Miami – that is why Izzy kept her mind on other things. Her Galaxy Note vibrates in her pocket, she reaches for it and without looking at the ID, she press the green button and says, "Hey bitch!"

"Did you finish our project?" asked the girl on the other side of the phone.

"Forget the project, my plan failed," Izzy replied to her friend's question.

"The man is married, why do you insist on hooking up with him!" the girl shouted.

"I never said I wanted to sleep with him, I just think he's cute for a professor."

She overheard a snapping sound behind her. It gave her a cold chill to have someone shadowing her, it was creepy enough that the campus was entirely dark, but this feeling she had, it was unreal of her to have. She paused on her walking, listening in to see if she wasn't going crazy. Her friend's voice muffled in the background, her phone at waist length. Izzy order her friend to shut it for moment. She brought her ear in a little closer, before she knew, the rough feeling of used garden glove was wrapped around her mouth. She struggle and scream, like most victims in a situation would do. Izzy phone fell to the ground, her friend, listening as her Izzy's life was coming to an end. She felt helpless. She dread the moment of hearing her friend gasp for her last breath.

Izzy's friend felt it, she felt Izzy come to cold slam near her phone. All she could from that point was scream for help. Izzy was brought back to feet – the dagger, in which she felt entering her back was cold sharp pain. It was at that point. She was dead.

This was her fourth murder case in the entire month of June. FBI Agent Kristina Wade stood over Izzy's dead body in disbelief, in shame actually, that the person, or, whomever was behind wasn't behind bars. She lifted herself to stance, hands placed on both hips. She thank God for not being in the position as a Homicide Detective. She could barely the sight of blood, let alone, a dead body every day. She enjoyed the action pack moments, but enjoyed the confront of her butt, placed firmly down behind her desk. She heard her name, from a great distance, it was a male.

"Hey Kristina, look at this!"

She turned to him. He was distracted by her beauty. How could anyone factor out, that she was Canadian-American, beautiful beyond the standard eyes of a model. She has an oval-shaped face, short brown hair, brown eyes, and fair skin. She was every pre-teen boy's dream – to have a life-size poster of her on their wall.

Kristina stood next to her teammate, Kevin Ryan. He was slim-base, the brains of the group that would express himself with odd expression. He begins his statement by saying, "Last night was blur. Cams around the campus caught nothing, they were hacked from what the tech-geek explained to me. Homicide sweeping the area for statements, but I doubt any luck would come out of that."

Something wasn't right, Kristina could feel that fishy feeling that someone in the campus had to be pull the strings last night. It was too fishy her to understand.

"This doesn't make senses, none of this does. The campus is big, but everything is close by, I mean," she points to a nearby dorm window. "That window was left open all night and you trying to tell me nobody heard that."

Kevin fixed that image for her and said, "They were high last night."

She shoot him a look. She slapped her hand onto her forehead, this all too stressful. She looked into Kevin's eyes for answer – she been doing this for years and he was used to it. Nothing came out of it. "I can't report another failed murder to the boss.

"Calm down, there is nothing to get upset over. The boss will understand, we just need a good lead." Kevin tried his best in cheering others up in the squad, though he was never good at, he tried his best to choose the right words.

Kristina placed her hands on her hips, taking in a good amount air in. She exhale, gathering her thoughts and words. Nothing. She shoot Kevin one hell of smile to let him know she was okay. "I want you to stay close to tech head before leaving. I have a few words to exchange with the dean."