-1Disclaimer: I do not own Rizzoli and Isles. Obviously. If I did, I wouldn't be dreading going to work tomorrow. Janet, Tess, TNT et al all the lucky so and so's.

Distance

Prologue

I was seven years old when I first drew blood. My father had bought me a puppy for Christmas. I had so wanted a puppy. I had dreamed of playing in our back yard, running around, rolling in the grass together and playing fetch.

I had asked my father for a Golden Labrador. I loved golden fur. The way the sunlight bounced and played off it. So beautiful. So perfect.

I can recall spending many an afternoon running down my yellow crayons drawing my dream pet. My mother hung them on the fridge and a few in my bedroom.

That Christmas my father got me a puppy. A Labrador. A chocolate Labrador. It was wrong. So very wrong.

A week after I got him, I carried him up to my tree house. I pulled up the loose floorboard with the nail sticking out, and I erased the mistake. I dug a hole at the bottom of the garden and threw his mangled body in.

The hole I'm digging now is much larger. It has to be to accommodate the size of the woman I'm about to bury. Alive. It's so much more fun when they're alive. Digging holes burn a lot of energy. To waste that on a dead bag of flesh and bone is a sin.

I move over to my latest conquest. She was too easy. She had cracked so fast. Fell apart before the games had even begun. No matter, I've already found someone new. A target I'm sure is worthy of my attention.

I roughly drag my worthless conquest to her muddy grave. Tossing her in carelessly. I reach down and pick up the shovel. Then patiently wait for her to wake.

It doesn't take long. Within a few minutes she's shifting slightly. A grin stretching across my face, I start to shovel on the dirt. I see her eyes pop open wide. I see the fear seep into her eyes. Terror etched onto her mud and blood covered face. She starts to squirm, then thrash wildly about, but I've bound her too tightly. She's trapped. I trapped her. Muted screams escape from behind the gag I've stuffed into her mouth.

I inhale deeply, imagining I can smell her fear. My body grows excited as a thrill of arousal rushes through me. I ignore my body's immediate needs though, and carry on piling dirt onto the tiring body below me.

Before long, all that remains is a smooth earthy layer. I crouch down, hand caressing the soil beneath. I lovingly stroke the earth. I think about the suffocating woman below. No more screams. No more fight. No more.