Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Otherwise, Fitch and Sanchez probably would have hooked up already.
Rated M as a just-in-case. I don't expect this to be a light and fluffy fic.
A/N: OK peeps, I had this basic idea in my head for an old old old X-Files fanfiction - but I could never get it to work within the constraints of the show. I just needed more of a team to not ... anyway, you'll see how it'll play out. I can't spoil it before I've begun, now can I? This is going to be a multipart fic, and at the moment, I'm not 100% sure how long. I just had this beauty in my head and needed to get it down and my beta and best friend - Rockerbabe - screamed at me via text to post it NOW. I most likely won't be updating this for a week, I am on the 4th and final part of the CPA exam and my test is almost a week away. Needless to say, I'm mostly living with my nose in the review materials. Who knows, I'm a review whore so I might be coerced into updating sooner if I find I can't ignore the fanfiction itch. Also, I tend to ramble on (if you haven't noticed) in my A/Ns. I always feel the need to clarify or interact with my readers. It makes things more fun and interesting this way. I'm not someone who doesn't listen to constructive criticism. I dislike flames, but I like good solid criticism. That's the only way to grow as a writer. Anyway, it's been...at least 2 years since I've written a novel length fanfiction and I'm excited to get back into it again. I hope - whoever reads this besides my BFF - enjoys the ride with me. Enjoy and don't hate me too much. And with that, I give you the Prologue to Murder 1-8-7.
Murder 1-8-7
Prologue
Detroit, Michigan.
Most people, when they hear the name Detroit, they shudder and shy away. Their minds turn to the things they see on the nightly news. They think of the roughly 2,000 violent crimes per 100,000 population; and those are just the reported ones. They think of the drugs, drive-bys, shootings, rapes and theft. They see the dirt, grime, and a city of corrupt politics. They think of the old Devil's Night arsons. If Detroit was a person, it'd be the kid in high school everyone was afraid of. You know that guy. The one with the tattoos and piercings. The black leather and crazy eyes. They see the broken windows, crack houses, gang graffiti all over the empty buildings and the stench of poverty. They fail see the beauty beneath the filth. They don't realize that Detroit is a city where only the strong survive.
In his ten years on the force, Detective Louis Fitch has seen veterans break in only a way that Detroit could do; driven to insanity from violent crimes, dead ends, and heartless leaders. This city either eats you alive, devours your soul and leaves you begging for mercy or you become a survivor. It's the kind of city that forces you to do whatever it takes.
There's a sick kind of beauty in that.
It's the kind of thing that makes you love it or hate it.
Coming into the bull pen that morning, turning on the lights and starting up his computer, Fitch didn't know this would be the day of reckoning; this would be the day everything changes.