This won't be too long of an author's note, but for those who hate the death or maming of main characters, TURN BACK NOW. If you don't care, then enjoy!

"Where the hell is Neal? Jones," Peter shouted at his friend and colleague. Jones came jogging over with a folder in hand.

"Yeah Peter?"

"Where the hell is Caffrey?!" Peter was frustrated that his CI was about an hour and forty-five minutes late.

"I don't know. I can check his tracking data for you." Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and tapped his foot. He and Neal hadn't been getting along the past few days and they had a falling out the day before, leaving Neal to sort out his issues along in an empty house. June was visiting a friend out of town and wouldn't be back for another two weeks and Mozzie was somewhere other than there, at least that's what Peter assumed. The little man was weird.

"No, no. That's alright Jones, I can do it." Peter actually felt kind of stupid for forgetting about Caffrey's anklet. He called the Marshal's office.

"He is currently at 87 Riverside Drive," the operator told Peter and he hung up. He motioned for Diana to join him and Jones.

"I need to check on Caffrey and tell him to get his ass moving so until I get back, Diana, Jones is in charge and you are to help out with anything he needs. Both of you keep everyone in line. I won't take more than an hour," Peter told them. "Hopefully," he mumbled under his breath as he grabbed his jacket and swiftly headed for the elevators.

Peter arrived at June's house a few minutes later and knocked on the door. No answer. "Neal," Peter called as he opened the door, which was strangely unlocked. Usually, Neal, June or the housekeeper would lock the door. "Neal!" Peter reached for his gun and grabbed it out. He walked into the kitchen and there was a slight breeze from the open windows. Strange, Peter thought because it was winter and cold. Peter walked over and cautiously searched the kitchen. He noticed that the closet was ajar and he opened it. There was a blood spattered body propped up against the side that fell out when the door opened. Peter recognized it as the housekeeper. Her eyes, or should he say eye, gazed sightlessly at the ceiling and what was left of her face was twisted up in agony. The blood was already beginning to dry so this had happened a bit ago.

Peter almost missed the note pinned to her with a very beautiful and sharp knife. Peter glanced at it and had to read it a second time before his eyes widened and he sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. "NEAL!" Peter was screaming his name and got no answer. He busted down the door and almost screamed at what he saw. The table was flipped on it's side and three of the chairs that had sat around it, lay broken on the floor. Furniture was tipped over and the terrace window was smashed and Peter could hear the crunching the shards made under his foot. This didn't disturb him as much as the blood did. There was blood everywhere. It was staining the glass shards, pooled on the terrace and on the floor inside, on the furniture and smeared across the walls. Peter walked out on the terrace and saw a large puddle of blood next to an overturned wrought iron table. The chairs that sat by it were no where to be seen. There was, however, a knife. It was a carving knife that had two letters carved in it's ivory handle. The blade gleamed and shimmered in the pale winter light and it still shone with the blood of it's victim. Peter walked back in and searched the entire room. No one was in here, but he discovered more blood and some bloody rope. There was a major struggle in here and Peter saw scuff marks that lead in a line across the room which meant someone had been dragged. Peter thought that this was as worse as it could get. He turned and looked at the blank canvas that was propped up on the stand. Something was written backwards on it and Peter didn't want to turn to see it in the mirror, but he did and felt bile rise in his throat. It definitely was not red paint that the person used.

Look in the Light

Peter didn't understand at first, but then he looked at the light that hung above the now overturned dining table. There was a shadow of something in it and Peter slid a chair over and grabbed the small note that was written in the same font as the last and was signed with the same initials as he found on the knife's handle. Peter's eyes widened for a second time and he felt sick again. The note fell from his shaking hands as he cursed and swore like there was no tomorrow. He grabbed the chair for support as his knees buckled and he staggered to the doorway. He pulled out his cell and called Diana.

"Yeah boss?"

"Di...Diana we have a critical situation. Bring backup and everyone. Something...something...there's," Peter stuttered.

"What's there Peter? Did Caffrey cut his anklet again?" Peter snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at the light again. There was still something up there and Peter reached up to grab it. He dropped it like it burned him and he stared at it with fear and horror. "Peter? Is something wrong?"

"Get over here now Diana. I'm at Caffrey's and I know why he didn't come in today." Peter hung up the phone and hoped that Diana realized that something was seriously up.

In fifteen minutes, SWAT was bursting into the large house and Diana came rushing up the stairs to see what Peter was freaking out about. She got to the doorway and nearly fainted. Blood and overturned furniture was what she saw first. Peter was sitting on one of the only non bloodstained chairs in the whole room. His head was in his hands and she put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her with defeat in his eyes.

"He didn't run, his anklet was in the light and so was this." Peter handed her the second note and her eyes went wide and got a little teary. She dropped the note and put her hands up to her mouth and the SWAT team and Jones came in. Even the SWAT members looked horrified at the state of the room.

Peter kept reading the two notes over and over again and he was hoping for some clue as to what happened. After about the twentieth time reading it over, something in his mind clicked. Peter's face grew solemn and dark. He recognized the handwriting and the initials. He knew why they left notes and why they left the knife. It was part of their way. This person had been terrorizing the city every five years for the past ten. He killed exactly fifteen people and always left the same calling card and signs. Then, as suddenly as the whole ordeal had began, it stopped. The fifteenth victim was taken and the only thing left on the seen was a knife like the one Peter had found on the terrace and a folded note signed with the same initials as on the knife. There was no sign of him at all for almost five years until now. Suddenly, he's resurfaced. Peter couldn't believe it didn't click as soon as he saw the first note and then the knife.

This was the case that Neal so desperately hated, that he and Peter had had a falling out over. At first Peter didn't understand why, but now reading the notes, he knew. Apparently, Neal had done some extra research using his own sources. Caffrey had discovered his identity, but realized that he was going to be the next target. He was trying to save Peter and everyone else. He knew that if he told them then they would become targets because no one ever could find out the true identity of this man, this notorious serial killer that had already taken and slaughtered seven people for every day of the week. Neal had now become his fifteenth hostage and victim. No one ever survived being kidnapped by this man. In fact, most died after an hour.

Peter knew this killers game, he had been researching. He had a pattern. Ten years ago, when this killer first emerged, he came out on December tenth. He took a victim each day until his fifteenth victim. He then wrote one last note and left the same type of knife with the same initials on it. No one would hear from him until five years later on December tenth. He took fifteen more victims and none survived like before. The same message was written on the note as the last time the last victim was taken. Now it had stayed the same pattern. On December tenth, the first victim was taken, a young fourteen year old boy by the name of Casey Fitzgerald. There was no reason for him to target any of the victims. It was all randomized unless someone had uncovered his identity. Five years ago, an FBI agent, Agent Rikens, had been doing her research. She never went into work the next day so her best friend and partner Agent Cassidy stopped by her house. No one had heard from Agent Rikens again.

If the victim did not survive, then an address was written on a slip of paper and left outside of the FBI's main building. It always led them to where the body was. By then, no one could recognize them. This time, the killer had done the same thing to the previous fourteen victims. None survived, so fourteen different address' showed up at the FBI building. The first victim's address was left at the beginning of the eleventh and so on. They had gotten a note with the fourteenth victim's address written on it earlier that morning. Peter had never thought that this man would take Neal. Peter kept scanning the notes. There should have only been one note, yet there was two. The final note always said the same thing, but now there was a second one. Peter read what the final note had said again.

It's been a good game and I would love to play again. I do send good will towards those who have lost one of their family members or dear friends. It has been fun. Until we meet again.

A.D.

Then he reread the second one utterly surprised.

If you Feds are reading this then know that I won't kill Mr. Caffrey immediately like I have before. If he makes it til Christmas day alive, then you can have him back that way. It shall be my Christmas present to you and also an apology for causing you such a hassle. Who knows, Caffrey may survive and be able to tell you Merry Christmas. I highly doubt it though, you see, I am not a killer.

Your con is smart though. He figured out who I was after the first victim and knew that I would be coming after him, but he didn't know when I was coming. However he figured that out soon enough after. He was waiting for me you see. He put up quite a fight unlike that other lady. It didn't take much for her to kill herself. It was pitiful really. I leave you this note to tell you that I believe that Mister Caffrey won't survive, but if he does, then feel free to take him. I left the tracker because I hate being followed, don't you? Oh and don't forget to watch the T.V. tonight, I hear there's something special on channel 15 that you don't want to miss. Until we meet again.

A.D.

Peter was frightened, scared and horrified all at once. They had yet to figure out who's initials they were, but Peter was starting to think it was a nickname.

"Diana! Turn the T.V. to channel 15," Peter shouted at Diana who immediately obliged. Those who were still in the room gathered around the T.V. and were horrified by what they saw.

Heh heh heh. I'm so damn evil right?! Do you know who this mystery person is? Why are they giving Neal a chance at life? He's lying, isn't he? I guess no one will know until the next chapter. I'm still deciding over whether Neal should die before Christmas or after Christmas because NEAL MUST DIE AT SOME POINT! It's just a matter of when he dies. I leave you pondering whether you should have even read this or if you should have just avoided the nightmares. I suggest that if your stomach is queasy now, TURN BACK, maybe. I don't care, if you enjoy this then by all means review and keep reading. I will find out who views this, but then doesn't review. Until we meet again, or if we never do then you're in luck.

-Angel