Hello again! I bring you chapter 2.

Lawyers: Our client does not own Psych, nor does she own specific details belonging to Dexter. Don't sue her.

Chapter Two: Cuts


Sometime in the past...

It was an accident, that's what I told him, but judging from the look on his face, I don't think he believes me. Really though, it was an accident, or at least the first cut was. It surprised me at first, the way it just seemed to appear on my hand.

As I watched the blood run down my finger, my shock transformed into a morbid curiosity. An unusual feeling spread through me, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. I actually kind of liked it. It made me smile, which was weird because I never smiled. There was just no reason for it, and yet here I was, smiling, with this unknown feeling growing inside of me.

I twisted my hand around in the air so that while the blood continued to trail down my hand, it wouldn't collect up enough at a single spot to the point where it would drip off of me and onto the clean counter top.

My gaze drifted from the cut to the offending knife lying on the counter next to an apple I must have been cutting up before. It lay there portraying a false image of innocence, but I could see right past its façade; its silver blade flirtingly reflecting the sun's rays from the kitchen window.

With my clean hand, I picked up the knife and made another cut, this time on my arm. Then I made another, and then another, and with each cut I made, that feeling inside of me grew until it completely filled me. It seemed to roar in a mix between approval and pleasure at the sight of the red, flowing blood. While this feeling, this Need was satisfied by the blood, at the same time I was satisfied with my ability to keep said blood from dripping onto the clean, white countertop.

This was around the time he walked into the kitchen, my dad. Looking from the knife in my hands to the cuts on my arm, it was pretty easy for him to put two and two together. He took the knife away from me and asked me what the hell I was thinking. He looked frightened.

So I told him it was an accident.

Yes, the first cut was definitely an accident.

The second one was more hesitant, almost unsure.

The third was a test that I graded with a C-. It was slightly too messy, I didn't like it.

The fourth one though, that one was a perfect, clean cut.

A+ work.

The station was abuzz with activity when Shawn and Gus arrived. They had to struggle through a mass of people just to get through the front doors. By now everyone had heard the news report and anyone who knew of someone who had disappeared in the past had flocked to the station to find out if any of the bodies found had been their friends or family. They all stood outside waving pictures and shouting names; blocked off by several officers trying to make order of the crowd.

"Hey! Who just touched my butt?" Gus squawked at he swung around with a glare. "Shawn, we should come back when things have calmed down a bit."

"No way, Gus. If we're to get on this case, we have to do it while it's fresh," Shawn said with an amused smile before announcing loudly, "Psychic Detective coming through!"

The two slipped past the officers with a friendly nod in greeting before heading into the station which was just as crazy inside as it was outside. Officers were moving about every which-way like a bunch of buzzing bees and Carlton was shouting out orders and directing their movements.

"Lassi!" Shawn shouted. "You do your bee dance so well. Look at that control!"

Carlton's shoulders stiffened at the sound of the psychic's voice and he groaned before turning to face the younger man, "Spencer, I don't have time for this."

"It's not my decision to be here Lassi, the spirits demanded it. Their pull was too strong," Shawn said. "The spirits need me to see the Chief."

"I'm sure they do," Carlton said condescendingly and Shawn frowned. "But in case you haven't noticed, she's a little busy at the moment."

Gesturing over at Chief Vick's office, they could see that she was currently talking on the phone and looking quite flustered.

"Don't worry, it'll only take me a second," Shawn said before prancing away to the Chief's office, Gus calmly following in his wake.

Carlton shook his head with a sigh before turning back to the swarm of officers and shouting, "How's the construction coming in the back? I need it done today people!"

Shawn and Gus entered Chief Vick's office just as she hung up the phone with an annoyed growl. Knowing it would be a little redundant to fake a vision about the bodies from the bay seeing as how news reports had been covering the story all day, Shawn instead went with what he had previously told Carlton.

"Chief, I've been getting a strong feeling all day," he began. "The spirits, they-"

"Save it, Mr. Spencer," she sighed. "This is out of my hands."

Remembering her not-so-pleasant phone call, Shawn said, "The FBI, they're taking over the case."

"Yes," she confirmed. "They're flying a special agent down tonight. There'll be a debriefing tomorrow and he'll be picking his team. I advise you to take you visions to him." she stood up with several files in hand. "Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Of course," Gus said, stepping aside to let her pass.

"You're still number one in my book, Chief!" Shawn called after her, receiving a eye-roll in response. Turning to Gus, he grinned, "You heard the Chief, tomorrow, bright and early, we'll meet Mr. FBI man and get on his good side."

"I'm not too sure the FBI has a good side," Gus muttered as he left the Chief's office.

"They can't all be bad," Shawn said, following him out, but paused outside the door. "You go ahead, Gus. I'm gonna stick around here and see if I can get any psychic vibes."

"Okay, but I'm not coming back to pick you up," Gus stated.

"That's fine. Jules or Lassi can give me a ride," he said, waving his friend away.

As Gus left, Shawn turned his attention back on the activity in the station. If he were to get in on the case, he'd have to come up with a vision impressive enough for the FBI agent.

'Looks like I've got a lot of digging ahead of me today,' Shawn thought as he clapped his hands together and called out with a smile, "Hey, Jules!"

It was one in the morning when I received his call. I had picked up the phone, half-asleep and not quite my spunky slasher-self when he said quite clearly, "You've got to stop playing with knives."

That woke me up immediately, and I sat up in bed, my eyes clear and aware. 'You've got to stop playing with knives.' It was a code phrase he used when he wanted to talk to me. It was basically his way of asking if I was alone and free to talk. He never called to exchange pleasantries anymore though, so I knew even without having seen the news reports that this call was all business.

"You've got to stop taking my knives," I said, letting him know that I was, in fact, free to talk. "HelloFather. I haven't heard from you in over a month. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You know damn well why I'm calling," he hissed. "I have told you time and again to quit this sick habit of yours and now look what happened!"

"I can't help what I am," I said simply with a shrug.

"It's called self-control, kid," he growled, but then sighed. "It's too late now though. They found your little grave site."

"It was anything but little," I said indignantly then frowned. "Did you only call me to berate me for a boat crash I had no control of?"

"I'm calling to tell you that you need to stop," he said sternly; trying to order me around as always.

"...Stop?"

"You've been outed, kid. You can't keep doing... what you're doing. If you quit now, your mystery will most likely remain unsolved, but if you keep up with this moonlighting, it'll only be a matter of time before you're caught and drag your family down with you!" he snapped.

"My family?" I asked, amused. "Are you forgetting that you disowned me?"

"That's beside the point and you know it," he said.

"And you know that I'm very careful with what I do," I reminded him. "I won't get caught."

I hung up the phone before he could get out another word and settled back down in bed. As much as I hated to admit it, he did have a point. Life would be harder for me now that the police were aware of me. Still, I couldn't just stop cold turkey. It would be like telling a carnivorous animal to stop eating meat. Not that I ate my playmates, that would just be disgusting.

No, I couldn't stop the Need inside me that wanted to kill. I did have a bit of a problem though. The harbor where I disposed of my playmates was bound to be under police watch by now and there was really no better place in Santa Barbara where I could put them. It's not like we had an alligator farm around.

As I lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling, I realized that I may just have to change the way I killed. Being a creature of habit, it was a strange thought, but it was strange in a good way. I had been killing the same way for so long that I had unknowingly fallen into a rut. Changing my method would bring about a new excitement into my life.

All my life I have been hiding what I did to protect my family, my hobby, and my own existence. I was like a recluse hiding in a house and peaking out at the world through a crack in the blinds, unwilling to show my true self. Suddenly the SBPD were knocking on the front door, asking if I wanted to come out and play.

I climbed out of bed and turned on the lights. After all, who was I to deny the police department a good game?

That's the end of chapter two.

Review please.