I do not own characters or plots from The Fall. I felt like taking them for a dark run.

There will be triggers (sexual content, moral ambiguity, violent content, unsettling dark quotes). It is necessary to advance the story. I do not make light of Paul Spector's actions.

XXX

Chapter 10

January 2012 ~~~ 'Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings...always darker, emptier and simpler.' Friedrich Nietzsche

Paul submitted his resignation to the Suicide Helpline. He listed Sally's growing work responsibilities, his increased client list and problems with Olivia sleeping through the night. They were sorry to lose someone with his background. But truth be told…he might be great with clients; but he wasn't very friendly with staff. He wasn't difficult to work with; he just didn't engage in the lighthearted bantering his colleagues used to relieve stress. Instead, he ran around the block, up the stairs and down the halls to relieve stress. Frankly, for those addicted to chocolate and cigarettes…his health obsession was annoying.

XXX

While Paul's excuse to while away an afternoon was buying an anniversary present for Sally, his main motive was 'people' watching. He recognized his next project in a mall, on the escalator. Her floral perfume had a rose undertone which intrigued him. He enjoyed watching her ass as she walked away. Black skinny jeans, black ankle boots, a black leather jacket, her dark brunette hair bounced with every step she took. She met a couple friends and they laughed as they shopped.

Paul followed the group into a couple stores, learning AM's name from her friends and the store clerks. He bought expensive bubble bath, body lotion, shampoo and half a dozen candles in a light lavender and vanilla scent. He bought Sally a lavender brushed cotton and lace sleep shirt. His last purchase was two very good bottles of white wine with two gourmet takeaway meals. Sally asked her parents to take the children on Saturday night so they could celebrate their anniversary. She thought he was working at the Suicide Helpline. That excuse would give him plenty of time to prowl.

February 2012 ~~~ 'Night is a time of rigor, but also of mercy. There are truths which one can see only when it's dark.' – Isaac Bashevis Singer

Project AM required time to research. He discovered she was an architect, and researched her company. He learned which projects the company had scheduled. Viewing the projects did not provide him with AM's schedule.

Paul managed to follow her from the company to her home, but realized the route they took had traffic cameras at the ready. He needed to find a route to and from her home which did not have security measures. While establishing that route, he realized someone else was observing AM. He needed to know who…was it a new boyfriend? Old boyfriend? He captured a picture of the man, and further research told him it was her ex-husband. Did she know he was stalking her? Why was he stalking her?

Paul researched escape routes from her home, through unsecured streets. It took a week of prowling during his early morning runs. He made cryptic notes to himself on his phone, so he could transfer them to her composition book when the children were in bed and Sally was at work.

March 2012 ~~~ 'He began to understand darkness: darkness as something solid and real, so much more than a simple absence of light. He felt it touch his skin, questing, moving, exploring: gliding through his mind. It slipped into his lungs, behind his eyes, into his mouth...' – Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere

Her underwear drawers were like Christmas morning to a neglected child. Luxurious colors and fabrics enticed his senses. He stroked all of them…unable to decide which one…like a child in a sweet shop. Finally, he selected a sheer raspberry silk and lace panty…beautiful, simple, but delicately sexy. He stroked it over his cheeks before stuffing it in his pocket. He found her rose perfume on her dressing table and stopped to smell it…realizing several minutes later that he lost track of time. He could not linger.

March 15, 2012 ~~~ 'Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams. Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar, and live, as you never lived before!' - Charles Hart, The Phantom of the Opera

The elaborate plans of Paul Spector, voyeur and murderer, unfolded in a perverted, sadistic dance with Alice Parker Monroe. He waited calmly for her to arrive; one of her black silk stockings in his pocket. He ambushed her in the dark of her home, carrying her to the sanctuary of her bedroom. While she flailed, attempting to fight him off; he gagged her and restrained her wrists. He observed her widening eyes as he revealed his face before slipping the black silk stocking around her neck.

As he washed her dark luxurious hair and her pale, beautiful skin; he thought about how he would pose her. He knew exactly what pictures he wanted to take of her posed, fragrant beautiful body.

March 18 ~~~ 'Light thinks it travels faster than anything; but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels; it finds darkness has always got there first and is waiting for it.' - Terry Pratchett

Paul saw his next potential project at a coffee shop near the Botanical Gardens. It was the long dark hair against her red coat which caught his attention first. When she ordered two lattes, he wondered if she was meeting someone. He kept an eye on her while he waited for his own coffee. He felt calmness and clarity when he saw she was meeting another pretty brunette who had a baby girl with her. The second brunette thanked her for the coffee and offered her a sandwich. They talked about the course she just finished in London. She was glad to be home with her sister and baby Lucy.

Paul sat at a bench close enough to overhear parts of their conversation. He opened his backpack for a new composition book. She was pretty legs, pretty clothes, pretty mouth and shining eyes. She was self-assured, confident and obviously loved life. He sketched her face, and began noting details he observed. After she ate lunch with her sister…they parted and Paul followed the pretty brunette to her home. He noted the address, before he went home.

the end of March'It's better to not think about the night and how badly I want her, so I let it sort of stew there in my mind instead.' – Amanda Lance, A Dark Road

Once he started following her…he detailed her movements in his composition book…he detailed her habits…photographs and drawings…elaborate plans which included when he could break and enter. SK normally worked Saturday morning for her firm, and met her sister and niece at the Botanical Gardens at lunch time on Saturday. They discussed SK's work schedule, and when she could come to dinner at her sister's home.

April 3, 2012 ~~~ 'Battle not with monsters lest you become a monster. If you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you.' - Friedrich Nietzsche

Paul took care of breakfast and getting the children ready for school. Once he dropped them off, he returned to the house. Sally attended a breakfast buffet hen party after work. He hoped she had lots of mimosas which would make her friendly. When he got home, she had a load of clothes in the washer, and had picked up the lounge, leaving a basket of toys at the bottom of the stairs.

"Take a shower with me," Paul said, nibbling on her ear.

"That would be nice," Sally melted in his arms. "I was afraid I would fall asleep if I went to bed and waited for you."

"No discussing the house, the children, Livvy's birthday party on the ninth, our jobs, etc. This is Sally and Paul time," he said, kissing her senseless. "Have I told you how much I like when you get buzzed and can't keep your hands off me?"

After their shower and energetic sex, Paul had to get ready for work. "I need you to do something for me," Sally handed him a small gift bag. "Favors from the hen party. Remember the last one?"

Paul grimaced. "Condoms in various colors, flavors and textures, small sex toys, etc. We couldn't even keep the pencils out of it because they were imprinted with naughty sayings which we didn't want Olivia to read."

"This one might be worse." Sally warned him. "There were an awful lot of giggles while the hostess passed them out."

Paul kissed her goodnight and took the bag to his study. Inside were the traditional colored, scented, textured condoms, sex oils, oral sex desensitizing spray, a pair of plastic toy handcuffs …and Jezebel Red nail varnish. He slipped down the hall, accessed his prowling backpack from Livvy's room and slipped the nail varnish inside. He dropped the gift bag in the bottom of the trash and headed for work. After two appointments; he planned to check on his newest project, SK, and establish her schedule.

April 14 ~~~ 'Evil lurks in places you would never imagine and tries to harm its way into your life."

His black clothes hid him in the shadows of the night. He enjoyed walking through her clean home. He listened to the creak of the stairs, but the rest of the house was silent. SK was out. She usually went out on Friday nights with friends and colleagues for a drink or two. Her cat was out, prowling also. Its black coat hiding its predatory ways in the dark also.

Paul took a picture of himself in her bathroom. He enjoyed searching her bedroom. He enjoyed stroking her soft pretty panties against his face. He enjoyed testing the tensile strength of her stockings. He looked at the pictures on her dresser. He inspected her bedside stands…and found a pink vibrator. 'Naughty girl,' he chuckled to himself. The headboard of her bed was perfect for restraining her. He laid out a matching set of bra and panties with her vibrator hidden underneath.

She had no diary or journal to be viewed. He walked through the remaining rooms, and planned where he could hide and not be discovered. He couldn't get into her computer. There was no interesting mail. She had a few non-law books. Most of them were labeled from newsstands or shops at the Belfast or London airport.

He viewed her kitchen…and sat down to peel and eat an orange out of her fruit basket. He doused the kitchen light when he heard a car. He hid in the dark and watched SK enter her home. In the hall, he watched her in her bathroom. When she turned on the bedroom light and started yelling that she was calling the police…Paul slipped out of the back door and into the shadows of the night.

April 15 ~~~ 'A rose by any other name…'

Paul groaned to himself. Steve and Joan were arguing about lap dancers. Joan found a receipt for a strip club where Steve took a client. Sally was nattering on about exclusivity – physical and emotional – as being essential to a marriage. While her naivety was essential in his happily married father of two persona; it was a bit painful also. They hadn't been out in months…he needed to be more attentive. While he had used sex in the past to distract her…their jobs, life and the children acted as cockblockers to that plan. How long had it been since he bathed her, got her drunk and fucked her while she was unconscious? Nights like tonight reminded him Sally helped him be 'ordinary' to camouflage his darkness. He responded appropriately when she stroked his arm and kissed him this morning.

Paul saw a set of lovely legs in high heels coming down the stairs first. The long-haired brunette stood near their table, looking for her friend when the smell of her rose and vanilla perfume invaded his senses. His eyes registered the white silk blouse and black pencil skirt. His eyes registered her clear, pale skin and her rosy lips.

"It's all your fault," he told Steve. "You should have gotten rid of the evidence." He stood, "Another round?" He would get close to her, attempt to get her driver's license. Research her. She might be just a secretary or a teacher…but he had to know her name…he had to know what she did…he had to know where she lived. Who wore a work shirt and skirt on a Saturday night? A professional, who just left work and was stopping for a drink on her way home.

When he asked her if she dropped her purse, she smiled at him and her scent invaded his senses again. He smiled back…but it was a smile borne by the fact he had her driver's license hidden in his sleeve.

April 16, 2012 ~~~ 'A rose is a rose is a rose.'

When he first restrained her hands, and removed his cap and balaclava, she didn't fight him. Her chocolate brown eyes looked at him like she was trying to figure out what he was doing…but his cold grey eyes froze her thoughts. When she realized he wasn't going to say anything…when she realized he was not going to rape her…when she realized he intended to kill her…Sarah Kay fought back with all her energy. 'Sweet Jesus…he is strong...'

He carefully washed every inch of her soft creamy skin. He was in no hurry. He carefully painted her nails with the Jezebel Red nail varnish. He watched the stroke of the brush coloring her well-shaped nails. He knew how he would pose her while she was still pliable. He took pictures of her cleaned, fragrant, posed body. He sighed with satisfaction at the careful fulfillment of his extensive plans.

He could not gaze on her posed body any longer. He had his pictures. He had a lock of her hair. He had his souvenirs. He had her driver's license and a set of house keys to lock the back door when he left. Pleasure was his siren now…but it also followed an extensive plan…alone for hours, remembering the excitement of his complete possession of her. Viewing her pictures, remembering the feel of her soft skin, stroking himself with her pretty panties, touching and smelling the lock of her clean, soft, dark hair.

April 17, 2012 ~~~ 'He that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts, walks under the mid-day sun; Himself his own dungeon.' - John Milton

'Covering a body usually indicates remorse about the murder. These posed and partially covered bodies show no remorse…just using the bodies like dolls, naked with erotic poses. He's older,' Stella thought. 'He wouldn't have this much control in his twenties, and I doubt he's older than forty. If he has this much control in his thirties…I wonder how many victims we've overlooked in the last decade. Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence." Stella mentally quoted Carl Sagan.

April 2012 ~~~ 'One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.' - Friedrich Nietzsche

He took the advice he gave Steve. Don't leave evidence laying around. He filled his car with composition books, pictures, souvenirs, and his mannequin which he had hidden in the abandoned building at the farm. He drove his car to a secure location where he could destroy evidence. He burnt everything, including the clothes from his prowling backpack…just to ensure there was no DNA transfer from his victims to him, and vice versa.

He cursed himself as he set fire to everything. Why the fuck did he let Sally assume he was having an affair with Katie Benedetto? Liz Tyler would have been a better choice. It would have been easier to claim her as the reason he was gone those nights, since she was gone and under refuge protection from Jimmy. Sally did not know her and had no way to contact her.

May 3, 2012 ~~~ 'You're the measure of my dreams.' The Pogue, Rainy Night in Soho

First, Paul raided his closet for a new set of prowling clothes. Second, he took Livvy's four dollies (still naked from their bath in Scotland) and dressed them in clothes he found in her toybox. He ran his hands over the brunette dolly, taking great care to dress her in a satiny cream sheath dress with no underwear. He took great care to brush her tangled hair. He arranged the dollies in Livvy's suitcase and then sat down and wrote a pixie post letter.

'Too much history, too much remembering can ultimately destroy the present and the future.'

He couldn't decide what to do about Rose…he couldn't kill her…but he couldn't let her talk to Stella Gibson again. While the E-FIT was unfortunate; Stella's call sounded like they had discussed his and Rose's relationship…but she had not provided a deposition or sworn a police complaint against him. Taking Rose would destroy her family…just as he had destroyed his because of his fascination with brunettes. He wondered what their lives might have become if Rose had not left him. Instead of testing her limits and touring dark fantasies with him…she ran to the comfort of an ordinary man, ordinary sex and an ordinary life. Because she broke her promise (not to tell anyone) first; he did not feel guilty about breaking his promise to leave her alone. His disappointment with her actions was a bitter taste in his mouth and a twisted memory in his mind.

May 6, 2012 ~~~ 'Even a white rose has a black shadow.'

Paul tried to pay attention to the children's party; giving Olivia and Liam equal shares of his time. Olivia put herself forward several times when he was helping Liam with games and fun. He gave Sally a look and she ceased chatting with Joan to distract Olivia with face painting and other activities. During the cake and ice cream portion of the party…Paul noticed the purple and blue butterfly clip which held a group of helium balloons in place.

The blonde from the train…naked in bed…her right leg bent and tucked under her left knee at her ankle…her legs slightly spread, showing her plush pink vaginal mound…her left hand on her flat stomach, her navel showing between her forefinger and thumb…her right hand lightly cupping her left breast…the butterfly clip attached to her left nipple…looking like a butterfly flew through the window and landed. Eyes closed…as if she had fallen asleep after pleasuring herself.

"What, sorry," Paul realized Olivia was speaking to him. "Sorry little one…I was looking at the butterfly clip and thinking."

"Thinking what, Daddy?" Olivia asked.

"Thinking if we could find a clip like that with a magnet on the back, we could put it on the refrigerator. Maybe we could find two or three. They could be a rotating art exhibit of Liam and your drawings." Paul lied smoothly.

"My drawings," she demanded. "Liam can barely color inside the lines."

"Olivia!" Sally snapped at her and gave Paul a significant look. 'I'm not posting any of your bloody, disturbing pictures,' she thought.

"Go play," Paul ordered Olivia. "I want to talk to Mummy." He observed Olivia's stubborn stance, her arms crossed, her feet spread. "Olivia…" he said, a warning tone to his voice.

When Olivia moved out of hearing range, Paul asked in a low tone of voice. "I saw the look on your face. What was the recent picture?"

"A blonde queen or princess, stabbed and bleeding from her sides with a blood pool by her feet." Sally said. "I know we're supposed to stop those drawings when we see her creating them…but she was done except for finishing the pool of blood. That's when I knew I needed to contact you."

~~~ next day

Paul accessed the hard drive from his laptop. He knew that erasing it destroyed nothing. He had files of women he stalked, evidence of his breaking and entering, pictures of homes. Additionally, uncut tapes of Rose were on it. He took it apart, and vented his frustrations on the hard drive smashing it with a hammer. Fucking Stella Gibson. Fucking PSNI. He wasn't stupid. He found pieces of drywall ceiling on his stairs. He knew what it was from working for the housing authority. The pieces didn't float down the stairs on a wall of water. They were attached to someone, probably the bastard tossing his house, and fell off when the intruder fled from his home. He raised the hammer and brought it down…damn Rose for telling Stella about him. He raised the hammer and brought it down…damn Stella for connecting Fiona, Alice and Sarah. He raised the hammer and brought it down…damn Olivia for taking paper from his office to draw her picture. She must have left an impression on the paper he used for Ian Kay's letter. It's the only way Stella would know he had a daughter. He raised the hammer and brought it down…damn himself for going after Anne Brawley before he stalked her and learned her schedule. He raised the hammer and brought it down…damn his timing. This was the end of his evidence at the house. The books remaining here were burnt. Stop at the Botanical Gardens long enough to drop his computer in the water lily pond. He raised the hammer and brought it down...THINK!

Botanical Gardens to the east bound bus line. Take it to the last stop on the line. Walk two more blocks to the lock up. Empty the lock up. Drive to where the homeless hang out. Access a burn barrel, burn his souvenirs, composition books and pictures. Leave the suitcase where some homeless person would claim it. Find a homeless person who resembled him…acquire his identification. He could not use his Peter Baldwin passport. It needed to be destroyed. There was no sense taking his Paul Spector birth certificate with him. He would take his mom's picture and lock of hair and the family photo they shot at Christmas.

Meet up with Katie – get funds from her. He didn't want to kill Katie…but he had to incapacitate her so she would not follow, or discern his plans. He would not take her with him. She had expectations…which he did not intend to honor. Could he render her unconscious, and then bind and gag her to the sink in the bathroom of his hotel room? Fill the SUV with petrol and drive south to Dublin. Once he was in Dublin, leave the SUV with keys in a seedy part of town. Ferry and train to London. He would get an unregistered mobile, and a hotel room. He needed to change his looks…he needed to make plans…he needed to disappear.