I think I saw you in the shadows
I move in closer beneath your windows
Who would suspect me of this rapture?

And who but my black hearted love?
And who but my black hearted love?

When you call out my name in rapture
I volunteer my soul for murder
I wish this moment here forever

And you are my black hearted love
And you are my black hearted love

In the rain
In the evening
I will come again

I'd like to take you
I'd like to take you
To a place I know
My black hearted

In the rain
In the evening
In the garden
I will come

-

"I mean, the poor boy must have screamed."

The yellow police tape cuts off the populace from the rather grisly crime scene, causing people to push and shove, trying to get their eye full of the macabre.

The police are taking quick photographs of the broken white body, limbs bent at awkward right angles and legs open to indicate rape. The face is badly cut up; the blood had clotted the night before, but the dark stain on the concrete is tacky under the boy's head.

Reporters are asking quick questions, firing off the sentences like verbal gunfire. The police block the scene with their bodies, grumbling that they can't tell anything yet.

The chief doesn't want to look over his shoulder, but he does anyway. He bites back bile when his eyes rest on the skinny body of the John Doe.

The boy is young, probably as young as his daughter; white curly hair sticks to the red lacerations , staining the follicles a light pink. His white button up is torn, and a pale blue back back has been thrown to one haphazard direction. Whitish blue jeans hang off of one delicate ankle, and the off white boxers have left angry red marks on the boy's pale skin. His small hands have broken and red fingernails, indicating the boy had fought back. The CSI units scrape under his fingernails for a skin sample.

The chief can't bring himself to look at the boy's face, so bloody and distorted they would have to use dental and fingerprints to identify him. The older man sighs when they put the tiny body in the black bag, selfishly thanking God that it wasn't one of his own.

-

-

I am so mean to any of my ukes! I mean, L is the one normally getting raped and/or killed, but Near gets it a lot and so does my original character Rufus! (which that reminds me...I'm going to self-pimp....) If you guys wanna read an original story by me, you can find it here: w w w. fictionpress . com/ u / 645257 / just take out the spaces.

Did you notice I changed my name?

Alrighty, about the song and possibly why it doesn't match that well with the drabble. I think of these things like little clips from movies (maybe that's why some of them don't make any sense --face palm--) The song is suppose to be what's happening BEFORE the drabble. Think of it like it's inner monologue of the killer. --shrug--

Anyway, please review and also PLEASE check out 'When you think you're alone'. :3