Chapter One
Being a serial killer ain't the easiest thing to do. Especially when kids are somehow involved. It all started back in July, on Independence Day. I was driving around, making my calls with my partner, when we heard screaming from one of the houses. Our training kicked in and we rushed towards the source.
Impatient, I kicked in the door. Sara following me inside, and we started to check the rooms. The whole downstairs was clear, so we started checking upstairs. We heard crying coming from one of the rooms. Pausing, I silently nodded to my partner, before slowly walking towards it.
We heard voices on the other side of the door. One was angry, while the other was panicking and terrified. Kicking the door open, I witnessed the mother's face bloody, the culprit's fist was perhaps broken and bloody as well.
"Sara, don't call it in. I've got some business to take care of," I growled, not taking my eyes off the man. Sara silently nodded, knowing what was to happen. She took the woman and the kids outside, while I dealt with the assaulter.
The man didn't take any moment to get his breathing under control, and lunged. Smiling a devilish grin, I swiped out my knife. With one fluid movement, I sliced his throat open.
Stumbling back against the wall, he slumped down, never taking his hands off his throat. Clicking my tongue in disappointment, I knelt on one knee before him, my knife still dripping with the hot and sticky fluid.
"I'm disappointed in you. I'd honestly thought you'd put up much more of a fight if you were punching a woman...In front of kids" I chuckled, bopping him on the nose, with the handle of my knife.
The last bit of life leaving his eyes, I stood up and looked around. I noticed there were some paintbrushes and can of red paint by the desk. Why in the name of hell would there be that sort of thing there, I have no clue.
I picked the fattest paintbrush out of the bunch and put on a pair of latex gloves. Gently taking the lid off, I set it aside. Taking it to the wall where the body currently was, I began to paint.
"Jesus, Mia!" I didn't need to turn around to know Tracy was looking at the scene with wide eyes. "What the hell did you do?" she exclaimed.
"Sonovabitch punched his wife or sister's face in, right in front of the kids" I calmly replied.
"I saw the evidence" Tracy was careful not to lean too much on the doorframe.
Sighing at my work with a content smile, I plop the brush into the can, putting it back on the desk.
Tracy took out a plastic bag, while I took off the used gloves. Putting it into the bag, she tied them off, before we both walked downstairs and out the front door.
There were two others there. Officer Melissa Person and Officer Beth Burnside. This small group of police officers knew I was a serial killer. It also didn't help that I threatened to kill their families if they reported me to the Chief. Seeing my handiwork, they kept their mouths shut.
"We need to leave," I said simply. They all nodded, Tracy, allowing the beaten mother to sit in the front of her squad car, with the kids riding in the back with me and Sara.
After admitting the mother, who we then found out her name was Amelia, into the hospital for her injuries, we took the kids out to the Waffle House. Those two were fucking hungry, and I mean it, down the very last bit. Eh, sorry. Too much Magic School Bus for my age.
Once we sat down to eat, I took my leave to the restroom. I had my bag on my back, so I took it off. I rummaged through it to find what I need. Some hydrogen peroxide.
Turning on the water, I run the blade through it. I watched as the blood was rinsed off, running down into the drain. I then used the hydrogen peroxide and a washcloth I dug out of my bag to sterilize it, cleaning off the bloodstains in the process.
Putting the knife back into its place on my belt, I put the peroxide back, before wringing out the washcloth carefully. Once I was done, I rinsed the sink with warm soap and water, before walking back out to the girls and the kids.
None of the girls looked at me, which at the time, felt great. There was always the sympathy for my victims later, but never the regret. Digging into the food, my mind was preoccupied with what tomorrow might bring.
Smiling, I thought back to the words I painted on the wall. Oh, it's going to be a hail mary in the morning.
Angela sighed and rubbed her temples at the sight of the crime scene. Above where the body laid, was a message.
Physical abuse. Instant justification. Punishment method: Execution.
The execution method on the body was a quick slit to the throat, matching the other cases to the Justice Killer.
"Let's think. Physical abuse...What do we know right now about the victim?" The blonde asked Yvette, who walked to her with her notepad out.
"Darwin Nigel. Thirty-two, with a history of domestic violence and drug trafficking," she stated.
"Would explain the justification" Angela pointed out.
If the victim had a history of domestic violence, typically it would be aimed at either his wife, since they know he was married, or towards his kids.
"Alright. Let's bag him up and take him downtown" she patted the Latino's arm and walked out of the house.