"Oh my God," Somerset said as he moved away from the box. He said into the wire for the guys in the chopper to hear, "California, tell your people to stay away. Stay away now, don't, don't come in here, whatever you hear, stay away! John Doe has the upper hand!"

He turned and ran back towards Mills and John Doe, he yelled for Mills to drop his gun but he was too far away for the younger cop to hear him. He could hear John Doe talking to Mills and he had a good idea what the prick was saying. He had to get to them before Mills did anything.

"Put your gun down!" he yelled as he came upon them.

John Doe was still talking, now Somerset could make out bits and pieces of what he was saying, about Mills' wife.

"It didn't work out, so I took a souvenir, her pretty head."

"You lying shit."

"David, put your gun down!" Somerset told him as he ran up to the younger cop.

"What's in the box?" the fear that John Doe might be telling the truth was etched all over Mills' face.

"Put your gun down."

"What's in the box?"

"You need to put your gun down."

"Tell me that she's alright!"

"David, if you kill him, he wins."

That told Mills everything he needed to know, his eyes clenched shut as a groaning scream escaped him, "NOOOO!"

"She begged for her life," John Doe said.

"Shut up!" Somerset told him.

"She begged for her life and-"

"Shut up!"

"She begged for her life, and the life of the baby inside her."

"SHUT UP!" Somerset backhanded him.

There was a dead silence, then a small smile of amusement on John Doe's face as he saw the expression on Mills' face, "Oh! ...He didn't know."

Mills reached for his gun, but before he could pull it out, he felt the air knocked out of him as he fell to the ground. No, he realized, he had been knocked down, somebody was on top of him and it was a couple seconds before he realized it was Somerset.

"What the fuck are you doing!? Get off of me!"

"Not like this, David, not like this!" Somerset told him. "This is what he wants! Tracy was Envy...you kill him, you complete the list, Wrath."

"Think I care? HE KILLED MY WIFE!"

"I KNOW THAT!" Somerset screamed in his face, jolting the younger cop back to reality. "And he wants you to kill him...he wants it to be quick, easy, exactly what he didn't give any of his victims, he wants you to give him the easy way out...don't give him that satisfaction."

Mills let out a groaning sob of frustration, knowing he was right but wanting not to care. All he wanted to do was empty his whole magazine into that fucker's face. It was obvious it was killing him to do this, but very reluctantly, he held his gun out and let Somerset take it. He did, and pocketed it, and got off Mills, and told him, "Alright...let's take him back and lock him up."

A dry sob rose from Mills' chest as he pointed towards the box.

"I'll call it in," Somerset told him.

"What the hell went on out there?" the police captain demanded to know when they returned.

Mills was incapable of doing anything besides staring straight ahead blankly, half dried tears streaked his face.

"A wild goose chase," Somerset said. "Don't expect that confession."

"That's just great," the captain said, "we spend all night tailing you two, waste all that manpower, for nothing. On top of that, Mills, your wife wants to talk to you."

David blinked. "What?"

"Captain?" Somerset asked.

"She's been asking for you for two hours," he told Mills. "I got her in my office."

"That's..."

"Not possible," Somerset said, "he killed her."

"Who?" the captain asked.

"John Doe, he confessed to cutting her head off, he had it sent to us out there by a delivery service," Somerset told the captain.

The captain did a double take. "I don't know what that little shit stain's trying to pull now, but Mills' wife has been here for the last two hours, frantic about something with one of your dogs."

Mills took one shaky step forward...and then took off running for the captain's office, with Somerset chasing behind him.

"Tracy!" he yelled down the corridor. He practically fell through the frosted glass door trying to open it.

There she was. Alive and well, and just as beautiful as the day he'd married her.

"David, I've been trying to reach you for hours, what happened?" she asked, her voice shaky.

His eyes bulged and he ran towards her and pulled her to him in a crushing hug.

"David! What's wrong?" she asked.

"You're alive," he said in disbelief.

"David...what's the matter?"

"Did someone come to the house today?" he asked.

She nodded, "Yes, that's what I was trying to call you about. We're probably going to be taken to court."

"What happened?" Somerset asked, trying not to let on how shakily anxious he was to both see her alive and hear her answer.

"This man came to the door, said he was from the gas company, I went to put the dogs up but they all went crazy, they were howling and snarling, Lucky got loose and bit him," Tracy explained, "It was horrible, I tried to pull her off of him, but she bit his hand and he was bleeding."

Mills's eyes got wider as he heard this, and he was halfway to a shocked smile of amusement.

"The man hit Lucky to get her off of him and she was whimpering. I offered to call an ambulance for him but he ran off screaming, I took Lucky to the vet to make sure that she was alright, and that she was up on her rabies shots...he hit her hard enough she got a cut on the side of her face. The vet gave her an antibiotic shot and some ointment to put on it for a week. I haven't been able to stop shaking, the whole thing happened so fast and I couldn't stop her."

Mill's bottom jaw dropped as a strangled laugh came out of his mouth, a single, monosyllabic laugh, and another, and another, until he was out and out guffawing, much to his wife's confusion.

"David? What's so funny?"

Somerset had opened his mouth to try and answer but he started laughing too, leaving her doubly confused.

Mills got out a few high pitched shrieking laughs before he was able to ask Tracy, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but David, what're we going to do? He could press charges on us for Lucky biting him."

The two cops laughed in unison at the top of their lungs and about fell against each other. Then they looked at each other, and both immediately stopped laughing, and Mills asked Somerset, "What about the box?"

"What box?" Tracy asked.

Somerset's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, "Oh my God."

"It was a fucking mannequin?" Mills asked in total disbelief.

"With a rather lifelike face mask wrapped over it, quite a likeness to Tracy," Somerset admitted. "Covered in three types of blood...the Pride victim's, his...and your dog's."

"I love those dogs," Mills said in a dead sober tone.

"Even though he'd been regularly cutting his fingerprints off already, he probably mutilated himself just before he arrived at the station, so we couldn't tie any bite marks back to your dog," Somerset explained.

"This...this doesn't make any sense, why the mannequin head? Why'd he go to the house if he wasn't planning to kill her?" Mills wasn't even sure which way was up.

"Know what really doesn't make sense?" Somerset asked. "You've only been here for a week...how the hell did he have time to fix up a mask to look like your wife?"

Mills just looked at him, lost.

"You weren't even in this department when he started this whole game of murder," Somerset told him. "A year, there was no way back then he could've known you'd be transferring here."

The younger cop chewed on this for a moment and asked, "So who was he originally going to make his Envy victim?"

Somerset shrugged, "I don't know...there's nothing to envy about my life."

Mills tried to make some sense of it, and he asked Somerset, "Was he watching us before we moved here?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, we don't know who he is, where he comes from, he has all the time in the world on his hands, it's possible he commuted back and forth from here to Springfield every day."

"He could've been stalking us for months and we'd never know it," Mills realized.

"Envying you, your job, your wife, your home, your life together..."

"Oh shit, I can't even think of that," Mills said. "But why the mannequin head?"

"I have a theory," Somerset said. "It dawned on me during the car ride out there."

"I'm all ears."

"Remember my question? Why didn't John Doe kill the Lust victim himself?"

"Yeah."

"And Pride...from a technical standpoint, he didn't kill her."

"He cut off her nose, he sliced up her whole face."

"Yes...but she died from overdosing on pills. All she had to do was call 911. He gave her the choice, he knew which one she'd take. That's nothing like the others, the others, he put a gun to their heads and made them do what they did...I don't think he could actually kill a woman himself."

"As sick a fuck as he is..."

"He directly killed Gluttony, Sloth, and Greed...all men. But he needed a surrogate to kill Lust for him, and he gave Pride a way out...I don't think he could."

"What is that, mommy issues?" Mills asked.

"Who knows? Like I said, it doesn't have to make sense to us...only to him."

"Okay...so why the mannequin head?" Mills asked.

"He wanted you to kill him," Somerset said. "He didn't want to rot away in a prison cell for 50 years, he wanted you to put him out of his misery and help him escape his destiny of life in prison. He'd been watching you, he knew you were a hothead with a hair trigger, he knew what it would take for you to actually kill him, if he confessed, and there was corroborating evidence, to killing Tracy."

Somerset raised a finger to get Mills' attention, "If you noticed during his little tirade in the car, he blamed the victims for their own murders, based on the sins they committed...the choices they made." He counted them off on his fingers, "Gluttony didn't have to eat himself to 500 pounds, Gould didn't have to be a greedy son of a bitch defense attorney, Lust didn't have to be a pro, Pride didn't have to be vain. In his eyes, none of them were justified in the choices they made. But you, Wrath...you would've been justified shooting him if he'd killed Tracy and had her head sent special delivery to us...you shoot him over a dummy head and your wife's still alive, you have no justification, his circle is complete."

Mills let out a slow whistle, "Heavy stuff, man. How'd you get to be so smart?"

"Oh, part of it's just age and experience...the other part is I spend a lot of time at the library."

Mills let out a small chuckle.

"So..." he said, "what now? You've been here 20 years, and you never saw anything like this."

"Nope."

"So what's that say for me just walking into this?" Mills asked.

Somerset was quiet for a few seconds, then said, "I don't know...and honestly, I'm glad I don't have to find out."

"What? You're still leaving?" Mills asked.

"That was the plan, the case is closed."

"Don't bet on it," the captain said as he entered the room.

"What do you mean?" Mills asked.

"That son of a bitch is walking."

The two partners looked at each other.

"What?" Mills asked.

"No confession, no physical evidence."

"He had the victim's blood on his hands!" Mills said, "he marched right in here covered in blood, he confessed."

"All circumstantial and not strong enough to convince a judge to remand him," the captain said, "they're releasing him now."

"What?" Mills and Somerset exchanged another look, and they took off.

"You son of a bitch!" Mills ran out the doors after John Doe, who was halfway to the curb.

He turned around and faced the irate cop and said with a small mocking smile, "This has been fun, David...we'll have to do it again sometime."

Somerset grabbed Mills a second before the wiry cop would've strangled the killer.

"I look forward to seeing your beautiful wife again," he added.

"Hey."

They turned to the sound of another man's voice. At the curb, there was a tall, skinny, dark haired man dressed in a suit and a tan trench coat.

"Oh my God," Somerset recognized the man from the massage parlor.

"Remember me?" the man asked John Doe.

BANG!

Mills felt his body jolt, he was looking every which way to see what happened and got his answer when he saw John Doe crumple to the ground, a strained whimper of pain emanating from his mouth while both hands pressed against the bloody crotch of his pants.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Drop your weapon!" Somerset said as he pulled his piece and ran over to the man.

Mills joined his partner, and just like that they both found themselves standing over the body of John Doe. Killer of five, now deceased himself.

"Karma," Somerset noted. "Sir, lower your weapon."

The nervous man shook his head and turned his gun against himself.

"Whoa!" Mills said, "don't do this, pal."

"He made me kill that woman," he said, sounding close to hyperventilation, "How am I supposed to live with that? I didn't want to die, but because of what I've done, I can't live. I can't eat, I can't sleep, it haunts me every minute of the fucking day." He shook his head, then pulled the trigger and blew his own brains out.

"NO!" Mills screamed.

Both cops ran over to him, Mills reached to check for a pulse, Somerset hung back. He knew, you always checked vitals but he could tell, the man was already gone.

"For his sake let's hope his suffering is finally over," he said as he saw his partner pull back in silent despair.

Mills looked towards Doe's body and commented, "Yeah...and let's hope there really is a hell, and his has just begun."

Mills looked at the old book with a cover so worn the title was barely legible, that had been slid over to him at his desk and looked up to the person who put it down, Somerset.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Are you a Christian, Mills?" he asked.

"That a joke?" the younger cop asked.

"Orthodox Christianity recognizes an 8th deadly sin."

Mills' eyes widened as he looked up at his partner. "We got another one running around?"

"The man who shot John Doe...the 8th deadly sin...despair," Somerset told him.

Mills was quiet for a second, then said in a low humor, "Guess seven deadly sins was catchier than eight."

"Are you familiar with the story of Pandora's Box, Mills?" Somerset asked.

"You're worse than my school teachers, you know that?" David asked as he stood up.

"People think when Pandora's box was opened, the literal end of the world came out of it, plague, famine, floods, earthquakes, fires, all that kind of stuff."

"But they, whoever 'they' are, are wrong, right?" Mills asked cynically.

"What came out of the box, was despair...because what came out was all knowledge of the future...knowing everything that would happen, when it would happen, when and how everybody would die...all hope was gone," Somerset said. "Knowledge of what was to come, was even deadlier than all the curses and plagues that were unleashed on the world."

Mills thought about that for a minute and concluded, "Kind of fits...poor bastard."

"If hope doesn't survive, then nothing survives," Somerset said.

"Catchy stuff, I'll have to write that one down," Mills joked.

"So...how're you doing?" Somerset asked.

Mills shrugged, "Fine...one week on the job and the department's already got me seeing a shrink."

"Is it helping?"

"Fuck if I know."

"Well it's probably not a bad idea anyway, considering what you've already been through," Somerset told him.

Mills nodded uncertainly, "Yeah..."

"You get your temper under control, you'll go far in this department, you're a good cop, you don't have to prove it, not to me, the captain, or anybody else, you just have to do it," Somerset told him.

Mills looked at him with a mildly shocked expression. "Thanks, man."

There was a brief silence as Somerset just seemed to stare off into nothingness, and finally he said, "The sickest...serial killer this city has ever seen...and the case will go down as 'unsolved' because John Doe was released from custody before he was gunned down."

"But we know the truth," Mills said.

"We do, but the world won't, officially the families of the victims will never know, only us. Can you live with that?" Somerset asked.

"Damn right."

"Me too," Somerset nodded.

Mills shrugged, "Just sorry your track record ended on it."

"I said before," Somerset told him, "I've had other open cases, which I followed as closely as I could to their natural conclusions. John Doe is dead, that's a natural enough conclusion for my satisfaction."

"Amen."

"How's Tracy doing?"

"Good...she finally told me about the baby."

"Congratulations," Somerset smiled.

Mills cocked his head to the side, "You know there's something I still don't get...how did John Doe know Tracy was pregnant?"

"I asked her about the day the 'gasman' came, she was on the phone with the pharmacy ordering some prenatal vitamins, apparently he picked up just enough of the conversation to connect the dots," Somerset explained.

Mills looked very somber, and almost like he was about to start a cold sweat as he said, "Just knowing that...knowing he was in our house, with her, alone..."

"And the dogs," Somerset pointed out.

"Just makes me want to quit this job and never let her out of my sight."

"Ah, good, your parental instincts are beginning to kick in already," Somerset said lightly.

"Or at least get her a gun to keep at home...but I know she wouldn't use it."

"Just keep the dogs around, and you'll be fine," Somerset said.

Mills laughed.

"You know, it's not too late to transfer back to Springfield," Somerset told him. "I'm sure your old department would jump at the chance to have you back...get back to where normal everyday murders are committed that you can make some sense of them."

"Nah," Mills shook his head, "I'll be fine. Now that you're not here, somebody's gotta take over and drive the captain crazy."

Somerset laughed.

"I'll never be you," Mills pointed out.

"That's good," Somerset told him. "You don't want to be me. You want to enjoy that family of yours, have something other than this job to keep you going."

"Yeah..." Mills did a double take. "For that matter, what're you going to be doing now?"

"Oh...I'll be around," Somerset said. "Somebody's gotta mentor you, even off the clock, teach you how to really be a pain in the department's ass."

Mills laughed.

"You two doing anything for dinner tonight?" Somerset asked.

"Eh, we're just gonna eat cheeseburgers, play the lotto and watch TV, like everybody else in this city."

"Okay, okay," Somerset responded, "You mind if I swing by after dinner?"

"Hell, come for dinner...you're not a vegetarian, are you?"

"Oh hell no," Somerset answered.

"Then come on over, it'll be fine. You don't drink wine with cheeseburgers, do you?"

"Oh no, I take a beer then."

Mills laughed. "I wish I'd transferred here earlier...got to work with you longer."

Somerset smiled. "That would've been nice."

"Your homework assignments suck though," Mills said as he held up the book.

"Better get used to it," the ex-cop told him as he turned to leave, "I have just begun to teach you what I know."

"Looking forward to it," Mills called back as Somerset left the room.