Ok so this my friends is my first PR fic, Like I once said I don't normally write PR fics and I always write Alternate Universe Fics, that's my forte. So please take a look hope you enjoy, if not too bad :p
Summary: read and find out! But I will say that it is about the first and second group of rangers.
The moon is full.
The night is young.
A figure in black shadows looks towards the heavens.
A smile crosses upon its lips.
"Let's play" it whispers.
In a stream of crimson drips.
"Time of death, 1:00 a.m." he says, as he jutes this down on his clipboard. His rises to his feet as the paramedics pull a white sheet over the body. He's in the park; street lamps line the path with a soft white glow, the scent of flowers, fresh grass and blood fills the air in which he breathes. "This is the third one this month" he whispers to himself in total disgust as he removes his gloves. His temple throbs; a migraine, he notes as he removes his glasses and rubs his fingers against his head to sooth the unpleasant sensation.
"Take her to the morgue for further investigation and an autopsy" he says to the paramedics, he didn't seem to hear them at first, they were apparently trying to get him out of his stupor for awhile now. The sight of a bloodstain on the otherwise pristine white sheet makes him turn away. He was going to be sick.
"What sick mind would do such a thing?" He thinks to himself as he tries to stop the insistent pain of his head.
"Doctor Cranston?" He looks up and turns to the speaker of his name.
"Yes?" He asks, as a man dressed in a black shirt tucked into black jeans, approaches him. He was tall, maybe 6 foot; William noted, and his hair was short, and spiked from what he could see. He also had on a long black jacket, which seemed to follow him like a shadow and black boots. "An avenging angel?" William thought, but then the strangers' eyes caught Williams' attention. They were dark brown, and although they gave the impression of warmth, William could feel the icy reserve residing within them, they practically made the hairs on his neck rise. A sudden sense of respect for the man snaked it's way into Williams' brain. This man was not a man to be messed with.
"I'm Lieutenant Thomas Oliver; L.A.P.D." the man said in a deep, serious, almost inhumane voice, "I'd like to ask you some questions that concerns tonight's homicide."