This is a short little idea I had where Gold is a murderer, serial killer, whatnot. And he has currently evaded the police by either pinning crimes on other people or by being very skilled in this endeavor of his. It's not thought through, it's not something big, it's just a little one shot that I was inspired for upon seeing a gif on my tumblr dashboard.

AU.

Slowly, Gold buttoned up his vest, one at a time. Cold, emotionless eyes ran over the scene before him as he dressed himself. The lifeless body of yet another one of his victims lay beneath the golden sheets, a message to the police so they would know exactly who claimed this beauty that lay in the middle of some small hotel room with lips as red as blood and skin as pale as snow. Someone who no one would miss, but he would.

He'd miss the look of surprise in her eyes when rough precise fingers wrapped around a delicate, soft, throat. He, alone, would miss the nails of life digging into the latex gloves he had worn before taking her life.

This would not be his masterpiece. She had been a spur of the moment need, a lust filled haze that had overcome him the second she flashed him that smile in the bar, the moment she slid onto the stool next to him. If Gold could, he would mark her with his name, brand her so he could remind himself the next victim would be better. More somehow with a scene as gruesome as he could, as creative as his master hands could construct. Not just a sleeping beauty for others to cry over as if they care.

"I don't get it." Regina scoffed, hands on her hips as skilled eyes washed over the scene before them. One of the maids had found her like this, naked and covered in a golden sheet with eyes gauged out and replaced by white roses. "It's like he wanted it to be something more. Something like the scene back in Millford Grove. Elaborate and precise, but this screams hasty confusion."

"D'you think he was in a hurry?"

Sighing, she stepped closer, leaning just enough to get a good look at those haunting budding flowers stuck where they don't belong. "No. There's no heat coming off of her skin. The blood is dried, dark, she's been here longer than we think…Any DNA?"

"None. After we did the sweep, we checked the body and there's nothing."

"What are the papers calling him now?"

"You know the legend about the imp that could spin gold?"

"The one where the woman had to guess his name correctly?"

"Yes. That one. He's known as Rumplestiltskin to all news outlets."

"Any way we can stop them from spinning that?" The pun was not lost on her as she glanced towards Zelena who in turn shook her head in response.

He watched her from afar through his camera lens, zooming in on her radiant features with precision, lips parted as he watched her walk out of the hotel with confusion tugging at her features.

Part of him wondered if he could allow her to figure him out, to link everything to him and become popular for catching the spinner of gold – the image of standing behind a cell with her on the other side, trying to coax answers out of him caused his mouth to water.

Regina was only a profiler for the FBI and yet; he wanted her more than any victim he had laid his hands upon in the past twelve years. This small flicker of interest had slowly bloomed into more of an obsession.

What would it feel like to wrap my hands around that pretty little throat of yours; he thought, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.