Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

PROMPT: "I'll be home for Christmas."

I counted my breathing, steadying my hand as I raised my gun. "This is the police! Open up!" The voice down the megaphone rang out through the sleepy town of Forks. This would go down in history. Our little town plagued by violence and danger. It was unheard of. This was the case of a lifetime. And I'd just managed to solve the fucking thing. You'd have thought that the first emotion would have been happiness or joy. Instead, it was anger. I was pissed that I'd allowed this motherfucker to pull the wool over my eyes for so long. Never again. Never again would I be blinded like this. Then it was fear. Because what if I'd got this wrong? What if I'd fucked up again? I'd made promises. Promises I intended to keep. They always tell you not to make promises, not to the families. Because you can't always keep them. But I would keep this one. I had to.

My deputy looked at me, and I nodded.

"You have ten seconds to come out before we come in!"

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Of course, he wouldn't come out. He was too much of a coward.

I gave my deputy another nod, and we began to move forward. I was leading. I wanted to make sure that no one else got hurt. He'd already killed three women. No more would die. Not tonight.

The door swung open with ease, and we entered the dark house. It was disgusting. Bottles of beer and mouldy food laid about, rats crawling over the wrappers, flies buzzing around. I turned my torch on, trying not to gag at the smell. Who would've thought that this was waiting for us inside? Not me. No. Royce King was meant to be well respected within the community. His father was a self-made billionaire, a pioneer in the field of green energy. Forks ran on purely renewable sources because of them. But behind his demeanour. Behind his hardworking attitude and the charming facade was a monster. A monster I had allowed into this community. A monster I had befriended. I had let him into my life, and the consequences had been disastrous. He'd been to my house, sat at my dinner table, played dolls with my fucking daughter.

We made our way through the house, looking and listening, waiting. The longer the time went on, the more panicked I became.

"McCarthy!" A voice called.

I turned around to find that my deputy had found a door with several bolts across it.

"Open it," I commanded, my voice deep, body tense. I was a walking ball of adrenaline, praying like hell we weren't too late.

The bolts slide across the door quickly, obnoxiously loud in the otherwise quiet house. It set my teeth on edge, had my heart skipping a beat, and my eyes twitching. I was so angry at myself. So angry that we were here. So angry that I had been stupid and foolish. I didn't deserve to be a cop. I didn't deserve the moniker of protector. I had failed everyone. Including those closest to me.

Darkness greeted us. Pulling out my torch, I headed through the doorway, steps leading to somewhere unknown. Cautiously, I went down them, desperate to take them two at a time, but I needed to be sensible. Keep my head clear. If I got shot, that wouldn't help anyone.

I heard the familiar footsteps of my deputy behind me, but I was focused on the basement we were entering.

My heart was beating so loudly I could hear it in my ears. My mouth was dry, and my body barely managed to conceal the shakiness I felt. I didn't know what we would find. I didn't know if he'd killed them. I didn't know if he was down here, torturing one of them now. Maybe he had killed them and then killed himself? He wouldn't want to face justice. He wouldn't want to be held accountable for his actions. There were so many unknowns, and I didn't like that.

Stepping down the last step, I turned the corner, and suddenly everything stopped.

They were here. The four missing women of Forks. They were here. They were caged like animals, dirty clothes adorning their bodies and looking thin and frail. But they were alive. They were alive, and they were here. And I could've cried. Because it meant I had found them. It meant they were safe.

Everything began moving again; voices were shouting, a bolt cutter was called for, and I moved towards the first cage, my eyes locked on the woman in the corner. I couldn't look away. Her cell was opened first, and I moved towards her and then cradled her tiny body in my arms. She sobbed, dirty hands clutching my shirt, tears staining the cotton as I buried my head in her hair. I had done it. I had kept my promise to my daughter. My wife would be coming home for Christmas.

I'm not sure how I feel about this particular prompt… I don't think it's my best work.