Re-revised+MPD+Chapter+2

I finally got it the way I want it**.

Earlier that morning**

I got out of bed trying to suppress thoughts that would stop me from doing what I was about to do. All week I‘ve been preparing for this. I found the perfect victim to start my homicidal rampage with. It would be someone small and insignificant that no one would remember. His name was, well I don’t actually know his name. I laughed to myself, it’s unimaginable to think that I’ve been tracking my prey learning his every move all week, yet I don’t even know his name.

“Well what’s the __difference tonight__ I have control and it’s going to be brutal.” I said aloud As I started to walk out the door I stopped.

“Oh, I almost forgot to write the letter.” I chuckled

I sat down at the small rectangular kitchen table, only fit for two, and began to write

//Dear Detective Davis,//

//Before I begin I would like to convey a warning to you. It’s in your best interest to never tell anyone about this letter. See some people might consider this letter a conflict of interest, and you know what that would mean. You’d get kicked off your case. By the way this isn’t a threat it’s just reassurance.//

//So Davis now that we got that over with you’re probably sitting in your 1977 Plymouth Fury waiting for it to warm up. I know you love that car it was your father’s, right. Of course I’m right I mean I know you almost as well as you know yourself. Actually I think I know you better then you know yourself, in fact I’m positive of that.//

//Well I presume that your wondering what else I know about you. Well I know that you went to __collage__ for five years and studied Criminal Psychology, and Behaviorism. I also know that you were a cop for two years and you hated it because you weren’t like the rest of the cops on the force. You didn’t take the job to get paid for breaking people’s jaws with a nightstick. You took the job so you could grow and flourish becoming what you are today. You also have a small one bedroom apartment where you spend most of your nights lying in bed staring at the ceiling profoundly reflecting on your life.//

//That’s right Davis I know more about of you then you. Good luck finding me, and don’t worry not everyone solves their first case.//

I folded the letter and addressed it to Jason Davis

“Now it’s time for the real fun to start.” I laughed as I got into my car and drove away


 * Back at the warehouse**
 * Present**

I sat in my car and read the letter that was addressed to me. When I was finished I went back and reread it again. I thought that maybe I was imagining this that I was really back in my apartment asleep in bed. After taking everything in and digesting it like Thanksgiving dinner. I drove back to my apartment hoping to something to prove the existence of this homicidal maniac.

When I reached my apartment I unlocked the door to the building, and began to climb the three flights of steps to get to my apartment. As I fumbled for my keys in the dark hallway I heard someone or something rustling through my room. I released my .38 snub from its constricting shoulder holster, and prepared to open the door. I tightly griped my pistol and put my key into the lock. I slowly unlocked the door; trying to muffle the clicking sounds the lock made.

Apparently my attempt to muffle the sound of the lock failed because when I opened the door I was met by a bone shattering punch. I fell to the ground, landing on my stomach. My .38 snub slid out of my grasp, across the floor, and just under the refrigerator. I rolled to my back trying to see who it was that had sucker punched me. Surprisingly he was a short man about //5'6" to 5'7".// It was hard to tell since I was on the floor, cloudy eyed. He wore all black, including a black ski ask.

He stood at my feet looking down at me. There was confusion in his eyes. I used this confusion to my advantage. I kicked out his legs, and he fell back and hit his head on the wall behind him with a loud thud. I tried to stand up; pushing every physical limitation I ever had to their breaking point. My will was strong, but my body couldn’t handle it. I kept pushing, but it was useless there was no way I was going to be able to stand up. I got to my hands and knees and slowly began to crawl to the refrigerator. I grasped the .38 snub in my hand bringing an all together sense of serenity. The intruder noticed this and scurried over to the fire escape. Gun in hand I braced myself upon the refrigerator and began to standup. Slowly lessening the amount of pressure on the fridge I staggered toward him, gun aimed at his head, and said to him.

“Stop. Turn around, and I won’t blow your brains out all over my room.”

He looked over his shoulder and then continued to pry at the window. I hobbled up behind him and placed the cold steel cylinder of my .38 to the back of his head.

“Stop now. before I paint the walls in your blood.” I commanded

The smell of urine filled the room as the man soiled himself. He spun around tears filled his eyes and he fell to his knees with his face in his hands weeping uncontrollably. I spun the gun on my index finger like a cowboy in an old western movie. Now with the barrel of the gun in my hand I lifted the .38 high into the air and sent the butt of the gun on a straight course for the back of his head.

He fell forward on to the ground in front of my feet I handcuffed him to the radiator, and awaited his return from unconsciousness.

=COMMENTS:=

Yep. That's def. the one I'd go with! Keep it going... next chapter, please. :) ~Mr. S.