Revised+MPD+Chapter+2

Chapter 2


 * 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 to myself

//Dear Detective Davis,//

//Before I begin I would like to set forth a warning to you. It’s in your best interest to never tell anyone about this letter. See some people would find it a little fishy that the lead detective on the case may in some way know the killer. 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 no one 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 to North 32nd Street.


 * 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 got home I unlocked the door to the apartment building, and went upstairs. 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 unlocked the door slowly; trying to muffle the clicking sound 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, and landed on my stomach. My .38 snub slid out of my hand, across the floor, and just under the fridge. I rolled to my back trying to see who It was that had sucker punched me. Unfortunately he was wearing a ski mask.

He stood at my feet looking down at me. There was confusion in his eyes. I used his confusion as an opportunity to take him down. I kicked out his legs, and he fell back and hit his head on the wall behind him. I tried to stand up but my mind was still cloudy from the punch so I fell to the floor once again. I got to my knees and started crawling toward the fridge. The intruder noticed me slowly geting closer to my gun so he got up and scurried over to the fire escape. I got my gun and once again tried to get to my feet. 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.” I commanded

The smell of urine filled the room as the man soiled himself. He spun around and widely grabbed at my gun hoping to catch me off guard. His attempts were ineffective. I tensed up on the trigger, but didn’t pull it. Instead I spun the gun on my index finger like a cowboy in an old western movie, and hammered his head with the butt of my gun.

He fell to the floor with a loud thudding sound like that of a large rock being thrown into a pond. I handcuffed him to the radiator, and awaited his return from unconsciousness.