Allen Payne walked down to the 5th precinct of Shadowlake Police Department. As he walked out of the elevator, and Milo rushed up to him and spoke with a hurried tone, "Sir, you need to see this. The guys at autopsy found something." Allen fixed his cobalt blue eyes on Milo, and said, "What did they find?" Knowing that he had piqued the sergeant's interest, Milo gestured the way to the lab.
And at that moment when Allen walked into the lab, Dante put on his hood and walked down the street, planning to get away from his stuffy apartment, and of course, mentally prepare for his next murder. As he walked down the street, he found himself unconsciously humming "Highway to Hell" and heard himself slightly chuckling as he realized it. He eventually stopped at a pharmacy, looking for syringes, he smiled. Only this time, it was a calm, composed and easy smile compared to his usual manic, evil smile.
Milo and Payne walked into the morgue,where they were greeted by pathologist Samuel Poole. "Ah, Sergeant Payne. It's been some time since I last saw you, anything interesting happened?" Payne looked at Samuel and replied his question-with a question. "What do you have for me, Poole?" "Straight to business, I like that." smiled Samuel. Payne glanced at Freddie's body momentarily before gazing back at Sam, who was retrieving the documents."Well, all I can say now is that the killer's careful, didn't leave behind much physical evidence. But there is this." Said Poole as he held up a tray of evidence. "What's that?" Asked Payne. "THAT, my friend, is fingerprint not from our victim here. I believe it is from the killer.Now, I'm convinced that he's careful, but not THAT careful." "Great, run it through the database, see if you find anything." Ordered Payne. "Right on it," Replied Poole as he walked away."
Dante returned from his apartment, with his next murder in mind. He glanced at his map, showing circled houses he randomly chose, just for fun. He turned his sight to his wall, which is displaying a gallery of masks. He thought about which mask to wear and took his hockey mask from the previous murder, still stained with blood. He thought it'd be nice to leave clues about who he was going to be next so the police could get to him more quickly. After all, it was all about the fun, he thought.
"Benji! We're going to be late for the club meeting! Come on!" Yelled Harry through the phone. "Alright, you go first, I'm gonna be late." replied Benjamin "Benji" Gibson as he tried to put on his T-Shirt while talking on the phone. "Alright, whatever, see you at the club, I'll go first." answered Harry as he closed the conversation. Benjamin, who was still trying to put on his shirt as he ate his sandwich, heard a sudden creak. "I really need to change that old door." He muttered to himself. "Or maybe you need to change your lock, mister." Whispered Dante, his syringe pressed against Benjamin's neck. "Woah! Put that thing down, man! What do you want from me? I...I'm not as rich as that guy across the street! I'm just a store clerk dude! Go rob him instead of me, man!" Benji exclaimed. Dante whispered, but louder this time, "You know what? I don't want your money. I'm not here for the greens, I'm here for the blood. All I want, is you dead, 'cause it's fun. You think you can cooperate with me, man?" Benjamin looked shocked. "No way! I ain't giving my life away just 'cause some psychopath wants blood, go kill someone else!" "You see, the choice of whether you get to live or not is made by you, but me. So I say...... you die." And then he plunged the syringe into Benjamin's neck, inject a syringe full of air into his neck. Benjamin dropped to floor, and started to spasm. After a few moments of pain, he died. Dante looked at the messy apartment, and saw a perfect white wall and took out his dagger and brush, using his victim's blood to write on the wall.
And at that moment when Allen walked into the lab, Dante put on his hood and walked down the street, planning to get away from his stuffy apartment, and of course, mentally prepare for his next murder. As he walked down the street, he found himself unconsciously humming "Highway to Hell" and heard himself slightly chuckling as he realized it. He eventually stopped at a pharmacy, looking for syringes, he smiled. Only this time, it was a calm, composed and easy smile compared to his usual manic, evil smile.
Milo and Payne walked into the morgue,where they were greeted by pathologist Samuel Poole. "Ah, Sergeant Payne. It's been some time since I last saw you, anything interesting happened?" Payne looked at Samuel and replied his question-with a question. "What do you have for me, Poole?" "Straight to business, I like that." smiled Samuel. Payne glanced at Freddie's body momentarily before gazing back at Sam, who was retrieving the documents."Well, all I can say now is that the killer's careful, didn't leave behind much physical evidence. But there is this." Said Poole as he held up a tray of evidence. "What's that?" Asked Payne. "THAT, my friend, is fingerprint not from our victim here. I believe it is from the killer.Now, I'm convinced that he's careful, but not THAT careful." "Great, run it through the database, see if you find anything." Ordered Payne. "Right on it," Replied Poole as he walked away."
Dante returned from his apartment, with his next murder in mind. He glanced at his map, showing circled houses he randomly chose, just for fun. He turned his sight to his wall, which is displaying a gallery of masks. He thought about which mask to wear and took his hockey mask from the previous murder, still stained with blood. He thought it'd be nice to leave clues about who he was going to be next so the police could get to him more quickly. After all, it was all about the fun, he thought.
"Benji! We're going to be late for the club meeting! Come on!" Yelled Harry through the phone. "Alright, you go first, I'm gonna be late." replied Benjamin "Benji" Gibson as he tried to put on his T-Shirt while talking on the phone. "Alright, whatever, see you at the club, I'll go first." answered Harry as he closed the conversation. Benjamin, who was still trying to put on his shirt as he ate his sandwich, heard a sudden creak. "I really need to change that old door." He muttered to himself. "Or maybe you need to change your lock, mister." Whispered Dante, his syringe pressed against Benjamin's neck. "Woah! Put that thing down, man! What do you want from me? I...I'm not as rich as that guy across the street! I'm just a store clerk dude! Go rob him instead of me, man!" Benji exclaimed. Dante whispered, but louder this time, "You know what? I don't want your money. I'm not here for the greens, I'm here for the blood. All I want, is you dead, 'cause it's fun. You think you can cooperate with me, man?" Benjamin looked shocked. "No way! I ain't giving my life away just 'cause some psychopath wants blood, go kill someone else!" "You see, the choice of whether you get to live or not is made by you, but me. So I say...... you die." And then he plunged the syringe into Benjamin's neck, inject a syringe full of air into his neck. Benjamin dropped to floor, and started to spasm. After a few moments of pain, he died. Dante looked at the messy apartment, and saw a perfect white wall and took out his dagger and brush, using his victim's blood to write on the wall.
Hello there, detective. Here's a tip: Gunfire plot on 32 K street.
I'll kill again.
~Everyman
Pocketing his brush and dagger, he walked out of the apartment and took off his mask and started his long walk home. And then he went to a phone booth and dialed 911, "Hello? I'd like to report a murder on 4th street, a man in his middle twenties has been murdered." He said calmly. The person on the other end asked, "4th street? where on 4th street?" "Hollowcreeks apartment, 5th floor, second room to the right of the elevator. And yes, I killed him." And then he hanged up.
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