Chapter 3: First Kill

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Chapter 3: First Kill

I settled into my usual spot near the front of the briefing room, back erect and fingers steepled in a posture of casual attentiveness. Awaiting Lieutenant Kane to commence the weekly rundown of active cases and person of interest profiles currently commanding our division's attention.

My gaze flickered across the clusters of familiar faces – seasoned detectives and forensics staffers alike awaiting our esteemed superior's arrival with hushed conversations. Snitches of banter and dark humor typical for the grim nature of our work drifted through the stale air like eddies of smoke.

Amidst the din, Hayler appeared the very paragon of composure and professionalism. Back ramrod straight, expression neutral, not a single tarnished detail evident upon her prim appearance. A consummate career officer by all outward indications.

Only she knew the obscene duality roiling beneath the flawless facade like a virulent oil slick waiting to breach the surface. Only Hayler understood the maelstrom of contradictions warring within her psyche at any given moment. 

The struggle to enfold within Sergeant Lewis' persona and compartmentalize her dark half...while the Redeemer's merciless crusade gathered relentless momentum, accruing body counts like battle trophies through the filter of a twisted moral absolutism.

Lost in this whirlpool of overlapping identities, Hayler shook free from her distracted reverie just as Lieutenant Kane entered the room. Tall and square-shouldered with his signature steel gray flattop, the senior detective projected an aura of no-nonsense command and leadership.

He wasted no time with pleasantries, instead launching directly into a rundown on the latest spree of subway muggings stretching across three of the city's five boroughs. Flashing up mug shots and camera stills of potential suspects from recent similar crimes.

"Forensics picked up trace DNA at the DeKalb Station to corroborate with this latest vic's account. Couple of skin tags lodged under the nails when he fought back against the robbers trying to grab his wallet. So our Jane is running them through the databases as we speak to check for potential matches."

I nodded in acknowledgement, meeting Kane's hard eyes for a split second before he shifted the briefing over to a new slew of cases centered around the fresh homicides of two underaged sex workers over the past fortnight.

"Evidence is still being processed but preliminaries show different weaponry based on the lacerations and blood spatter signatures per crime scene. So we've got multiple perps operating, but the vics show signs of repeated torture over several days before the killings."

My interest piqued despite willing my consciousness to remain detached. Too late to staunch the nauseating premonition of where this line of investigation eventually would lead. Details filtered through my senses in peripherals.

Two lifeless bodies – one bearing the unmistakable hallmarks of a hunting knife slicing through her delicate throat while bound and helpless. The other marked by deep muscle gouges, eviscerated organs spilling onto bare mattress springs.

I shifted in my seat, jaw tightening as the concrete visuals unfolded behind my eyes. Reconstructing the brutal final moments of life for these degraded souls, savoring every infinitesimal clue in morbid detail I committed to flawless memory for future reference.

Human detritus such as the lowlifes doubtlessly behind such sadistic carnage against the most vulnerable of victims doubtlessly ticked all the boxes on my internal checklist warranting sanction. The righteous, unforgiving wrath of cosmic force majeure to cut these cancers from the physical world entirely.

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