Seven

Sunday

“Oh, you know I can't stop now.” Veronica started to cry softly on the ground. “I don't understand you people. You get these amazing job and make a lot of money and sometime even have amazing husbands or families...” she trailed off a minute before getting back to her point. “But you ruin your lives with alcohol and drugs. Why? Why do you have to be numb to live this life?” Seven remembered a time when Annabelle would do anything to be numb- in that clinic bed, bribing the attendants for more drugs.

Veronica didn't reply. She didn't really expect her to anyways, she just much preferred to think out loud. Seven turned to the drawers of the kitchen to find something sharp.

* * * * * *

Detective Valery stood at the window of his office, looking out at the hallways and the people rushing by as if their lives depended on getting from one side of the building to the other in the minimum amount of time. He had a Styrofoam cup of water in one hand and his other sat comfortably in his pocket. His phone hadn't rung or vibrated since noon and it was almost seven, meaning it'd been a quiet day in Los Angeles. He wanted to go home to his wife, probably eat the dinner she made after arriving home from work, and maybe spend the night as they often did.

“Valery.” It was Cho, using his 'We have a problem' voice. Valery hadn't even noticed that his partner answered the phone, but now Cho held it up to his own ear as he put on his jacket. It was a case, of course, he could see it in Cho's eyes. Valery put down the Styrofoam cup of water along with the idea of getting home on time to see his wife and pushed his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. Before Cho was off the phone, the two detectives were in a car driving in the direction of sirens.

The two of them pulled up to a nice bungalow near the ocean, there were many reporters and neighbours out of their houses, trying to catch a glimpse of anything they could find. The sun was set as they climbed out of the car, getting ambushed with questions from the reporters. They pushed through without saying a word passed the police line and continued to the house. Valery wondered what they would find today, and if it was really worth all the Press.

With cameras flashing behind them in the background, probably only getting photos of the men's backs, the detectives climbing the bungalow steps to the door and walked through. The home was rather plain to begin with, nothing you would think to see on such a street as it was on. The houses on this street were those of directors and actors, Valery was rather suspicious of the lack of things that would usually be cluttered around these houses.

There was a group of officers standing at the doorway of the kitchen with their back to it, looking towards the detective with rather stark pale faces. “What's wrong, boys?” Cho asked, being his joking self. “Something scary beyond that door?” Valery gave a little smirk, assuming that the officers would make a sort of snide remark back. But, they didn't. Oddly enough, they only moved to the side to let them through, keeping their nervous or disturbed expressions plastered to their faces. Valery lead the way, a tad uncomfortable due to their odd nature.

Upon making it through the door way, the first thing Valery's eyes fell on was a bloody wall. At first he thought there were random streaks on the kitchen walls, but they actually formed into words. It took his a second to piece it together, but the words said one of two things. 'PRIDE' and 'ONE'. The words were written in such distorted ways that the person who wrote them must of been completely out of their mind.

Cho was the first of the two to see the body, which lay in the middle of the floor. Their first glimpse of it was half covered by forensics collecting samples, so all they could see to start was the nude body of a female. Her legs were cut up, by the depth it seemed out of anger almost. The next detail they found was her stomach area, which was somehow bloated. There was a small incision line forming a C around her stomach where a person had cut open and stuffed something in side of. Then, they'd sewn it back up so there was barely a noticeable line.