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Insatiable love never dies.
{Nude Era}
"Three more deaths have been recorded this past week." Fatigue worked it's way into the voice of a wary man as he read the online report out loud for his girlfriend to hear, who laid comfortably on the other side of their Ikea couch with a hardback copy of The Scarlet Letter. Her scrolling eyes shot from the riveting scene of Arthur Dimmesdale having his first encounter with his forbidden daughter Pearl, to her partner.
"Are you serious?" Olivia's worried question was accented by the high arch of her sable brows, the quip nod of her head allowing gravity to pull her silver rimmed glasses down the bridge of her nose a good centimeter.
He sighed heavily. "Yep. Each death was like the last four." His finger rolled along the slick surface of his Mac computer's mouse as he provided more information. "They were all women, found stark naked in various areas of Central Park with unidentified marks all over their bodies."
Olivia could feel the bile nearly rise up to the beginnings of her throat at the mere imagery of disfigured bodies, bloody and maimed. For the past few weeks, random pedestrians have winded up lifeless, stripped of any clothes or personal belongings, flesh torn or marked with peculiar scars, and carelessly strewn among the many places of beloved Central Park; almost as if the person who was behind all of it wanted people to see a piece of their twisted vision personified. Some of the bodies were so badly mutilated that the NYPD claimed their identities were unrecognizable.
As far as Olivia knew, this put everyone in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, where she lived, in a panic. The scariest part to her about the entire situation was that the killer seemed to only target women who visited New York's national park on a daily. And she was one of those who enjoyed a nice jog through Central every now and then.
Olivia's boyfriend, Cory, was also one of the police detectives sent from the NYPD working on the case. To say that it stressed him out, would be an understatement.
"This is ridiculous." With a flick of her wrist as crass as her tone, her book flew unto the grey cushion beside her. Taking off her bifocals, she leaned over and rested them on the glass coffee table in front of her. "I mean, who's the sicko doing all of this?"
"I don't know. It's been three weeks, and we still have no leads." Cory's head slacked against the top of the sofa and he dragged his hands down his face. "We've been trying to keep things under wraps, but the media has been ruthless. They want answers for what's going on, but we don't have answers to give."
He transported his light Mac off his lap to the side of him as Olivia made her way towards where he sat. "I figured NYPD is probably going to have to shutdown Central Park until we find out what's going on with all these murders."
