Serialized || HS

Forced

Forced Vacation. Forced?! How am I supposed to relax on a beach somewhere sipping  pina coladas, when I know scum of the Earth is walking around in every part of this continental United States. 

Forced! Because I chose to do my job, and do it well. Because I had to work harder than all the men in this damn office for the singular reason of I had to wear a bra. Ok, maybe not the singular reason but I knew it was one of the main reasons I worked harder than everyone else. 

I had a pile of cases I needed to go through and help make a profile for. Being an agent for the FBI Behavioural Analysis Unit, was not a place that I would say was a dream place to work. But I'm good at what I do. I can watch someone, anyone, and read them like most people read a book. I can read a case file, looking through the gruesome crime scene photos, or actually step into the crime scene and figure out the why and hows of a killer. 

And now they were trying to take me away from it. Like I stated several times, I am good at what I do. Scary good. I could be a prolific serial killer if I chose to go to the dark side, but my moral compass points north, and I'm set on catching the bastards who torture and kill innocent people. 

"So where are you planning to go on vacation," Dan leaned on the edge of my desk. Dan was my main man in our team. I guess my partner in, solving, crime. He was smart, resourceful, and even in the darkest of times he was able to keep us grounded and create normalcy. 

But right now I wasn't interested in his wit. 

"Go to hell Dan," I closed a few of the files and tossed them in the out going box on my desk. 

"Oh come on. Don't be like that. You know I'm only joking," he nudged my shoulder. If it were anyone else his hand would have been broken, his arm would have been around his back, and he would be begging for mercy. 

"I don't plan to do anything. Except maybe bring some case files home and get them processed sneakily through my best friend in this place," I gave him a small wink. 

"Yeah right," he laughed loudly for the whole floor to hear. I smirked as I closed out all the files on my computer and then reached under my desk to pull out all the chords. I knew when to take precautions. Plus I didn't need Dan to change my background to puppies and kittens again. 

"You need to take the break. I hear Keeping up with the Kardashians is a riot. Whether that's a good or bad thing, that's for my thirteen year old to decide." 

"She is thirteen already? Man time flies," I leaned back in my chair. Dan was young and like a lot of us, made a few mistakes, but one of his best was his daughter Tarah. She was able to make him smile, and after the death of his wife, he needed that. 

"It flies a little bit slower when you get the hell out of this office for more than the eight hours of recommended sleep," he joked. 

"You think I actually get eight hours?" I scoffed. 

"Of course not. That's what normal people do," he pushed off my desk and gave one more bit of his always useful advice, "Relax Mabelle. Seriously." 

He walked away from my desk and I grabbed my bags and walked to the elevator. When I climbed out on the busy D.C. streets I huffed under my breath, "Such bullshit."

--

Walking into my apartment, most would swear it was a crack den and not that of an FBI agent. 

Papers thrown everywhere and a small web of push pins and string put on my wall that I would build up on the difficult cases. A sink full of dirty dishes, pretty sure they had been there all week, the fridge was full of old take out boxes, that left a weird kinda smell if I leave it open too long. 

My living room wasn't much better. The papers lead into the room where a TV from the 90's sat on an old crate. I never watch it. My couch is a hand me down from my parents. 

Yes, shockingly my parents are still alive. There was no tragic trigger that made me seek out revenge or save everyone I could. But I wouldn't say my parents were model citizens. 

Dad ditched my mom and I when I was about ten and my mom never really recovered. I'm pretty sure it was because of the fact my mom was paranoid. She had spats of paranoia while he was living with us but after he left the bouts never seemed to end. It took her over, consumed her like a rabid dog. 

Her episodes were some of the scariest shit I had witnessed, and I have seen peoples faces peeled off and the skin used as masks. 

At 18 I had the legal right to act in her care and I had her put in an institution. I'm not proud of that fact but I knew it had to be done. It would keep her safe. 

But back to the point. I was now on vacation, in an apartment that had seen better days. 

What do normal people do on vacation?

They travel. 

Somewhere remote?

No. I can't do remote. If the bureau needs me I need to be able to be contacted. 

A new city?

I've been all around the U.S.

Ok. So a foreign city. 

One that speaks English fluently. 

Grabbing my laptop off the table I walked to the couch and typed in the specifics. 

London, England was the first place in the list. Historic city, with historic sites, spoke English, not known for the serial killer, and tons of things that could try and distract me from the fact I was going to hate being there. And since my business forced me to go I'm sure they wouldn't mind me putting it on the business's dime.

"Hmm, London could be interesting. Home of Jack the Ripper," I spoke to the empty room. Yeah, I think I might like murder too much for my own liking. 

And as I typed in all my false information, given to me by the FBI, we always take precautions, and using the special black credit card, I booked my flights and a cheap hotel near all the main headquarters of their equivalent to the FBI. 

Two weeks. In London. On 'vacation'.

"Let the fun begin." 

And so the story begins! I am so excited to bring back my original Fan Fiction muse Harry Styles! 

Also this chapter is dedicated to one of my two writer muses Alytav9. She made the cover on the side of this chapter and she also writes Destined For Styles which I wait on updates like Hilary Duff waited for rain in that drought in A Cinderella Story. 

This is one of my first  first person POV stories so I am trying to get used to it, please bare with me.