A Demon of Death Walkign on Campus

Chapter 1
2/14/2010
Today’s findings were very satisfying. She was so delicious and very sweet. Too bad she couldn’t stay for long. I wanted to enjoy her more but she is in a better place now. Her arms were as smooth as can be. Her legs were plump and soft to the touch. Her breasts were watery. Her eyes were to die for but her lips made up for it. I didn’t want it to end like it did but I can’t complain. I feel my queen getting nearer. She is the key to my salvation and the only person that will complete me. Or at least I hope so   
*
2/14/2010
After the events of three years ago I can never trust him again with my safety, my love, or my life. He put a hostages life in danger and didn’t flinch when she was shot nor did he flinch when the kidnapper shot him self when he laughed in our faces. Those cold eyes stared down at the kidnapper. I will never forget those eyes. Inside I feel like he has no feelings for anyone until the job is done. I don’t think I can trust him again. Will he do it again I don’t think he could or at least I hope so.
*
2/14/2010
Its still a mystery why people resort to murder. Is it because of greed or is it because of some type of revenge. Well whatever it is its wrong. The government justifies it as getting dangerous people away from the innocent. All in all, the person that will never see the light of day again can’t justify anything. There is no moral reason for murder, just logic. At least I hope so.
*
2/14/2010
School starts soon. I hope I can impress the teacher in college like I did in high school. I hope I make Abby proud and not get pregnant. I really want her to get over what happen. My advisor signed me up for some history of music or something like that. She said that I had to get an elective to be full time. I get this strange feeling sometime like as if someone was watching me. Is it true? If it is then Abby will kill him, or at least I hope so…
*
“This traffic is horrible this morning,” said Detective Samuel Simpson as he got on the off ramp to exit highway seventy five.
It was a usual morning in downtown Dallas. The traffic was moving at a steady pace as everyone driving was fighting to get to work or school on time. Detective Simpson patiently sipped his coffee and waited for the next opportunity to get into a clear lane even though it meant cutting someone off. But he didn’t have to because the light changed up ahead. He moved on in silence. He looked at the side walk and saw a group of college students walking and laughing. The thought of rolling down his window and telling them that they were going the wrong way towards the university but thought better of it. He reached the Dallas Convention Center parking lot and turned into it. He found a parking spot near an exit, got out of his car and smoked a cigarette. This to him was a bad omen because he has not smoked in three years. He shook his head violently as he thought about what happen three years ago. Then he climbed into his car and drove straight to the Dallas Police Department. Once inside he sat down at his desk and read this morning’s newspaper. He put his feet up and started to relax. Suddenly his feet were violently pushed off of the desk. He looked over the top of the newspaper and saw the barrel of a nine millimeter glock pointing at him. He smiled when he saw who was holding the gun.
“Good morning Abby,” said Detective Simpson.
“It would be better if I didn’t have to do this paper work,” said Detective Brittany Abigail Love.
She put her gun back into her holster and gave him a look of disapproval.
“What’s with the look,” said Detective Simpson.
“It’s nothing,” said Detective Love still giving him that look.
“Let me take you out for coffee so I can talk to you,” said Detective Simpson. 
“What’s there to talk about,” said Detective Love glaring at him suddenly.
“Just trust me,” said Detective Simpson.
“I will never trust you again,” said Detective Love turning away from him.
Detective Simpson looked at her body up and down then smiled.
“Fine we’ll just make this business,” said Detective Simpson getting up and putting his hands on her shoulder. “We’ll talk about our next case.”
“I can walk,” said Detective Love fiercely shaking her shoulders.
They walked through the police station not talking to each other. Detective Simpson tried to start a conversation by saying how nice the morning was but she ignored him. They got into his unmarked police car, which was a two thousand and nine Chevrolet corvette, and drove on. The car was dead silent. Detective Love looked out of the window and stared at the blue sky. Then realizing Detective Simpson was staring at her, she pulled her police notebook began to read her notes on a prior case.
“You know what happened three years ago shouldn’t affect our relationship,” said Detective Simpson.
“How dare you say that,” said Detective Love angrily. “It should have affected you more that it affected me. For starter it should have affected your cold unreasonable side.”
“But that’s how I get the job done,” said Detective Simpson reaching over and trying to grab her hand.
She withdrew her hand and slapped him hard. The car swerved violently and almost went into the ditch. Detective Simpson pulled the car over and looked at Detective Love.
“Now that was not necessary,” said Detective Simpson.
“I don’t care,” said Detective Love stingingly. “You should have never tried to touch me.”
“I was trying to get you to see my view point.”
“Obviously you failed miserably. I will never be able to see your view point.”
“But Abby, I was just…”
Suddenly a cold chill passed through the both of them. Detective Simpson looked around.
“You felt that,” said he.
“Sure did,” replied Detective Love. “I get the feeling this won’t be a boring day.”
“Good,” said Detective Simpson.
He drove on with a determined look on his face. Detective Love pulled her gun out, ready to shoot anyone. Ten minutes later they saw a car on the side of the road. They instantly knew something was wrong and pulled over. Cautiously, they slowly opened the door and got out of the car. A smell of foul play plagued the air around them. When they reached the car, they opened the door and were instantly swarmed by flies. Once the flies cleared away, Detective Love gasped at the horrid sight. There was a mutilated body of an adult female. Detective Simpson reached for his cell phone and called for the coroners, and the forensics team to come to their location. When they arrived, the team went to work. They identified the body as belonging to a missing college student named Erica Campbell, age 20. Once the forensics team finished gathering evidence, Detective Simpson looked around the car for clues. He accidentally bumped the body and forced something to poke out of her left breast. He looked closely and saw it was a tape recorder wrapped in plastic wrap. The moment he removed it, the tape played.
“To whoever finds this girl.”
Detective Simpsons eyes got big and instantly froze in fear. Detective Love noticed the look on his face and listened in.     
“This girl was not who I was looking for. It was a pity she had to end up like this. Her ecstasy was delicious and her ability to pleasure was at her peak. But something about her made me livid and she ended up as you see her now. In the end she was not the person I wanted to add to my collection. If you can, please give this girl a proper burial.”
Detective Love stared angrily at the tape wanting to mutilate the man who did this. Then she stared at Detective Simpsons scared expression on his face. She walked over to him.
“What’s wrong,” said she.
“I don’t know,” said Detective Simpson. “I don’t know why I froze up like that.”
She wanted to say something smart but thought better of it.
“You look scared,” said Detective Love.
“I shouldn’t be like this,” said Detective Simpson starting to shake a little “but I recognize that voice from somewhere.”
Detective Love gave him a compassionate look.
“From where,” said she.
“I don’t know,” said Detective Simpson “but I have a feeling it was someone from my past.”
“You look pretty shaken up. Maybe you need to sit down and talk about it.”
“I guess you’re right. Let’s go back to HQ and figure out what happened to this girl.”
They walked to their cars drove back to the Dallas Police Department.
*
In a car not too far from where interstate 20 and Highway 75 intersect, a man was driving his girlfriend to a cheap hotel. He was only twenty eight years old with inviting green eyes, brown dirty hair that spiked in certain places, and a face that could fool even the most skilled psychologist. He wore a black t-shirt, denim black jeans, and some black worn out tennis shoes. Beside him sat Veronica Rose. She was twenty-two years old, and a student at the nearby four year university. She had light brown eyes signify friendliness, long, fluent brown hair that twirled in her finger from time to time, and a body of a model. She looked at the man and smiled. He smiled back and put his hand on her leg. Instantly, she began to lean over to him and kiss him on the cheek and neck. The man softly pushed her away.
“Not yet my beautiful queen, not yet.”
She straightened up and looked out of the window sighing. The man concentrated on the road wondering how this was going to turn out. Finally they reached the cheap hotel. They could tell the hotel was run down because of the flickering sign, the closed pool sign hanging sideways on its rusted chain, and the horrible drainage systems around the hotel. They parked the car in the faded parking spot in front of room seven. Once the man was out of the car, Veronica was all over him, kissing his face and neck. The man returned the display of affection. His shirt and her blouse were already being taken off. The man caress Veronica’s back, butt, and legs slowly while she was caressing his abdomen and chest trying get him to lead her to the bed. Once they were inside of the hotel room they began to roughly take each other’s clothes off. Then the man pushed her playfully onto the bed.
“Close your eyes my sweet rose, I have a surprise for you.”
Veronica smiled and covered her eyes. Once he confirmed she could not see her, his facial expression changed. A minute ago he was very anxious to be with her, now he wore a facial expression that would scare Freddy and Jason into a coma. His eyes glowed with a hatred so deep for her. He looked into the drawer and found a handkerchief and a small bottle of anesthesia. He poured some of the liquid onto the handkerchief and looked at Veronica, who still had her hand over her eyes and was giggling to herself. With one swift motion he climbed on top of Veronica and covered her mouth and nose with the handkerchief. She fell asleep instantly thinking this was a nightmare. When she woke up, she instantly knew something was wrong.  Her wrist and her ankles felt sore. She looked at up towards the head rest and saw her wrists tightly cuffed to post. She struggled to get out of them but it only made them bleed. She tried to call for help but could not due to the gag in her mouth. She screamed but all that could be heard was a muffled moan. The man walked into the room holding a shiny nine inch blade that reflected the light on to her uncovered chest. She looked into the mans cold eyes wondering why he would do this to her. He looked into her desperate eyes and decided to speak.
“You brought this on yourself. I thought you were the one that would complete my collection. You presented yourself to me looking for a one night stand with me. You should have known better. As you already picked up, I do not enjoy sex nor do I get the satisfaction of giving it to a girl like you. Although you are beautiful, with curves that compliments your physique. Your bodily features would make men jump on you. I really do not care about that. I am looking for my queen, my crown, my finish to my master piece. You are not who I’m looking for. Pity, you did taste good.”
Veronica stared at the knife in horror as it came closer. Then the man raised it above his head and with one downward movement, he pierced her forehead. Veronica screamed in pain before she died. The man looked at her limp body and smiled at the crimson blood running down her face and hair. Then he removed the knife from her head and proceeded to mutilate her. Once he was satisfied with what he has done, he took a recorder and recorded a message. He put it into a plastic bag then cut a deep pouch into her left breast and inserted it. Then he walked out of the room and drove away.
*
Three days later Detective Simpson and Detective Love arrived at the hotel to a horrid sight. The body has decayed some from being exposed to air and heat.  Once the forensics team identified the body and collected evidence, Detective Simpson explored around the room. Detective Love kept her distance away from Detective Simpson as she searched for clues to that could tell them what happened. One of the coroners told the detectives about a recorder they found in her breast. They went over to him, took the recorder, and played it.
“To whoever finds this girl…”
Detective Simpson tensed up again. Detective Love noticed this and held his hand out of sight of the other policemen. His hand was shaking uncontrollably and grasped tighter when he felt her warm hand.
“This girl seemed to not be who I am looking for either. I seem to have bad luck when comes to finding the one who completes me. As you can see all I did to her was cut her up and tried to make it as clean as possible for you to clean up. If it pleases you send this girl to her parents so they could bury this girl where she belongs. I am looking for a queen and not some dirty whore that wants nothing but pleasure from a man…”
Detective Love became infuriated and went to punch the wall but noticed Detective Simpson still squeezing his hand. He no longer wore a look of shock. Now he was wearing an obvious look of horror that everyone noticed.
“Boss, what’s wrong,” asked one of the police officers.
“It’s nothing,” said Detective Simpson playing it off. “My stomach is hurting today. Remember I ate those old bagels.”
“Yeah,” said the officer agreeing with him. “I’ll see you back at the office.”
On the way back to the Dallas Police Department, Detective Love looked at Detective Simpson wanting to comfort him.
“So is that voice coming back to you,” said she.
“No,” said Detective love quietly.
The car was silent for five minutes.
“So are you scared of this person?”
“What do you think,” said Detective Simpson forcefully. “I’m terrified out of my mind and the scary part about that is I think this person grew up around me.”
Detective Love looked at him and stroked his hair gently.
“We will find this man and put him where he belongs,” said Detective Love smiling at him.
Detective looked at her with disbelief and smiled back at her.   
*
Later on that day, Detective Love drove home. She wore a distracted look on her face and did not yell a driver when they cut her off. Finally she reached the apartment complexes she lived at. She parked in spot sixteen and sighed. She got out of her car and took a deep breath. Then she walked up the stairs trying not to trip on the uneven steps. When she reached her front door, she paused. She thought about Detective Simpson and how they were going to solve this case. She opened the door and goes inside. Her younger sister Megan Venus and some college boy were on the couch kissing each other. They stopped immediately when they saw Detective Love. They waved at her hoping she wasn’t going to yell at them. Detective Love walked past them as if she did not see them. Megan knew something was wrong and told the boy to go home. When he left, Megan walked into Detective Loves office, which is their third bedroom.
“Do you want to talk about it,” said Megan softly.
“No I do not,” said Detective Love. “I’d rather you didn’t know.”
Megan began to massage Detective Love’s shoulders.
“Maybe you would feel better if you talked about it,” said Megan.
“I won’t,” said Detective Love softly pushing her hands away “and you definitely won’t feel good about this either.”
“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
Detective Love looked at her wondering if it was a good idea to tell her. After five minutes of complete silence, she decided to tell her.
“Do you remember the college that disappeared from the college in Fort Worth?”
“I do.”
“Well we found her a couple days ago dead in her car.”
Megan gasped. Detective Love looked at a picture of her foster father, who until five years ago was with the Dallas Police Department. Immortalized in Detective Love’s mind as one of the most influential men in her life, he served thirty-five years as a police captain before dying on the job. The cause of his death was a fatal gunshot to the leg. He never made it out of ICU but his last words to her was “follow your instincts and you’ll never go wrong”. She gripped the picture and closed her eyes wanting him to come and solve this. Megan wrapped her arms around Detective Love and looked at the picture.
“I miss him a lot,” said Megan. “He always knew what to do.”
“Which reminds me,” said Detective Love “I want you to be careful. There is a serial killer on the loose and it could be anyone.”
“Don’t worry about me,” said Megan. “He won’t…”
“I mean it,” said Detective Love forcefully. “Don’t take this lightly. He might get you and I don’t know what I would do if he got you.”
Megan looked at her hardened worried expression and hugged her one more time.
“I’ll be more careful,” said she.
Detective Love turned to her and smiled but this smile seemed masked by the stress that was put on by this case.
“That’s a good girl,” said Detective Love. “Oh and one more thing. Don’t ever bring a boy like that into my house like that unless I’m here, do you understand.”
Megan looked at her knowing that the chance of her getting out of trouble was gone. Megan nodded her head and kissed Detective Love in the forehead before the leaving the office. While the room was silent with the wind gently blowing across the window, Detective Love tried to picture what this man looked like. She imagined a horrible ugly man, with eyes that were colder than Antarctica in its winter months, skin that was extremely pale and scaly, and was carrying a bloody knife that he never cleans. She shook those thoughts out of her head as she remembered that a serial killer could look like anybody. She went to the master bathroom, stripped to her underwear, and examined herself. At twenty five years old, she was five feet eight inches tall, had blue eyes, black hair that went down to her shoulders and a slender body that was very well proportioned and had most of the male employees at the station drooling over her. She was in the best physical shape in her life with the ability to run a mile in under eight minutes, the ability to run faster than most people at the station, and was a ninth degree black belt in karate and judo. However she did not see that in the mirror. Instead she saw a beat up, stressful woman that needed a vacation from all this but also wanted to murder this serial killer. She could tell that this was going to be a long and stressful case and took two deep breaths before taking her underwear off and getting into the shower. She turned on the water and let the water run down her body. This didn’t help her as she thought it was supposed to. As she washed her body, the sponge she was using moved over a scar on her right shoulder that she received from Detective Simpson when he accidentally fell into her. She cut it on the corner of the desk and had to get ten stitches from the doctor. To this day she hasn’t forgiven him for it and scolded him when ever he touched it. She turned the water off and dried herself off. Then she put a robe on and went into her bedroom to find her sleeping clothes. She dug through her drawers and settled on some green pajama bottoms with a yellow smiling faces all over, and a yellow spaghetti strap shirt. She put them on and climbed onto the bed. While she was getting under the covers she remembered that calm but creepy voice on the tape recorder that they found in the victim.
“To whoever finds this girl.”
Then she imagined the scared look on Detective Samuels face and sighed.
“It’s only the first day,” said she. “He’ll get over it tomorrow.”
She curled up wondering what the next day would bring her.