“This is Brotte,” I groggily said into the receiver. Why am I getting a call this early in the morning?
“Detective, this is Matt Punich, we got a body down at the marina.” Who is Punich? Isn’t it a Sunday morning? I should be off today.
“Uhh, where is the marina?” I have no idea where anything is in this town except the police office and barely my home.
“Address is sent. See you in 10.” The call clicked off and my cell beeped, signaling a text message. The text was from the same number the call was and contained an unknown address. I copied and pasted the address into the maps showing the marina only a few miles away.
When I jumped out of bed, my legs almost gave out on me. My body was insanely sore and I don’t know why. Shaking it off, I searched the dark room for a pair of my basic black work pants and my hopefully royal blue blazer. Only turning on my night lamp, I slipped on my pair of black flats, grabbed my gun and belt, my purse, and my keys, and jogged out to my car. I quickly reversed my car out of my short driveway and realized I forgot my phone. I vaguely remembered where the marina was so I was just gonna have to wing it.
Once I was on the main road in Macon, I noticed signs along the road that led to the marina, thank God. I started following them, trying to become familiar with the town. There were only a few cars on the road allowing me to drive quickly. I checked the time and realized it was only 6:04, too early for any normal person to be awake.
I pulled into the parking lot that was surrounded by cop cars and flashing lights and pulled into a random spot. When I got out of the car, I got an odd sense of deja vu.  Ignoring it, I put my belt around my waist, snapped it, and walked into the chaos.
“Detective Brotte! Detective Brotte! It's Matt Punish. I called you earlier. Wow you got here quickly.” A tall man with broad shoulders was speed walking towards me. He was wearing black dress pants with a coincidentally blue button up.
“Uh yeah, hi, so what do we have here?” I rolled up my sleeves, getting ready to get down and dirty.
“Well, it's one of  the worst this whole department has ever seen before. The only information we are able to collect id that it is a female. You will understand when you see it.”
“Why are we standing here then, let's go.” I wanted to get to the crime scene and solve this as quickly as possible so I can go home and unpack. Punich started walking towards all the people and I followed.
“Any leads? You know this town a lot better than I do, tell me about the people.” I almost had to shout over all the sirens.
“Not much to tell. This is the second murder in the last three weeks though. We have not had anything worse than a marital dispute in the last 10 years. The town folks are feeling unsafe so we need to solve these murders fast.” Wait, there’s been another murder besides this one?
Punich held the police tape up for me and then led me to the crime scene. The crime scene was right behind the small marina building by a dumpster, how cliche. I immediately noticed the amount of blood that was spread out. The blood led to an old green dumpster with a disassembled leg sticking out. Next to the leg was a hand. I became light headed by witnessing all this blood. I took a step back, almost tripping on another hand.
“Brotte, you okay?” Punich put a hand on the small of my back, trying to steady me.
“Yeah, yeah. Just haven’t seen this amount of blood and scattered body parts since learning about the old Black Creek Killer, Craig DeMay. This is his old M.O.” I started to get a migraine.
“Wasn’t that in 1998?”
“Yeah, officers found his body next to his last victim, his wife with his kid crying in the next room. He would take young and successful women, hide them in his basement for 24 hours, starving them, and then kill them by cutting off body parts in a random location, but always within a three mile radius of his house. His mother was a successful lawyer who left his family after winning a big case. The arresting officer said it was his way of getting back at his mom.  He was one of the worst cases of a psychopath this nation has ever witnessed.”
Punich didn’t say anything, just turned around to exam the scene. He had his hands in his back pockets and his chest was moving steadily, up and down. Realizing I was paying more attention to the man in front of me and not the crime scene, I shook my head and turned, my back to Punish, I took in the rest of the scene.
There was a total of 12 body parts, spread out in about 50 feet, with blood covering the majority of the ground. This did look frighteningly similar to the Black Creek Killer. Right then, I decided my next move, I stayed another two hours  and looked at the scene at every angle, trying to an idea, taking notes, and questioning people.
“Punich I have a plan. I will call all my contacts, get information about DeMay, find any information about his kid, living witnesses or family members, and take it from there.” I started to walk away.
“Detective, what am I supposed to do then?” He truly look lost.
“Send me everything about this murder and the other one I was poorly informed about.” I snapped, I am not walking them through this.
Once inside my car, I hit the steering wheel. I did not move to a little country town in the middle of  Texas to deal with another psychopath. For some reason, no matter what I did or tried, I always got the worst cases with the most messed up killers. I started my car and pulled out of the parking lot.
Which was did I turn in? I’m lost. But I will not go back and face everyone. I need to appear cool, calm, collected, in charge.
I pulled out of the lot, taking a left, and hoping for the best. Luckily, I began passing signs and houses that I remembered from this morning, but I took a wrong turn, quickly becoming lost again.
After a half hour of aimlessly driving around lost, I found my street sign, thank God. By now, my head was throbbing and I was in need of a nap. I unlocked my door, went inside, re-locked it, and went straight to my barely unpacked bedroom. I shut the thick blinds and fell heavily onto my mattress, not bothering to change out of my clothes. My head still pounding, I sent out quick emails to my contacts about DeMay and finally closed my eyes and tried a few breathing exercises my doctor taught me. I felt myself fall deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.

The girl screamed for help, but to no avail. Nobody would be awake at this hour near this place. This was a fact. A knife was pulled out and started to make cuts along her wrist, slowly to let her feel the pain, then quickly, letting more blood drip all over the ground. There was laughter coming from the knife holder, but the hand was translucent. The girl started to fade away, along with the laughter, the screaming, the night. Everything went black.

Chapter Two

My phone dinged, waking me out of my deep sleep. I looked at the clock, 6;24 p.m., wow I slept a lot. I crawled out of bed and looked around my bedroom. I really should start unpacking but I need coffee first. I walked to my kitchen, trying to figure out where I put the coffee but remembering I had none. My phone rang from my bedroom and I quickly ran to answer it.
“Brotte,” My robotic answer.
“It’s Punich, listen, I texted you, have you found anything out yet?”
“Let me check my email,” I turned my phone on speaker, seeing I have a few replies from some old buddies of mine, “Yeah, why don't you come over and we can open them and see what we can learn about everything. Bring coffee and food,” I hung up the phone not giving him room to argue. I looked around my room and found raggedy jeans and an old police academy sweatshirt. I put them on and went to go clear boxes off the dining room table for some space to eat and work. My phone rang again in my pocket and thinking it was Punish, I answered with a snarky comment.
“What you get lost already?”
“Uh, Charlotte, its Jen,” My childhood best friend answered awkwardly.
“Oh gosh, I am so sorry! How are you?”
“I’m good. Who did you think you were yelling at?” She laughed at me.
“My partner, he is coming over so we can review a case. Wow, we haven’t talked in awhile,”
“I know, you’ve been quite busy with the move to Texas. How is everything down there?”
“Busy. I just go there a few weeks ago and am already on a huge case probably involving a psychopath. It’s crazy.” I laughed.
“How do you feel about a little visit from your favorite person? I need to get away from the city.”
“Jen, I can’t. I just told you how busy it is down here. I will call when this is over but for now, this is my main focus. I have to go, my partner will be here any minute.” I hung up on her similar to what I did to Punich. When I hung up, there was a knocking on my door. Punich stood awkwardly with a bag of chinese takeout on one arm and two large cups of coffee in the other hand.
“Thank God. Come in, let's get started.” I wasted no time. He followed me into the dining room, I ran to grab plates and forks, we set up our laptops and got to work.
“So you said something about DeMay having a kid?” He asked.
“Yeah, I don’t know anything about them, my associates only found a name and where they were institutionalized. Taylor DeMay and they were sent to a facility called Cold Stone Institute for multiple personality disorder.  I still am unaware of their gender.” I quickly glanced at the emails that I was sent. There wasn’t much information.
“Have you called the institute? I’m sure they have some sort of record in Taylor.”
“The only issue is that my buddy told me Cold Stone shut down in 2000 due to a fire and they lost all their documents.” I was already overly frustrated with this case.
“Alright, how are we so sure this has to do with DeMay then? There’s no actual proof of a connection.” Punich had to state to obvious.
“Look at the motive, successful young girl, missing for 24 hours, found dead, slaughtered practically. That's exactly like DeMay. What other explanation is for this?” I snapped.
“Sorry, let's keep digging on DeMay then,” He said sheepishly. We worked for four hours until I kicked Punich out so I can sleep. The only progress we made was that DeMay’s kid had completely disappeared from the map.
I worked for a littler longer, reviewing the last two murders, both identical in almost every aspect other than the location. The first one was in an alley downtown and this one was at the marina. Weird places. That night I had restless dreams.

The knives were getting cleaned. The floor wiped down. And the air being freshened by opened windows. The next murder will be even better than the last two. This is the time to show them what true talent looks like. Watching the house, the windows locked, door locked, and lights shut off. They take precaution but always forget one window. Tonight will be perfect. The moon is full and the night is silent. It's time.

Chapter Three

The next morning, I get a call from the police department. They said there's been a murder but won’t tell me who it is. I quickly get dressed and leave to the address. I know this address. There are police cars and an ambulance, a scene I am used to, but this time is different. THe police aren’t as loud, the lights not as bright, and the morning sky dull and grey. I walk past all the tape and people into the house. I follow the most noise and find a body in their bedroom. There laid Punich in a bloody pile.
My body and mind are numb. I don’t know what to think. I barely knew him but he was my partner. I should feel something but right now I can’t. This reminds me of New York. I lost my partner then too, but not to a crazed psychopath, but to a drunk driver. I run out of the house to my car. I can’t breathe, my clothes are too tight, the air stinks of death. I suddenly feel like the car is shutting in on me. Everything is going dark and I am losing my thoughts.
I jolt awake to the sound banging on my car windows. Paramedics look frazzled when I open the door.
‘What do you want?” This is going to be a bad day.
“You were passed out ma’am, we wanted to make sure you were alright,” the taller one said. I think he was one of the ones at the marina.
“I’m fine, just got overwhelmed. Thanks.” I shut my door and started the car. I needed to find out who did this. I am sick of losing partners. I plugged my address into my phone and followed it home.
When I got home, I slammed my front door shut, and went straight to my dining room to my laptop, but once there, I felt something off. I looked around but couldn’t find anything. I put my hand on my gun and started to look around my house. Finally, I went into my bedroom to see a figure standing in the middle of the room.
“Wow, took you long enough Charlotte. I have been waiting for a while. Did you like the surprise I left for you?” Jennifer said as she examined a knife.
“Jen, what are you doing? Are you crazy?” I almost screamed, this was too much. What was going on?
I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and hit the speed dial one button for 911, when somebody picked up, Jennifer was already coming for me so I had to quickly scream my name into the receiver.
“This is Charlotte Brotte,I need police at my house NOW!” And then Jen tackled me to the ground.
“Don’t you get it Charlie? I did this for us, for you. Why don’t you like my gift?” Jen was on top of me with my hands pinned under her knees.
“Jennifer, you need to stop now. The police are on their way and they will take you to jail.” I tried to wiggle out of her hold to no avail.
“Don’t you mean us?” She taunted me.
“What do you mean us? I did nothing wrong. You’re the real psychopath here Jennifer, and you will pay for what you did!” I was over this. Jennifer will pay.
“Why do you keep calling me Jennifer? You should call me Charlotte.”
I could hear the police sirens right outside my house. I was terrified of Jennifer, she was acting like a complete lunatic. Her knife was still in her hand, but she hasn’t tried to use it yet. I used all my force to kick her off my body just as the police came into my room. Thank God.
The police came at me with their guns pointed.
“What are you guys doing? The killers over there!” I pointed at Jennifer in the corner.
“Charlotte Brotte, or Taylor DeMay, you are under arrest for the fire at Cold Stone Institute, the murder of the two women, and for the murder of Detective Matthew Punich. You have to right to-” They grabbed my hands and I started thrashing and kicking. I was not a killer! Jennifer did this!
“No! I did  not do this! It was her! You are making a mistake.”
“Ma’am, you are the only one in this room, with a knife that looks like the one that killed our detective and the other women along with bloody clothes. You are the killer.” He stated matter of factly as he pulled me off my knees. I looked to Jennifer as she winked at me, walked towards me, and disappeared in me. I felt a wave of uneasiness as I puked and remembered everything. I was Jennifer, I was Taylor, I was Charlotte, I am a killer, and I like it. The cops dragged me outside reading my miranda rights as I smiled viciously at them. I wonder what it would be like to kill them? My father always enjoyed killing, and so do I. One of the few things we ever bonded over.