Serial Killer:

After five years on the police force, I was transferred to a special unit to catch a serial killer that had been stalking young women, raping and slashing their body parts so it was nearly impossible to identify them. We had to find dental records and fingerprints to match up the bodies when we could. Sadistic was a word that we used often through this investigation. 

One of the girls had survived his attack, giving us a description of a man with sandy colored hair, blue eyes and a scar down his left cheek, around forty years of age. We had the sketch artist come up with a reasonable simile and published it in every local paper. We put her in protective custody around the clock as we thought he might try to finish her off. He now knew that we knew what he looked like.

We had gone beyond trying not to scare the public as the count was at ten and we knew there would be another one soon as his pattern was to wait until the weekends to find his next victim. Most of the girls lived alone, no boyfriends on the scene, so we knew he did his homework stalking them before he went after one. Usually he broke into their place late at night. Catching them sound asleep. Two girls had been found in a local park under branches off the trail that runners used. These two girls had their hair cut to the scalp with a cross cut into their forehead. This one really stumped us as to why the difference in his procedure. 

My boss came to me, and now I knew why I had been picked to join this task force, all the girls had red hair that he had killed, and yes, I was a redhead. They wanted to use me as bait and put my picture in the paper announcing a promotion for selling the most houses in the city. The picture would show my condominium inside and out and that it was on the market as I now planned to move to larger accommodations.

They moved me into this place before the picture was published and I was now the target for this crazy serial killer. My boss said I would be under surveillance at all times and would wear a wire 24/7.  All I had to do was wait for him to make his move and we would put him away for good and our city would again be safe.

The weekend was only three days away, he did not have much time to decide if I was going to be his next victim. I carried on as I was a real-estate agent and all my calls were recorded and checked out. Nothing happened when the weekend came and went. No new body appeared and we thought maybe he had been scared off with his photograph in all the papers.

The next week I felt like someone was watching me, but could never see anyone that looked suspicious. I only spotted my backup occasionally. I hope the killer would not spot him too. I told them to back off.

Friday night arrived and I had just opened a bottle of wine when the phone rang. I let it ring three times so the recording would start and we might find his location if it was him. I picked up. No one at the other end. Was this the night he was going to come after me? I poured a glass of wine and then dumped it down the sink, leaving the glass in view. I needed my head straight tonight. I started to light candles in the bathroom, running the water as if I was going to enjoy a leisurely night if he was watching from outside. My backup was one street over and my partner was next door in a vacant suite.

I waited an hour then emerged from the bathroom with my housecoat over my clothes and walked in front of my bedroom window. I had not closed the curtains so I was in plain view. Switching off the light I got under the covers and waited. We had radio silence and my partner would call the backup as soon as he heard me use our code and would be inside in minutes.

Two hours passed. I was about to abort when I heard the kitchen glass window tinkle softly. He was in and I sent my partner our code, shrinking farther down in my covers trying to breathe normally. My gun in my hand aiming at the door. My heart was beating twice as fast.

We had to be sure this was the killer and not just, someone trying to rob me, so I waited until I heard a scrape on the stair coming towards me. He slowly opened my bedroom door as I switched on the flashlight his sandy blond hair and scar on his cheek told me this was our guy. He showed surprise but recovered quickly moving towards the bed to grab and swing at my head missing only by inches. I lifted my gun and got off one shot as my partner crashed through the door. We had him handcuffed before backup was on the scene.

 

As he was taken away, he swore he would get me. My only comment was he would not be getting anyone again.

Unfortunately, he slipped on my stairs falling to the bottom step, while being taken out and broke his neck. Nobody asked if he was pushed or fell. We were just glad there would never be a trial.

So we never found out why he had carved the cross into the girls foreheads.

I will leave that to the shrinks to figure out.