Chapter 1

Red. That was the first thought that came into my mind.

It's been seven years, but I could still never get used to this horrible color.

As I stood still, taking in my surroundings, I could hear the sound of raindrops hitting on the steel stairway of this house. The occasional roar of thunder and the screaming cops trying to send away the nosy neighbors gathered at the bottom made me wish I was anywhere but here.

The others in my team were rushing through the house looking for evidence. From a distance, I could see the forensic team were at it clicking away or dusting fingerprint powder.

The house that was once quiet is now filled with camera shutters going on and off and blinding white lights photographing the crime scene. The sound of the pouring rain and thunder made it even noisier.

And here I was pulling myself together after waking up in the middle of the night from Dave's call yelling at me to get here as fast as I could.

I walked past the living room and moved towards the body of the girl that lay right in the middle of her bedroom.

She was dressed in a baby pink gown that is now stained in red and her blonde hair spread out on the floor of her bedroom. Her hands arranged neatly one on top of the other and set right on top of her stomach.

At first, she looked peaceful laying there as if she were asleep, but the blood pouring out of the gash at the side of her skull told otherwise.

She had no other visible bruises except for a few scrapes and cuts, but only the autopsy could tell more.

"Katy Price. 25 years old. MBA student at Princeton. It looks like she was on her way to a friend's party," said Max.

Max was my partner in the team. We've been together ever since the team was formed 2 years ago with the public blaming the government for the high number of cold cases.

And now here we were inspecting a serial murder case from 11 years ago with the latest victim in front of us in 2020.

We've been pulling all-nighters with this case for the past few months, and today was the first time I got to go home in a long time. But it looks like I'll be living in the night-duty room for some time.

"How do you know?"

"Her last message to James says so, and her student ID,"

"Do you think it's the same person?"

"I wish not. Because if that was the case, this would be his 4th victim. And you know writing the reports for these aren't fun…"

I walked closer to the body to get a better look. And there I saw it, the signature we were hoping not to find.

Katy had imprints of cigarette burns at the tips of her finger, with each one looking even more gory than the other. Those 5 pinkish red circles were signs of how fresh the burns were.

She was alive then, just like the others.

Up close, the gash on the side of her head looked even deeper. It had cracked open her skull, and the insides looked like they would spill out any moment.

The blood pouring from it had reached the stool of her dressing table and was now staining her rug on the corner.

"Did you find a murder weapon?"

"No. But if this is the same person, then it's probably got to be somewhere close to this house. The knife that was used to kill Stacy was also found two days later under her garbage can when dumpsters had gone to pick up the trash."

Stacy was stabbed in her home in 2009. She had the same cigarette burns. But she was 35 years old and a single mom.

"So did you look under the garbage can this time?"

"Yeah, didn't find anything except for wriggling white worms and a piece of spoilt bread."

The gash on Katy's head had to be done from some sharp tool, probably a hammer or something similar. Otherwise, there was no way something could cut this deep for the insides to show.

This killer we were dealing with was no ordinary kind.

Compared to him, the rest of the criminals almost seemed like amateurs who were high on drugs or were drunk. There was no way a sane person could ever do something this horrible.

What was creepier was that compared to most murder scenes, this one was pretty clean.

Even though it was messed up, everything was still all in its own place. This murderer wasn't sloppy, that's for sure.

I moved away from the body, taking a look at the house myself.

Katy seemed like she had an ordinary life, just like all the others.

Her room was decorated with movie posters, images of K-pop idols, and a rack full of LPs. She must've liked collecting vintage stuff cause there's no turntable in sight.

Inside her closet, her outfits were arranged perfectly.

The rack full of shoes taking up the entire bottom had sneakers to high heels and sandals sorted according to colour, while the two top shelves were divided between casuals and jeans.

If there was one thing that stood out about Katy was how organized she was.

But the messed up bed in the corner told a different story.

It was such a contrast from everything else that was sorted.

The mess showed signs of her fight with the killer, and perfume mixed with the tangy stench of blood filled the air.

Her dressing table had 3 picture frames arranged on top with the makeup bottles. One of herself. Another with some guy and the other with someone that seemed like her dad.

Her house had only one room, though. Katy was clearly living alone. And it seems like she was very particular about cleaning up.

Other than for her bedroom, the rest of her house was untouched. The dishes were in place; the fridge arranged neatly according to color and the bathroom, spick and span.

There was no sign of a forced entry.

I walked back once again into her room after remembering seeing a window by her bed. It was locked tight, just as I expected. The killer must be someone close or befriended these victims long before.

"Doesn't seem like a forced entry, huh?" said Max.

"I had the same thought. Whoever this is, he must've known Katy enough for her to let him in, even when she was on her way to a friend's party".

As the minutes passed by, the rain seemed to be ceasing finally. But the unsettling stench of blood was growing stronger. I don't know whether it was just me or the fact that there was no fan turned on; I was starting to feel dizzy in the stuffed house.

I had to get out of here before I threw up.

From a distance, I could see Dave, our team leader, talking with the forensic team leader, Jason. The two have been working together on many cases and even joined the force a few months after the other. But next to Jason, Dave looked quite unfit with his short height and big belly. I doubt anyone would believe me if I said Jason was actually older than Dave!

After a while, Dave started walking towards us. Well, more like waddling.

His shirt was crumpled up, showing signs of rushing here just as I did, and his barely-there hair was messed with strands sitting up from the front and the sides. He seemed to be in deep thought even while he was making his way to us.

"Gather up, team, we're going back to the station. We've got a killer to hunt." He flashed a cheesy grin.

And…that was the Dave I knew. Max, who was right next to me with Dave, groaned and disappeared the next minute, saving himself from the secondhand embarrassment and the stink eye the forensic team was giving us.

I almost facepalmed myself. What was I expecting?!

Dave had been in the force for over 25 years. He used to be my dad's partner until he was left alone, pulling together a team that was falling apart.

My dad was killed in a chase 8 years ago while he was on duty. And they still haven't been able to find his killer. He was the sole reason I joined the force. And I don't think I'll ever be worthy of calling myself a lieutenant if I wasn't able to solve his case.

But though dad wasn't around anymore, Dave definitely made up for those embarrassing dad moments. I would hate to admit it to him, but having Dave around almost felt like having dad around sometimes.

"Trust me, Dave, jokes aren't your thing. I would stop flexing them if I were you and save myself from utter shame and embarrassment."

He smiled again. "Niña on dark days, we must see the light. And that light is my killer puns!" he said in his heavily Spanish accented English.