The Insomnia Problem

My name is Katherine Mallory. I'm a police detective with the Chicago PD's Criminal Intelligence Unit, the CIU. I usually handle your run-of-the-mill cases: Drug trafficking, black markets, and Kingpins of hidden syndicates; these were my jurisdiction. Admittedly, our networks haven't been as stacked lately, crime was unusually low. That was good for my department by most metrics, but it yielded an expectation that was being challenged by unforeseen circumstances.

Keeping tabs on criminal activity was one thing, it was nearly black and white and clear in understanding with the methodologies we had. There were motives, paper trails, data... but what could be extrapolated of a series of scarily methodical disappearance of my colleagues?

I sipped coffee at my desk when I was approached by the Chicago PD Chief, Archer Bronson. He had focused black eyes when he entered my office, a clear indicator that the matter was serious. "Good evening, Katherine. Got a second?" he inquired. At the time, I was only sorting some minor detailing records regarding a drug trafficking ring; I was tasked with updating our intel on it weekly. It was busy-work at best, so I nodded my head in confirmation.

"Of course, what do you need, sir?" I spoke formally. I could see dark circles beneath the Chief's eyes, something I chalked up to him staying later than usual since it was close to 5:00 PM. This had meant he was there for over 10 hours already. The Chief approached my desk, sitting across from me. He was silent for a few moments, seeming bothered by what he was about to say.

"I won't beat around the bush, but do understand that I am being 100% serious when I speak about this subject—" he rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, "shits been chaotic regarding the disappearances of our officers. We're beginning to piece together some infuriatingly-cryptic evidence. The strange thing being that it's consistent, but we got no way to follow up on it at all. There's a commonality among all of the alleged scenes and their last known locations. All of them had similar pretenses to them..."

I cocked an eyebrow; my curiosity was piqued regarding the infamous subject. We of course heard about it, we were all trying to piece things together between search parties and the like. The Chief pointed to the envelope he was holding. He set it down on my desk and slid it closer to me.

I unclenched my fingers and reached out, grasping and dragging it closer. The chief watched the envelope as if the contents in them prompted his undying attention. I couldn't help but feel pressure creeping through the air, anxious to see if the reports and photos within the envelope would further designate the ominous situation he was hinting at.

I opened it carefully, sliding the photos out before lining up their corresponding reports beneath them. The chief stood, circling the desk to stand beside me as my eyes scanned over the contents.

My eyes scanned the pages. I frowned at what I read and saw. Photos of abandoned police cruisers and SUVs were on display in most of the pictures, usually with a door opened. Dried blood was present in some of the photos, indicating injuries. The most common detail was claw marks either on the squad cars or along the pavement. No bodies were found according to the individual reports. They also only occurred at night, but I knew that much already. The office small-talk couldn't match the scope based on what I saw thus far. Maybe some kind of animal being used by a cunning perpetrator? I could only make initial guesses upon getting a summary, but I knew it was downright insidious to have happened over 9 times in the scope of just a few weeks.

"I... see why you haven't gotten much sleep," I admitted in a frustrated tone, knowing if I got involved with figuring this out, I'd likely be extending my shifts more than I already was. My daughters were going to be annoyed, but they understood the nature of my work. After all, these were my colleagues and my second family that was on the line.