The takings of Kaitlyn Becker

The Final Taking

It's been a while hasn't it.

Maybe you can argue thats it's taken longer than it needed to. And you know what, maybe you're absolutely right.

The rest of the bureau have initiated a statewide manhunt for Damien Cole. His photo was plastered on every shop window, and at the back of nearly every bus in the city. Bloodhounds were sent scavenging the forests and nearby ravines, patrol cars doubled down in their formations and amidst the constant, never ending pandemic, there was a new fear that was installed into the lives of the people.

You see, Damien was described as an ordinary person. There was nothing suggestive of him being the psychopath he was. In many ways, he was just like his beloved, Kaitlyn. Average height, dull black hair, a smile that you would forget in a heartbeat and narrow, fragile shoulders. They were the kind of people you would see filling their cars with gas at the station. Or seated beside you in the subway. And that's what unsettled the general public.

Murderous, skin carving psychopaths, hidden in human clothing.

Once Kaitlyn died, and her body was taken again, my lieutenant called me and asked, 'What should we do now? I've sent two squads to North End and another to the hospital. We've got the sewer under maintenance and we're running a search for any traces of Damien.'

I listened without saying a word.

'What should we do Jo? You know more about this case than anyone else.'

Know more? Fucking hell. I was attached to this case. I fucking bled for it. I stood in their shoes, watched them murder relentlessly and run their tongues over each other's faces.
It was at that moment I realised that I didn't know where the case ended, and where I began. It had swallowed me whole, ever since the very beginning.

Ever since I thought Kaitlyn Becker was a sweet, young nurse who was kidnapped and tortured by her captor. And it wasn't just me, everyone else thought the same.

Even you did.

I looked back at the lieutenant, his hard gazing eyes peered right through me. "We wait" I said. "We wait for something else to pop up."

'What do you mean?' he yells, 'We can't wait any longer. What if he takes someone else? What if he burns someone the same way he burnt her boyfriend?'

I laughed. "He won't."

'And how are you so sure?'

I stared him deep into the eye. He felt unnerved.
"Because Kaitlyn Becker was the love of his life."

The manhunt continued for a week. And a part of me couldn't help but laugh at their hopeful efforts. They were never going to find Damien. He started this game and it was only him who could end it.

I was advised counselling, and given two months of mandatory rest. I suppose the lieutenant was suspicious of my fragile state of mind.

I did what I was told. And to be honest, for a few days at the leisure centre in the beach, I dreamt of a whole new life. A life away from crime and bureau drama, away from the corpses, the paperwork and the never ending courtroom trials. Maybe, in that life I would have a child. A girl, I suppose, around five or six, playing in the sand by the beach. And a husband, someone away from the bureau. Something far more mundane. An ordinary man, with an ordinary job. That's what I dreamt of the first few nights at the leisure centre but on the third night, I was awoken by a call.

And I knew exactly who it is.

I picked it up, and whispered his name.
'Damien.'

"Detective Wolff."