𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 ➺ 𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀 / 𝘀𝘁𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿

𝑰𝑿

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"What the fuck are you talking about?" Stu growls, tightening his grip on Quinn. Billy's hand also tenses up.

"How would that even be possible, I haven't even been here for 3 months. If that were true the killer would have to be someone that knew me-" She stopped talking as her eyes widen. The three boys throw her questioning looks as she feels her eyes begin to sting.

Before.
Knew me before.
Knew me before..
Knew me before...

Quinn stood up pushing Stu and Billy off her. "Hey, what's wrong?" Stu asks, his voice sounding hurt. "I have to go." She says quickly trying to get her things but shes stopped by Billy. "You alright, Quinn?" His hand was holding her arm preventing her from moving. "No." She jerks her arm away from Billy and breaks into a sprint for Stu's car. "What the hell is she doing?" Stu asks as all three of the boys stare at her; unaware of what she was about to do. She unlocks the door and jumps in the car. From the corner of her eye she sees Stu suddenly start frantically patting down his pockets. His head snaps back up at her.

"Again?" Billy smirks. "Quinn, what the fuck!?Give me my keys!" Stu shouts, running up to the car banging on the window. She ignores him and jam the keys into the ignition. She starts up the car and immediately slams on the gas speeding away hearing the three boys' yells slowly fade away.

She speeds all the way to her house in a single breath. She mumbled the whole way in an incoherent panic; racking her brain for an explanation, a reason, something!

Surely it can't be, that's insane.. even for—

She doesn't even fully make it into the driveway before she jumps out of the car and sprints to the door. She digs in her pockets fumbling with the keys before jamming it in and quickly open the door before slamming it closed.

I'm such an idiot! How did I not recognize him!?

She sprints up the stairs into what would've been her parent's office. Immediately, she gets behind the computer she had installed turning it on. She taps her finger against the wooden table at a rapid pace as she ran an anxious hand through her hair. After what felt like an eternity the search bar finally popped up. She goes through a back door and breaks into the main firewall of the PCPD's private records changing the information availability level. She had done it constantly back home to keep tabs on police. Frantically typing in his name she sees the same information as before pull up.

Oliver Dexten

Sex: Male

Age: 22

Occupation: Homicide Investigator

Dexten was a detective stationed in Paris, France. He had been investigating the Broken Heart Killer case before he had announced he was going to move to America for business.

Quinn sees in an almost unnoticeable shade of blue, on the word 'business.' Was this here before? She clicks it and gets redirected to a new page. It was a video with a black screen and a play button in the middle. When she clicked it a recording began to play.

"Dexten had stated he was going to follow a "lead" that he believed will benefit the case. However, no one had bought his lie. Everyone around him knew what he was really doing, he was going to find that girl he had constantly spoken of. The poor sap met her once and would spew about his affection like she was the love of his life; it was honestly quite pathetic. I only wish that girl well. For I know what that man is capable of—"

The video cut out.

Silence lingered in the air as Quinn stared blankly at the now black screen. "DAMNIT!" She screamed, ripping the computer from the wall and hurling it into the door. The plastic box exploded into a flurry of electrical wires, hardware, and fizzing sparks. Her fingers grip at the roots of her hair as her elbows dig into the wooden desk.

"I can't take this..."

That obsessive, lunatic followed her all the way from Paris. She couldn't believe she didn't realize it sooner. All the cryptic letters, the feelings of being watched, the sound of bushes rustling right after a fresh kill. All of that was that fucking psychopath. She slams her head against the desk.

That disgusting, perverted, bastard..

Quinn lifts her head from the table as crimson blood dripped onto the wood. That itching feeling came back and now she's lost the self control to give a damn who it is this time. She stands from the table and walks towards the door; stepping over the broken computer. She walks downstairs into the living room and immediately quickens her pace once the boxes were in sight. She looks down at the floor littered like weapons; kneeling down to pick up a large butcher knife. She ran her finger along the rigged edge before smiling at the blood that prick her finger.

"Someone's gonna fucking die tonight."
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