The Sacrificial Lamb

Ominous Warning, 2

Could it be? No.. It's been to many years, to long of a rest period for it to be him.  I would have to to see the crime scene, see if he left his calling card.. questions that went unanswered muddled my mind further, cheating me out of answers I so desperately wanted; no needed.  

 I knew from the start of this case, it was not going to be the normal; take a few statements, check alibis and that sort of thing. No, it was a deranged fucking game of cat and mouse.. he was the hunter, and me well I was nothing more then mere prey. something he could toy around with, as he derived sick pleasure leaving his calling cards for me to find on his victims.

A sudden gust of bone chilling wind, slipped under the layered warmth of the two sizes to big jacket I wore; softly caressing the taut skin that lay in wait underneath.  promptly making me go at a rather distraught gait; on already raw feet propelling my body towards my beaten down car. As by this time in the afternoon the weather's previous blighted conditions took a rather nasty turn.

My car is now only a couple feet in front of me, if only my blasted legs would work! alas that will never be unless I  can get out of this blasted weather; to somewhere that is a little warmer.

Quickly but rather unsightly was I  finally able to make it to my old worn down, cruiser. fingers numb, shaking of that of a new born Bambi. fumbling around inside my jacket pocket, was I  finally able to produce my keys. 

A light screech accompanied the sliding of the key into it's slot, as the bitter freeze had made the mechanisms from with in the door's entrails rather brittle to say the least. The internal structure fared no better, as the leather that was once a pristine onyx that stretched regally across it's metal skeleton lays in ruins, cracked and marred from the passage of time.

I slipped the key in the ignition, attempting to turn the engine over. It roared to life after a couple clanks all the while sputtering to keep enough of it's mechanical life force to turn over. After my battle with the old clunker, I was finally on my way to the scene of the crime. While I drove down the highway I found my self in a drifting away slowly from the face of reality. As my subconscious wiggled it's way forward forcefully to the forefront not to be silenced.

Forced images of previous crime scenes came flashing back to me, being pieced together from the remains of snippets of a film wheel being played back from a old 1879 projector across the big screen. only this time the film was my subconscious trying to piece together snippets of information, that didn't quite fit as it was a jigsaw puzzle missing most of it's pieces. Rendering it incomplete, not whole in many aspects.