Criminal Infatuation

R̶e̶s̶e̶r̶v̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶

Detective Cold. That's what the Bristol Police Department nicknamed me. I was only 23 and I solved two cold cases within the year. It was a miracle, they said, and I rose in the ranks as one of the youngest Detectives. This 'Isaiah'. . .they know my nickname. They're either a person who knows of me or someone in the group who I've had a run in with. There's no one, or group, I can pinpoint in the witnesses, interviewees, or even family members of any of the suspects or assailants.

You've been solving those cases left to right.

Isaiah knows I've been doing this for a few years now. That helps with my earlier theory of prior knowledge of this person or group.

You're as intelligent as your reputation states.

Reputation is used. Again, further evidence for the prior theory. Also a compliment, which might be a poetic choice. They rhyme in a few areas, so that's not completely out of the question. A romantic, perhaps? Shows a little of their personality or morals as a group.

I've got a game, then. And it's a fun one.

The fact that 'I' was used could either be a huge hint to Isaiah being one person, or it could be a misnomer meant to throw me off. And the fact that they name this a 'game' is also suspicious, yet points to sociopathic behaviors.

No one's been able to catch me.

I should have known about the others when Officer Martins called me. No one. . .just how long has this Isaiah character been in play with police departments around the United States? Massachusetts and California are straight across the country, so there's a lot of ground to cover for the country as a whole.

I've murder and spared, and gutted in glee.

Admittance. This could be a hoax letter, and that's something I'm hoping for, but I feel a sense of dread. I feel as though this letter tells the truth. There's someone or some people out there, stalking potential victims and slaying souls that won't be missed for some time, or never missed at all. Isaiah has killed. I;m sure of it, but with no proof, there's no certainty.

Why, Detective Cold, can you identify who I am?

Taunting me. Serial killers have done this for ages, and there's advancements in technology and forensics to help identify Isaiah. But this is also another example of sociopathic behavior. Isaiah wants this to stay a game.

Can you seek me out and decode the game?

Bingo. Isaiah wants this to stay a game. They want to be found, but on their terms. Serial killers and the attention. That doesn't bother me as much as the last few lines of the letter though. The ones were Isaiah claims to be watching me. And with what Officer Martins said about not speaking about the case over the phone. . .it all checks out.

I'll be waiting, watching. . .and sending clues and letters.

Will they send those? What will they be? If there's been many Detectives with similar letters, are they worded the same way? Too many pieces weren't adding up!

Alex stuffed more of his belongings into the bags he was bringing, sending a few texts to coworkers and setting the map up. He slid the items all together, staring outside at the very dark sky. He slid the bag over his arms, walking outside and hearing his phone say, "One day and 22 hours left to San Francisco, California."

"Thanks, ass," Alex whispered, locking his apartment door and walking down the stairs to the car park, his KIA soul parked just close enough that it was easy to pack into it. As he shut the backdoor, an engine caught his attention. He glanced up, a scowl crossing his face.