PUPARIA (G/T)

Rain

"Huh." Hosah stood over the dirtied, coffee-stained notebook page that sat in-front of him.

His assistant leant in uncomfortably closer, his brain left to wonder what the hell it said for far too long by now, "Well, can you make it out?"

The shifter kissed his teeth, unsure whether to tell the truth and have to read all what it said out loud, or if he should keep the team waiting until somebody else had interpreted and written it up in an email.

"No, no yeah, pretty much." To be fair, he wasn't sure of a couple of ink-smudged words, but as long as he got the gist of it, that would be enough to move the case forward.

As eyes of anticipation bore into him, Hosah realised now was probably the time to start reading. With a heavy sigh, slightly contemplating what he'd gotten himself into, he began;

"You fucking vermin. You don't know me, and frankly, I don't really know you either, but I know enough to come up with the conclusion, that you're all, fucking leeches. People worry about the rats that scurry all around the city, in the subway station, in the trash and down the dark alleyways, but the real fucking rats are right in front of us."

Eugh. Cliche. Boring. All the other adjectives Hosah couldn't quite think of right in that moment,

"But, I've found myself growing fond of you. Watching you from afar. I find myself both loving you, and hating you. The lines have blurred by now. I understand you are human, or at least, that is what you parade yourself around as, but honestly, I'm not too sure you're anything at all. Completely devoid of life. Just an empty pit of nothing hiding in a cold, flesh shell. I see you sitting alone at bars on a Friday night, and I have to really stop myself from sitting down next to you, buying you a drink, taking you home with me, keeping you forever. But I'm not that selfish. Maybe later. You make me furious, because I love you. And I shouldn't, that's what you want, after all, you act cute and helpless, vulnerable and fragile, that's what draws everyone in, you've got that ginger prick hanging on your every word, and look at you. Hot and cold, nothing that you say is what you really mean, you work people up just to run away when they start to act on feelings they thought were returned. It's cruel. But, I can be crueler. We would've made the perfect pair, if you didn't drive me so crazy. You're going to be the death of me, Hosah Seung Levi. And the death of many, many others. I don't know, see how I feel once this gets to you. Let's talk more over drinks next time, though."

Ew. Was this really the type Hosah attracted? Serial killer stalkers? I mean, sounded about right. Some of the note seemed pretty heartfelt, some downright offensive, and some offensively corny. If the murder wasn't the main thing that put him off, it'd be the cheesy way they spoke about him.

"I've never even told anyone my middle name." The shifter's voice shook, clearly disturbed by the contents of the letter, despite not wanting to admit to being so.

Teddy leant back in his chair, hands rubbing his face in disgust, not saying a word, just groaning endlessly.

"Man." The giant pushed himself forwards again, eyes fixated on the paper, "Got ourselves a next level freak."

If you were to listen closely, a small, unsettled 'Hmm' could be heard from the tiny man sitting before the sheet. There was so much information to rack his brain on. Hosah hadn't even been to the bar in weeks, meaning this killer had been at the whole stalking game for a while now. He wondered if it was just the fifteen they were guilty of, or if years worth of unsolved homicides were all on their hands. Maybe he'd have to take up the offer to chat over drinks, just to pry all of this information out of the twisted individual with his bare hands.

He wondered about what specifically he'd done to attract this kind of attention. If anything, the shifter thought he'd been keeping his head down lately, staying out of trouble, but it seems the more he tries to avoid these kinds of people, the more attracted to him they become.