𝖁𐊊օ𝙤ꓒ𝙮 Ꮥm𝗂￨𝒆 (Jeff the Killer x Original Character)

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 9: Ⅎoɔns

"-aused this? This is the most murders recorded in this city ever!" Commissioner Dougherty exclaimed, slamming his fist onto the desk. His face was red in anger, bushy brows furrowed. "Hell, in this county! We need to do something about those two killers and we need to do something now."

The other officers in the room all voiced their agreement in various ways, all of them were tired of the blood bath. The last few years were hard enough dealing with the Go To Sleep killer terrorizing the city, now there's some Jack the Ripper wannabe causing mayhem. When will it stop? When will Crossport be allowed to rest?

"Who's to say it's two killers? I think that Go To Sleep fucker got bored." A voice called out causing everyone in the room to stare at her in shock. She looked up through her thick pale lashes at them, green eyes cold and daring them to disagree. "I guess terrorizing people in their homes got stale." She clenched her fists, folding her arms to hide how she shook with rage at the thought.

"Denise are you d-" Dougherty started, rage flashing in his eyes at her inconsiderate statement.

"Now that's a unique take." A new voice chuckled, causing all the officers of law present in the room to flinch and scan the room for the newcomer. It was a man in a crisp black suit, bright red tie, and slicked-back hair. He had a smug face as he made himself at home, sitting down in one of the empty seats as if he was a part of the meeting all along.

"Identify yourself right now!" Dougherty yelled, raising his pistol which caused a chain reaction, everyone in the room raised their weapons. About 20 guns were pointed at the strange man's chest, and to that he merely smirked as if it was nothing.

"Porter D. Garrison from the FBI." He introduced himself, reaching for something in his jacket only for Dougherty to click the safety of his gun as a warning. "I'm merely grabbing my badge." Garrison jested, his nonchalant attitude in the face of danger was unnerving.

"Jackson, search him," Dougherty ordered the officer closest to him, the ginger-haired man quickly moved towards Garrison, reaching into his jacket to grab the aforementioned badge. He pulled it out, immediately moving away from the man in the suit and handing the badge to Dougherty. The Commissioner scanned the badge, brows furrowed as he scanned it for validity.

"I-It seems legit." Dougherty frowned, motioning for the others to lower their guns. They obeyed, hesitantly though. "Why are you here, then?" Dougherty questioned, looking at the man.

"Word of your little killer problem has reached my department and they sent me to investigate. I arrived today and searched for you, Commissioner Dougherty, to discuss the happenings but I was told you were in a meeting. I decided to listen in and it just so happens that you were discussing the reason I'm here!" Garrison happily explained, clasping his hands and resting them on the table before him.

"Why would the FBI care about Crossport?" Denise questioned, narrowing her eyes at the agent.

"Your little sleepy killer is connected to something far greater than you can understand." Garrison smiled widely though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Wh-" Denise began but was interrupted.

"What does PGDE stand for?" Dougherty demanded, "It was on your badge."

"Protection of Government Delegated Entities," Garrison explained proudly, his smile stretched to the point his cheeks twitched. It was a disturbing sight, it caused a cold chill to run down everyone's back.

"What d-does that have to do with Crossport?" Jackson stuttered out, clenching his gun in its holster in fear.

"Everything," Garrison whispered.