Living Hell

chapter 1

I'm asleep. It's three in the morning, when my agency issued cell phone decides to ring. I unwrap myself from my blankets and lazily slam my hand down on my phone. I pick it up and look at the caller ID, it's my partner Jared. Of all the people in my squad who love to wake me up at three in the morning, he would be the one. I growl into the phone, I'm not one for words in the morning.

"Why hello, Hickory. Do you morph into a monster at night? 'Cause that growl sounded very realistic," Jared says with a cheerful southern drawl. 

For the record, my name is not Hickory. It's Hikari. Yes, I know what you're thinking. But it sounds like Hickory. And that's exactly why people insist on calling me that. A white girl with a Japanese name is not something you come across everyday. Anyway, back to the story.

I growl again. "Who the hell decided to die at three in the morning?"

"Why do you always assume that whenever we call you?" Jared asks innocently.

"Because why else would  you call me at three in the morning?" I spat back.

Silence for a moment, but I can hear some snickering going on in the background. No doubt I'm on speaker.

"Good point. And yes someone has, in your words, decided to pass this morning," the rest of his sentence  drowned out by a horrific wail. I groan and hold the phone a foot away from my ear.

"What in God's ever loving name was that?" I asked.

"That's the fiancee of the deceased."

I sigh. I am so not looking forward to doing that interview, especially since I can feel a giant migraine coming. "Alright. I'll be over in a few," I mumble.

"John wants to leave the phone on till you get here. Just in case we get something important," Jared says quickly.

I sigh again. "Whatever," I reply as I gingerly get out of bed.

I put the phone on speaker as I walk into my bathroom. I strip down and throw my pajamas into my hamper next to the doorway, hoping that the hot water will melt away my migraine. About twenty minutes later, I step out of the shower, but instead of the water melting away my migraine, it seems to have only made it stronger. I look at my phone, Jared hasn't hung up yet.

"Hey, Jared?" I ask softly, my head pounding very hard.

"Yes?"

"I'm gonna need you to pick me up." suddenly feeling very nuisance.

"Why?" He asks confused. He's the newest member in the squad, only been here about a month so he has no idea that migraines are a common recurrence for me.

"I've got a migraine and don't think I'll be able to drive," I state simply.

"Oh. Okay."

"Have one of the other guys with you too. They'll be able to direct you to my house." The other reason why I had him bring one of the others is that walking around becomes very difficult for me when I have a migraine.

"Okay. I'll be there soon."

I set the phone back on the bathroom counter. I slip into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. I put on my Nike sneakers, grab my phone, keys, and purse. Before I stumble outside and lock the front door, I put my agency issued gun in the holster and attach the holster to my waistband doing the same for my badge. Then I sit on my front steps and wait.

About ten minutes later, I see Jared's car pull up to the front of my house. I see Anthony get out of the passenger seat and make his way up the sidewalk leading to my front door. He smiles at me and silently holds out his hand. He has fair skin and is 6'1". He has dark brown hair and eyes and an athletic build. I put my hand in his outstretched one and he puts my arm around his shoulder. We then proceed to walk to the car. He opens the back driver side door and helps me in. When Anthony gets in the passenger seat again, Jared pulls the car away from my house. My eyes close without my knowing and what feels like twenty seconds later, I feel Jared trying to shake me awake. He gives up and the next thing I hear is an air horn blasting in my ear.

"Aaaahhh!!!" I scream. I glare at him as he is laughing. "That wasn't funny," I said, "I should have you demoted for that." That shut him up real quick.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "I just couldn't resist."

I shake my head and gingerly step out of the car. I walk over to where my squad is waiting for us. "What have we got?" I ask as I pull on a pair of latex gloves.

"It ain't good, Hickory," Brayden says to me shaking his head. Brayden has brown skin and mind blowing green eyes. He is 5'7" and has an athletic build.

I turn my head and look over at where the family is standing. The victim's fiancee and her mother are hugging each other tightly, each looking for support in the other. I turn to Anthony. "Why don't you take the family to the station. Inform the chief that this has become my case, seeing as this person makes number five on the killer's list." He nods and walks toward the family. I watch them for a moment before turning back to the others. "Wait until the family is gone. I don't want them to see what is under the sheet." They all nod understandingly.

When Anthony drives away with the victim's family in tow, I finally give the signal for them to remove the sheet. And what I see, makes me physically sick. Because now I know that this is the case that I will never be able to forget.