The Seed of a Murderer

There was a long ding dong sound which came from beyond outside the fenestella. It was the

sound of a long tower ticking to the time when birds started their daily sonata. To these sounds I

awoke. I am an investigator, Turner, the son of the most recent infamous murderer of our time.

Today I started another day of cat and mouse with my father but slightly different from the usual

bringing.

My most normal days which I had always conveyed consisted of waking up, putting on my

badge and taking a protein and energy booster on the side with high caffeinated coffee. Which I

followed with a long day of deciphering my father's murders, and finding out where he is hiding with

the usage of his murderous acts. After a long complication of interpreting helpful evidence to

educated and calculated assumptions, I go to the hospital to speak with my mother who is terribly ill

with late stage three stomach cancer. I did the first half of my daily routine except the afternoon ritual

because this day is the day history changed. I had caught him.

Once I got in my car I took a glance at the evidence from one of the most recent murders that

he exerted and compared it to the others. His killing method was rather notorious and overly

complicated for a fifty-year old. He started with electrocuting the body then suffocates the

person. He then carves out the bodies, digging out all the bones and internal organs and

lays out the bones and internal organs where they are made to be. However, the skin was not

seen anywhere. The body (rather the bones, ect.) was laid in the middle with a desk directly

behind the body with a pen pointing forward in the middle, and there was a piece of a paper under

the heart which looked it had wavy drawings on it. "There is something different about this one," I

thought as I gestured to the newest murder. Frustrated with misdirection, I started my car and drove

to my local Police office. Once I got inside the building, I was stopped by my partner, investigator

Shelie. Shelie inquired me to come follow her to our office. "He did it again," she stated as we fast

walked. My eyes widened when I saw the body familiar to the ones before. "I see it now!" I said as I

gather all the other evidence out and set it all aligned together. Every single time there was a murder

there was a desk, pen, and paper under the heart. The difference was the drawings under the heart,

the color of the pens and each of the victims health, and the heart was moved to the middle of the

bloodied bones of what used to be the living. I clipped the pictures of information to the crowded

evidence board and pointed out the drawings and the other differences as well. The drawings put

together made up a map. Each of them were different pieces to a map each under the heart in the

center of the chest. The center! He was in the heart, the center of the state! This is all too brilliant. In a

matter of seconds we gathered a dispatch to group at this location.