SPLATTER (draft)

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It's been almost a whole month, yet you are everywhere. You are more popular and famous in death, than you probably would've been had you lived... You always were one for flair. The caramel-brown haired young woman thought as she walked down the street across the Bij Theatre, the Box Office where Kiera had been found murdered full of flowers and photographs.

A huge 'YOU WON'T BE FORGOTTEN' banner hung haphazardly from it's perch upon the booth. She had seen many people stop by to drop things off, to pray, to say "I cannot believe it, it's so horrible!" Every day or two the theatre workers would take down some of the tribute items, mainly bulky things such as the banner or dead wreaths, however they started to stop caring. It made them iconic, put them on the map.

Sickos.

That was her girlfriend who had been found dead, propped against the Box Office Booth.

Sighing loudly she wrapped her long coat more tightly around herself, it was chilly and it had started to sprinkle. She loved this sort of weather, even if she was under dressed and had no umbrella with her. It's not like she cared if her hair got wet, it would dry off on it's own, same as her clothes. As long as she was not drenched, and she could buy a warm drink at a coffee shop, she did not mind at all. It also meant less people on the street to bump into. It was too hard to see people who knew she'd been dating Kiera and deal with the "How are you holding up?" questions, the call me's, the forced hugs. Kiera was the only one she let touch her, she did not like when people seemed to not care about personal space. It was something Kiera would tease her about, meanwhile she'd tell Kiera that is was not all bad; meant she only let herself be touched by those extraordinary. Those were the good days, before the fighting and the break ups, the tearful phone calls and angry texts, the apologetic voicemail.

Before Kiera was found dead.

"Who is insane enough to go on this murder spree and make a show out of it, why couldn't they just dump the bodies in the river or something? The old railroad tracks don't get much visitors... Why the big display?" Amanda questioned to no one in particular, her voice soft and barely a mumble that made little wisps of fog appear in front of her. She knew the Detectives had no leads or idea what they were dealing with. The Reporters were useless with nothing to sniff out. The news only repeated old clips of the victims either mid performance, at a school game, or any thing that showed how 'good' they were and undeserving of their deaths. It was too much, she had not turned on the television since Kiera was found and she wasn't going to any time soon.

Perhaps she could go bother the Precinct as she had last week. Those idiots dared hold her for over ten hours to see if she'd confessed to the crime. They stated she had every reason to be upset with Kiera and want her hurt, that she had been described as 'unstable' and 'possessive' by Kiera's peers, though what did they know? So now she made it her job to go bug them from time to time to waste their time, just like they wasted hers. Not having enough proof she was innocent until she was a sobbing mess, unable to say her beloved's name without fresh tears.

Arriving at the Precinct she whistled softly as she raised her eyebrows at the scene before her. Clearly all the big shots were here and having some fun without her. "Lucky me, do I get first row seats to this impromptu press conference? Shall I grab a seat as we rehash the near non-existent clues as to the sick bastard who is killing half the town, one person per week?" She questioned with a cold smirk, eyes frozen over since she would not let anyone see her vulnerable or hurt. The pigs that worked on the case had already seen her break down once, never would she let them see that again.

"Why hello, your light bulb moment seems important. I'm no Journalist or News Reporter, however it was my girlfriend who was left mutilated at the theatre. I have a right to know any leads." Amanda crossed her arms tightly, to show she wouldn't budge. She was anxious, awfully so, that the possible lead would only make her feel worse about the whole situation. What if it was one of Kiera's coworkers? Her long term ex-boyfriend? What if it was someone she knew? Shaking her head, a look of genuine pain crossed her features whilst she blinked rapidly. "It just isn't right she was killed that way. That she was murdered."

Taking a deep breath she pushed the oncoming emotion down, this was neither the time nor place. "Do you think we will have to deal with another murder in the upcoming weeks, another cruel killing? Is it over now that a Detective from your own Precinct was killed, they can't get any more personal than that." She questioned.

It was funny she was so nosy but never considered being in Journalism or News Casting. It just wasn't her thing, even when she was being bombarded by interviews after what happened to Kiera she turned them all away. The only time she spoke to one was to tell them to go make themselves useful and treat her to lunch, not in the mood after work to deal with their hounding. Since then they slowly tricked away until now she was in the past. The Coach, The Detective, they were much more important community members with families that were in mourning. Even the Editor in Chief of the Gazette was more important than she was, and that was okay, because this was not attention she wanted.

Not when the attention could be used to find the killer.