The Stalker
He realised what this meant. He knew there was no where he could hide. His breathing grew faster as he heard the footsteps grow closer. His breath hitched when he saw the handle on the door turn. He quieted himself and moved further into the closet.
"I knew you were in here before you even made a noise."
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Daniel threw his papers down onto the desk when he entered the office. He had stayed up late last night trying to pinpoint where and when the perp was going to strike.
"Hey Daniel. Man you look like you got hit by a bus." He looked up. Madeline Smith, his partner in crime was standing in front of him holding two coffees in her hand. He shrugged and sent a tired smile, taking one of the coffees with a tip of the head with silent thanks.
"It was a tough night. This guy is clever. He never stays in the type, yet he always knows what I'm going to do next. It's infuriating." he said, running a hand through his hair and taking a sip. Madeline thinned out her mouth into a straight line. She sighed.
"We just have to keep working on it then. Come on, the captain wants all of Unit Alpha in the conference room." He waved a hand as she walked off. He just wanted to lay his head on the desk, but, duty calls.
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"I called your unit here so that we can come up with a plan to trace the killer. We need to be able to find a pattern in this somehow." Their captain, Jose Figueroa, told them. Daniel rubbed his face in his hands.
"Daniel, you got anything?" He looked at Jose.
"I couldn't find a clue. I was up till wee hours in the morning, trying to pinpoint a pattern or a rhythm or something to see what's his problem, but I got nothing. It's as if he knows what we're thinking. He's too random." he reported tired. Jose bit his lip.
"Why don't you head home, you look exhausted." Daniel shook his head.
"I'm sorry sir, but you need everyone on this. And I'd like to stay." Jose shook his head.
"Alright, dismissed." They walked out of the room. Danny walked to his desk. He then stopped dead in his tracts. Right in the middle of his desk. A photo of him. A giant red circle around his face. And written in huge black blocky letters, were the words:
'I'm coming to get you, Danny ♥'
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"Danny! Daniel!" he snapped open his eyes and jumped back, hitting his head on the desk. The man calling his name, John Rogers, looked at him worried.
"What happened to you? You just dropped to the ground and began shaking. Was- was it another panic attack?" he asked in a whispered voice. Danny tried to calm his breathing. It was especially erratic. He began breathing normal again as he sat up, running both hands through his hair.
"N- No no it was nothing, I have- can you tell boss I have to go?" John nodded confused.
"Danny, what's wrong-"
"I just have to go."
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He closed his door and locked it before letting his body hit the couch in exhaustion. He hadn't had a panic attack that bad in years. He knew who had put the picture of him on his desk. it was the same person that had killed his family all those years ago. The man that had...
The Stalker was what he called himself. He would chase after people for months, years at a time, until he would strike. That's why his killings were so untraceable. He would take a long time or a short time, and when the police finally found his base, he would be gone, onto his next victim. He threw his shoes against the wall.
