Diary of a Detective

Losing It

2/12/1997 10.05pm

Another murder - the fortune-teller butchered in her sleep. The wounds look the same as the earlier ones - deep, precise, intentional. This killer is clinical, not a single tendon out of place. Probably a psychopath. He knows what he's doing, and I'm getting worried. News of this has spread to the whole village, and it's causing quite a stir. I can't let this disrupt our lives.

I'll have to speed up questioning, I've already abandoned two other cases for this one. Catching this killer is top priority, before anyone else dies.

4/12/1997 11.13pm

I'm losing my mind. I forgot to write yesterday, I've been so busy I just fell asleep. Two more dead, both townsfolk. Every suspect I interrogate seems to have a solid alibi. No motives whatsoever, this killer is relentless. Striking only under cover of darkness, slipping out under my own nose,leaving not a trace. Everywhere I go I feel like I’m hitting a dead end, a brick wall. Hitting it with my pounding head. I can barely focus now. I can feel myself breaking.