The devil I know

ISABELLA The harsh clatter of the garbage truck outside jarred me from a restless sleep. The noise was bad enough, but the foul odor wafting into my office through the open window made it worse. My eyes fluttered open, and I groaned as I inhaled the stench, my nose wrinkling in disgust. Groggily, I dragged myself from the chair, shutting the window with a heavy sigh. Sleep had not come easily, and when it finally did, it brought with it another terrible migraine. I stretched, trying to shake off the lingering unease, and headed to the coffee machine. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as I poured myself a cup, the warmth of the mug a small comfort against the cold dread that settled in my stomach. Returning to my desk, I glanced at the paperwork strewn across it. The stack of unfinished case files on my desk seemed to grow taller by the day. As I sipped my coffee, I started flipping through one of them when my phone buzzed, breaking my concentration. It was a text from Luke, my husband. "Babe, I’ll be home late. I have some meetings." "Okay," I replied, staring at the screen for a moment longer before setting the phone aside. Still staring at the text, my receptionist called out to me. "I think you need to take this, Chief," Josh, the receptionist, said. "Put them through," I replied, bracing myself for whatever came. “Uh-Uhm-Uhmm… I-I just saw a dead body on my way home,” a young woman stuttered on the other end of the line, her voice trembling with fear. “Where are you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as I motioned for Josh to trace the call. After a few tense moments, we had her location, and my team and I rushed to the scene. The young girl who had called was still there, frozen in shock. One of the officers guided her to the police van where she could be attended to while we assessed the situation. The victim’s body lay on the cold ground, blood pooling around her. The sight was gruesome, and I felt a pang of recognition as I knelt beside her. “She was killed not long ago. The blood hasn’t dried yet,” one of the officers noted grimly. I studied the girl’s face, and then it hit me— Ema. I had met her before when she came to report her abusive father. She had been so scared, so vulnerable. And now she was gone. I gave the order for photos to be taken and evidence to be collected. This was no ordinary murder— the brutality of it, the way her hair had been cut, it all pointed to something far more sinister. My thoughts were racing as we headed back to the station. I texted Luke to let him know I’d be late, not wanting him to worry. There was one more stop I needed to make before the night was over. Ema’s father was in a detention center, still awaiting trial. I wanted to be the one to break the news to him. It wasn’t a duty I relished, but it was one I felt obligated to fulfill. I arrived at the detention center alone, showing my badge to the receptionist. “I’m here to see Rod Woods,” I said, trying to keep the fatigue out of my voice. She typed his name into her system, and I looked around, taking in the bleak surroundings. “He’s not here anymore,” she said after a moment. “What do you mean?” I asked, my stomach dropping. “He escaped a week ago,” she replied, her tone indifferent. “How could you lose a prisoner and not find him?” I demanded, my frustration mounting. “We didn’t have the available resources,” she said with a shrug. I was stunned. How could such incompetence go unnoticed? But this was more than just a bureaucratic failure— this was a lead. Rod Woods had just become suspect number one. As I returned to the station, my mind was racing. Ema’s death had been horrific, but it might also be the key to unraveling a much larger mystery. I knew there was more to this than met the eye, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it, no matter the cost. ***************************************************************************** The devil was never far from the surface. He felt a grim satisfaction as he recalled Ema’s final moments. Her screams still echoed in his mind, a twisted symphony that brought a smug smile to his lips. She had brought her fate upon herself, he told himself, trying to justify the monstrous act. Why had she looked at him like that, whistled at him in such a suggestive way? It was her fault. But even as he walked home, savoring the cool breeze and the clear sky, He knew the satisfaction would not last. It never did. Soon, he would need to feel that rush again, to take another life. He had stopped by Thatcher Woods to relieve himself when he heard the whistling. His heart skipped a beat as he looked up and saw Ema approaching, her blue eyes fixed on him. "You're such a sexy man, too bad you're married," she purred, her gaze lingering on him in a way that made his skin crawl. He warned her to stop, to leave him alone, but she only smiled, stepping closer. His pulse quickened, and before he knew what he was doing, he had dragged her into the woods. She thought they were about to have s*x, but he had something far more sinister in mind. He watched as the life drained from her eyes, her sobs fading into silence as he tightened his grip around her throat. Her blonde hair fell to the ground in a heap as he cut it off, a trophy to add to his growing collection. Unlike his first kill, this one felt justified. She had been nasty, insolent. She deserved it.