Chapter 3Bodies aren’t fragile. Not in the way people think. Vince knows as intimately as he knows the nauseous rupture of his own cartilage under a fist that the body is a massive ode to resiliency, lifting bruises, knitting bone, sealing flesh. Too dedicated to bother with perfect stitching, unafraid to leave imprecise scars as testament to its efforts.
Their killer isn’t like that. The photos tell Vince as much. They’re not new photos, not particularly compelling or especially unique. Just detail shots close on the incisions in victim four’s chest, steady lines carving into warm red. Made distant and oddly commercial under the high gloss of the prints, the stark crime scene lighting.
Such careful cuts. Vince wonders how they practiced. If it was a side project, separate from what occu
