MM ~ It's you, isn't it? (Aeon)
Dexter had two people on his list.
Two people who he knew it could be. Three, if he included himself, and he couldn't really take himself off that list yet, because of the recent dealings with that fucking knife. There was no way he could be absolutely sure that he wasn't blacking out and doing these things, except for the fact that this wasn't really his style, and according to his timecard, he'd been at work for at least one of the killings.
That, and he'd never harm an animal.
One of the dead was a cat.
One of the people was in the hospital, impossible to get to. Dexter wouldn't be able to get his hands on Hannibal Lecter until the kid walked outside. In the mean time, he was going to have a conversation with the other.
He'd met her only once. But he'd known then what she was. Mostly because she'd told him. These murders needed to stop, one way or the other.
Dexter stalked her through the streets, half sure that she knew he was there. It didn't matter though, if she did or not. She would slip up eventually, and that's when he'd be there, ready.
Of course, it took her quite a while to slip. To become too comfortable with her surroundings. To let her guard down. It happened inside of an apartment. She stopped being Super Spy Girl and started acting like she belonged where she was. Which meant this was likely her home. Or the home of somebody she knew very well. He climbed in through a back window and moved through the space with absolutely no sound. He was hunting.
She passed by and it was perfection. She was in his arms, a twitch and pressure would stop her ability to breathe and blood flow to her brain. He had his own arm caught with his hand, and was limber enough to have a needle just barely breaking the skin at the same time.
"What are you doing?" His voice was low, close to her ear. After he said it, he realized he might not have been entirely clear in his meaning.