The Universe's Mixer

There was a pile of new work on his desk when he went in to work. He didn't really want to go in to work. He wanted to be out there, in the world, catching whoever it was. He had some ideas. Some of them didn't make sense, others did. Suspects in mind.

First he thought that it might be Lecter, but when he got the details of the case, it didn't feel right. It didn't dial him out entirely, it just put him at the back of the pile.

"Any word?" He asked the guy who had the desk next to his.

"Nothing since this morning."

"That could be a good thing."

"We recovered the bullet from Coffey. They're testing it now."

"Maybe it's the same person. Whoever did Coffey is doing these new murders."

"The last murder was done by a knife, Dexter."

And? Dexter wanted to ask. But, of course, the more that the police and forensics team kept to the idea that killers always used the same instruments, the safer he'd be.

"Yeah. You're right." He said instead and went to his desk. Jack Napier, he thought as he looked at the new file. How do I know that name?

The last thing Malcolm--otherwise known as The Mighty Monarch--remembered was falling asleep next to his pookums. People were seriously not kidding when they talked about how awesome newlywed sex was. And now that they were living apart from the henchmen, they didn't have to worry about anyone knocking on the door in the middle of the night wanting the keys to the kitchen for a glass of milk, or for him to check their dormitories for tarantulas. They'd never been the same since the little buggers had hidden themselves in the air ducts during a trip to the Amazon the year before.

One of the many reasons he could never figure out why on Earth anyone would question Dr. Girlfriend...Wife...whatever...on her femininity was that luscious body of hers. He fell asleep after watching her in the dimness for a long time, and her sensuous, curvy frame was the last thing he laid eyes on.

Before waking up in a city park. In the nude. Covered in nothing more than a bedsheet.

( WHAT THE F- )

A new dawn.
A new day.

Only, it was Twilight.

The City spoke again and off to the streets again I went. Another chosen. Another task.

Would she struggle? Or go quietly into the night.

*blink* There she wasn't.

*blink* There she was.

There she sat, a vision of pink and blonde hair. It would have to be quick or she'd be gone, and that just could not be. The City required her, and the City would not be disappointed. Soft footsteps on the grass and then on the sidewalk and I approached the bench from behind.

The knife.... ah there i was, resting in my pocket, my hand tightened over the hilt and I stood behind, watching.

It would be quick. One fast slice over her throat. The blood would flow and clash against the bright pink of her outfit, marring her flawless perfect skin.

It would be beautiful.

Who: Lorne [Tag Fred!]
Where: The middle of the City
When: The day after Xanadu pulled her disappearing act.
What: Lorne is still looking for Bates Motel, hears about murders, and freaks out.


( In my own little corner, in my own little chair.. )