CRIME BOOK 101

Case 00

"Clang"

The sound of the metal door grinding against the frigid floor echoed through the confined space.

In the dimly lit and chilly room, measuring three by three with barely any visible light, only a faint glow seeped in through the barred holes near the ceiling. This was one of the isolation cells in a highly secure prison, designed to keep the most dangerous individuals away from society.

The warden pushed open the door and stepped inside. There sat the prisoner, handcuffed in a corner. Despite the maximum security, this person was kept secluded from the lights and commotion, still bound by handcuffs.

A sneer could be heard from the figure sitting in the light as two officers pulled him, still shackled, out of the room. "Let’s go!"

The prison was carefully designed to prevent any escape attempts, with multiple layers of security guards and extensive CCTV surveillance.

That afternoon, Dakota was accompanied by a man in his fifties, his face covered in stubble from not shaving for a few days. He was Thomas, another senior detective working in the special crimes unit of division three. The two waited in a small room designated for visitors of high-profile inmates, a closed-off space with several guards around and surveillance cameras on the ceiling to prevent any unfortunate incidents.

As the door swung open, Dakota's attention shifted, and the person the had been anticipating finally arrived. Dakota Sorenson, an impressive young man at the age of only twenty-three, had earned significant trust as a special consultant for the crime unit, and for good reason. Despite his youth, he was already a respected professor at a prestigious university and had astonishingly solved a murder case that had occurred at the same college he attended three years earlier.

He wasn't a bookworm, if that's what one would think about someone with a professor's title at a young age. He had a tall, athletic build, engaged in a bit of sports, and a sweet, handsome face like a model, with deep blue hazel eyes akin to vast oceans and plump, peachy lips adding to his charm. Physically, no one would suspect he had a complex mind capable of delving into the thoughts of everyone he saw with that sharp eyes behind his clear rimless eyes glasses, particularly the psychopaths he often encountered. Like the one they would meet today.

A man with dark, deep eyes, exuding an aura like black smoke from a demon enveloping him. You didn’t need an expert to know that this man, is totally different from the others. Just from the gesture, the smirk and eyes alone, you know, he’s not someone you often meet passing by in the street.

The man grinned, looking at Dakota standing in front of him with gleaming eyes. 

"Hey, what a perfect creature, almost as if heaven itself crafted you, has anyone ever told you that? Professor Dakota Sorenson?" They had met before when the man was interrogated at headquarters.

Thomas straightened in his seat. 

The guy before him, Erick Carter, was a psychopath, or, he can be a poet too with that cheesy arranged words come from his blacked lips and teeth. He had been captured two months ago, or did he intentionally want to be caught? It was strange; the man had vanished after committing one heinous murder one after another, only to suddenly reappear and not resist when apprehended. He smiles like he was winning a gold medal when the cops arrest him, intentionally given that intimidating look to the media.

His victims numbered five, all young women with long hair and heavy makeup. He targeted women who were alone at night, abducting them for a day and killing them the next, never keeping them for more than two days. Each victim bore different wounds, but the souvenirs he left on the corpses marked him as a serial killer wanting recognition. He had no qualms about killing in unimaginable ways, even while his victims were still alive, stabbing them in their genitals without blinking until they died in horrific conditions. 

And he felt no remorse. At all.

Dakota leaned closer to the table. His arrival that afternoon was nothing less than an observation of how a seemingly normal guy could possess such a dark soul, and this man might have answers to his questions about the strange and brutal cases that had been spreading lately. He pushed several photos laid out on the table in front of Erick.

For a moment, Erick smirked, recognizing Dakota's familiar face. "Hey, Professor, why don't we start with some coffee, relax a bit, engage in small talk? By the way, I couldn't help but notice, up close, that you possess these incredibly gorgeous gray-blue eyes. So captivating..."

Thomas smirk. This man is really something. The psychopath who talk mannerly.

Thomas crossed his arms over his chest.  “Cut the crab, young man.”

"You might have killed five people, but do you know what? You’re nobody compared to what this guy has done." he added.

Hearing that, the smirk on Erick's face vanished, replaced by a serious expression with sharp eyes. This man know so well how to control his expression, every details of it. Thomas stared at him for a long moment until Erick leaned in to look at the photos in front of him.

The man examined the pictures closely—some were of murder victims, women posed naked against the wall, and several other victims, even a child. Erick smirked again. "Pff, how can he be better than me? He’s just attention seeker, an ordinary guy with nothing better to do, how can you compare me with him, ridiculous."

Dakota lowered his head, watching the change in Erick's expression closely. It was no secret that the man was trying to suppress his emotions; he was biting his nails. Dakota slid the stack of photos back toward him. 

"Just like you, he thirsts for attention," Dakota replied calmly.

Erick's smile grew unnervingly ugly. Leaning leisurely to the chair. Smile so wide.

“I'm not seeking attention, but everyone's eyes are on me. I'm not some amateur like those others," he asserted.

"He’s an ordinary guy, I’ll admit that, though he’s very similar to you. But he’s missing a few details. Still, he’s incredibly consistent. If we didn’t know you’ve been locked up here for two months, we might conclude that the perpetrator could be you."

Erick looked at Dakota, as if the young professor was mocking him. He stood up quickly, ready to lunge at Dakota, if not for the handcuffs locked to the table holding him back. "He’s nothing compared to me!"

The officers swiftly pulled Erick back and forcing him to sit back down. "Sit down!"

Dakota smiled, straightened up, and tucked the photo sheet into his bag. Thomas leaned forward in his seat.  

"You know, Erick, your way of operating is no longer a secret. Someone might be intentionally pretending to be you, maybe as a fan, or someone trying to discredit you. This person seems to be purposefully changing certain aspects of the acts as if they think you're not perfect, and so they don't feel the need to follow your methods. It's improvisation on their part."

Erick held his breath, lowered his chest, and felt his emotions rising. He quickly changed his facial expression, which Dakota noticed right away. He raised an eyebrow, confidently looking at Thomas and Dakota, his upper lip slightly curled as if to belittle the profiler at that moment. The man calmly leaned back against his chair.  

"Heh."  

Dakota realized this and knew he couldn’t lose to him. He picked up his bag and got ready to leave.  

"Thomas looks like our business here is done here; remember we have another case to handle."  said Dakota.

Thomas turned quickly, glancing at Dakota for a moment as if the young man was giving him a signal, and he caught on fast.  

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that."  

The man immediately got up from his seat and followed Dakota.  

"Ugh, sitting too long is killing my back." 

~~~~~~

Life is uncertain, but death is, to live is hard, but to take the lives, it wasn't, the fun just begins when you imagine how the living creature in front of you loses his soul, second, by second, until it stops, and your heart beating so fast as you enjoying it, even the loudest scream you can hear, was gone, and, realize, okay, that's is not fun anymore, you need to start it all over again.

~~~ Erick Carter ~~