The machines around him were clunking and clattering. The sterile smell entered his nostrils and penetrated his brain. Causing him to feel nauseous. He reached out and grabbed the cardboard bowl he had been giving all three officers, looking away from this ageing, coughing man.
The three officers have been summoned. Two were part of the Dallas police department and the other was from the metropolitan police department, All three had come on a promise of big news. They had been promised a confession and that's what they had right in front of them. Penned in a child's scribble, barely legible. But still a confession. The man in front of them was the butcher of Bradbury lane. The man who was in his late 50’s , dark brown hair, pale skin. Sharp thang like teeth. Had just confessed to killing over ten prostitutes, all who worked on the same street. He was a gruesome psychic who liked to stalk the ladies of the night. He liked to hunt them down and cut their throat. He put them through a disturbing ritual of some kind of mix between satanism and talking to god himself.
He cut up the body in precise and efficient cuts. Placing each part in a circle around a cross. His crimes were so horrible that even the newspapers wouldn't show crime scene Photos.
One of the men sitting there witnessing the confessions was DI taylor. He had been chasing this bastard for years. Fixated on him. The crimes took place between ninty ninety and the beginning of the new millenia. DI Taylor had been one of the first on the scene to see the horror, and after the very...