Face cut and bruised, dried blood at the nose and mouth, it revealed a heavy, constant beating.
Red lipstick smeared over swollen lips, as if the kiss had been forced.
Eyes wide open, filled with shock and horror.
The murder weapon -- a flower-printed scarf -- tied around the neck.
That once-perfect body covered in cuts and lacerations, centered around the abdomen.

What a sick fuck.

He was probably some momma's boy out playing... killing time. Someone who definitely liked inflicting pain on others. Someone who liked testing his victims to see just how much pain they could handle. Someone who loved to hear them scream, beg and plead for their life. Someone who loved power and control.

Choosing who should live or die.

He closed the notepad and removed his gaze from the formerly beautiful woman lying on the dirty hardwood floor. He'd been through this too many times... a dead body, a crime scene and a fucking psycho walking around without a conscience. Scanning the room for evidence, something in the trash caught his eye -- a photograph, ripped in half. Picking it up, he saw the smile of a dead woman. She was laughing, long golden hair falling over her face, her body held in stong arms. But held by who? On the floor next to the trashcan, he spotted the second half of the photograph. Swallowing hard against a suddenly dry throat, his eyes locked onto a very familiar face.

"What was she doing with him?"

He looked down at the lifeless body on the floor and his heart broke... again. Who was she? A hooker? A runaway? Someone he picked up and had his fun with?

No, it didn't fit his profile. Not mutilating young defenseless women. No... this was not his doing. Not his style.

Crouching down beside the body, he ran his hand over her eyes, closing them. It was then that he saw it, a black bag, hidden under the bed. Kneeling down, he pulled it out and began to rummage through it, taking out all sorts of women's items; mascara, lipstick, perfume of the expensive kind, tampons and a stack of pictures. Both of them... together. Smiling, happy, laughing, looking almost -- in love? He shook himself back to reality and pulled out her purse, flipping it open. His gaze shifted from the picture on the ID card to the Jane Doe on the floor.

"Jacqueline..."

*************

Chapter: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 (Incomplete)