My loneliness stabbed at my heart like a thousand needles determined to bleed me dry. I am sat once again in the bar by myself contemplating my demise. My therapist seemed too positive, when clearly my outlook was dire.
I had no wife or children despite numerous tries and failures. My first wife said my job was more important. My second wife ended up with my ex best friend and my girlfriend could not understand my feelings and left.
I pick up my glass and shake the whisky, looking at my reflection in the bottom of the glass as I drink the whisky, wishing I was a different person, someone without demons.
"Hey, you were on TV talking about that killer," some stranger yells at me across the bar. I choose to ignore it and order another whisky as my first is empty. That case is finally over. My whisky appears in front of me. I drink too much but then so would you if you had to deal with twisted and sick serial killers all day.
I admit in the beginning, I found the work interesting and rewarding, but then there was that case that caused me to lose sleep, bring my work home, well it still haunts me. It lost me not only my sanity but my first wife.
This guy was killing and raping young girls. He killed them, then got sexual gratification from it. When we caught him, his death toll had reached nine. I had dealt with every crime scene seeing the blood everywhere tainting everything even me. The night we caught him, I started to drink. And I am still drinking.
I look up and see a pretty woman. I smile hoping for company. Her look tells me no. Another rejection. Another whisky.
An hour later, I am still here. I stopped counting at whisky number five. It time to go home but I don't want to go back to an empty house. Maybe a paid girl might help but I doubt it. My vision is blurred and I must get home.
I stagger out the bar door to the parking lot. I try to figure the way home but I am unsure of where I am. I hear footsteps close behind me and turn. A jagged knife slashes my throat. I grasp at it hoping for it to stop, but my thick blood continues to ooze from the wound and between my fingers. I drop to my knees then onto the concrete. I remember a voice, a voice that said:
"I am the new serial killer and I am saving you from the horror of it and your pitiful life. Just because you catch us does not mean you cannot become a victim as well. You are my victim number one and there will be more."