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Realistic or Modern I'd Kill For You (Closed RP)

DrTrollinski

Don't let the name scare you.
Chapter One - Love Letters
1
My dear sweet, Jasmine,
You’ve been working out. I’ve noticed. If I’m the first to tell you that you have been looking great, then that’s a crime. It’s always noticeable in the face, and yours is quite hard not to notice in a crowd.

Stacks of gym attire was folded neatly on top of the coffee table. Yoga pants, running shirts, sports bras. There were even several pairs of running shoes placed neatly by next to several sets of weights, water bottle and much more.
The water bottle was currently being placed in an evidence bag to analyze the blood stains from the top of the lid dripping down. Typical assortment.

I understand that exercising and working on yourself takes time and commitment, also some coin to get what you need, so I have it all set for you. You only deserve the best and I hear this woman was formerly a yoga instructor. So you know these are best in quality clothes for your new life style.

Forensics were currently in the living room taking photographs of the victim. Her blue eyes were glossy, cloudy and more gray than actual color. It didn’t match the photographs on the windowsill that showed that once upon a time they were vibrant with life. Blue as the ocean itself was now nothing more than death and bleakness.
The woman on the carpet ironically was still wearing her gym outfit, bright pink sports bra splattered with brown dried blood, abs that women would kill for wasted away from lack of breathing and living. The shoelaces to her sneakers missing. Important? Who knew honestly. Maybe it was more important to focus on the gash on the head from a blunt weapon.
Probably heavier and thicker than a water bottle, but that’s all they had.

Remember, this is the year you get what you want. Never give up on New Year Resolutions. I look forward to seeing you in the park during your nightly runs.
All my love,
-XoXo

“Ma’am,” one of the forensics men said. “I’m going to need to take that letter in for evidence.”
Detective Frank Whitaker was also one of the first responders. A grizzly murder of a fairly average young woman - it may not have been anything out of the ordinary on your day-to-day, but the difference with this one was the reported love letter. That was certainly different.
Even more so because it was, presumably, addressed to his newly-assigned partner.
He was leaning over Jasmine’s shoulder, scanning the letter from top to bottom. He grumbled a few times throughout his reading, and at the end of it, all he had to offer was an arched brow and a scratch of his ungroomed facial hair.
He adjusted his hat and stepped back.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer, rook.” He said. “Any other circumstance? I’d tell ya’ to consider yourself lucky.” He teased, then winked as he got out a pair of latex gloves and slipped them onto either hand.
“May as well hand that over now. Take a picture of it first - or don’t. Up to you.” He said. “In the meantime…” He let out a heavy sigh as he knelt down beside the body. “Let’s see if we can find out a thing or two about our lucky lady.” He tilted his head, scanning over her. Certainly a very… Prehistoric approach. Getting clubbed over the head was no pleasant way to go.
When the call came in she had gone as fast as she could, well her and her partner. Partner and her were butting heads, polar opposites and both stubborn but it was moments like this that caused all the arguing and butting heads disappear. A woman’s life was gone. One that seemed to be vibrant but now cold and gone.
The dead woman on the floor wasn’t what held her attention at the moment, it was the letter currently in her hand. It was addressed to her. The levels of detail inside the letter caused her blood to turn cold and rock to form in the pit of her stomach. This person (she wasn’t going to assume it was a male because even females can do this, though it isn’t as common) knew that she was working out. When she was transferred to St. Louis to help in a serial killer she had gained a few pounds from all the take out.
This person knew that she was working out again. The more she read of the letter the more she lost the ability to breathe though she fought not to show it on the outside. She didn’t want her new partner and others around her to see how much this letter was getting to her.
The topper on the cake was the fact this person knew that she ran at night. What she didn’t understand was how this person knew her, knew where she ran and why they even cared? She hadn’t been in St. Louis long and hadn’t told, even her partner, that she was running in the park at night. The only reason she did run at night was because she was usually at the station early in the morning and didn’t get home until later. Summer in St. Louis is excruciatingly hot and humid so night time was a relief.
How did this person know? Why were they seemingly targeting her?
Taking out her phone she took a picture of the letter so that she can examine it further and let the CSU (crime scene unit) take it in to evidence. Maybe this person was dumb enough to leave a trace of themselves so they can capture them.
Forcing the emotions from her face she turned and looked at her partner, raising a brow.
“You know, partner, I don’t really find you very funny.”
“Join the club, sweetheart. Stand-up comedy never checked out.” He rubbed his jaw. He looked up at her, “Come on. Come take a look at this.” He said.
Once the letter was taken away and her phone put back in to her pocket she walked over to where her partner was and knelt by the body, careful not to disturb any of the evidence. She stared at the poor woman, mournful of the life taken before their time.
“This is like the other murders. The murderer must have seen her at the gym then followed her home. Why take her shoelaces though? That doesn’t make sense. There is a small sign of struggle, the broken fingernails on her right hand but it seems that it didn’t last long. He came in, she turned to fight but then he bashed her on the head and killed her. Old school. Maybe an older person? Maybe someone stuck in the past?” Jaz bit her lower lip as she scanned the woman’s body. “Woman alone. Working woman.”
“Either that, or this guy’s brutal technique is… Trademark.” He muttered. “Chances are she knew what was going on before she died. A hit over the head? Hit someone hard enough and they ain’t gonna’ be walking around. They just lie back and watch.” He said. “Chances are that’s what he did, at least that’s my bet. I mean…” He nodded down at the corpse. “She’s athletic enough. Knife, gun - either would be a lot easier than trying to get her over the head like that.”
He frowned.
Sighing softly she stood up and looked at her partner then looked around to observe the place.
“What do you think he is trying to do? Send a message? Is he doing this for fun? Is he taking revenge on someone in his past?” To catch a killer, she has found, you have to get in their head. You have to learn who they are, what their motive is. To get in the killers head. Think and act like them. Most people can’t handle it because of how hard it gets but that wasn’t her, she didn’t give up easily.
“Well, rook, that’s just it,” He rose up to his feet, too, adjusting the hat on his head. “We ain’t sure. Sending a message? Almost definitely.” He said. “As far as revenge? Well… So far, the only person I can sense he has something out for is…” He pointed a single finger at her for a split-second. “You.” He shrugged. “He knows your name, your plans… Probably much more than that - not to freak you out, of course.” He said. “You sure this ain’t a guy you locked up in the past, or… Shit, someone’s heart you broke in high school?” He asked.
He looked back down at the body.
“First place we can look is the gym. Sure, there’s a struggle. But for a hit over the head? Not enough of one. He either snuck up on her, or waited for the right time to surprise her - by that I mean he maybe knew her.” He scratched his beard. “It’d certainly explain a few things. The only thing it doesn’t explain is what his deal with you is.” He said, “This match the modus operandi of any scumbag you locked up back, uh…”
Shit, where did she transfer from again?
Nevermind.
“Back along the yellow brick road?”
That’d do.
“Detectives,” the same forensic man that needed the letter looked up at them. “I think you need to take a look at this.” He motioned both detectives to kneel down with him as the examined the body.
“See the coloration here,” He showed the discoloration in the arms, along with red marks that seemed to be on the back of the body. “This did not happen recently. Body has already started to decompose. If I had to guess she’s been dead three to four days. If not longer. There are freezer burns against her arms here if you pull the shirt more I bet you can find it everywhere. This was stored, and this was staged.”
To prove his point further he pulled the pants strap revealing tags on. “This wasn’t what she was wearing when she died. Maybe the bra, but this might not be her blood. We’ll have to get it tested.”
Frank stood there and watched as the forensic analyst explained to them what the situation was.
“Well, piss on me.” He grumbled, taking his hat off and holding it at his side. “Alright. Thanks. We’ll take a look around from here. You find anything else,” He pulled out a small card from his jacket pocket and handed it to him. “You give me a call - if we’re not still here, obviously.” He said. “Okay, rook…” He glanced around the room. “Let’s have a poke around her shit and see if we can find anything that links her to this sick bastard. I don’t like how picture-perfect he’s trying to make this.”

Chapter Two - You’re Looking for a Good time
1
Holly looked down at her phone sitting at her usual bar. Not hers, theirs. Their usual bar, their usual table. Two beers on coasters sat there alone, for her invisible friends.
Hah…
She picked the device up and quickly fired a text to her friend.
‘Not sure how I feel about you working with my brother.’
Crap, maybe that was immature. It was. But it was already out there in the universe. She fired another text rapidly.
‘I mean yeah, it’s great! He’s a great detective, you’ll learn a lot...but…’
She sent a picture of two empty glasses.
‘Now who do I drink with when the two of you are on adventures?’
Yeah, Holly felt satisfied about that. She wasn’t being petty. She knew she wasn’t. Her big brother was one of her bestfriends. If she was not spending time with Jasmine it was with him. Now she felt like a third wheel. Not even. A third wheel would be standing there wherever they were with them knowing what was going on.
But big brother made a big stink about sharing case work on investigations currently going on. So did Jasmine.
Great…
She was a third wheel to invisible friends. Holly picked up her double shot of rum and downed the glass. She sent her brother a text, showing a picture of her pouting her lip.
‘Gaspars is lonely without you singing duets with me :(
‘Karaoke night! You still have time!’
Fuck it...put a few more drinks in her and she’d get up on that stage and sing herself.
She got a text come through.
‘Gonna try and get to you soon sis sorry. Big thing going on with a case right now’
‘I promise I’ll get to you as soon as I can’
‘LAME!’
Well, maybe that was harsh. She sent a picture of a pile of dogs sleeping on top of one another. ‘Ok, not lame...just miss you guys.’
She received a picture from Frank of his cat (his family cat, that is) looking rather displeased. It took him about 45 seconds to figure out how to send a photo again, but he did it. It was his favorite picture of that cat.
‘I’ll be there asap I promise’


2
Precisely five shots more of rum and Holly was up on that mini platform, with a bar filled with seven people total, listening to her drunken rendition of ‘Another one bites the dust’. Holly was by far, not gifted with the talent of singing.
She was ok. Ok by...you didn’t want to claw your ears out of your skull listening to her but bad in the sense that you would probably constantly discourage her from going up there singing. She could match a tune, not carry one herself. Good luck getting her to stop. Gaspars was one of the only bars in their town that had karaoke, let alone the ability to do it every night.
Most patrons knew Holly Whitaker at this point so as they slowly applauded humoring the drunk girl dancing by herself on stage to Queen, they were probably hoping that it would appease her for now.
“THANK YOU EVERRRRBOOOODYYYY GOOD FIGHTS!” SHe cheered. “I mean good night! I don't want to fight any of you lovely people. You’re all amazing. Goodbye now..” She stumbled off the stage and frowned when she saw those two filled beers next to empty seats.
They could still come over...right?
Even if he was going to be late, Frank wasn’t a ‘cancel last-minute’ kinda’ guy, not by any means.
Her phone buzzed.
‘Hi Holly I think I might be a bit late tonight and I’m probably going to have to pick the kids up and bring them along with me. Hopefully see you soon, love Frank’
‘Dont lef them see me libe this. Durnk auntee.’ Was what he got back.
Frank hadn’t quite figured out that texting was a rather informal thing, and he probably never would - but that was okay. It was just what made Frank… Frank, y’know?
‘Drink some water, sis. They haven’t seen you in ages and I can’t exactly leave them all night haha. You’re fine’
Crap. She was fucked. They were going to see drunk auntie ready and in action. It was going to be a very awkward night brought up during Christmas family parties for years to come.
Before she got a chance to walk back over to her table, there was a man at the bottom of the steps up to the stage who put his hand out and stopped her from maybe (probably) toppling over.
“Careful, there.” He said.
She looked up to see the one and only Nathan Driscoll. He was a few years older than her; they ran into each other first a few years back, on the night of her 21st birthday at the bar Frank had taken her to celebrate at. The past few years had aged him fairly moderately; he looked older than his actual age of 28, that was for sure, but it was all for a good reason.
A couple of years ago, his fiancee was killed in a tragic - and rather gruesome - boating accident. Nathan had witnessed every moment of it, and he was quite literally the person who had to pick up all the pieces at the time.
Yeah, years of therapy and strong antidepressants tends to age you quite harshly.
“There’s a sight for sore eyes.” He teased, moving his hand away. “Fancy running into you here, right?” He smiled.
“Guuuuitarrrr man!” Holly chirped. She stumbled forward trying to take one of the regular’s hands only to fall off the stage and land right into him. She laughed hysterically seeing that one of her shoes was still on the stage. “Noooobody claim that. That’s mine. My shoes. I got em at Marshalls on sale so you can get em on sale too. Marshalls is the best clothing store people!”
No one really seemed to care about Marshalls or its discounted clothes, but Holly felt the need to declare it out into the world. “I got all thiiiiis,” She made a motion to her whole body as she was drunkenly in Nathan...he smelled nice. “At Marshalls...but my body...that was God. God and parents did that one.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it.” He smiled. “Come on…” He lead her to the front of the stage and picked up the shoe from it. He put it on the floor in front of her. “Shoe back on. Don’t want to be losing a shoe from Marshalls discounted range.” He said.
“I got them for five dollars. Just five. That’s this many.” She was holding up both hands and laughed. “Wait that’s ten dollars!”
“Well, that’s really something.” He laughed.
He looked over at the empty table and the untouched drinks.
“Let me guess…” He put a finger on his chin for only a split-second. “Police stuff?”
Holly’s eyes lazily followed Nathan’s fingers making their way to the table. She wasn’t sure if the owners were aware but they must have built the bar on a very slanted ground. Everything was tipped and spinning. She snorted a laugh. “Hoooow’d you know?”
“Just a hunch.”
She booped his nose just then. “You sing….I like the songs you pick. They are very sad...but it’s good to feel sad. What are you,” she hiccupped. “Singing tonight?”
“I am.” He smiled, “After I’ve got you sat down with some water.” He said, “Maybe go easy on the booze, hey?” He said, and he lead her to the table and sat her down there. “Wait here.”
“I gots to sober up...my nephew and niece are coming and booze smells like me right now.” Holly stumbled staring absently at the ceiling, noticing all the twinkly lights that swayed, she herself swaying as she enjoyed the feeling. “Actually...I got drunk with my uncles all the time when I was fourteen and that was awesome. They were the cool uncles. My brothers were there too. I wasn’t alone with just my uncles getting drunk that sounds super creepy.”
“Aren’t your nephew and niece like… 8 and 9, or something?” He asked.
Not quite, but, they were indeed young. They weren’t old enough to be getting drunk with their aunt.
“I’ll get you sobered up, don’t worry. We’ve got some time, I hope.”
She paused her eyes going wide. “Oh God...do people really think like that all the time? Ewww why is that a thing to worry about? How is it that big? Brother, cop, bestfriend cop...I know too many stories. So many.” Holly then snorted. “The ones they tell me anyways. They get to live exciting lives.”
“I can’t say that’s what I was thinking, Holly. But I feel you.” He nodded and chuckled.
He vanished for a couple of minutes and came back with a big glass of water with ice. He put it in front of her, and dropped a straw in the top. He pulled a chair over and sat beside her, “Drink that, Holly.” He said. “It’ll straighten you out a bit.” He said. “You doing okay?”
Holly shrugged. “I’m ok. Just I don’t know...you ever get that feeling that you like your life and you like what you do, you don’t want that to change. Cause change sucks. It really does, it just makes you sad and empty inside cause you’re not quite the same before the change right? But everyone changes and people go. And since you like it here you don’t change and soon they’ll go away and then you’re just alone.”
She sipped her water. “Weird, right?”
Nathan stopped and sat back.
Well, holy shit.
He rubbed his head.
“Yeah, I get you.” He nodded. “Well…” He sighed. “Yeah. Change sucks.” He nodded, “I can’t disagree with you there. Sometimes change really… Breaks us. But it’s how we change to deal with that change that I think is the most important. Like people leaving. You change a lot, but the way you change… It helps you deal with the change that put you there in the first place? You know what I mean?” He asked.
He put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re going to end up crying if you talk about all this now. You know that, don’t you?” He asked. “People come and go - but I don’t think you can ever be truly alone, Holly.” He said. “Definitely not you, at least.” He smiled and gently poked her side.

3
Jaz got the text message from her only and best friend about meeting at the bar. She assumed that her partner got the same message since, frustratingly, he was her friends brother. It wasn’t enough she got to see him at work but most of the time he was there when her and Holly were out and about. There were times, if she wasn’t a cop and he wasn’t her partner, she might not be as polite to him sometimes.
Thankfully Jaz didn’t live that far away from the station or the bar, so she ran home and changed. All the while, stripping from her work clothes and throwing it instantly into the washer, she couldn’t get that letter out of her head.
Who was killing these women? Why were they killing the women? Why did they all of a sudden start targeting her? What changed? And why her?
After cleaning up she let her long hair down, she grabbed her jacket and keys making sure to lock the door behind her.
In her car she drove to the bar but she was still on autopilot. All she could think about was that stupid letter. It was going to drive her crazy. It didn’t make sense why they would do this, what made her special. She knew she was going to have to change her routine. No running in the same place at the same time. She would have to find a new route, she would have to do it at a different time. She wouldn’t give that person an opportunity to find her or watch her.
Once she pulled in to the bar she pulled out her phone and looked at the letter. She read it over and over again, slowly and then quickly, trying to find if she missed something. Maybe there was a clue inside of this letter she missed. There had to be something. Thinking that a serial killer her and her partner were hunting was watching her, and she didn’t know what to do.
While obsessing over the letter she lost track of time, sitting in her car, staring at it. This letter was going to haunt her dreams and waking time.

4
There she was, on the stage, singing a song drunkenly. She might not be the next Mariah Carey but she was good enough for him. They like to say love is blind. He must be the most blind man on the face of the planet because he was madly, head over heels in love with Holly.
James got out of his chair and was making his way over to her when he paused. He saw how drunk she was and wanted to help, let her know that he was here for her, but someone else beat him to it. Deep in the pit of his stomach a low fire of rage and jealousy burned. He wanted to kill that man. Who did he think he was touching her? Did he not see that he wasn’t right? It was him who belonged with her.
Not wanting to cause a scene he walked over to the bar and ordered himself a soda. He wanted to be sober to be able to drive. Come hell or high water, he was going to do his damndest to take her home. He needed to talk to her, he WANTED to talk to her. The love for her he felt was unlike anything he had ever known before. He felt that if he didn’t have her he would lose himself.
So for now, he would sit and watch. His time would come. Patience is a practice hard won but he would do it. For Holly. He would do anything for Holly.
 

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