I Can Hear a Serial Killer's Voice in My Head

Chapter 37: The Fifth Case (2)

Intrigued by Bundy's claims, I lean in closer, my voice low and urgent. "Alright, Bundy, I'll bite. What are these hints you've picked up on?"

Bundy's voice takes on a tone of smug satisfaction as he begins to explain. "First of all, this murderer must have been committing crimes since a young age. The way they brutally beat their victims to death indicates that the urge to kill is deeply rooted within them."

I frown, trying to follow Bundy's logic. "What makes you so sure about that?"

"Because I have that same urge inside me," Bundy replies, his voice almost wistful. "It's a trait that many serial killers share. The way this murderer savored the process of watching their victims die, the sheer brutality of it all... that kind of compulsion is difficult to hide. I guarantee you that if you dig deep enough, you'll find a history of criminal behavior dating back to their youth."

I feel a chill run down my spine at Bundy's words, but I push forward, determined to uncover every possible lead. "You said there were two hints. What's the second one?"

Bundy chuckles, a sound that seems to echo in my mind. "The fact that the killer stole jewelry from the victims suggests that there are actually two criminals working together. Think about it - serial killers are rarely interested in money or material possessions. Their primary drive is the thrill of the kill itself."

I nod slowly, starting to see the pieces fall into place. "So you're saying that if their main goal was theft, they wouldn't have needed to beat the victims so brutally?"

"Exactly," Bundy confirms. "There's likely a team at work here - one who kills for the sheer pleasure of it, and another who takes the valuables and fences them on the black market. It's a classic partnership, one that allows each member to indulge their own twisted desires."

I lean back in my chair, my mind racing with the implications of Bundy's insights. I know that I'll need to tread carefully, to verify every lead and piece of evidence before presenting my theories to the rest of the team. But I also know that Bundy's unique perspective, as twisted as it may be, could be the key to cracking this case wide open.

As I sit at my desk, my mind racing with the implications of Bundy's insights, a sudden commotion in the office snaps me back to reality. I look up to see Inspector Han striding towards me, his face grim and his eyes filled with a sense of urgency.

"We've got another one," he says, his voice tight with tension. "An old couple and their housekeeper, all beaten to death in their home. It looks like the same killer as before."

I feel a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach as I take in Han's words. Another brutal murder, more innocent lives lost. It's a stark reminder of the stakes we're dealing with, the evil that we're up against.

As I follow Han to the briefing room, I can't help but mull over what Bundy told me. The idea of a team of killers working together, each with their own twisted motives and desires, is a chilling thought. But it also makes a certain kind of sense, given the pattern of the crimes.

In the briefing room, the rest of the team is already assembled, their faces somber as they pour over the latest crime scene photos and witness statements. I take my seat, my mind still spinning with possibilities and theories.

As the lead detective begins to outline the details of the case, I feel a growing sense of dread. The victims were an elderly couple, both in their seventies, and their housekeeper, a woman in her fifties. All three had been brutally beaten to death, their bodies left in a bloody, mangled heap on the living room floor.

But what really catches my attention is the fact that, just like the previous murders, all of the valuables in the house had been stolen. Jewelry, cash, electronics - anything of value had been taken, leaving behind only the shattered remnants of the victims' lives.

It's a pattern that fits with Bundy's theory of a two-person team, one killer and one thief. And as much as I hate to admit it, I can't shake the feeling that he may be right.

As the briefing continues, I find myself taking copious notes, jotting down every detail and observation that might be relevant to the case.

As the briefing wraps up, the team wastes no time in heading out to the crime scene. The address is a quiet, unassuming neighborhood, the kind of place where nothing bad ever seems to happen. But today, the streets are alive with the flashing lights of police cars and the murmur of curious onlookers.

I step out of the car, my senses on high alert as I take in the scene before me. The house is a modest two-story affair, its white paint chipped and faded with age. But even from the outside, I can feel the weight of the horror that has taken place within.

As we make our way inside, I mentally run through the details that came up during the briefing. Three victims, all beaten to death with a blunt object. Valuables missing from the house, just like the previous murders. It's a pattern that's becoming all too familiar.

But as we begin to process the scene, something catches my eye. The body of the housekeeper is lying in a different room than the elderly couple, her injuries notably more severe. It's as if the killer had taken extra time, extra care, in ending her life.

I point this out to Detective Han, who frowns as he considers the implications. "It doesn't make sense," he mutters, almost to himself. "Why kill the housekeeper first, and then wait before going after the couple?"

I step closer, my mind already racing with possibilities. "What if the killer needed information?" I suggest, my voice low and urgent. "What if they interrogated the couple, trying to find out where they kept their valuables? They might have kept the wife alive longer, thinking she'd be more likely to cooperate."

Han looks at me, his eyes widening with a mix of surprise and unease. "You know, sometimes the way you talk... it's almost like you're thinking like a killer yourself."

I feel a flush of embarrassment at his words, but I force myself to shrug it off. "I'm just trying to understand their motivations, that's all. If we can get inside their heads, maybe we can predict their next move."

But even as I say the words, I can feel a familiar presence stirring in the back of my mind. It's Bundy, his voice filled with a twisted sort of admiration. "He's right, you know," he whispers, his words echoing in my skull. "You have a gift for this kind of work. The way you think, the way you see the world... it's the mark of a true predator."

I try to push his voice away, to focus on the task at hand. But I can't shake the feeling that he may be right. That maybe, in some dark and twisted way, I am uniquely suited to hunting down the worst of humanity.

Wait… is that why Bundy came to be in the first place?