The dreams all start off the same. Sometimes he was going to the mall. Other times. He just graduated from his university. But it ends all in the same horrifying conclusion.

His tearing eyes went wide as he let out a muffled whimper. His hands bound to the bed post behind him as his breathing was muffled by whatever bound his muzzle shut. His heart racing as he looked over to the shadowy mass currently looking over many tools. Rusty and new as its hands brushed over the handle of a large knife taking it. A camera beeped beside him on a nightstand. facing him to immortalize his agony as the figure lazily walked over to him. Its voice distorted in a garbled mess beyond understanding. Maybe insults, twisted compliments, or a false comfort to its victim. He could never tell. But what he could tell was the blade now slicing into his stomach to touch the back of his lungs, stealing his air to prevent any meaningful screams as the figure ripped off the makeshift gag to capture the agony across his face. As tears flooded his eyes as it gripped his hair painfully to make him look into its voidless face. Pulling the knife out only to push it into him again sawing as deep as it could go. There was no escape like always.

A sharp scream tore from his throat. His head soon bounced on the top of the roof of his car as he tore himself out of his vivid nightmare. A pained whimper escaping him as he rubbed his head. Not enough to bruise but enough to hurt. His eyes blinked sleepily as he took in reality around him. He was parked in a forest, now remembering that he pulled over for a nap. One that didn't last a hour. A soft bitter chuckle left him as he felt thankful he didn't nearly crash.

"At least I wasn't driving this time..."

He set back into the leather seat of his car. His grey furred hands reaching to grip a nearby file full of many similar cases. He was thankful that he had gotten the police to actually hand these after months of annoying them. The root cause of his nightmare. Many times the victim was girl was found in her bedroom after a break in. Mutilated beyond belief with no leads, besides a murder tape being released in the illegal markets. There was one victim that was on a camping trip found in her tent in the same manner far from home, the only odd one out of the bunch.

He skimmed through them. His eyes mainly focusing on the names as he stopped at the last and oldest in the back of the file.

Carol Walters

He blinked looking at it. His hands shaking as he opened it for a second. The moment he was greeted with a picture of the flayed body of the girl he stopped. Closing the file fast as he nearly threw it back into the passenger side like if it was a cursed object. He couldn't look at it. Not yet. With a flick of his keys his car rumbled to life as he began to drive onward. Heading into the town as the fog set in. The bags under his eyes feeling heavy yet he could not bring himself to fall asleep and face her murderer once more. To feel the pain she felt. He kept his eyes off the mirrors, not wanting to see if she had tagged along again as the sun finally started to peak over the horizon to light the foggy town.

He soon pulled over to the cafe he often stopped at when he just got done from work. As he softly walked in. ordering a coffee and setting at a far end table. As he brought the files close as he carefully slid just the facts of the victims out. Avoiding the photos for his own sake. The words were often easier for his sanity then the photos.

The pattern was there for each case but the reasons behind them was seemingly impossible to pin point. After three coffees were drank through a single setting. he finally slid the papers back into the file as he cursed under his breath. Looking out the window. As it was clear enough for him to not see his reflection. And it allowed him to not see Her for awhile.