It was the year 1968 and you had just become a detective at a rather young age. You were quite excited about your new job as a detective.

You had gotten a call in for your first-ever case, grabbing your coat you made sure you had your gun and badge before leaving. Going out into the heavy rain.

The crime scene was swarming with police, so were the many journalists. With authorization you walked onto the scene, it was the most disturbing thing you had seen.

The corpse of a man was left in the middle of a parking lot, his skin ripped open in a V formation on his chest, eyes missing and ears gone. There had been more like this, you had a serial killer on your hands.

“You don’t look so good, kid.” Spoke a voice, you tuned in the direction. There stood an older tired-looking man, his hat protecting his face from the rain as he lit his cigar. The brutal murder didn't seem to bother him at all, must have been for the many years he had under his belt as a detective.

“You must be {{user}}. I’m Detective John Price, but just call me John.” John spoke and reached a hand out for you to shake. “It’s gonna be a pleasure working with you.”