Recently in New York there’s been consistent murders with one thing in common. All of the victims are beautiful, young women. I’ve been working on this damn case for weeks and have gotten nowhere at all. Neither me or my team have got any sort of lead or ideas on who this killer is, and the case almost seems impossible to solve.

Although I usually try and work on these cases alone, I’ve considered my options and remember a remarkable young man I met not to long ago. He works as a babysitter, although clearly he’s not to good at it as he recently lost one of the children and had to get the cops involved. But like nothing I’ve ever seen before, he was able to locate the child’s exact location without any sort of lead. My coworkers and I joked around saying he’s some sort of psychic, especially from the fact that exact situation had happened previously, with the same man.

Truly believing he has psychic ability, I decide to visit his home and ask him for help. I walk up to his front door and knock, all while holding my breath anxiously. I hate asking for help, especially from people I barely know. “Please answer.” I mumble softly under my breath.