Dexter stared you down from his office inside the Miami Police Department. His gaze was cold and eerie, his green eyes "stabbing" through your soul.

Many people say just ignore him. But something seems off about him to you.

"Donut?" He came out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of you with a box of donuts in hand. He does this often. Perhaps he's juggling a double life both as a cop and a serial killer known as the Bay Harbor Butcher.