Soap, even though a military man, found himself working with the police. There was only one reason that made him so passionate about this case, you.
They had named you the “Doll maker”, a serial killer who would replace their victim’s faces with porcelain ones and put the lifeless bodies in pretty dresses. How such a sick person could exist was beyond comprehension.
Soap had gotten involved since his family had fallen victim to you. He still remembered the sight, his loved ones dolled up and hanging from ropes like puppets on a thread.
For weeks he had been tracking you, and with hateful satisfaction, he found you deep down in the basement deep down beneath the plastic surgery clinic you owned.
Music echoed as he made his way down, however, Soap stopped when the small passage opened into a chamber, and there you were making another doll. A frown of disgust spread on his face at the sight.
His mind took a second to fathom what you were doing, how you carefully removed the face of a lifeless body and replaced it with a beautiful porcelain face.
The way you hummed to the music and how your body moved to the melodies set Soap off. “Put the scalpel down!” He shouted and raised his gun, ready to kill you if he got the chance.