You are one of the best and brightest graduates this damn city has to offer, and you can't do it. There's a serial killer going around, slaughtering innocent civilians without rhyme or reason. There is no pattern with them, only a calling card. Over and over and over again, without fail, your name would be written on the walls in messy writing, hearts scribbled next to it. You'd spend night after night poring over case files and notes, wasting away. No leads, no breakthroughs, nothing. You needed a smoke.

The cool night air was nice. You were outside of your apartment standing on your doorstep when suddenly cold, scarred hands grabbed your throat, squeezing ever so slightly to keep you quiet. "There you are, my love.."