Well isn’t this a cliche. Tied to a chair in some poorly lit room with a pounding headache coming from the back of my skull. What do they do while you’re out? Do they just sit there and wait? Grab a coffee and check in here and there? Seems like a waste of time to me. What if I didn’t wake up? Just killed with one hit and it’s all over. Bet that would ruin their plans.

“Why are you smiling Detective?” Says the voice from the phone across the room from me. I can only make out the outline of a person.

“Just thinking about this joke I heard the other day. Wanna hear it?”

“We don’t have time for jokes, Detective.”

“Ya? Well I don’t really feel like working tomorrow so take all the time you need.”

“Humor… We thought you might use that as a defense mechanism.”

“What exactly am I defending from here? Some guy living in his mom's basement?”

“Are you afraid Detective?”

“The scariest thing in here is the smell of the garbage that needs to be thrown out.”

The room goes silent. Can’t seem to see any windows so I think my basement guess is looking pretty good. Still don’t know how long I’ve been out.

“So… you’re my secret admirer? I’ve gotta say that I’m flattered.”

“Not exactly Detective. You are more just…an unfinished task.”

“Task huh? Sounds like a pretty daunting one if you ask me.”

“A man who is so duty bound, yet so full of rage is exactly what we need.” He says with this lust in his voice.

“Ya I gave up driving because of the road rage but I’m getting better at it.”

“We both know that’s not the rage we are talking about Detective.”

“If you care to enlighten me I’d appreciate it because I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“Foul language will get you nowhere here Detective.”

“Fine. What in the sugar plums are you talking about?”

“This defiance that you are showing. Do you think it comes from a place of strength?”

“Strength? No. I’m just cranky when you talk to me before I’ve had my coffee.”

“Why do you think you are here Detective?”

“Umm.. is it a surprise birthday party?”

“We’ve had enough Detective!” The voice spits out, stomping a foot to the ground which echoes through the room.

“Looks like we have something in common. That’s quite the anger built up in you guys.”

“We are simply tired of your childish behavior Detective.”

“Tough shit.”

The room becomes quiet for a moment. The sound of crickets seep through the cracked window to my right.

“So… What the fuck am I doing here?”

“Patience, Detective.”

“You know if you are going to kill me I’d prefer to get it done soon because I have plans with my mom which I’d love an excuse to miss.”

A quick breath shoots out from his nostrils. I think I actually made him laugh.

“No. That’s not the point of this visit. Consider this more of a… check-up.”

“Ok well I think my cholesterol is high so I’ll stay away from fatty foods. See you next year Doc.”

“We see there’s no talking to you when you get like this. Maybe we should come back when you’ve… had your coffee.”

“Holy fuck was that a joke?”

The shadow brings both arms to his knees to get up and starts making his way away from me.

“We will be back Detective”

“Bring the rest of you. I’d love to meet the rest of the Brady bunch. Who or whatever they are.”

The footsteps stop.

“Seems that you are ready to talk.” The voice says turning back towards me.

As he makes his way closer to me in a lightly paced step he grabs the chair and drags it to the threshold of the beam of light. He swivels the chair over and sits just at the edge of visibility. All I can see is the tip of his left dress shoe. The closer he gets I can feel this uneasy chill crawl up my spine. There's like this… insatiable lust. It’s like a predator staring at their prey.

“You must be frustrated. You can’t tell anyone can you?”

“Tell them what exactly.”

The air gets thick.

“About us.”

“What is there to tell. Just another psychopath for me to put behind bars.”

“Bars can’t contain us, Detective. We are… more.”

“You sure don’t look it. Just some asshole with a god complex.”

“Yet you believe.”

Fuck these games.

“What are you?”

“Just assholes with a god complex.”

“Why me?”

“You are unfinished.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I blurt out.

Shit. Gotta calm down. I just feel his eyes digging through my skull.

“Your rage. It’s beautiful.” He says in a savoring tonne.

“Untie me and I’ll show you all the rage you can handle.”

“You could kill me. But that doesn’t stop us.”

“Ya? And how can I kill the rest of you?”

“That would be too easy.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Why do you think you are here Detective?”

“A task or whatever the fuck that means.”

“Exactly. But you intrigue us.”

“Glad I could be your entertainment.”

“Tell us about the first time.”

“Well… I was seventeen and was about to deploy overseas. She didn’t want me dying a virgin.”

“You are a funny man Detective. But I think you know which time we are referring to.”

“Oh you mean that time you fucks burrowed into my brain and made me kill my wife? That one?”

“We don’t make people do things, Detective. We simply… remove your inhibition.”

“Sure didn’t feel that way.”

“I know it can be hard to face, Detective. But it wasn’t us holding the knife. It wasn’t us who made you thrust into her chest. Again… and again. As her lifeless body drains a river of red.”

“You shut your fucking mouth right now! I may not be able to kill all of you but I sure as fuck want to kill you.”

“Some wounds stay open longer than others. A man like you. One who killed countless enemies. You’d think that she would be another one lost in the depths of your dreams.”

“So what you bring me here to piss me off then kill me to make an example of me?”

“Your life is not in danger today. Not by our hands.”

“So you want to watch me kill myself.”

“We want to know why you haven’t.”

“Good fucking question.”

“So much pain. You’ve lost everything. There’s nothing left in this world remaining for you. Why don’t you kill yourself? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“Clearly you’re a fucking idiot. Like fuck I’m giving you that satisfaction.”

“You may try to be strong on the outside. But we know you are shattered. Defiance is not your only motivation.”

“What’s your motivation?” I yell.

“Tell us!” he booms thrusting his upper body forward.

“Tell me you stupid fuck!”

“You are not in a position to make demands.”

“I’m exactly in a position to make demands. Keeping me alive is the only way you’ll get anything out of me.”

The storm settles. Both our bloods coursing red. My heart, beating out of my ears.

“You are trying our patience Detective.”

“Good. You fucking try to put on this whole mysterious image of yourself when we know that you are just some scared little bitch who’s too scared to get their hands dirty so you force other people to do it for you. You… all of you are pathetic pieces of shit.”

“Dirty hands?” He says under his breath.

The shadow stands back up. Now more than ever I can feel the blood lust. Such a sickening desire. He begins circling, always staying at the edge of the light. Smart fuck. Once he makes it just behind my left should I start feeling it. This beckoning desire to burst out in anger. Thought of slitting his throat and bleeding him out like a pig race through my mind. It excites me to want his cold body lifeless on the floor.

“We can get our hands dirty. But it’s not our objective.”

In the corner of my eye I can see the reflection of steel. Some three, maybe four inch knife meets the side of my cheek. His hand is steady. A decisive hand lowers the blade to my jugular. As he rotates the sharp edge I feel it dig into my skin.

“You better do it or I will.”

The pressure of the blade starts piercing through the skin and I start bleeding. Whispers start invading my thoughts. Voices of the past. So much suffering. It’s deafening. I'm starting to get drenched in anticipation. I close my eyes and smile. Finally this is over.

The blade pulls away. A moment of respite soothed the voices momentarily.

“Why don’t you pull away?”

“Sorry to tell you. But you’ve played all your cards.”

“Is that so?”

“I may have no fucking clue who or what you are. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve told me everything I need to know.”

“This is getting sad, Detective.”

“You could say that. Sure you can kill me. But that doesn’t help you. You need me to do it. Couldn’t tell you why but for some reason you need us to do it. Like you said. You only inhibit restraint. You’re nothing more than a couple too many drinks in a night. Sure you can get your hands dirty but what good would that do. You can’t pull the trigger for us.”

“What makes you so confident?” The voice says as he backs deep into the darkness of the room.

“Families.”

“What?”

“You aim for families. Like me… and two face. Something about us interests you. You probably just watch us lose everything we’ve ever loved. Wife… kids. Bring us to a hopeless depth and the moment we are to take our lives. You let go. Because you can’t do it can you? We have to make that decision.”

“You are making tales.”

“Like I said. Nothing but a psychopath with a god complex.”

“You are making us angry Detective.”

“Tough shit! You either kill me now or you're going to have to find business elsewhere.”

“You truly think that it’s the answer to all this don’t you? You are the first person ever to solve the riddle. That nothing can ever break your stone resolve. But you still have more to lose, Detective. When your life is in ruin and you beg for us to let you die. Only then will we give you the means.”

“Looks like you are going to have to quit your day job. Because when I find you. I will get my hands dirty”

“We will enjoy watching you die. You and Detective Ashe.”

“If you involve her. I will make sure you die very painfully.”

“Everyone is involved now, Detective.”

Departing footsteps fade from behind me. As the door slams behind me a burst of light burns into my eyes. Fucking asshole. As the blinding light fades I start to get a view of the place. We seem to be in the basement of some crackhouse. Some shit hole that smells strangely familiar.

“Wait.” I say under my breath.

That’s dried blood. I almost didn't notice it with how disgusting it is down here. Is it the blood from the dumpster? Suddenly I hear footsteps from overhead with a quick pace.

“Hanes?” I hear, coming from upstairs.

“Down here!” I call out.

A door swings open and races down the stairs, gun in hand.

“Ashe?”

“Scott! Are you ok? Who did this?”

“Wish I could tell you, kid. But I think they left somewhere behind me.”

“I’ll check it out.”

She makes her way to the door behind me and takes a deep breath. She kicks the door open to be met by some dark storage room with a door just ahead wide open leading into the dawn.

“They’re gone.” She turns back to me to come untie me. “Hanes, who did this?”

“Never mind that. How did you find me?”

“You weren’t there in the morning so I assumed that you went to work. I found a note on my car saying you were here. I thought it was from you because of the location.”

“Location? What are you talking about?”

“We are just a couple of blocks away from your place.” She says.

“Why does …”

I cut myself off. It can’t be.

“We need to find that smell.”

Like a bloodhound I zero in on the location. A few drops of blood head towards a back room.

It can’t be. Right?

The trail ends. A boy on the floor, dead. Dried blood dripping down from the corner of his lips pooling underneath. The hair. Long blond curls on the abandoned body.

It’s him.