Hello there! Wow, it's been a while hasn't it? Two months! Now I'll admit, I have been missing some motivation, but with school now over for me (one more day!) I'll hopefully write a lot more! I have not forgotten about the MPS and I'm glad to be back in this contest! Even if this came out later than I wanted it to because of the document not saving...but we're here now!
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October 1st I was given the Sandman case. He was a serial killer, named for the sand he put around a victim’s body. The way he killed was absolutely disgusting, eyes torn out, limbs ripped off, the only way we knew it was all him was the sand. Captain Angeles had given me a partner for this case.
The guy had dark features, black hair, dark eyes, compared to my lighter hair and eyes. “Michael Stone, nice to meet you,” he said, sticking out his hand. I shook it. “Luc Violet. I have a feeling we are going to work well together.”
It had been a month and Sandman had killed two more people. I had been trying to find a connection between the victims, but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“Luc, you’re still here? You should go home, it’s late,” Michael said, grabbing his coat. I shook my head. “Can’t Michael. I need to find a connection.” He looked ready to argue but thought better of it and left.
Maybe he was right, but I couldn’t go home, not yet. When the phone rang I answered it quickly. The officer on the other end told me there was another victim. I practically ran there before remembering my car.
“Where’s the victim,” I asked the officer. He just pointed. The person had gashes and cuts all over their body, but the thing that broke me was the bucket full of blood their head was in. Like they had been drowned in it.
“Look at the wall,” the officer told me. I did. On it was a message, written in blood. “Catch me if you can, Violet.”
He was calling me out.
Another week passed. There wasn’t a connection between the victims, at least not that I could find. But this wasn’t becoming a cold case. I refused to let it be a cold case. Michael was at the desk behind me as I studied a sample of the sand left behind at the most recent murder.
“Does this look like any sand you’ve seen,” I asked him. It was on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t think. Michael looked at it. “Actually…it’s similar in shade to the sand at Cove Beach.” A lead.
I was at the beach with Michael, being he had to come with, the control freak. I was the one who noticed the beach house on the side though. That had to be it, had to be Sandman’s base of operations.
We ran in, but instead of Sandman we found another victim, and next to him another blood message. “Better luck next time!” I slammed my fist into the wall. Again, we missed him again. Michael tried to put his hand on my shoulder, but I moved away. “Get in the car,” I said. “We’re going back to the precinct.”
Another month. Sandman wasn’t slowing down either, if anything he was speeding up. Like he knew he could get away with it.
The phone rang and I picked it up. “What do you want?” I didn’t have time for this. Sandman was all that mattered.
“Um, my name is Lily, I think I’ve gotten a good look at the Sandman killer.”
A witness? That didn’t seem possible. Sandman always killed anyone who could’ve seen him. At least so far.
This was a perfect lead.
“Meet me at Enzo’s coffeehouse in 10 minutes.” I didn’t even wait for her answer, why should I? This was perfect, and she wouldn’t not come after calling me first.
When I got there, the girl waved me over. I knew she was the witness from the look in her eyes, the look of fear.
“So,” I said. “What did you see?” There was no point in not getting straight to it.
The witness fidgeted with her hands. “Um, well, I was with my friend and-”
I shook my head. “Did you see what he looked like? Do you have anything new to add to the investigation?”
She opened and closed her mouth before sighing. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” She was about to tell me whatever she knew. Bang! Blood covered the table.
A shot. The witness had been shot.
I looked out the window and saw a man by a dumpster across the street. He was holding something, a gun. I got up as everyone continued screaming, running to catch the killer. It was Sandman, I’d found him. Finally.
When he saw me, Sandman ran, but he wasn’t faster than me. Before long I had caught up with him, slamming him into the wall. He was my age, baggy clothes and a badly trimmed beard. “What the hell-,” he tried, but I just slammed him into the wall again.
I took the gun from his hand, but upon closer inspection I realized it wasn’t a gun. It was a rolled up newspaper. I handcuffed him to the dumpster next to us and checked him. No weapons. He wasn’t Sandman.
“What is wrong with you dude,” the guy said, but then I saw another figure in the dark. That was him. I ignored the guy and ran after the figure. It had to be Sandman, this was right, I would catch him.
He ran through alleyways and up onto the roof of an apartment building. I ran up right after him. On the roof he was looking over. I raised my gun. “Stay where you are!” He turned back to me and smirked. With a fake salute, he ran and jumped.
I shot three times. None of my bullets hit. He was gone.
I turned around to see another victim and message. “So close!”
When I got back to my office, all I could do was scream. He was right there. I threw my hands across my desk, knocking everything off. I didn’t care. I needed to solve this case. And he had been right there!
“Luc? I just got off the phone with your wife. You haven’t been home all week, she’s worried.”
I didn’t even look back at Michael. “I can’t go home,” I said. “Not with Sandman out there.”
Michael came over next to me. “Luc, you need to rest. Hell, you need a shower. Sandman will be caught but he can’t if you fall asleep while looking for him.”
I shook my head. “No, I can’t go home yet.” Michael tried to put his hand on my shoulder, but I immediately pushed him away, turning to him. “Michael, we’re close, I can taste it. Just help me catch him!”
Michael furrowed his eyebrows. “I am. But you need sleep.”
I stood up. “What is wrong with you? Sandman is out there, he could kill us anytime he wants, kill your family. You want that?”
Michael shook his head. “No, but you can’t spend another night at the precinct going over evidence you’ve looked at a million times.” He tried to grab me but I pulled away, grabbing the knife on my desk.
He put his hands up. “Luc-”
“No! Maybe you’re Sandman, that would explain why you want me to stop!” He opened his mouth but I swung before he could answer. He barely dodged.
He was Sandman, everything made sense. I kept swinging, Sandman needed to die. He was dodging every time until I swung at his stomach and hit skin.
He fell back, touching the blood. His hand was now painted red. I swung again, but this time he grabbed my wrist and was able to get the knife away from me. I struggled, but he was able to smack me in the head with the butt of his gun.
Sandman, I had to catch Sandman…
That night Luc was taken to the mental hospital. I didn’t fully understand what happened, but I was the one who had to tell his wife. That her husband had gone crazy about finding Sandman and had attacked me over it.
We caught Sandman a week later. His real name was Adam Broke. He was barely in his thirties, a skinny weak guy. We had caught him while he was murdering someone, and he died in the shootout. I tried to tell Luc this, but he refused to believe me. He still thinks Sandman is out there despite Adam having confessed to the crimes during the shootout, practically bragging that he’d gotten away with it all. It was sick, his mind so twisted. And he even caused Luc to have the same kind of issues in his head.
I still wonder how he’d done it. How Adam had driven someone that seemed as unmovable and secure as Luc to insanity. I hadn’t known Luc for long. Had he just snapped? Or was the Sandman just the last drop in the overflowing bucket?
I hope you enjoyed! Have a good day!