As a veteran detective, Ace Jackson had seen just about every kind of sick and twisted plot the criminal mind could conceive. He assumed his latest case would be no different than any other. A killer is human and will eventually make a mistake that puts him where he belongs: jail.

Tonight, he pulled his patrol car in front of an abandoned home on the wrong side of town; typical of a killer to choose a quiet place to work. As he entered the taped off crime scene several other officers, who had made it to the location before him, looked sick to their stomachs. At that moment, a waft of fetid air came from the house that smelled like rotted death and feces combined.

After Ace put a protective salve under his nose to help combat the smell, he entered the house and was led to the dining hall by the current officer in charge. Although he could have probably found the site by instinct he chose to indulge the younger officer’s request; he remembered being young once and knew what it was like to want respect.

When they reached the room he was the only one bold enough to enter. Once inside, he realized why. His mind could barely take in the massive amount of carnage and filth that littered the room. From behind him, the younger officer said, “Our coroner says all this is from just one body.”

Ace’s eyebrow arched in disbelief. “All this from one guy?” he asked with a wave at the room covered in crimson red gore and large amounts of excrement. There was no way a dead victim’s body could produce this much dung. Then, Ace deduced the most horrifying part of this murder. To judge from the amount of waste and blood, this victim had lived for several days before death.

Another officer, who had been brave enough to venture into the dining room, found several empty intravenous bags and an I.V. stand which confirmed Ace’s theory. Again, from behind came the voice of the youthful officer. “Most of the major organs have been strung about the room and used to spell out different words. Along with the smeared crap on the walls and floors we have about twenty-one words all together.”

“I want those words,” muttered Ace. Many killers leave some type of message in an attempt to justify their actions. This lunatic bastard was no different.

The young officer handed Ace a perfectly clean white envelope. “The killer has already left the list of words; it even had instructions to give it to a detective.” Upon receiving the list, Ace shoved it into an evidence bag and left. He needed quiet and peace in order to decipher the message.

As Ace was about to leave, he ran into the police chief outside. “Did they ever find the heart?” the chief asked. Ace was taken aback as no one had mentioned anything about a missing heart inside the house. “Is that rookie still making mistakes about leaving out vital info for detectives such as yourself?” Ace smiled as he remembered his first crime scene and how scared he had been.

He scratched the stubble on his chin. “Go easy on him. It’s certainly hellish in there for a first scene.” A brief chuckle came from the police chief. “Broke him in good, did it?” Ace just nodded his head in agreement.

Thus began his trip from the scene of carnage to one of peace—his home. Ace entered his quiet apartment, closed the door, dropped his keys on an end table, and fished out the bagged envelope from his pocket. Ace had been a detective for many years and bringing evidence home was a special ‘perk’ the police chief had allowed him due to his trustworthiness.

He went to his computer and entered the contents of the message into a new document. His fingers tingled as he typed, for although no more than simple words, he could feel an evil taint about them. It took him a couple of minutes to finish and he let the words on the screen soak into his memory as it could prove useful when other clues were added.

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