Adam walked into the crime scene with his three piece gray suit. With his dark hair combed back and adjusting his black framed glasses, Adam met up with homicide detective Philip Crews. As a Forensic Psychologist he analyzes the man to be too aggressive for a detective. He thinks Crews should have stood as the blue knight– walking the streets of New York.
When he entered the room he saw the gruesome crime scene, the corpse of a young woman in her mid 20’s with Auburn hair, red lipstick, and sheets covered in blood. Her body was split in two from the collar bone to the abdomen, and her waist covered by a red silk sheet. The pattern seemed familiar. The night had its way of overcoming Adam’s mind, he knew he will always remember the killings that started in December.
Philip Crews: Hey doc, it’s about time! I’m telling you man to call for some consulting takes forever! You are one hard man to reach!
Adam: Yeah? Well, what can I say?
Adam can tell that Philip is waiting for a more detailed response, but at the moment he couldn’t come up with one.
Philip Crews: So doc?! What do you think happened? And who are we looking for?
Adam stared at the crime scene, going over the room inch by inch, looking for something that called out to him. He looked over the dressers, the beige curtains, and the interior style of the room. As he scanned the room he noticed a white digital clock 2:34 a.m.
Adam: I think we all know that this is the signature of the “red silk” killer,
Philip nodded his head.
Adam felt uneasy as Philip made his way around him.
Adam: He always covers his victims with a sheet of red silk and dyes their lips with red lipstick, but not with any modern lipstick brand.
Philip Crews: This guy is on a killer rampage. This is his fourth victim this week, and his fascination for red heads.
Adam: He has a deep intimidation towards the female’s anatomy, representing a lack of sexual competence, and because of this impotence he feels the need to mutilate the body for gratification.
Philip Crews: These fucking psychos man! Whose fault is it that they can’t get it up; or because they had some dysfunctional lifestyle and their mother happens to be a prostitute.
Adam heard someone at the door, and turned to see his assistant: Claire Swiss. She walked in with her Auburn hair lifted up in a French bun. She wore red rim glasses; with her skin cutting green eyes.
Claire: Hey Crews, hey boss, you might want to take a look at this.
Philip, Adam and Claire all walked towards the bathroom. On the wall above the mirror was a message written in red lipstick- “You may believe I have committed all these crimes alone- and there you are wrong- for I am two, but one. When are you going to stop this poor man from digging himself a bigger grave?”
Philip Crews: (In disbelief) what the fuck is that supposed to mean!
Claire swabbing the red matter from a letter and placed it in her forensic kit.
Claire: So what do you think boss, what does it mean?
Adam: Well this crime is different in only one thing- the perp seems to have a need to explain his actions: The sentence “I am two in one.” Signifies that the perp may have Dissociative Identity Disorder-
Philip Crews: Yea or faking it!
Adam turned towards the bed room, drifting off in his mind. He could feel the room go silent. Officers that were speaking, were only moving their lips. His eyes studied the room from his perspective.
Adam: (I hate when I can’t concentrate, I lose so much time between hours, I always wind up in a different place wondering how I got there. I need to get myself checked- I think I’m losing my fucking mind.)
Claire placed her hand on Adam’s shoulder.
Adam: (Adam jumped at the gesture) Detective I need you to look up Psych wards in the surrounding area, anyone with Dissociative Personality Disorder. Claire I need you to bring over the samples to the lab and see if the perp got sloppy due to his escalation of murders.
Philip Crews had cleared the room for Adam to concentrate
Philip Crews: Okay man! Do what you do best and let’s catch this son of a bitch.
As the room began to clear, Adam got one of his headaches; it felt as if he was having an earthquake in his brain. Adam flew forward in pain, running to the kitchen, he felt around his coat pocket and quickly removed some painkillers. He tried to uncap the bottle, but the cap kept clicking. He hated the migraines.
Adam: (gasping in pain- while removing his pills from his pocket) Oh! God! Fucking open already!
Adam slips into unconsciousness and jumps up and looks around and stretches his face. What once was relaxed and strained with wrinkles on his forehead, Jeremiahs face is with a look of mocking and menace.
Jeremiah: Oh! Now that’s more like it! (He squeals in disgust) I hate these glasses (Jeremiah places them inside the pocket of his vest.)
Jeremiah walks over to the corpse staggering with his ego. He pushes back her auburn hair smelling the stench of her decaying body. He smiles to himself appreciating his work; how easy it is to deform the body. He hears a noise and turns around to see Claire back; he stares at her auburn hair. Autumn could not compete with the sunset warmth of her hair. Jeremiah feels himself catch an erection.
Claire: Adam? Are you okay? Why are you looking at me that way? And where’s your glasses? Don’t tell me you’ve lost them again!?
Adam shakes his head and looks at Claire. He notices he doesn’t have his glasses on and reaches inside his pocket and places them on his face. He feels aroused, but has no idea why.
Claire: Adam? Are you okay? Answer me…
Adam pats his suit and is trying to gain composure.
Adam: I’m okay… Just another migraine- So where were we?
Claire: How long have you’ve been here? (Leaning against the wall)
Adam: Quite a while. Did Crews get back to you?
Claire: Yea. So far no leads. (Looking at the corpse) We need to catch this guy.
Adam: Have you ever considered changing your hair color? (Almost touching it)
Claire: No, why would I?! I would never give a Dissociative freak the satisfaction of showing fear; I will not let him dominate my body- I’m surprised you would even ask that Adam!
Adam: (whispers) Me too.
As Adam walked in the dead of winter along the streets of Manhattan, he pushes back the passengers of the busy streets. He looks around at different women and notices a girl wearing a cerulean dress and stilettos, her auburn hair almost reaches to her back. Adam grabs a hold of his own head his headache again. He makes his way towards her and pushes her enough to make her wallet drop.
Jeremiah: Oh excuse me! (As he leans down to rescue her wallet – catching a glimpse of her address) Manhattan it’s so overrated- so crowded.
Samantha O’Connell: (confused and shy) Yeah it is (She takes the wallet from Jeremiah) Thanks.
He watches her walk away in her stilettos. Jeremiah uses his murderous instincts and replays the address in his head over and over. He fantasizes about the ways he’s going to abuse and torture her. He makes it to Adam’s tower apartment located on the desolate streets of 49th street. He steps in the elevator and presses the 23rd floor. He walks into the apartment; he is disgusted by the arrangement. He kicks over a lounge seat and makes his way over to the mirror.
Jeremiah: (Tugs at his suit jacket) Look at the way he dresses–disgusting! This idiot actually thinks he can catch me and neither does he know that he’s trying to catch himself. Solving a crime he committed. Such an emotional wreck he is; letting his work consume him, and that Claire bitch… She is so enticing, I can’t wait to split her in two. First, practice makes perfect (as he touches himself thinking of the girl in the cerulean dress moaning her name) Samantha O’Connelly.
After Jeremiah ejaculating and falling asleep; the phone rings and Adam wakes up to the message of Claire’s voice: “Hey Adam, it’s me Claire, I think we found a lead, the lab is running through some test…” Adam tries to race to the phone, but stumbles over the kicked lounge seat, as he picks up the receiver he realizes his hand is sticky.
Adam: (Picks up the receiver) Hey Claire, what’s up? What did you find?
Claire: I was going over the silk sheet and found a hair- I sent it to the lab, I think this son of a bitch is getting sloppy Adam! We’re close!
Adam holds the phone with one shoulder popping a painkiller in his mouth, rubbing his hand across his pants.
Adam: What else did you find?
Claire: Nothing yet, we’re still waiting on results, but I need you to come down to the crime scene, to show you where we found the hair follicle so you can consult with the detective.
Adam: Alright that’s not a problem give me– what time is it (Adam looks at his watch) it’s 2:00p.m.? I’ll be there at five.
Claire: Alright see you there.
Adam hangs up and lights a cigarette looking through his phone directory
Adam: Yes hi I would like an appointment for today to see Dr. Miller… Adam Moore… Yes refill…. Can you squeeze me in for 2:45p.m.?… Great thanks bye.
In doctor’s office
Receptionist: He’ll be right with you Mr. Moore.
Adam plants himself in the lounge chair and holds up a newspaper with comments about the latest crime by the “Red Silk” killer. Adam thinks to himself , “I need to catch him before he escalates further.” Adam suddenly heard a voice off in the distance.
Jeremiah: To late.
Adam: (Adam looks up at the receptionist) Did you say something?
Receptionist: (with a confused look on her face) No.
Dr. Miller: Mr. Adam Moore.
Adam looked up and walked towards the doctor
Dr. Miller: Come in. Sit down. How are your migraines? Is it better, worse or no improvement?
Adam: The same since last time and now I’m losing time doc.
Dr. Miller: Okay so I’m going to send you in for a CAT scan next week. Any more complaints besides the headache.
Adam: Things are moved in places I don’t remember putting them in the first place.
Dr. Miller: Sometimes lost of sleep and stress can affect your memory, but we will see what the CAT shows us.
Dr. Miller: Until then try to take it easy and don’t bring work home.
Adam: (scoffs) I’ll try.
Dr.Miller: See you then (as he hands him the prescription)
Adam stuffs the prescription into his pocket as he walked out of the doctor’s office. It almost seemed as if he was rushing to the pharmacy; waiting in anticipation for another migraine. As he thought to himself, he bumped into Samantha O’Connelly.
Samantha: Hey, aren’t you the one that bumped into me on 42nd street?
Adam: (Adam is puzzled by this notion) Excuse me?
Samantha: Yea. Remember the one in the Cerulean dress?
Adam is trying to figure out where he saw her, but the the confrontation provokes another migraine.
Samantha: Are you okay? (Grabs to Adam’s shoulder)
The pain is excruciating, Adam held on to his head. He buckled down; he can feel himself having an out of body experience and his vision going blurry.
Samantha: Oh my God! Are you okay?
He jumped to his feet
Jeremiah: Yes! Oh I remember! What are you doing around here?
Her face looked slightly confused
Samantha: I live around here by 49th street.
Jeremiah: Really?! So do I! Go figure! Are you busy? Do you want to grab a cup of coffee? Well, that’s if I’m not detaining you from anything.
Samantha: No! Not at all. But are you sure you’re okay??
Jeremiah: I’m fine. Join me, consider it my treat.
Jeremiah and Samantha go for a cup coffee. They spend an hour chatting and Jeremiah manipulating her. Samantha is intrigue not knowing what awaits her.
Samantha: You never really gave me your name.
Jeremiah: Jeremiah Adam Saint.
Samantha: (leans forward over the coffee table) Maybe this is inappropriate, but how would you like to come over to my place, it is near your apartment.
Jeremiah thought she would never ask.
Jeremiah: (Grins) I don’t see the harm in being inappropriate. (Gets up) Ladies First.