My many ways
Detective Denton and Glock arrived at the dreary and desolate motel in about twenty minutes. There was only one squad car, and two uni’s. One approached their car; the other was yellow taping the crime scene. Sheldon parked and they got out. Detective Denton left the police lab labeled envelope on his seat, and walked up to the uniformed officer. “Why is there only one squad car here?” Sheldon also had a question he was burning to ask. “What’s with all the tape” Dispatch said it was a Homicide, yet you’re wrapping the place in tape as if it were a fucking Christmas present.”
“They didn’t tell you?” said Officer Trast.
“Tell us what, man?’ asked Roddy
“Everyone in this motel has been murdered,” said the other Officer, who was taping off the area.
“There’s gotta be like thirty suites in this shit hole.” Said Sheldon, as he walked towards the first door, it was broken, and ajar.
“You guys look in any of these rooms or touch anything?” asked Roddy to the other Officers.
“You’re fucking joking, right?” said Officer Trast.
“Good.” Replied Roddy sternly. He took out his flashlight and scanned the room. The walls were completely covered in blood; the crimson walls reminded him of a bad horror movie. “Jesus Christ,” he blurted out.
Detective Glock scanned the next room; he didn’t notice anything wrong at first, until he got to the bathroom. There were severed body parts on the floor in the shower stall. They were stacked on top of each other; the blood flowed into a deep dark pool underneath, and was still seeping in a swirl down the shower drain. He vomited in the toilet next to the stall. He got up to the sink, turned on the hot water and splashed it on his face.
Denton found no body parts other than the mess that was strewn on the walls, floors and ceiling. He backed out of the room and called to the other officers. “Hey Trast, and other guy, check the other rooms, but don’t touch anything.” Trast complied and informed his partner to check the rooms on the west side of the motel. They ran across the lot and Trast began at the north end, and his partner, the south. His cell phone rang; it was Sheldon in one room number four. “Looks as if these people were all murdered randomly, and with varying methods, so methodical. Who the fuck could do this? Is this what you were talking about? This guy has no one method, he seems to use all the methods, and it’s like flipping through an old criminology textbook,”
Denton went back to the car to call for C.S.U. and some back up. The car door was ajar when he pulled on the handle, and it opened with no effort. The file he had left was gone, and his radio appeared to have been destroyed. “Shit.” He flipped open his cell phone and sped dialed Detective Glock. “The motherfucker is still here kid, be careful,” He turned around, and The Man stood in front of him.
“Nice to see you again Roderick, it’s been such a long time,”