Serial Killers
Chapter 12
Lisa stared at her screen, unsure what to make of what she was seeing. Her spyware had picked up Alan reviewing a familiar file — a silhouette frequently spotted at Joe’s Plaza.
“It could be…” she thought to herself. “He wants us to think that he’s found the Toxin.”
Seconds later, the site updated. A new piece of evidence appeared — a surveillance video, timestamped another day at Joe’s Plaza.
Lisa sighed, expecting yet another dead end. Still, she clicked play. Within seconds, she froze.
The footage showed a man she instantly recognized — Alan. He was seated across from the very silhouette he’d been investigating.
Lisa leaned closer, watching as the two figures spoke. Their posture, their expressions — it wasn’t casual. They were studying each other.
She opened Alan’s notes on the second figure and began reading aloud.
“One victim per week. Always the same time. Always the same location.”
Her jaw tightened. “If he’s trying to mislead us, then why chase a lead without us?”
She sighed again, rubbing her temple. “Because he’s checking to see if it’s safe ground… but what if—” She stopped herself mid-thought and smirked. “No. I actually have a better idea.”
John Prescott walked down the dim street toward Joe’s Plaza, texting “Aaron Burr” about another meeting time. As he looked up, he noticed someone standing outside the restaurant.
John smiled, tossing his burner phone into the gutter, snapping it in half as he did. Then he strolled toward her with his usual swagger.
“Good evening,” he said, flashing a charming grin.
“Hey,” she replied quickly, guarded.
“What’s a pretty girl like you waiting out here for?” John asked smoothly.
The woman hesitated. “I was supposed to meet someone. But… it looks like they’re not showing up.”
John tilted his head, playing the sympathetic act. “That’s terrible. How long’ve you been waiting?”
“About thirty minutes.”
He frowned dramatically. “That’s rough. Tell you what—” He paused for effect. “Why don’t I make it up to you? Let me buy you dinner.”
She looked unsure, so he pressed on gently. “You’re already here. Might as well get a free meal out of the evening.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she smiled faintly. “You know what… why not?”
“Lovely!” John said, pulling open the door. “Name’s John, by the way.”
“Lisa,” she replied.
They sat at John’s usual table. The conversation stayed light — shallow chatter and forced laughs.
But as the night dragged on, John grew impatient. Three glasses of water? He thought, forcing a smile. When is she leaving?
When Lisa finally stood, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to be right back.”
John nodded politely. “Of course. Want me to get you anything while you’re gone?”
“No, I’m fine,” Lisa said before heading toward the restroom.
The moment she was gone, John’s mask dropped. He reached into his coat pocket, muttering, “Finally…” and began preparing the poison.
George noticed and rushed over. “John—”
John snapped, grabbing George by the collar and whispering harshly, “I’m done with your whining, George. You say one more word, and I’ll tell your wife about your little side affairs—after I kill you.”
George backed off immediately, hands raised, face pale.
Turning back to the table, John dumped the poison into Lisa’s drink and began stirring when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.
He gritted his teeth, not turning around. “Dear God, George, you really are looking to die tonight, aren’t you? Because if you don’t back off, I—”
John froze.
Standing behind him was Detective Levi Hills, badge gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
“Detective Levi Hills, Riverdale Police,” he said. “Mind telling me what you’re doing?”
John forced a laugh, scanning for escape routes. “Heh… I, uh—”
Uniformed officers stepped out from the shadows, surrounding him. Levi pulled out handcuffs.
“Save it. You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Lisa Brown.”
John’s breath quickened. “No… no, no, no, this isn’t— I didn’t—”
Levi slammed his head against the table and cuffed his wrists.
As John was dragged away, Lisa emerged calmly from the restroom, watching Levi read Prescott his Miranda rights.
INT. RIVERDALE POLICE DEPARTMENT — INTERROGATION ROOM
John Prescott sat cuffed to the steel table, panic simmering beneath his stillness. His thoughts spiraled.
“That rat George must’ve sold me out. When did he do it? Idiot. Should’ve killed him the first time he saw us. No—no, you can’t just kill everyone… Oh God, I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die!”
The door clicked open. Detectives Lisa Brown and Levi Hills stepped in, calm, collected. They sat across from him, silent, letting the tension breathe.
Prescott’s eyes darted between them.
Finally, he snapped, “What do you want!?”
Lisa leaned forward.
“Your name isn’t John Prescott. It’s Albert Prescott. And we believe you’ve killed eight women over the past eight weeks.”
Albert smirked, forcing a calm he didn’t feel.
“You have no way of proving that.”
Lisa began pacing, her tone sharp and deliberate.
“Actually, Albert, you made it easy for us. Every one of your victims was returned home—just like you said in your online confessions. Each one caught on Joe’s Plaza’s security cameras. You basically wrapped the case in a bow and handed it to us.”
Albert’s façade cracked. His hands trembled. His breath quickened.
Then Levi dropped the line.
“You wouldn’t have been caught,” he said evenly, “if that kid in the brown blazer hadn’t highlighted you in red.”
Albert froze. His panic stopped mid-breath. Slowly, his eyes rose to meet Levi’s. The bait had landed.
Levi pressed on.
“Here’s the deal. You killed eight women. But the man we’re after may have killed dozens. We’re not erasing your sentence, but… if you help us, we won’t push for the death penalty. Life in prison instead.”
Albert didn’t hesitate.
“If you can make sure I don’t get the chair, I’ll tell you everything I know about that kid.”
Lisa and Levi exchanged a glance. Then Lisa said, “You have our word.”
Albert leaned forward, whispering almost reverently:
“His name’s Aaron Burr. Calls himself the Toxin of Riverdale. He told me he’d killed forty people himself. Medium-length messy brown hair, blue eyes. Tall, wiry. Always calm. Always watching.”
Levi stood and left the room, calling for a sketch artist.
Lisa frowned. “Are you sure his name was Aaron Burr?”
Albert hesitated. “Yes… well—no.”
Lisa raised an eyebrow.
Albert continued, “He could’ve been lying. Hell, I lied about my name. And knowing him.”
Moments later, the sketch artist finished and turned the drawing around.
Lisa’s breath caught.
Levi stared down at the image, then at Albert.
“This him?”
Albert’s smile was slow, chilling.
“Yes. That is without a doubt....”
“The Toxin of Riverdale.”
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Ooooh very cool! Excited to see what happens next! 🫶✨💖
I liked your profile description. I saved this and might give it a read soon.