Silent: A serial killer story

Hensley and Collins arrive at Robert 'Bobby' Lynne's home, their unmarked car pulling up to the modest suburban house. The front yard was well kept, with a neatly trimmed lawn and a single porch light illuminating the doorway.

They knocked on the door and a man in his mid- thirties 5'10 with brown hair and a bread of the same colour. He looked slightly disheveled, his expression a mix of confusion and caution as he looked at the detectives in front of him.

"Robert Lynne," Hensley smirked, his tone mocking and sharp. "You are the main suspect in the Owl killings."

"The f***k," Robert said as his eye wide in disbelief. "The f***k you mean? I'm clean. I have done nothing bad in a while."

Hensley sniffed the air around the man. "Nah, you seem dirty with marijuana."

Collins, standing to Hensley's right, spoke calmly but firmly, trying to offset his partner's aggressive tone. "We're investigating a series of murders. The evidence we've gathered so far points to you. We just need you to come down to the station to answer some questions."

"You got a warrant?" 

"Yeah, we f***kin do." Hensley held up a folded piece of paper right in front of Robert's face.

Robert's grip on the door handle tightened. "You're out of your f***ing minds! I've got nothing to do with any killings. I've been working double shifts for weeks—ask my boss! I even got an injury."

"Double shifts huh." Hensley leaned in. "Funny because there was a blood spatter on the plastic in which Bob Grant's body was wrapped in when we send it to forensics. Your DNA came up."

Robert's face flushed with anger and fear. "Bullsh*t! I don't even know what the f**k  you're talking about! You guys are just looking for someone to pin this on."

Collins interjected, his voice steady but firm. "Look, Robert, this doesn't have to get ugly. If you've got an alibi, we'll confirm it. If you're innocent, you've got nothing to worry about. But refusing to cooperate? That will not help your —."

Hensley gets a phone call from an officer. 

"Sir, a murder just happened in Ridgewood high, a tenth grader, Adam. We found an owl figure again."

Hensley's expression darkened instantly as he processed the call. "Another one?" he growled into the phone. "Damn it. When did it happen?"

"About thirty minutes ago, sir," the officer on the other end replied. "The school security footage shows nothing conclusive, but the victim was found in the sports equipment room. It's a mess."

"What happened?" Collins asked, confused at the frustration of his partner.

"Murder at Ridgewood high, thirty minutes ago." Hensley looks at Robert with anger and frustration. "Basically means Robert over here is..."

"Free," Collins completed the sentence for Hensley. "Sorry mister Lynne."

"You f***king better be." The man slammed the door closed.

Hensley stood on the porch, clenching his fists as the sound of the slamming door echoed in the quiet suburban street. He let out a frustrated sigh, turning to Collins. "F***ing great. Back to square one."

Collins gave him a look of calm resolve. "Not entirely. If Robert's DNA came up on Bob Grant's body, we can't ignore it. But Ridgewood's got to take priority now. His still a suspect so we should have an eye on him."

The two detectives hurried back to their car, the tension in the air palpable. As Hensley started the engine, Collins pulled out his phone, already dialing. "A need Elli there as soon as possible."

The car drove off. 

******

They parked their unmarked car near Ridgewood High. The school building loomed ahead, its facade eerily quiet despite the chaos surrounding it. They step inside, where the students were being held and staff were being questioned. The lead officer walked up to them and introduced himself.

"Officer John Conten." He extended his hand for a handshake. 

Hensley shook his hand. "What happened?"

Collins shook his hand as well as they walked to the crime scene in the sports room. Collin noticed that the CCTV's were working, and that gave him some hope that the killer must have left a slight clue at least.

******

A student seems to be eyeing them tall, lean, Daniel. He looked at them with a smile so small and so eerie no one would notice. So, the hunters have arrived. Or perhaps I should call them prey. It doesn't really matter now, nor will it matter in the end. The roles were chosen the moment they started their little investigation. I am always the hunter. No matter how skilled or experienced the prey might be, a rat will never outmatch an Owl. He thought as he began moving away.

Daniel walked off with his friends and acted normal. No one knew his thoughts, and he liked it that way. He walked out to his mom, who picked him up and took him back to the mansion, unaware that her golden boy had killed another mother's golden boy. 

******

The air inside Ridgewood High was heavy with tension, the kind that clings to a place where tragedy has struck. Hensley and Collins followed Officer Conten down the hallways, the faint murmur of hushed conversations and occasional sobs from staff and students filtering through the air.

"Victim's name is Adam Richards," Conten explained as they approached the sports equipment room. "Fifteen years old. Found by one of the janitors during his rounds. Poor guy's shaken up—he didn't touch anything, but the scene..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "It's not pretty."

Hensley grunted. "These things never are."

As they reached the crime scene, Collins examined the security cameras mounted in the hallway. He noted the small red indicator light blinking steadily. "These cameras are functional?" he asked Conten.

"Yeah, they're working," Conten replied. "But the cameras became unoperational during the period where Adam was most likely murdered."

"F***kin amazing." 

Hensley pushed open the door to the equipment room. Inside, the scene was grim. Adam's lifeless body lay sprawled on the floor, surrounded by toppled equipment. He was pale, limp and the owl figure—a signature of the killer—was perched ominously nearby.

"Damn it," Hensley muttered under his breath, his frustration clear. "This bastard's escalating."

Collins knelt beside the body as he inspected the owl figure. It was identical to the ones left at previous scenes, its eyes carved with unsettling precision. "He's sending the same message," Collins said quietly. "Control. Superiority. He's taunting us."

Hensley stood over him, arms crossed. "Well, he's about to get a rude awakening. Let's see if forensics turns up anything. I want to know who walked into this room."

Elli soon arrived at the scene with gloves on and her brown hair messy as always. She couches beside the body and inspects the body, looking for anything that may help.

"Cause of death strangulation," Elli said she pointed at the deep mark on the boy's neck. "But he was also punched square in the jaw, dislocating at is you can see?"

Collins turned and crouched beside Elli. "That means the killer is probably strong, probably as tall as you, Hens."

"The killer's height... that's a start." 

Collins looked at the body, the pale, limp body and the wide eyes life less. The killer taunting us he is sending a message: I am a step ahead. The f***ker. Killer... Killer... where... are... you? He was lost in thought before Hensley placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Uh," Collins tried to regain composure. "The Owl is most likely hacked the camera because they went unoperational just before Adam's death."

"Great, so we got a serial killer, hacker," Hensley muttered before walking out of the room, slamming the door behind him.