Dimitri sat alone in his darkened living room, the soft glow of his desk lamp casting sharp shadows over the mountain of files before him. Each file held the history of Kian's murders. But it wasn't just about the dead. Dimitri's focus shifted to those who had survived, the family members left behind, and the neighbors who heard the screams too late, the few who managed to escape Thanatos' grasp only to be forever scarred.
The doorbell interrupted his thoughts. He glanced at the door, irritation flashing across his features. He was in no mood for company. But the doorbell rang again, more insistent this time.
With a sigh, Dimitri rose from his chair, stepping over scattered case notes to reach the door. He opened it, and there stood Jaxon.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Dimitri asked, his voice low. He knew Jaxon wasn't the killer, but he was still hiding something about Lydia, and this was not the time for games.
Then again, maybe he was a hypocrite for being pissed at Jaxon for keeping secrets, especially when he had plenty of his own.
Jaxon shrugged, his eyes darting past Dimitri to the files scattered across the table. "Could ask you the same. Looks like you are deep in this copycat mess."
"Yeah, well, some of us don't take random vacations when shit hits the fan," Dimitri retorted, stepping aside to let Jaxon in. "Thought you were avoiding me."
"I was." Jaxon's tone was unapologetic, his gaze lingering on Lydia's photo among the others. "I didn't want to drag you into my mess."
Dimitri raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall. "Your mess? You're finally willing to spill."
Jaxon nodded. "Yeah. Lydia's death. It wasn't supposed to happen. At least, not like that."
Dimitri said, "The copycat got her. We know that."
"Right," Jaxon said, his voice tight. "But it fucked up a case I've been working on. Lydia wasn't just some random woman. She was a defector. She worked for an old mafia family, one I've been trying to take down for years."
Dimitri stared at Jaxon, trying to process the information. "The mafia?"
Jaxon's laugh was hollow, bitter. "She was my way in, Dimitri. She knew names, connections, and everything I needed to blow the whole operation wide open. But then your copycat comes along, kills her just like one of Kian's victims, and I'm left with nothing."
Dimitri tilted his head, studying Jaxon with narrowed eyes. "You're serious?"
"No, I'm just pulling your leg, like usual," Jaxon muttered sarcastically. "Of course, I'm serious. I've been chasing those bastards for years, and now it's all gone because of this twisted copycat of yours."
"Mine?" Dimitri snorted, his lips curving slightly despite the grim topic. "Last I checked, the world's worst murderers weren't always assigned to me like some foster kid."
"Could've fooled me," Jaxon shot back, a hint of his usual humor breaking through. "They seem to follow you around like lost puppies."
Dimitri sighed, shaking his head. "You've got a point."
"I usually do," Jaxon smirked, "You know I'm not blaming you, right? Shit, I feel bad for you for all this mess following you."
Dimitri pushed himself off the wall. "But why didn't you tell me any of this earlier?"
Jaxon said casually, "Because I thought she was found out and killed by them. I knew you'd get involved. And the last thing I wanted was for you to become collateral damage. But since it's not them, I thought I'd tell you."
Dimitri turned away, pacing the small space. "You think it was a coincidence? That the copycat just happened to choose her?"
Jaxon nodded, "I mean, yes!"
"What if there's a chance this copycat's victims are not random," Dimitri murmured, mostly to himself. "What if she's connected to the mafia? What if she knew Lydia, or..."
"Don't go there," Jaxon cut in. He shook his head vehemently. "This isn't the mafia's style. They don't leave pretty corpses with poetic blood patterns. They're cold, brutal, and efficient. If it were them, we wouldn't be staring at a staged display. It'd be a bloodbath, cruel and unforgiving. It's not a crime scene; it's a horror show."
"They're that terrifying, huh?" Dimitri murmured, his gaze flashing with interest, a gleam that made most people flinch.
Jaxon's jaw clenched, noticing that familiar glint in Dimitri's eyes, the one that usually meant trouble.
He leaned forward, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Don't even think about it. You have no idea how bad it is. They're more terrifying than any serial killer or psychopath you've faced. Because it's not just one twisted mind, it's a network of nightmares, a group of predators that hunt together, tearing through anyone who dares get in their way."
He paused, swallowing hard before continuing. "And their leader, he's not just another criminal. He's a ghost that stalks the shadows of the underworld. He's been the invisible hand behind political purges, corporate bloodbaths, and the kind of murders that change the world. Entire families vanish in a single night, corporations collapse without a trace, and it's all done by him."
Dimitri felt a chill creep down his spine, a mix of fear and morbid fascination. His pulse quickened at the idea of someone like that existing.
No—a victim-turned-survivor of Kian's would never be tied to something so deep, so insidious. It was impossible.
But doubt lingered in his mind. Dimitri mentally shook his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. He focused instead on Jaxon; he knew his friend and could see the fear lurking beneath the bravado.
"It's not just about the mafia, is it?" Dimitri asked softly. "You were planning to go undercover, weren't you?"
Jaxon froze, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. "I needed to," he muttered finally. "Lydia was supposed to be my way in. She'd seen too much and wanted out. We struck a deal. She feeds me intel, and I get her somewhere safe, far away from all this."
"And now she's dead." The words fell heavily between them, reminding them both just how unforgiving the world they operated in could be.
Dimitri's eyebrows knit together, concern tugging at his features despite the casual front he always tried to maintain. "Why the hell would you want to go undercover with a family like that? Do you not care about your life?" His voice was light, teasing even, but the edge of worry beneath it betrayed him.
Jaxon gave a short laugh, soft but genuine like he'd just heard a joke that Dimitri didn't get. It drew a frown to Dimitri's face.
"What's so funny?" Dimitri's lips twitched in a faint smile, something almost sad lingering in his eyes. "Seriously, Jaxon, why risk your neck for something like this?"
"Coming from the guy who gets up close and personal with killers and doesn't bat an eye?" Jaxon shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his mouth. "Guess I'm not the only one who's a little reckless."
"Yeah, but I'm already a lost cause," Dimitri muttered, his voice lowering.
Jaxon's expression shifted, a flicker of something softening the lines of his face. Pity, maybe.
He'd always been baffled by it, by how a guy like Dimitri could see himself as anything less than good. It was like Dimitri had decided long ago that he was broken beyond repair, and no amount of proof to the contrary could sway him.
"Don't look at me like that," Dimitri said, the words sharper than he meant. "You've seen what I deal with. I'm not a saint, Jaxon."
Jaxon held Dimitri's gaze. "You're not a monster either, no matter how much you want to believe that."
Dimitri forced a chuckle, shaking his head. "You're more fucked up than I thought if you still see a good guy in me."
"Yeah, well," Jaxon sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a tired smile, "takes one fucked-up guy to know another, right?"
"Whatever you say," Dimitri murmured, but his voice lacked bite. He didn't believe Jaxon's words but for Jaxon's sake, he'd keep pretending.
"Well," Jaxon said, breaking the silence with a lopsided grin. "If you're done interrogating me, how about a drink?"
"Thought you'd never ask," Dimitri replied dryly, a small smile tugging at his lips as they headed to the kitchen.
*****************
"Dimitri?" Axel's voice cut through the haze of his thoughts as he entered the office, followed closely by Agent Carver. "Are you ready for the conference call?"
"Almost," Dimitri replied, his gaze on the printed names scattered across his desk. "I've been poring over the profiles of the victims and their closest connections. I've identified two women who might be our copycat killer."
Dimitri had pulled countless all-nighters, driven by the urgency of the investigation. With more bodies turning up and the media catching wind of the chaos, every move they made was under scrutiny.
He tapped his pen against a sheet, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "These women share striking similarities; each was either a sister or girlfriend of the victims, and they lived together. Both claimed to be away during the crimes, but there's no solid evidence to back that up."
Axel raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into his voice. "Isn't that a bit suspicious? How did the cops miss that?"
Before Dimitri could respond, Agent Carver interjected, "At that point, everyone was fixated on Thanatos. The criminal psychologist assigned to the case profiled him as a man, so the police may not have considered informing their superiors about potential female suspects."
Axel nodded in understanding.
Carver's gaze returned to Dimitri. "What are their names?"
Dimitri began listing the suspects. "First, we have Rachel Marks, the sister of one of the victims. She claimed she was out for a walk, but there are no cameras to verify that. She's been very vocal online about her sister's death, almost seeking attention. Then there's Emily Turner, the victim's girlfriend. She said she had a fight with her girlfriend and stepped outside to let her cool off. She also has a history of abuse, with eyewitnesses often seeing her flee the apartment in distress with bruises. Despite being encouraged to file a report, she never did."
Axel listened intently, clearly intrigued. "And you think one of them is our killer?"
"I believe so," Dimitri replied, frustration creeping into his voice. "But the inconsistencies are maddening. We know Thanatos—Kian—always leaves no survivors or witnesses in his wake. Now we suddenly have two people who miraculously escaped, one of whom has even had direct contact with him. It just makes no sense."
Before Agent Carver or Axel could respond, Dimitri's laptop buzzed to life. He quickly grabbed it, connecting to the conference call with the head of the FBI. A moment later, a stern voice echoed through the speaker.
"Dimitri, Axel, Carver. We've found another body, and it's crucial we catch this copycat killer before things spiral completely out of control."
Dimitri clenched his jaw, the urgency of the situation weighing heavily on him. "We're aware, sir. I've been reviewing the victims' records, and I think we have two potential leads to investigate."
The FBI chief's tone shifted, urgency creeping in. "What do you have?"
"Rachel Marks and Emily Turner. One of them is the killer," Dimitri said in certainty.
"We're counting on you three and your team to handle this. I want you to visit each of these women together. We can't afford to drop our guard."
As the call ended, Agent Carver exhaled slowly, "We need to act fast. We can't allow this to escalate any further."
Axel's expression hardened. "Then let's move. The sooner we interview these women, the better."