February 6 - 1991 - Some dirty place in Chicago

"So... Barry... What are we lookin at here ?" he said after looking at the rather gruesome scene, Barry was an older man, he was in his 50s already going into his 60s, but he looked healthy as a bull to detective Johnson who felt he was falling apart at half Barry age, still he looked at the scene.

A corpse was strewn about in a cross like position, blood painted a whole cross around him on the floor, Barry looked back at Johnson "The victim is Jim Irons, meta human, was a small time hero around here, very small time, he was not all that powerful as well, all he did most of the time according to people was to walk around and stop some bar fights or do some security gigs... " he looked at the boy on the floor "22 years old, powers included super strength and super resistance, nothing to write home about".

The detective was Barry"not liking how Barry was evading the main point, it made him uneasy, but he decided to press a bit "How did he die, he said , looking at the scene forensics man that looked a bit distraught "Someone exploded his heart in... The strength of the punch was enough to break all his rib... that is not the most fucked up part..." he took a deep breath "Somehow whomever did that also, well, drained the blood out of his body".

Johnson was surprised "Exploded... how?" and the man shrugged "no idea... it just exploded... like from inside out... He has no heart left and his blood is all over the place around here". Johnson raised an eyebrow, that was a new one, Barry always had some theory on what happened, well, considering the circumstances was not surprising , "Any known MO that we can pin on someone? Mafia ? Maybe some drug lord?" Johnson said almost with protocol, he didn't believe that any of those would be so loud.

Barry confirmed "Not that I can see... Too religious looking, some random drug lord or mafioso would just have the boy dumped in the river or the lake or ... well Anywhere really. No... Also it is not personal... too crafted for that and no signs of torture..."

the Detective didn't like where that was going, having a potential serial killer was the last thing he needed right now. "What are you saying?" - "You know what I am saying, detective" - Answered Barry. "I need to hear someone speak" he responded a bit at a loss.

Barry looked and sighed "Detective... This was ritualistic, too ritualistic... It is likely we have a serial killer" Johnson sighed "Fuck!" he grabbed his phone "I gotta call the commissary" he said while moving away.

That day was being shitty and it had barely started.

Johnson spent the rest of the day reporting everything to Commissary Joanna Heart, she decided with a few members of the city council and the mayor that it was better not to release things to public for now and start investigating. They chose Detective Johnson to head the investigation.

"Fucking Luck of mine..." he was not amused, he could not turn it down, it would be a bad look for him and his companions and business. He groaned as he walked into the direction of his usual night bar, he had a date, not the kind he liked at least. The scene from earlier was still on his mind, he had a hunch that would not be possible to sleep while sober.

The bar he enters has a security guard, a meta man with steel skin, he recognizes the detective with ease and waves, the detective himself goes in after waving back and taking in the scene. The bar itself was quaint, all around made of wood, reminiscent of prohibition era. He sat down and looked around, "Bill, the Usual... double please".

Bill was a nice bartender, on his 20s, he didn't spoke much but was good at what he did, however this time his expression was puzzled "You are not the type to be looking like that, you are usually smiling like a scumbag" he said as Johnson sighed "gee... thanks for the pep talk... work was messed up" the bartender looked back "I wonder what is needed to get you squirming like that..." Johnson sighed and grabbed the drink when ready, enjoying every sip of it.

Things stayed silent, people coming and going for a while until someone came in, Adrea Marconi , Johnson sighed, "shit" he muttered under his breath and she was coming directly to him with her two meta girls always around her. He faked a smile "Boss! How can I help you?" he looked at her and waved his glass, she looked and judged every moment and every little movement he did.

"Oh, now you want to help me? I want to know why the bitch is still alive? mmm?" her eyes were focused and sharp enough to cut glass, she probably could cut glass with one of her meta girls around her, he didn't like that , he waved her "Look boss... You know how things are, not always things go like planned... I was... held up" he seemed annoyed but didn't want to upset Andrea even more and she didn't seem willing to be pissed off even more. "Held up... what could be more important than doing the things I pay you to do ?" she looked at him with scrutiny and he sighed, he looked around and finished his drink "Not here... Lets go to the office" he said.

She was a bit taken aback but nodded as she went with him,as they enter into an small office area, it had a couch and a shelf full of ledgers and data, it also had a personal computer there on top of a desk. he looked at her with a distressed look as she impatiently spoke "Well... go on then , what can be so important?" - He then took a deep breath "There is a serial killer in town... A nasty one at that and likely a meta one at that..." she looked at him "Worrying , but what do we have to do with it?" and he sat down on the couch of the office and pinched the bridge of his nose "Well lets just say I was place in charge of the investigation".

"Fuck!" were the only words leaving Andrea mouth as she heard it. "Yeah, my exact reaction... This one is also fucked up... Like seriously so, I have seen my fair share of death and bullshit but this is ... fucked up".

"fucked up how?" she said and sat on the other side of the couch as he replied "So far they found only one meta dead... everything was so... ritualistic, disgustingly so, they removed the whole mass of the boy blood and spread out in a cross and weird symbols" , Andrea raised an eyebrow "And you know it is a serial killer with one death?" and he nodded "Yeah I do... everyone did... too ritualistic... it was left there for us to find which means... there are other bodies around."

Andrea clicked her tongue, that could go either way for her, Johnson knew that, more police around asking questions was trouble, they could either start finding her stuff or be so distracted with a serial killer that her business would go unnoticed for a while, regardless it was a coin toss and she would do all in her power to stay out of the police radar.

"Regardless... That is not of our concern right now, when can you put down the bitch that is annoying my business?" then his gaze focused on a random ledger "I will try to stall the investigations and then claim I cannot continue with them after a month, they will just get someone else to go after the killer while I can go low profile again." that answer didn't seem to please her. "A MONTH?".

He cringed a bit after the scream "Yeah... that is the minimum , look boss I am good... I had it all figured out, I even tried to get out of the deal with the Commissary but the mayor got involved and all that... I could not deny it without being too suspicious" despite accepting that explanation she didn't like it one bit "So what... are we supposed to wait a month?" - "You could always get someone else to get the girl where you want it" he said nonchalantly and she groaned "no... She blinded herself for the last YEAR! You get me, she got herself a whole team of wannabe heroes that are hard to get each one of them, she even operates into a different place from the police! We cannot just toss this opportunity, you are the only one close enough to her at this moment... I suppose a month is not that bad" and Johnson smiled "That is what I thought! I will be drinking if you need me, boss"

She waved him off. He went to drink those horrible images out of his mind.