"I'm here to confess to mass murder."

Mike stopped typing and took in the gangly teenager standing across the counter.

"Are you now?"

The kid looked around the precinct with a childlike fascination. "Yeah, but some of the people I've killed haven't died yet."

"Ah," Mike sighed. It was going to be one of those days. He needed a smoke. "So have you, or have you not killed anyone?"

"I have. I might have killed you too."

Mike snorted, but then wondered if the little psycho might try something. He used an instant messenger on his desktop to alert his partner, Rico, that they might have an unpredictable loony in the house.

Every Halloween, man, Rico replied.

Keep an eye on him while I'm typing up his report, will ya?

Sure thing.

"Let's start from the top, your name?"

"John Smith."

"I'm going to need a form of identification."

"Don't have any." The kid smiled widely and poked at the little pumpkin that sat on the counter. A plastic bracelet hung from his wrist.

"Who's the victim?"

"I don't know their names."

"So, why are you confessing today?"

The kid shrugged and smiled. "The first few hundred were fun. Watching them drop like flies gave me a rush." He looked up at the ceiling, his eyes full of wonder as if he was describing a fantastic dream. "But now we're in the thousands, and I thought that it's time to stop. I don't want to kill everyone."

Mike cleared his throat, wishing he had a glass of water nearby. This kid's grin was creeping him out. Even if it was a sick prank, there was definitely something off about him.

"Where are the victims?"

"Everywhere? I don't know," the kid laughed.

Mike wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. He was ready for his shift to be over.

"We're going to need more information," he said and wondered why it came out so mumbly.

The kid giggled and bit on his lower lip. "Are you feeling lightheaded, Sergeant?"

Someone behind him started coughing. Mike ignored the question. "Let me see that bracelet."

The kid smiled and eagerly offered his skinny wrist. As Mike suspected, it was a hospital bracelet, but instead of having the kid's name or date of birth, it said,

PATIENT ZERO.

Mike frowned, his thoughts getting muddled. "Which hospital..." words were difficult to get out, his tongue heavy, "did you..."

He leaned his elbows on the counter, feeling his knees go weak. What was going on?

"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the kid said with a sigh. "That fast? I was really hoping that someone would stop me."

Mike's legs gave out under him, and he collapsed to the floor. As he laid there, struggling to breathe, he saw Rico and everyone else in the precinct drop as he did. He tried to reach for the phone, but his arm crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

"I tried," the kid yelled over the counter.