February 26, 1997. First victim. Victor Crenshaw. He will make a fine specimen indeed. He is quite the anomaly. He is a medical prodigy, therefore, I dissect. This should be fun, don't you think?

February 28, 1997. Victor's dead already. That wasn't nearly as much fun as I'd hoped. I suppose he is no longer a medical prodigy, is he? No matter. I will try again next year.

February 26, 1998. Second victim. Carlee Chavez. The spelling of her name humors me so. She is a very pretty lady, and I can't wait to see how pretty she is on the inside. I find that there is nothing more beautiful than a clean bill of health, don't you agree?

February 28, 1998. This time, I didn't kill the patient too early on. She's still alive, for the time being. The sound of her scream makes me feel such an energy. It's a surprisingly pleasing sound. I had quite the laughing fit yesterday. And you should see her liver! So healthy. It's a sign of long term sobriety. I doubt she's ever had a drink. But that's fine by me.

March 3, 1998. She's finally dead. I was beginning to wonder about her level of immortality. I've never seen someone live without their left lung for so long before. I had to remove it for experimentation. As it would happen, she had lung cancer, so she was bound to die anyway. If anything, I helped her along to the other side.

February 26, 1999. Third victim. Margaret Alsup. There isn't much to say about this one. She doesn't intrigue me quite like Victor and Carlee. But perhaps I can make it fun. Wish me luck.

February 28, 1999. I was wrong about Margaret. She's quite fun when she screams. She actually begs for me to stop. Why on earth would I do such a thing? I'm having too much fun to stop.

March 25, 1999. I believe I have found the key to keeping the patients alive. Blood. That's what they lose the most of, so by keeping them filled with blood, they live longer. Which means more fun for Doctor Cassel.

February 26, 2005. Eighth victim. Geoffrey Pirtle. I'm sure I will have much fun with Mr. Pirtle. Though I don't see us getting on for some reason. I wouldn't see why, though. Pain is medicine.

February 28, 2005. I was right, he doesn't like me. But that's fine by me. I have no friends. Friends are for sane people.

March 29, 2005. It's been a most interesting month. Geoff is still alive, I call him Geoff, and his screams bring me joy. There's something about the sounds of pain that give me the most unadulterated pleasure. Call me a madman if you'd like, but let's face it, we all have guilty pleasures.

April 1, 2005. Today is a dreary day. I thought I would have fun, but then I find Geoff without a beat of his heart. That troubles me so. I liked Geoff the most so far. He wore horn rimmed glasses. I like horn rimmed glasses.

February 26, 2014. Seventeenth victim. Elisabeth Haddock. She will be a fun patient for certain. Her eyes are the most radiant shade of azure I've ever had the pleasure to see. And I cannot wait to pluck them from her skull and dissect them. She will never "see" it coming. Oh, a clever boy I am.

February 28, 2014. This is the most disappointing year of my life. As it turns out, Elisabeth hanged herself, so I have no one to dissect. Doctor Cassel is sad now. Instead of Elisabeth, I was forced to dissect myself for entertainment. Perhaps next year will be more fruitful.

February 26, 2015. Eighteenth victim. Karisa Sallee. She is a detective working on a case to track me down and arrest me. Come and find me, Karisa. I dare you.

~

She typed furiously into the computer, "Demarcus Cassel". She's done this before many times, but the internet provided nothing. This was a case she's been working on since 2009. It was never assigned to her, but she took it on anyway. The mystery of Demarcus Cassel boggled her mind. Once a year, every year, he snatched a victim, and that victim was never seen or heard from again. But the question remained; how?

All she could find on Demarcus was the newspaper articles and fan theories. How a man such as Demarcus Cassel could have "fans" was beyond her. They even wrote fanfiction about him online. It was so sickening to her to know that people looked up to a man like this.

It was late at the office as she perused the internet looking for information. And she came up empty handed, until she found a website dedicated to Demarcus, called DeductingDemarcus.com. She clicked on it, and she found herself in the midst of a Demarcus fanbase overload. The homepage began with an introductory.

Hello. I'm Warner Hepburn. Welcome to Deducting Demarcus. Here you will find all that is known about the infamous Demarcus Cassel. There may not be much, yet all at once, perhaps everything. Click this link below to see the Cassel massacre of 1987. This is believed to be Demarcus's origin story. There are also fanfictions available, and you can purchase merchandise as well. Please enjoy everything Demarcus Cassel!

She clicked on the link to the newspaper article, and saw exactly what she needed that could blow this case wide open. In 1987, a boy named Demarcus Cassel murdered his father and brother, Dominick. There was no reported arrest, as Demarcus was nowhere to be found. But no matter, she would surely find him. Today was February 27. Demarcus day.

She printed the article and shut down her computer, looking at her watch. 11:57. It was almost time.

She went to the printer and retrieved the article. She went back to her desk to gather her things and leave when she saw something that wasn't there before. A dead black rose with a note that said "Dearest Elissa, yours truly, Demarcus Cassel."

She turned around, only to be knocked unconscious and dragged away into the night.

~

She awoke in a musty warehouse, tied to what appeared to be an operating table. She looked all around her, trying to gather what was going on. She quickly figured it out, when a pale man in a jet black suit approached her with a scalpel.

"You're Demarcus, aren't you?"

The corners of his lips twitched upward into a grin. "Smart detective," He spoke with a soft English accent. "I like people who are smart. I like you, Karisa."

"What're you gonna do now? Kill me?"

He chuckled maniacally, as though it were a joke. "I would not kill you, no. That's not possible in this room, my dear. Besides, where would the fun be?"