A typical night at the Redwood Police Department office desk. Forty-five-year-old Homicide Detective Robert Maxwell took his time looking through photographs of victims from the table. Despair formed on his face when he stared at the images of ten men and women disfigured. Humidity stifled the air. His face became sweaty. He even ignored the divorce papers laying on his desk, dreading the mistake that cost him his marriage.

Robert hadn't come across murders like the ones he saw in the photos. He rubbed his light brown forehead in frustration, his fingers curved against his short black Caesar haircut. The killings had ritualistic style, and they followed a particular pattern. He sat and thought for a moment. Looking at the pictures, Robert noticed a letter "a" carved into the victim's head.

Arms and legs severed from the victim's body and some missing their eyes or tongues. His gut told him the killings had an eerie representation of a copycat that mimicked the Scavenger of Redwood, Washington.

Detective Maxwell heard a knock at the door. "Come in."

An officer opened the door and walked in. "You got a visitor."

"Okay, send them in." Robert placed the images back into a folder along with the divorce papers, while closing it up and concealing it in his desk drawer.

Robert adjusted the red tie around the collar of his neck. A young woman came into his office. It was someone he recognized. It was Jennifer Myers, his son Jordan's girlfriend, whom he hadn't seen in two years. She was wearing a brown coat that covered her sever uniform.

Her brown hair wrapped in a bun, her brown eyes spoke of fear and worry. She sat herself down on a brown chair. This was the first time Jennifer entered Robert's office. Her awkward glance at him was clear.

"Jennifer, what brings you here?" Robert asked. "It has been a while since I last saw you. How's that grandson of mine, Kevin?"

"He is getting bigger." Jennifer smiled. She showed a picture of Kevin from her cell phone to Robert.

"Kevin asked about you." Jennifer smiled.

Robert smirked, taking her cell phone to look at the picture. "Handsome little devil. He got my nose. How is Jordan?"

"Yeah, Kevin is," Jennifer gasped for a moment. "There is something I need to talk to you about."

"Okay." Robert glanced at her.

"It's about Jordan. He is missing."

He lost eye contact with Jennifer after taking in the information of what she said, while placing her cell phone on the table.

Robert's heart pounded faster as panic filled his eyes, knowing his son was missing. Fear and dread overwhelmed his senses. The idea of a maniac kidnapped his son put him on edge.

"Missing, what do you mean?" Robert handed back her cell phone.

"He hasn't returned my calls. He has been gone for days. It is not like him to do that and he always texts and calls me. I am really worried. Kevin cried, missing his Dad. It is hard for both of us."

"Can you tell me when was the last time you saw Jordan?"

"Okay, Jordan and I were invited to our neighbor Mark Field's birthday."

"Where is his address?"

"Sunnyside Ave on 9 Street."

"I'm gonna find him." Robert reached for his black coat from the chair, while walking out with Jennifer from the office, opening the door for her to exit the room. "I will need you and Kevin to stay over at Amber's. You think you can do that?"

"Yeah, I can." Jennifer nodded and gave a reassuring look.

"Alright." Robert walked to the door.

"Where are you going?"

Robert turned around and glanced at Jennifer. "To do what I do best."

One officer called out to him from the hallway. "Detective Maxwell, there was a murder at 8 Pond Ave. A triple homicide."

"Get Ross on the case." Robert said in a stern tone, walking out of the police department.

Robert walked toward his car. He heard a beeping noise from his cell phone when he reached for his pocket. His eyes lit up at what he saw. Robert's head was spinning. It was a picture of Jordan bound by rope on the table with a white gag over his mouth. At the back of the photo, was a phone number to call. He quickly called the number and it rang two times. Someone picked up on the other end.

"Hello, Detective Maxwell. It is so good to hear your voice. I hope you enjoy the present I sent you," the Masked killer said.

"Where is my son you sick fuck?" Robert sat inside the car, gripping the steering wheel.

"Wow, Detective, I didn't know I would get a rise out of you so soon. The masked killer chuckled. "Your son is alive for now."

"Put him on the phone."

"No, he can't come to the phone now."

"I will find you." Robert gripped the phone. "When I do, I'll put a bullet in your head."

"I would like to see you try. But first, I want you to play a game for me. Think of it as "hide and seek." I just texted you an address where I want you to go. There you will find a clue. If I don't hear from you in the next hour, I will mail pieces of your son to you the next business day. We will keep in touch, Detective Maxwell!" The Masked killer hung up the phone.

Robert was beside himself, banging his hand on the steering wheel, cursing up a storm. If he didn't play the killer's game, he would lose his son. Jennifer would never forgive him and his grandson would be fatherless. He had to act fast. Time was running out for Jordan. He couldn't fail his son and he would do what was necessary to save him.

"I will find you Jordan," Robert said, promising himself. "I will get you back to Jennifer. I won't fail you son."

                          * * *

Darkness surrounded the room. Jordan Maxwell woke up hands and ankles bound by rope on the wooden table as if ready for a sacrifice. He yelled for help. Fear echoed in his rasped voice. How he regretted going out to a neighbor's birthday party and ended up in a place like this. The lights came on. Jordan noticed plastic covering the floor and walls. Baby doll heads painted in white, hanging from the ceiling on wire. There were many disturbing photographic images plastered on the wall. They depicted images of mutilated bodies. Jordan almost vomited. What creeped him out the most, was that the victims from the photographs were missing eyes and had deep cravings of a letter on their heads.

Jordan heard heavy footsteps, coming down the steps. He lifted his head and saw a man dressed in blue Jeans, black sweater, with a black hood. He had a golden mask on his face that showed no expression. In his hand, he held a big kitchen knife with a brown hilt. The blade glistened against the light.

"Please, don't kill me." Jordan bit his lower lip. "I have a girlfriend and a baby boy. You can take my money and call it a day."

The Masked killer walked up, observing him. He watched him breathe heavily as he placed the blade against his throat. Jordan didn't say a word, sensing if he uttered a word, he would die.

"I don't want your money," the Masked killer said in a mechanical voice." My needs are much more in-depth." The Masked killer teased Jordan's right face with the blade.

"Please, I have a family." Jordan eye's lit up, trying to plead with him. The masked killer put pressure on Jordan's throat with glaring cold eyes.

"Say one more word. One more word that comes out of your mouth, will be your last."

Jordan remained silent. He heard a shaky man's voice and bangs from the other room. The Masked killer took the knife off of Jordan's throat.

He walked away to open a brown wooden door to the other room. The Masked killer closed the door behind himself. Jordan gasped for a moment. He struggled to break free from his confines.

Jordan grunted in frustration. He heard something familiar. It was his cell phone ringing by the table next to him. He knew his girlfriend, Jennifer, was calling him. Jordan strained, reaching the table with his right foot. It was three inches from the table. Jordan swung his right foot, hitting against the table with his shoe.

The cell phone fell on the floor. He cursed under his breath. The man in the other room screamed louder with a cry. It sounded as if an animal was put to death.

Jordan heard silence from the man in the other room. There were several loud thuds that sounded off with squishing noises. It made his body tense. Sweat was forming on his face as he squirmed to break free of his restraints.

Jordan heard something close to him as he wiggled against the rope. He looked over to his left, Jordan saw someone come out of a crawl space. It was a boy about ten years of age that had pale skin. He was dressed in tattered dark clothes and had brown shoes with holes in them. The boy walked over to Jordan out of the shadows. Eager to meet the captive in an enthusiastic manner.

"Hey, what is your name?"

"My name is Sam," the boy said with curious eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Sam. Can you do me a favor? I'm tied up. Can you get me my cell phone for me," Jordan said pointing to the cellphone that was two inches from his foot.

Sam stared at Jordan. He picked up the cell phone like it was foreign to him. "Okay." He walked slowly to Jordan with the phone in hand and was about to hand it to him.

Then, out of the blue, Sam heard footsteps from the wooden panel above him. "I am not supposed to be here." Out of fear, he dropped the cell phone on the corner of the table and went back into the crawl space.

Jordan whispered. "Wait, I need my cell phone."

Without hesitation, Jordan, with all his strength, kicked his cell phone under the table. He took a moment to breathe. Fearful of what's to come. The door opened. The Masked killer walked in with blood, covering his sweater and pants.

Droplets of blood leaked from his hands. Hope was fleeting for Jordan. His only move was to keep the cell phone out of the Masked killer's sight. Jordan had to swallow his pride. He only thought of one simple intention, calling his father. But could he keep the Masked killer busy enough to do it? All Jordan had to do was stay alive long enough to do just that.

"Now, we are going to have some fun," the Masked killer said. "Just you wait and see. I don't get to kill you tonight."

"So, does that mean you will let me go?"

"Why would I do a thing like that? I can't have you running around to the police." The Masked killer walked up to him. "I have other plans for you." He caught off Jordan's index finger off.