The distant barking of the dogs broke the silence of the cold night. The humidity fogging up the car windows. Weaving through the wet and muddy roads of NYC, there were quite a lot of things on Mayra's mind.

Who'd called? Why at 2AM? Why did Mr.Fuller seem in a hurry? Is it the person responsible for all disappearances? Did Mr.Beckham magically pop up out of nowhere? Why are Oreo so overrated? Why is Shakespeare, Shakespeare?

But the one thought she prioritized the most was, "Do not crash Mom's car."

Halting abruptly in front of the building, she raced inside the quiet office. To her surprise finding almost everyone absent except for her intern partner, Eddie Brock and a few other people from the main team. Eddie's face lay flat on the desk and his spectacles in a crooked position over his forehead. She looked over at Samantha who stared back at her blankly, her expression as clear as the crystals indicating she was not up for a talk.

Mayra walked over Eddie to find him sleeping, drool dripping on his desk. She shook his shoulders and with an abrupt motion he sat up fixing his glasses over the bridge of his nose.

"What? Why?... Oh you're here," Eddie said, his dazed mind still comprehending his surroundings.

"You drool when you sleep," Mayra stated blankly. "Why did he call?"

"Oh the murderer called the office, gave away his location, apparently he also has all the dead bodies stored there."

The word murderer and dead bodies pounded through Mayra's head. She looked over Samantha, hoping she would hit Eddie with a laptop for spilling such hideous lies. But she did no such thing. Instead she gave a small nod, confirming what Mayra had dreaded the most.

Mayra wanted to work on a murder mystery. Mayra so badly wanted to untangle one. Mayra wanted murder mysteries to be the highlight of her career. All those murder mystery games she played as a young girl propelled her forward to choose criminology as her major. Her whole ambition was powered up by the thought of solving a thrilling, spine chilling murder mystery. But now when she was at the face of it, nothing about solving murder mysteries seemed exciting. Not when she saw so many families lamenting about the disappearances of their loved ones, still holding onto a feather of hope that they'll find the criminal responsible and reunite the victims back with their families. That feather of hope was now swept away by the storm, ripping it into pieces of nothingness. The faces of so many families flashed through her head, and the one that struck her hard was Amelia and her little sisters'. How were they to deliver such gut wrenching news? How were they to deliver that one sentence that could plunge them into a pool of misery and sorrow?

She swallowed the lump in her throat and asked, "Where?"

"A warehouse North of the city, near a gas station," spoke Samantha.

"It could be any gas station north of New York," an exasperated sigh escaped from Mayra's lips.

"Kwik Trip, that's where they are headed right now," replied Eddie.

Mayra took a seat as various thoughts engulfed her. She spun in her chair, clicking the back of the pen frustratingly as she pieced her thoughts together.

"You said he called, did you guys note down the number?" Mayra asked, pulling her curls into a bun and rocking the pen back and forth between her finger tips.

"Yeah, we noted down the number."

"Then why the fuck did you not track it?" Mayra asked, annoyed by Eddie's stupidity.

"I didn't have the orders, they all sprinted out of the building doors like lightning bolts!" Eddie yelled back, irked by her stern and accusatory tone.

"Orders don't really matter when you're facing off a murderer, you dickhead. Track the number down right now!" Mayra yelled back.

Eddie murmured something along the lines of Mayra not making any sense because he must've ditched off the number anywhere and how she should learn to track numbers by herself. Mayra ignored his annoying murmuring ass. She believed it was worth a try. It could at least lead to some clues.

***

Number traced. Address ready. But no one knew what to do with that piece of information until further notice. The ticking of the clock echoed through the room in addition to Eddie's snores. Mayra was on her second cup of coffee since she got here. It was now 3:30AM and they hadn't been notified of any updates. After another fifteen minutes of wait, her phone buzzed. Mr. Fuller was calling, igniting hopes of them having caught the serial killer in Mayra's heart.

"Is everything alright, sir?"

"The warehouse has been incinerated a few hours ago, no sign of any bodies. All ashes, no sign of that goddamned son of a bitch either."

"We've traced down the number and its origin. Address is 675A Douglaston Parkway-"

"Get there with the rest of the team, do not do anything reckless. We're too far off."

"Alright sir," Mayra said as her insides twisted over the possibility of encountering something harrowing.

After calling the backup, Mayra got into her car with Eddie and Samantha. Driving harshly towards their destination. Her heart hammering against her chest as her sweaty palms jerked the steering wheel to a sharp right. Screech.

"Do you have a fucking license?" Eddie barked holding onto his seatbelt tightly while Samantha just shot daggers through her eyes at her.

"Shut up Ed, at least I can drive."

Approaching the neighborhood, Mayra drove smoothly keeping in mind the fact that the murderer could still be here and any sort of odd atmosphere could trigger the murderer to run away. The police following Mayra had also disguised themselves in a Black Ford Focus in order to not raise any sort of alarm in the neighborhood.

Mayra stopped at 675A, taking in the bricked architecture of the house. White windows, white doors, well maintained green lawn, a Subaru Impreza parked outside in the garage. This didn't look like a home of the killer.

She took in a deep breath, holstered her gun which Mr. Fuller gave the interns only for special circumstances and made her way to the front door, following Samantha's lead, while the backup surrounded the house from all sides. Dim lights escaped through the white curtains, the noise of the basketball match on the TV creeped outside, smell of lasagna lingered in the air. Someone was here. Or had been here. Everything seemed so normal that it was bizarre.

Samantha tried opening the door, but of course it was locked. So being the badass that she was, she broke it open with a heavy rock that lined up the pathway to the front door.

Samantha barged in, her gun ready, prepared to investigate the house as Mayra, Eddie and three of the backups followed after her. All were ready for a fight against the murderous monster.

Mayra's mind grew restless, giving her a review of all sort of gory scenarios. Nauseous, she tried numb her thoughts down, focus on the trigger of the gun, or the basketball match playing on the TV, or the smell of the delicious lasagna. Hair stood up on the back of her neck, her heart thundered and her thoughts collided. This was not good. She had to concentrate. Or else she was as good as the maroon rug on the floor.

Stop it.

She chanted in her mind, scolding it to focus. Finally Samantha spoke up, engaging her mind in an activity she'd be doing rather than pondering over the limitless possibilities of how she could be skinned.

"Split up and search this place down," Samantha ordered.

"Don't think that's necessary."

Coming out from the washroom beside them, was a man in forty's. He wiped his wet hands and greeted the team with an innocent grin.

"Name's Blake, nice to meet y'all."