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Detective John had spent 20 years scouting and solving the gravest and twisted mysteries, and seeing a massacre in front of him did not let the coffee and waffles he had in breakfast come out instead; his heartbeat quickened, and the old saggy muscles of his middle-aged body flexed with power that no Zumba class would ever do for him. Being on a case made him alive, and solving it even earlier than the new recruits gave him a hike in pride.

 

‘It’s the fourth case as this, sir,’ squeaked his assistant, a skinny 20-year-old barely out of college. He started earlier than this boy but has never squeaked around his boss. No, he believed in solving the case independently from the start. It is a shame, though, how the panel thought of putting him on any case when at least four people have died. All the unnecessary drama could have been avoided.

 

‘I want all the case files on my desk.’

‘Already placed, sir, but they have nothing in common. The killer is going on a mad killing spree.’

John let out a dry laugh, ‘No serial killer works without a pattern. You need to be mad enough to see it.’

 

A 60-plus widower living with her two cats and a tenant on the top floor who was out that weekend was killed. Next up is a co-corporate man in his 30s, with a healthy relationship with his finances and a good luxury apartment.

Then, there was a college student with a low profile, meager savings, and no drug cases or police records. And finally, married women with caring husbands and two kids.

 

Four victims with no physical contact or any relation in any aspect. No particular age or same gender. No mutual friends or enemies. There are no timeline clashes of any kind. It's like they might have never even met on the road.

 

But all received the same cruel death. All were attacked, drugged, and had their hearts surgically removed before their bodies were switched close. Apparently, a medical expert had attacked them.

 

The killer had struck at odd times when all of them were reported to be alone in their homes. The forensics team came up with no evidence at all the crime scenes.

 

Laying all the facts around his table, John could build a jigsaw puzzle. Somehow, the killer had delivered all the pieces to him, but one small piece had been lost somewhere. And that held the answer to the entire mystery.

‘What are the updates from the organ smuggling department.’

‘No smuggling of Human hearts has taken place anywhere nearby.’

‘After 6 hours, that heart is useless anyways. So, why are they keeping them.’

‘Maybe they are making a trophy collection, sir.’

‘Read less of old hunter stories and give me a tech update.’

‘Well, out of the four victims, two had CCTV cameras installed around their house, and both show a delivery person knocking on the door and leaving the place without giving the parcel.’

 

‘And I assume the parcel gets filled with a heart when he leaves.’

‘Yes, sir, though we cannot track him, and his description is hidden under his mask and goggles.’

‘Obviously’

‘Though now we have issued a warning not to let in any unknown delivery personnel.’

‘Yes, this would stop him.’

The intern was still babbling about their phones and search history. But John was zoned off now and imagining what had happened. A knock on the door, a surprise package, an attack on the head from behind, and after the murder, leaving unbothered.

 

Two things were clear: the killer was good at medical procedures but weak in technology because he kept the CCTV footage alive. This made him a middle-aged person. Probably a male for brute strength and cold-blooded, messy murder. But then, one can never be sure.

Why he was collecting hearts was another question. What was the strange obsession with hearts?

The killer no doubt was fearless to go on a killing spree in such a small town. In Metros, it's easier to hide, but here, he would be caught soon enough. One flaw, and down he goes.

 

But he thought of the killer’s aloofness too soon as the phone rang to report another attack.

 

This time, it had occurred in broad daylight in the backroom of a busy restaurant. Ironically, the young waitress was alone to receive the afternoon’s food delivery, and all the rest were engaged in lunch preparations.

 

Even standing and taking everyone’s report, John knew the killer had gone with his delivery long ago.

After a grueling brainstorming for half a day and witnessing the bodies of 2 victims, fatigue and frustration had both caught up to him. Sliding into a café, he ordered coffee to calm his thoughts. His phone was buzzing with all the news edits of the case. Soon, the reporters will make this a national emergency and cause widespread panic.

 

It's a good thing they had not started hounding him for questions. He considered the flies buzzing around the case an unnecessary distraction and a way to idolize the killer’s actions.

 

The attention is what they all want these days. Even these people on social media attract an audience waiting for their likes. But it's fun scrolling, and on days as such, it's even relaxing. He even felt generous enough to like a few videos. There is no need to be ashamed. After all, everyone is attracted to social media. ‘Everyone.’ The pieces fell into place as he stood up and took out his phone. ‘Yeah, I am interested to hear about their phones now.’

 

His desk had a laptop this time, and the intern was hacking into all accounts. ‘

‘Search for the common follower they have.’

‘There is no one, sir. The old lady did not follow anyone.’

‘It is not an influencer or a big shot person. It is an attention seeker we are dealing with, and he hates the fact that he is a nobody. But he got obsessed with the ones who liked. Check into their last liked videos. They all liked the same person’s video.’

 

‘Not video, sir, his painting.’ The intern turned the screen to show the artist who became a killer.

 

‘Why is he not even hiding his location? We can send an arrest team now.’

‘Well, I thought he was not a technical guy. It looks like he kept technology in place so that his actions are known. He went out to collect the hearts he got as likes. He wants fame, but he will not get it. We will ensure a quiet arrest and case closed.’

‘What about the media, sir?’

‘Tell them it’s a story they won’t like.’