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Michael's favorite color is pink, pastel pink to be exact. He works alongside two other psychotic murders, Luke and Ashton, the two broken and demented lovers.
Ashton is focused on Luke and Luke only. He's pining after a love that does...
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Calum leaned on his forearms on his knees, staring at the board on his apartment wall with ire. He threaded his fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots as he sighed out loud. His eyes slowly started to drop, exhaustion pulling at his eyelids as he dropped his head into his hands. He drifted off in his spot, dropping to the couch on his side. His phone went off, his guard going back up as he flinched out of his light sleep. He reached around for it blindly, eventually curling his fingers around it as he rubbed his face tiredly.
"Yeah, Harry?" He huffed into the phone.
"Tomlinson wants you to come down in an hour or so."
"What the hell? It's my day off!"
"I-I know but...but it's the Heartbreaker." Harry muttered off, voice softer as Calum sat up on the couch, instantly alert from Harry's words.
He told the other officer he'd be there soon and hung up before the brunet could speak again. He got off the couch, going to his room as he stripped out of his sweats and left them scattered in the hallway that lead to his room. He pulled on a wife beater, slipping his button up onto his shoulders and rolling the sleeves to his elbows after buttoning himself up. He tugged on his slacks, leaving his hair to do what it felt like as he grabbed his wallet, keys, and phone.
Leaving the apartment, Calum locked his door behind himself and jogged down the steps that lead to the downstairs floor. He unlocked his car a few feet away, popping the door open and climbing in once he made it close enough.
As much as he was exhausted and sure that if he went to sleep, he'd probably never wake back up, Calum would push through to go in and look over the case of the infamous, and poorly named in Calum's opinion, 'Heartbreaker'. One of the rookies started saying it around the station and it just caught on until Louis just said it as well.
Every scene was gruesome, some more and others less. Calum still knew that Harry helped hating either way because of all the blood and the knife through the poor victims heart. Calum had gotten accustomed to stomaching the scene before him, staring with a small bit of remorse for the victim before getting to work when told.
He turned his silent sirens on, getting out of his car and walking straight into the house. He could already smell the air tainted with blood as he walked to where Louis was standing and Harry was cringing. He took the gloves Harry passed to him, pulling them onto his hands as Louis declared the scene ready for investigation. The blue eyed boy and brown eyed boy crouched down to the dead girl, not minding the puddle of blood that surrounded her when they did so.
"The blade was taken from her kitchen, stab wound to the heart, as usual, and one to the bottom of her spine. Broken nose, bleeding in the brain plus a fracture, and concussion." Louis listed, both men looking up when Harry gagged as he stepped in a puddle of blood to listen in. "Do I need to send you home, Styles?"
"N-No, sir. I'm fine."
Louis rolled his eyes passing Calum the note that made him furrow his eyebrows as he read over it: 'How much do I miss you? More than you miss me. Is blood enough to make you come back for me?'
"Same cursive as the note at the last scene." Calum muttered out.
"Same person?" Harry tried, completely looking Calum in the eyes to avoid the scene below him.
"Possibly. I'm leaning more towards it's a different person but they work together closely."
Louis nodded, seemingly more convinced with Calum' theory basing if off of the look of this murder scene and the two from a few weeks ago. This was the work of a murder and psychopath who thrives off of gore which was the same case of the boy with a knife drove through his heart, weeks ago was the work of a sociopath who thought it was an art.
"Smith wants you to go down to the station to talk with him, then you're free to go, Hood. Apologies for calling you in on your day off."
"It's fine, Tomlinson. I was just thinking off the last murder." He said nonchalantly as they walked from the house, which was now swarmed with detectives analyzing the scene.
He watched as Louis went over to Harry, who's head was tilted towards the floor in attempt to calm himself down. As much as Calum hated having to work on a case without his partner and work with some rookie, he silently asked for Louis to make Harry sit out or at least work from the sidelines in reports and filing with this case. Harry was a cop but he couldn't stand blood. He could talk someone off the ledge, disassemble a bomb, and handle hostile situations but as soon as blood was in the picture, Harry was out.
It was the main reason Harry hadn't been moved to a different location too, not his skills at work. Louis kept him on because Calum made up for Harry's sickness around any blood. The Maori man didn't mind though, he took the slack for Harry's absence on the scenes if he didn't show and filled him in, without the mentions of blood, later.
He strolled through the station, avoiding the bustle as he nodded at a few officers who greeted him. He knocked on the door of Cory's office, going in without waiting for a response as the other man turned around with a bright grin on his face.
"Calum Hood, Lovely to see you come down. I have great news about the blond murdered three weeks ago." He said cheerfully, peeling his gloves off his hands and going over to a drawer. "What makes arrows fly and kites soar?"
Calum furrowed his eyebrows, knowing he'd have to figure the riddle out to get some type of direction to what Cory had to say, "String?"
He smiled brightly that Calum figured it out, passing the bag of bloody thread to Calum, the olive skinned boy looking at him for some type of explanation as to why.
"It's the thread from his neck."
"I know, Cory, but why are you giving it to me?"
"There's only one place in town that sells that grade of thread and that hue. Dakota's. So, I called it in and I found out she gets it on a special order, every month on the first Tuesday." Cory explained as he watched Calum nod, slowly catching onto what he was getting at. "And, in a week the same person who orders it should go to the store to pick it up. All you guys have to do is wait for her to call."
"God, Cory. You're a life saver. I'll call Harry and Tomlinson about it." Calum breathed out, letting Cory take the bag filled with thread as he nodded with the same bright smile.
"Good luck, Calum."
{~~~~}
And, another one bites the dust!
Buuuuuttt thank you for reading. Have an off topic question with your pizza ....(>~<)/ 🍕. What if I told you, I have a book coming out about a school that's like the demented inspiration from Etiquette and Espionage....haha, just kidding...unless? 🤔
No but seriously. Would you guys want to read that...or?
