Multiple

its not finished yet but im still working on it and will finish it up.

From the start I knew I was different I knew I was well they put it as distant but I knew I was just something else. Like nothing in this world of integrity. I was just different. But that’s not important what’s important is me. My name Is Ashley, Ashley Gampel I grew up on a farm two hours away from the nearest town and city. Some may call it boring or mundane but for me it was living and always will be. At the age of 15 I knew what I wanted to be a homicide investigator but by the age of 17 that dream faded due to the fact that I had tried to commit suicide on multiple occasions due to the often mood swings and depression that I go through. But as that dream quickly faded another quickly replaced it and this one would change my life. This new dream criminal psychology. I wanted to know what they thought and how they thought it. What they were thinking to provoke this behavior. So I graduated high school and moved on to college with this dream still in mind. I studied and studied to reach this goal. Then I graduated college at the top of my class in criminal psychology. With my degree in one hand and my knowledge in the other I headed in to the career of criminal behavior and years passed and crimes came in and went out unsolved with my help behind them. Until one came in I didn’t know what it was about this case but it just called to me like I was meant to work this case. So I did on arrival of the files I quickly laid them out and read them thoroughly. As weeks passed I involved myself in this case not knowing what about it that drew me too it. And as the weeks flew by with no progress the more files of victims from this killer stacked up. No evidence no notes just the same MO it just didn’t seem right to me. So I went out into the field to investigate further I went to all of the murder scenes and they all looked so familiar I just couldn’t put my finger on it. It was almost like I was there before. But I just shook it off and kept doing my investigation. As I rode back with my escort home I thought of the irony of a crazy emotionally unstable person going after another and how I loved to do so.  But I just had to accept the fact that I was different not crazy.

Back at the office the next day I looked at the photos of the victims and the locations of the murders and saw that all of the locations that the murders were at had the numbers 337 those numbers so familiar. They were my dad’s id numbers in the military. But it had to be a coincidence. As I shoved the files to the side. To revisit them later I sat there and thought about the id number and decided to keep looking for clues in the case and found two things all of the female victims were named Ann my mother’s name and the second thing was that they all had a son with brown hair and blue eyes which were the charteristics of my brother that died in a car accident when I was 7.  I knew that it had to be coincidence but I just couldn’t help but think that there had to be something between me and the killer. But I just went on. As more days passed I sat there at my desk and stared and thought about this case and couldn’t help but think that there was something missing in the case. Why there wasn’t any evidence this killer was like non I have ever studied they were perfect no trace not even a dead skin cell. It was odd it was like they were a ghost. Then I glanced up the mail man must had been here before cause there was a manila folder on my desk I picked it up and stared at it the mailing address was unknown. But if it was unknown how could it have gotten here. My heart sunk the killer had come to my office just to deliver something. I rose up out of my chair sprinting down the hall to the director’s office. Bursting in the door I saw the director there in his chair staring at me. His mouth slowly opened as his dark beady wolf like eyes stared to my core and sent chills down my back. He said with his deep thundering voice.

“This had better be important to interrupt me like this; you had better be dying or get out.”

“Yes Sir that could just as well happen!” I replied with a voice as stern as his.

“Ok what is it what do you need to tell me?!”

“Sir the case I’ve been studying the killer they were here they left this on my desk!”

“How do you know that it was the killer?” He replied

“Cause Sir there is no return address that mail requires one to be sent.”

“No it could have been any mistake the postal people could have not even noticed it.”

“But-“

“No buts you are going crazy there is something wrong with that head of your so get out of my office and take the rest of the day off!”

Slamming the door I returned to my office I couldn’t  be imaging this I know the mail people wouldn’t miss that especially not at the F.B.I. but I still took his advice and took the day off.

As my car pulled up to the guard station I knew something was wrong I could feel it. As the window rolled down the guard said

“Pull in to the garage there people in there that want to talk to you.”

Reaching the maximum speed of mph through the lot I looked around and saw people crying in the front of the building talking to a police officer. As the dark entrance of the parking garage enveloped the car I could see a group of 10 people standing in the middle of the drive. We slowly pulled up to the group of officers and they surrounded the car and knocked on the window. As I rolled it down I could smell the coffee on his breath and the mint used to try and cover it up. His body language showed that he didn’t like his job. As I look up at his face I see the dark rings under his eyes suggesting that he doesn’t get that much sleep and due to the condition of his suit either he and his wife had sex before he left of he and his wife are fighting.  Due to the bags they are fighting. I look away from his eyes and focus my attention on his wedding band it was turned upside down suggesting that his marriage is falling apart. The window reaches the bottom and the clicking of the gears trying to push it down farther sound and the man leans his head in the window.

“Are you Ashley Gampel?”

“Yes.” I reply in an uneven tone “is there a problem officer?”

“Yes as a matter of fact there is the director was killed last night and we believe the killer was the one from the case you’re working.”

“What?! That idiot I told him this would f*****g happen!”

“ma’am?”

“The killer left this on my desk yesterday.” AS I handed him the envelope.

“What’s in it?”

“I don’t know I haven’t looked in it yet.”

“Do you mind?”

“No be my guest open it.”

As he open the envelope and pulled out what was inside he turned it around and gave it back to me.

“It’s for you.” He turned around. “Meet me in your office in ten minutes.”

“Ok.” I replied confused

I shut the window and pulled out what was in the envelope and read it. It was a note to me.

Dear Ashley Gampel,

I know that you have been following my art for a while now and I’ve been following you it would appear to me that you don’t appreciate my artwork it would appear to me that you of all things see me as a common killer. But there is something that you should know I am no common killer and no one suspects it to be me. Even if you look for me you won’t be able to find me I am the last thing that you’d expect. But no matter all shall be revealed in the coming weeks or days if you decide to wise up on me. Oh and don’t make a mistake cause I’m always watching.

Sincerely yours, M

Author's Note

its still not finished.