The Monster in Me

I walked casually up to the crime scene, still tired from my hours of unpacking the night before. I'd been called this morning, my first day on the job and I already had a murder.

Lucky me.

Of course there were tons of people around, there always was when someone turned up dead. It's cute really. Goes to show that everyone's a little curious about death. It's perfectly human.

I had barely made it to the tape when a long, tan, rather hairy arm stretched out before me.

"Excuse me, ma'am you're not allowed past the crime scene tape." I reached into my jacket pocket and grabbed my badge. I'd just received it before I'd left New York, after I'd shipped my transfer.

"I believe I am, unless you'd like to examine the corpse yourself, officer." I gave a polite smile as the cop turned slightly green before stepping aside. I grabbed a pair of gloves, smirking to myself at the Police Officer's reaction before catching a glimpse of the body.

Immaculate. That's what it was, and not a single drop of blood. There, in the center of an empty swimming pool of some cheap hotel, lay the beautifully carved corpse of one unfortunate prostitute. I bit my lip as I dropped to one knee. Each incision was wonderfully smooth, as though her flesh had been butter. This killer, whomever he was, knew what he was doing. And he was damn good.

"Pretty nasty huh?" I broke from my trance, turning to face the overweight Latino detective whom had just spoken.

"Pardon?" He laughed, crouching down beside me.

"You new?" I nodded, standing up. "Angel Batista."

"Jean Moore." He had a firm handshake, a bit sweaty, but with the heat that was to be expected. "I'm your new medical examiner." I informed him, squatting back down to better examine the body. The legs were uneven, in pieces that is. The right had been cut into four equal parts, while the left had only three. There was a cut however, indicating that a fourth incision had been started, but he had stopped. Interruption seemed out of the question, how could he have had time to wrap everything so neatly if he had been interrupted?

"Shouldn't you be in the lab then?" There was a bit of bruising on the front of the neck, along the same line where decapitation took place. She'd been bled out like a pig. As inappropriate as the time may have been, I couldn't help but to have wished that I'd thought of that with Ryan.

"I like to see my victims in their natural habitat." Batista's face somewhat fell before I cracked a smile. This allowed him to believe I was joking.

"Vince Masuka." A rather short, bald, Asian man suddenly stood between Angel and myself, smiling from ear to ear with his hand stuck out. I raised an eyebrow, reluctantly taking Vince's hand. "You know, if you ever need someone to show you around or just keep you warm at night, I'm your man." I frowned, letting go of his hand and looking over to Angel who was shaking his head.

"Yeah, that's really nice, but I doubt that will ever happen." I made sure to give another smile before walking away. I hated that part of a social life most of all, smiling. Why can't we live in a society where people didn't need to fake or hide their emotions simply for the sake of being normal. What was normal anyways? Being exactly like everyone else?

"Oh, excuse me." I had been lost in my thoughts again, and because of it had almost walked into a man. He looked considerably well built, broad chest and muscular arms. The man light brown hair, and probably would have been significantly pale had it not been for the blistering Miami sun.

"No, it's my fault. Sorry." Without waiting for a reply, I made my way to the recorder who was simply leaning against the gate with his tablet in one hand and a cell phone in the other. Unlike the man I'd just nearly ran in to, this one was frail and lanky. He stood up straight as I approached him and I didn't wait around for small talk.

"Victim's barely 12 hours old. Cause of death: bruising on the throat suggests she was bled out before she was carved up like a Christmas ham." The boy stared wide-eyed at me, stock-still. "Well?" He jumped, hurrying to write down everything I'd just told him.

"You must be my new medical examiner." I faced the woman whom had just spoken. She was maybe an inch shorter than me, wearing a pale yellow/green dress suit. Her dark hair was pulled back in loose bun showing off her Cuban features. "Lieutenant Laguerta." I smiled taking her extended hand.

"Jean Moore."

"I heard you were the best." I noticed her wink at something to my left, and from the corner of my eye I caught the man I'd nearly ran into. He gave her a smile, however seemed deeply disturbed by something.

"I try." I answered, careful not to ignore her question. After a half laugh, she slapped me on the shoulder.

"You'll do great. Now, if you'll excuse me I must get back to interviewing these people. We need a witness." What could I do but nod.

I soon found myself involuntarily turning back around to look at the body. There was just something about it. I found it beautiful, almost inspiring in a way.

Miami Metro Police Department

My first body had been an adult female, twenty-seven, found raped and strangled outside of a strip club. Her stomach had been empty apart from a couple Advil and some semen. I supposed Miami would have a bunch of cases like this one. At least I'd never be bored.

My desk was upstairs, small and vaguely insignificant against a back wall. The little Asian man, Masuka, would be my neighbor for my stay in Miami so I'd have to deal with his melodramatic sex remarks.

I was sitting at my desk, filling out my recent autopsy report when someone stopped directly in front of me. I looked up to find the man from the crime scene, the one who our lieutenant clearly had a soft spot for, holding a box of doughnuts and smiling broadly.

"Doughnut?" There was something about him, something that I just couldn't quite place my finger on. There he was, smiling and handing out doughnuts at a police station like any normal guy would do, so what was it about him?

"No, thank you." I smiled kindly, closing my folder. He intrigued me and I wanted to find out more about him. He closed the doughnut box, balancing it in one hand and stretching out the other to shake mine.

"Dexter Morgan. Newbie huh?" I pinched my lips together and nodded.

"Jean Moore. That obvious?" Dexter shrugged, grabbing the box with both hands again.

"Well, doughnuts don't happen everyday."

"Damn straight." Masuka cut in, leaning over the box and grabbing one for himself. "You want me to eat yours for you?" A piece of doughnut fell onto my desk as Masuka, not so quietly, added, "And I'm not talking about the doughnuts." He gave a weird laugh that reminded me of Woody the Woodpecker before going back to his own desk. I frowned, looking back to Dexter.

"You'll get used to him." He shook his head and gave a chuckle. "But hey, welcome to the team!" I watched as he walked away, not giving a single glance back.

Dexter Morgan. What was it about him? I stuck the end of my pen into my mouth and began to chew. Maybe it was me, paranoid after what had happened, but I'd gotten away. Benefit of being a medical examiner; you can kill someone and make it look like a suicide. But Dexter Morgan.

The tiny plastic piece in the end of my pen popped out and I put it back together, placing it in the bottom drawer. Now was not the time to be thinking about my co-workers, I needed to find my nicotine patch; something to satisfy my newly distinguished hunger. I wanted to kill again, and bad. It was almost sickening, yet the thought made me warm all over.