tw for cannibalism & death of children
Scarlet sighed heavily as she looked at the case file before her. It was one that had been sitting on her desk for months now- quickly approaching a year, in fact. She had difficulty opening it. It wasn't the worst bounty she'd ever been requested to hunt, not the most gruesome or horrific. Not that it wasn't because it absolutely was. It was just...
Personal.
And she'd been told, from the time she was learning the ropes from her adopted father, "don't take cases too close to home, you won't be able to finish them; if you do, it will weigh heavy on your mind. and if you don't, it'll weigh heavy on your soul."
She wishes now she'd listened to that advice. She should never have let this case cross her desk. Not that she'd known it would be personal, when she started it, but as soon as the clues and hints had started coming in, started identifying who was behind it, she should have handed it off. Declined it. Given it to someone else. Someone who could take care of what needed to be taken care of.
Scarlet looked at the paper again.
INFAMOUS CHILDREN'S BUTCHER
it said in large, bold letters. Below it, information- what was official was meager, but what Scarlet knew could fill a textbook. It sent a shudder down her spine.
Bones of children between the ages of four and ten found with human adult teeth marks
and
Scenes hard to find- hunts in woods?? Hides corpses by using natural wildlife??
and
Suspect: unknown
Unknown. To everyone but her. Because Scarlet knew. It was a horrible, heavy weight in her gut.
If you don't, it'll weigh heavy on your soul.
She looked for a moment at one of the few photos on her desk- her and her father on Father's Day, a decade after her adoption. And then she turned her gaze out the window, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and consternation.
"Why...." she murmured. "Samson..."
Off in the distance, seen directly from her desk, was a bridge. And under that bridge, was the Children's Butcher. Samson Feare. Scarlet's adopted father. Scattered around his tent were various bones, with his favorites piled up closest to the entrance. A few pigeons sat nearby- the menacing aura of the figure in the tent not bothering them in the least. Between the large man's teeth was a bone, a small femur from his most recent victim. Sensing he was being thought of, he lifted his head with a grin.
.
Scarlet wondered what made a man like Samson, a man who'd grown up abused and decided to become a freelance bounty hunter to right wrongs, become wrong. Samson had always held a strict moral conduct- or at least, he'd enforced one upon her because he knew his own was skewed. But the man she had known, had grown up with, had loved so dearly, was now the furthest from what he had been. She suspected, hoped and prayed, that whatever had taken him away from her years ago, had made her think him dead, had fucked up his head somehow. If it was otherwise, if it was somehow that Samson had always been like this, secretly hungering for children's flesh...
She didn't think she'd be able to reconcile any of her childhood memories from the man she knew then to the man she knew of now.
Scarlet had to catch him. She knew she did. She had to bring him in, to end the unjust killing of innocent children. But she also knew that if she did, he wouldn't survive. Either she'd have to put him down herself, or he would undoubtedly receive the death penalty. There was no way to save him, except for letting him be. Letting him continue to kill.
Don't take the cases too close to home, you won't be able to finish them; if you do, it will weigh heavy on your mind. and if you don't, it'll weigh heavy on your soul.
