1 Chapter 1: Another Death

"Get back here!" A voice yelled as a boy dashed off, three wallets in his arms as he zigzagged past people.

"Stop him!"

"Thief!"

"Fuck," The boy said as he burst out into the busy street of new york city. He was hoping he could snag some extra money without anyone noticing.

With the heavy and quick footsteps close behind him though, he realized that just wouldn't be possible.

He jumped over a fence as fast as he could, rolling on the ground and running through the tennis courts as two men in expensive-looking clothing chased him.

'C'mon just give it up,' He thought as his long matted hair got in his face, causing him to slam into the tennis net and flip onto the other side with a loud thud.

Quickly regaining his bearings he got up and continued running, the men's yells and footsteps sounding much closer.

Just as he reached the next fence a hand grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from climbing and sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Thought you'd never stop," The man said in a deep, almost growling voice.

The boy turned around quickly to see a tall, dark-haired man towering above him, looking down at him with cold eyes.

"Come one just let me go, man, I need some food-"

The boy stopped as a foot slammed into his face, the smell of fresh leather filling his nose.

"The fuck? Why would I give you my money? You little thief!" The man kicked the boy in the stomach, causing the boy to wheeze and curl up as the other man stomped on his head, cursing him.

The two men continued to beat the boy until they were satisfied, both of them spitting on him and picking up the three wallets.

"Don't let us catch you again ya hear?" One of the men said, turning back to face the boy.

But he saw something unprecedented.

The boy stabbed a kitchen knife right in the man's eye, yanking it out quickly and stabbing it several times in his stomach.

"You guys wanna fuck with me huh!?" The boy yelled, brandishing the knife and pushing the man over as he began to bleed from several wounds.

The other man widened his eyes and ran, yelling for help.

Help didn't come however as the boy rushed after him, catching him quickly and stabbing the kitchen knife through the nape of his neck and out through his Adam's apple.

The boy breathed heavily as the man fell, gurgling on his own blood and slowly dying right there on the tennis court.

"Hah... God forgive me," The boy said, sighing as he looked at the two dead men. "I have done it again..."

***

Down at the NYPD precinct, a man was awoken by a tap from his partner. Opening his eyes and looking at Officer Hamilton in confusion.

"George, That kid you been watching out for? Think he was spotted earlier, and it's not pretty... As usual," Hamilton said.

"Huh, you sure? I thought we agreed he was… You know? Dead," George said as he stood up and grabbed his jacket, following his partner swiftly.

"Yeah well, witnesses giving the usual story, looks like our hopes were wrong…"

"But we saw-"

"I know George, I know."

Hamilton sighed, went to the blinds on the window, opened it and took a look outside. Seeing that it was raining, he went back inside to grab his jacket and hat before opening the door and stepping out with George.

"I'm starting to get too old for this shit."

It had all started 8 years ago when a dead body had been reported south of Central Park. They'd assumed it was a suicide at first, but when they got to the scene, it was far too brutal and messy to have been anything but a homicide.

That was when Hamilton and George had begun to track down the person responsible, and soon enough they realized it wasn't an isolated incident. Soon there had been multiple deaths, all involving a young boy with black hair and a red scarf tied around his head.

Time and time again witnesses said the victims would chase this young boy because he'd stolen something, and each time these victims would be dead.

Things had cooled down for the past year or so, but it was clear the kid was back according to the similarity to this murder and the others. Hamilton was sure it was the same child, and if it weren't for the fact he was currently dead, George would be certain of it as well.

"Well looks like it's time to go," George said, putting on his hat and looking at Hamilton. "You coming or what?"

Hamilton shrugged, grabbing his jacket and walking out the front door with George.

They arrived on the scene 30 minutes later, a crowd looking at the tennis courts where two dead bodies were covered.

"This is getting ridiculous," Hamilton whispered to himself.

The police had already arrived and were taking pictures of the crime scenes, as well as gathering information. The only person Hamilton really noticed in the group was a small, thin girl with short brown hair who seemed to be talking secretively to someone covered up in a hood behind her.

Hamilton walked forward and took out his badge, showing it to one of the officers as he asked for the information.

"Names are not public right now detective," The officer said flatly, looking under a tarp in disgust.

"Stabbed right in his face."

Hamilton sighed as he read the report, glancing at the photo of the man who had been stabbed in the eye. It was the exact same case as usual when they dealt with the boy.

Hamilton suddenly glanced behind him, locking eyes with the boy who'd been standing behind the young girl and talking.

Realistically, though they never thought about it much, the boy had to have been growing up all these years... 'Murderers usually come back to the scene of the crime, especially serial killers."

Hamilton closed the folder and walked toward the crowd, the boy seemed skittish as he talked hurriedly to the girl.

"Young man!" Hamilton yelled.

In a flash the boy ran off, pushing through the crowd as Hamilton got on his radio. "All available units, Can I get a code 8 for suspicious individual... Down on Bryad and Central..."

Hamilton ran after the boy, who had already begun crossing the street, and ran in front of cars, waving his arms as Hamilton pulled out his gun.

"Police violence!" A woman yelled as she swerved her car in front of Hamilton, stopping him from being able to see where the boy had gone.

"Damn it lady what the fuck!" He yelled at the woman, clenching his gun as two officers ran up behind him.

"What's up, detective? What's going on?" A blond officer asked as he looked at the scene.

"Nothing... No chance of finding him now," Hamilton said sighing, but that's when he remembered... "The little girl!"

They rushed back to the crime scene, and upon seeing the little girl was still in the area, he ran and pounced on her right away, not distinguishing her from any other criminal.

"You! Come with us, NOW!" Hamilton barked in her ear, slamming cuffs on her fragile wrists.

He grabbed the girl by the arm as she struggled against him, but soon enough she became quiet and followed him obediently as the crowd began yelling about police brutality.

"You already know what I'm going to ask don't you?" Hamilton asked as George ran up to the police cruiser he was putting the girl in.

"The hell are you doing!?" George asked, grabbing Hamilton and yanking him away from the police cruiser.

"She's the key to getting to the boy! I know she is!" Hamilton yelled, looking at the young girl, who simply stared forward with a blank stare.

"Look at her trying to act all innocent..."

"Buddy..." George said with a sigh, "Have you thought about... Retiring?"

Hamilton glared at George as he looked back to the young girl, who didn't even seem to notice them.

"I can't. This kid will bring everything back, everything we've worked for," Hamilton said with an angry undertone.

But then he considered his partners' words. Was this case really worth all this stress? Chances were the kid would be caught eventually and charged fairly for his crimes...

He looked back at George again and sighed, "But I'm tired."

George nodded in understanding, he always felt bad for how harsh Hamilton could be sometimes. But then again, there's nothing wrong with that when you're dealing with murderers... Perhaps retirement was truly the best option for the old police detective...

And Hamilton's prediction had been wrong about the murder case, the boy would never be caught or tried for his crimes, for he died the very same day...

...

"What... Happened to me?" A boy around 16 years of age asked himself as he floated around in a void space.

"Well... You died," A voice boomed behind him as a huge eyelid opened, revealing a gargantuan pupil that covered up the boy's entire body.

"Holy shit..."