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Alexandra Pond

"Most people want to be noticed, at least once, I think."

0 · 506 views · located in Oakhedge

a character in “The Rise of The Nightmare”, as played by Miss Nomer

Description

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24 || Bisexual || Officer || January 9th || Chicago






ImageLikes:
Batwoman || Hero (not super) Comics || Helping People || Fellow Officers || Her Cat || Small Apartments || Winter || Old Trees || The Firing Range || Diners || Milkshakes || Cold Showers || Morning Jogs || Thick-Soled Boots || Baseball || Correct Hunches || Details || Smiles || Detective Movies || Sherlock || Chinese Takeout || New Recruits || Successful Cases

Dislikes:
Crime/Cop Dramas || Crying || Seeing the Victim's Loved Ones || Murderers || Crime || People Killing Children's wonder [Telling them Santa doesn't exist, etc] || Humidity || Southern Summers || Kids Dying || Black and White Perspectives || Big Cities || Asparagus || Cooking || Just-For-Kicks Criminals || Death || Ice Tea || Feeling Helpless || Hot Showers || Sleeping In


Fears
Losing Her Grandparents || The Nightmare [Secretly] || Being Underground || Making a Mistake [In a case, like putting the wrong person behind bars, etc]




Skills:
+ Highly Observant
+Skilled Marksman
+Good With Interrogation
+Good Intuition "Hunches"
+Works well with others
Deficits:
- Bad With Victim's Loved Ones
- Takes Child-related cases too personally
- Refuses to ride subways, go into sewers, etc
- Poor Liar
- Obsesses Over Cases







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Personality:
Alex has always been the sort to notice things that may slip past others. When she is quiet, it is rarely for a lack of words, but because she is observing things, seeing things. This is a gift of hers that she received from her grandmother whenever she would come to visit her in Oakhedge. Her grandmother was a brilliant, but virtually unknown, artist who painted with intricate, flawless detail. This passion for the importance of seemingly minor things, for what people see only when they are able to stop and truly look, is something that was imprinted on Alex very early on in her life. While other children learned to speak big words, she was being taught how to observe the world around her and understand connections. It is what has made her such an effective police officer, especially regarding the cases where details can be what pushes the task force into understanding the mind of the criminal. She is, due to this, a particularly empathetic person, able to understand the feelings of others. She seems to know when people are hiding things, especially feelings, and can be a bit nosy about this at times. It does help her in the interrogation room, though- she notices little behaviors or slips that can make or break a person.

Unfortunately, her empathy comes as a double-sided blade. The young woman has difficulty distancing herself from cases, and tends to get much more intimate with them than she ought to. It certainly doesn't help when she has to interrogate or keep contact with a loved one of the victim- in fact, she tries to distance herself from that as much as possible, because she tends to begin making promises she will obsess over keeping, and will become too involved with the loved ones of the victim. That's why she can't be sent to console or interview the loved ones of murdered or kidnapped victims. She lets those things get to her head much too easily, though she's otherwise an excellent cop. Alex has the tendency to stay up all night during particularly interesting cases, going over files over and over again until she could probably recite them from memory backwards. Her attachment to cases is definitely her biggest flaw as an officer, though it only increases her motivation in them. She's very passionate about what she does, and how she can help others. It's just that it is nearly impossible for Alex to get a case out of her head until she is absolutely certain everything has been noticed, explained, and solved. Personal time during such a case is but a dream for her.

Over all, Alexandra can be described as someone who simply cares- maybe too much. She can't let things just be business only, and can't leave people who need help alone. She may have been raised in a big city with a monumental crime rate, but she has remained optimistic that she can make some sort of difference. That's why she does what she does- and why she helps people, when she can.

{Observant, Empathetic, Involved, Obsessive/Passionate, Caring}




History:
Alexandra Pond was born and raised in Chicago, Illinois, but if asked of her real hometown, she'll say Oakhedge without hesitation, for that is where she spent most of her summers during adolescence, in her grandparents' house backing a wooded area. She was sent there primarily because her father was a detective for the Chicago Police Department, and working on many of the most brutal cases made him a bit paranoid for the safety of his only child and daughter, apple of his eye, Alexandra. So she was sent to a small town every summer, away from a city where making it past the age of eighteen, especially in the neighborhood and school district she lived in, was an achievement of sorts.

Her school life was fairly average. She did well in most of her classes, but had the tendency to notice things that others did not, making her both a good friend and a bad one. Her grandmother may have taught her observation, but from her father she witnessed a lack of competency with emotional matters that was imprinted upon her as well. It wasn't that she couldn't express her own feelings, or that she repressed them, but that she acutely observed the feelings of others and began to have a sense of helplessness when she couldn't do anything about it. Besides that, she was quite terrible when it came to consoling and things like that, because she, as a child, was a bit of a crybaby, and would end up crying for the other person, only making things even worse.

As she grew older, the girl finally got over her crybaby stage, but she never lost her empathy, which seemed to forcibly involve her in the matters of others, and the tendency to obsess over things grew. Freshmen year, it was batfamily comics, sophomore year learning to shoot. Eventually, it would be cases which constantly occupied her mind, begging to be thought about, to be solved. She had spent her adolescence switching between wanting to be an artist or a police officer, like her father. He, of course, spent a lot of time persuading her against following in his footsteps, but when he died her junior year, killed by a serial killer he had been on the case regarding, her resolve strangely steeled. She wanted to take down the sort of people who killed her father- she wanted to protect people.

At the same time, she didn't want to do it in Chicago. The young woman knew that there was perhaps more need for police in a big city, but she had seen enough simply through her father to want to be somewhere smaller, more close knit. She was accepted into a police academy, and trained to be an officer, but never joined the Chicago department. Instead, she packed up and moved to the town of her childhood summers- Oakhedge. After getting a job with them, she found that the night shift fit her like a glove- like family. And here she's been, ever since.



So begins...

Alexandra Pond's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lana Dhavernas Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Scout Stancliff Character Portrait: Roxanne Sura Kunik Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel

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A figure appeared at the door of his lab. Ollie looked up, feeling a shiver run down his neck. He froze as said figure lifted a gun, aiming it directly at his head. He didn't have time to react before the bullet found it's mark.

Ollie managed to drag his eyes open, sighing with relief as he realised he was still alive. He glanced up to confirm that the door was still locked. The light was still red, and he relaxed a little, rolling over in his sleeping bag. The floor of the lab had replaced his bed for the past few weeks. Not that he cared. At least he knew that nobody could get in unless he wanted them to.

His lab was at the far end of the building and wasn't used in the day shift, due to the fact that they didn't particularly need it and that he usually had several cases worth of evidence in it, meaning that it was usually better that it was only used by him. He usually set an alarm for half an hour before everyone else came in so he was dressed and presentable before everyone came in. He went home and showered every morning, picked up some fresh clothes and ate, before going back into the lab to sleep. He slept in a t-shirt and old tracksuit bottoms.

The station seemed oddly busy, considering his alarm hadn't gone off yet. He stretched an arm out to wake his phone, then swore under his breath as it didn't come on. He had missed his alarm and probably overslept. He froze as he heard a tapping on the glass door that served as the entrance to his lab. He shoved himself into a sitting position to see Jonathon standing at the door.

"Oh crap." Jonathon had clearly seen him, so there wasn't much point in pretending any more. He climbed to his feet, grabbing his pass card from the table where he'd left it before going to sleep. He swiped it, releasing the door, and smiled a little sheepishly at Jonathon as the door slid open. "Hi."

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Victor pulled on his white t-shirt, before grabbing his jacket and pulling it on. He wasn't required to wear it, but he was planning on doing more searching at the crime scenes today, meaning it would make his job a lot easier. Sure, he'd have to take it off to put on the clean suit to prevent contaminating the evidence, but people seemed to be less suspicious if he was wearing the jacket, ID or not. They were also a lot more willing to let him in, because it marked him out as a forensic investigator as opposed to a cop.

He fixed his hair, before grabbing his kit and ID. His ID went into the pocket of his plain black jeans, and he grabbed his keys shoving them into the pocket of his jacket. His landlady was heading into her apartment as he reached the bottom floor. "Evening, Mrs. Fuentes!" He said. The old Mexican woman smiled at him. "Ah, Victor. Rushing out again, I see?" She teased him. He laughed. "It's a beautiful day to solve crimes!" He said, before closing the door behind him.

His apartment was close enough to the station so that he could walk to work. Some evenings, if he was running a little late, he'd cycle, but his kit was a little difficult to balance at times. It was starting to get cold, and the light was rapidly fading. He was fully planning on just reporting in, seeing if anyone had anything to tell him, then convincing someone to either help him set up a reconstruction or to come out with him and comb the most recent crime scene. Something was already on his mind, something he wanted to try out.

Everyone else was starting to drift in and he scanned his ID as he reached the door. "Hey Victor. If you're looking for Alexandra, she's talking stuff over with Scout." Someone called. He swore under his breath. He didn't know if Roxie would be in yet, so he decided to head to the demo room.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Scout Stancliff

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Scout Stancliff

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"Thank you again for watching her today," Scout said. She handed her daughter, McKenna, over to her mother-in-law. "I'll call you when I'm out of work." She kissed her daughter on the top of her head, and walked down the front steps of her late fiancee's childhood home. She didn't want to go to work today. She hadn't spent a day with McKenna in two weeks. Scout was having withdrawals from her three year old. These were the times when she should be spending the most time with her.

Pulling into the station parking lot, she sighed and grabbed her bag. Unlocking her office door, she noticed more paperwork was stacked on her desk, just like every other morning. They were from Jonathon, who was probably ten times as stressed as anyone on the team. She sat down in her desk chair, and started rifling through the files. They were all about the current murder case. Three suspect files. She threw them off to the side, and put the rest in a drawer to go through later.

She hear a knock of her door, and through the glass, she saw it was Alexandra. Scout smiled and said, Come on in, Alexandra." She had always respected Alex. She may have been the best female officer in the whole station.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Scout Stancliff

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Today had been a fairly average day for Alex. Wake up, go for a jog, eat leftover chinese food that had a permanent place in her mess of a fridge. Of course, it would have been a bit more average of a day had she not been plagued, as she has been for the past few weeks, by the thoughts regarding the current case that the Night shift has been put on- tracking the murderer the Nightmare, who had already killed several of her fellow officers. The thought of it gave the young officer, typically calm, chills. She couldn't help but think of the murderer who had killed her father- he, too, had taken out several members of the Chicago Police Department before being tracked down. But that man is in jail now, she confirmed this the moment that the Nightmare murderers became clearly more than a one-shot thing.

Marnie, Alexandra's cat, rubs against the young woman's leg as she walks towards the door, keys in hand on her way to work. She scratches her ear, but isn't the sort to talk to her pet- especially not in the baby voice she hears people use towards their pets. Undoubtedly, Marnie would've bitten her the moment she tried to use speaking on the occasionally surly creature.


It is a short drive, and a silent one, before Alex reaches the station. Of course, left to her own devices, the officer can go for hours without saying a single word. She's not one for speaking to herself aloud, not even letting out an instinctive Ouch! when she stubs her toe in her one-bedroom apartment's cramped kitchen. Such exclamations are internalized, just as most things are. Her family was never a particularly loquacious one, and thus bred a rather quiet daughter. Perhaps other siblings would have made her more boisterous, but Alex is an only child, so that theory cannot be tested.

Of course, she now has a sort of surrogate brother in one of the Forensic Analysts, and a father figure as well in the night shift's supervisor, Jonathon Martel. This pseudo-sibling has come too late in life to discourage her heavily internalized personal dialogue, and he's hardly a chatterbox himself, though social enough. The same can be said for Martel, in fact.

Her first words of the day are to greet her fellow workers as she enters the department building. After dropping off a few things at her own desk, namely a light jacket and wallet [She's not a purse person], Alex gets straight to work- this means heading over to Scout Stancliff, assistance supervisor, and, by extension, her office. The two of them are to begin discussing possible suspects for the time being, though Alex doubts exactly how well that will work. They don't have any actual evidence on the killer, but these suspects are the strongest they've got. Some have more circumstances against them than others, needless to say.

Her knock on Scout's door is answered promptly, so Alex is only there a moment before she walks into the office. The two women share a mutual respect, deserved on both counts. Officer Pond admires Scout as a superior, and as a person in general. That being said, if Alex is willing to take a bullet for Scout, it has a good deal to do with the fact that Scout has a daughter, a dependent, and her life therefore is more precious than Alex's own- in Alexandra's eyes, anyway.

"Ready to look over the suspect files?" she asks with a smile, but the sight of the files on her desk makes it clear that she's merely opening up the process of going over them.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lana Dhavernas Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Scout Stancliff Character Portrait: Roxanne Sura Kunik Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel

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"Come now boy, I can assure you that there are better places for sleep and a cold, hard floor is not one of them. If you need a place to sleep in safety Ollie, there is many places for that. In fact, even if you need a place, regardless of if safety is a factor or not, you know you have one." Ollie allowed his eyes to slip away from the man that stood in front of him. It wasn't that he felt his apartment was unsafe- it was the fact that he knew exactly how safe he was in the lab. The glass was practically bulletproof, and the ID scanner couldn't be fooled- something he had found out on the rare occasions where he'd left his ID at home.

"But we'll finish this conversation later, when I take you out for lunch at the diner." Ollie wasn't that hungry. He'd eaten after coming out of work this morning, and he'd pretty much slept since then. But he didn't want to say that in case Jonathon thought he was blowing him off. So instead he smiled. "I'll just get changed." His jeans and checked shirt were folded in his bag, and it only took him a matter of minutes to change.

He went back out to meet his boss when Victor Hale suddenly appeared at the far end of the corridor, looking rather stressed. "Sir, there's been another murder."

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Victor pulled off his jacket and slung it over the door, looking around. Something had felt... off about the last murder. The angle of the gunshot didn't correspond to where they'd found the body. The victim had either been moved or the killer had been standing at a strange angle. Either was possible, knowing the Nightmare.

He lifted the gun and was about to call out, but then someone burst into the room. "Victor, we've got another one." He whirled around, the gun falling to his side. "Already? Who?" He demanded, putting the gun back on the table and grabbing his jacket. "Peter Hurley. Another gunshot. He didn't report into work today, but nobody missed him. It's possible the Nightmare killed him last night." He sighed. "Okay. We're on our way."

He headed straight for Scout's office, knocking briefly before going in. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got another scene. Peter Hurley. We're wanted on the scene as soon as possible." He said, before retreating and heading to find the others. He found Jonathon and Ollie just outside Ollie's lab. "Sir, there's been another murder. We're wanted ASAP. Peter Hurley's apartment."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lana Dhavernas Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Scout Stancliff Character Portrait: Roxanne Sura Kunik Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel

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7.30. The crime scene has been secured and the field officers are currently in the process of conducting a technical examination.


He took a mouthful of his coffee and sighed, waiting for the machine behind him to beep. The others had rushed off to the most recent crime scene, leaving him and Roxanne practically alone in the building. He had considered going into her lab and offering to work with her, but had found himself unable to ask her. Just the simple physical contact of her brushing his arm had made his heart race.

His machine started to chirp, and he turned around, reading the machine print out. He frowned. The results of the poison were exactly as they had been for all of the other victims- untraceable. The poison appeared to be some kind of over the counter narcotic. He'd contacted some of the drug stores, and they'd informed him that a lot of people bought this particular product. They had nothing else to go on, and it was driving him mad.

He sighed heavily again, picking up his coffee and heading for Roxie's lab, humming "You Are Not" by Young Guns to himself. He'd promised to give her the results of the poison when he got them back.

"Hey, Roxie." He leaned against the door of her lab. She wasn't as cautious as him, it appeared, as she had her door left open. "I got the results of the poison back. Same again. I have no clue what to try next." He sighed, tapping his fingers against his leg. He grinned at her, taking a mouthful of his coffee. "Still, at least we're safe here and not out in the Nightmare's territory. I'm going to run the partial fingerprint we found again, see if we have any results."

He headed back to his lab, still humming to himself.

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It was warm underneath the clean suit and mask, even though his jacket was still slung in the back seat of one of the black SUV's entrusted to the forensics unit. The room was filled with floodlights, making sure that the room was as bright as day. Victor deposited his case on the floor and looked around. The medical examiner was kneeling at the body, a job that Victor didn't exactly envy him for. Dealing with dead people was one thing. Working with them for a living was another.

He produced the camera that they used to document the scene and started taking pictures. One of the body.The blood spatter on the walls. The card on the body, which just read the usual. Never question what you don't know. He turned around and saw a smudge that looked vaguely like a fingerprint on on of the doors and headed over to it, photographing it. He dusted it and lifted the print, before pushing the door open.

Written on the walls in what looked an awful lot like blood was a message.

Lonely, lonely, we came so close before...

"Guys!" He yelled. "We got a message!"

He went outside for a minute to talk to one of the uniforms who had secured the scene and ask them if they had seen it when they were securing the scene, and if they had, why hadn't they told him?

He took out his phone and texted Roxie.

"The phrase "Lonely, lonely, we came so close before" mean anything to you?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Scout Stancliff

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A chill had run down Alex's spine when Victor had barged into Scout's office to inform the two women, just as they were going over the suspect files, that another victim had been found. This one was Peter Hurley, whom she was later told had not been found until recently because 'no one missed him' when he didn't show up for work. The young woman had sprung up immediately, quickly pulling back on her coat, and grabbing both her gun and her badge, the latter planted firmly into it's holster in her belt. She's been far more careful to carry it on her recently, given the recent attacks. In this, Alex is hardly alone. Some of the lab workers have been issued guns, as well, due to the concern for their safety as well as that of the officers. The drive to Hurley's apartment felt much too long- as though they were wasting valuable time. The Nightmare is unpredictable, after all- she wouldn't put it past this figure to go for a double homicide in one night. She just has an ominous feeling- then again, there's been that feeling ever since the killing began. Serial murderers in a town like Oakhedge tend to give Alex the impression of a horror movie.



She had been speaking with another officer when Victor calls out- saying that they have another message. The officer passes by Victor as he walks out.

Alex stands in front of the bloody message written on the wall- probably with the victim's blood, but samples have been taken just in case. They can't afford to make too many assumptions about this killer, after all. She doesn't think much of the Lonely, Lonely bit to be honest- it may very well be important, she knows, but the latter bit is what seems to dig into her skin and crawl around. We came so close before, could easily mean being close to someone, but she has a haunting suspicion that this isn't the case. No, it sounds a good deal more like attempted murder to her. But there had been no reports of murders happening around Hurley that might have indicated a previous attempt on his life- she's verified that already. That ominous feeling is coming back with a vengeance now- and the girl has always had rather good instincts.

Previous run ins. . .What reports have there been recently? she wonders, the answer just on the tip of her tongue. Another officer walks over to Alex. "Officer Pond? You said you wanted to speak to the person who found the body? She's standing over there. Says she lives in the apartment right below his, one floor down," the officer continues, but Alex remains rather distracted. This time, by what he's said- it triggers something that she ought to have remembered immediately upon seeing the message.

"One moment," she says, walking over to where Victor is, mind now moving a mile a minute.

"Victor. Someone in Ollie's apartment building was murdered recently, right?" she asks, the urgency in her voice making it clear that she knows the answer, but needs for someone else to speak it aloud. "Is he still back at the department? Who's with him? Roxie? Lana?"


Alex doesn't think that the message refers to Peter Hurley, but to a victim not yet killed. What if the person killed in Ollie's building hadn't been the intended victim? Or what if it had been a message in itself?

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel

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Jonathon Martel
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The rush to get to the crime scene had given time for Jonathon's stomach to remind itself how actually hungry he was, his empty stomach groaning in protest, asking him for food. His missed "lunch" with Ollie was disappointing but the murder of Peter Hurley was another disappointment in the case of horrors. Jonathon had spoken to the man a few time and although the conversations were brief, Jonathon always assumed that he was very nice. Their conversations usually consisted of work and plans for the weekend- which had usually consisted of more work for Jonathon- and John now felt regret for not talking to Peter more. And now he would never get the chance to do so, as he had been murdered, presumably by the nightmare. Nothing could ever been assumed until one got to the crime scene as they could be replicated as soon as public information got out. He had seen it done before, sick individuals who wanted credit for murder sprees that were not theirs.

The wavering lights of police cars brought Jonathon out of his thoughts and back to life. Uniforms stood outside, some milling in and out of the building and some sectioning off the scene with tape. A few spoke to the others who lived in the apartments, trying to get them to clear the premise. He parked the car quickly and got out, barely spending the time to put the vehicle in park. He flatted his suit with his hands, trying uselessly to get the wrinkles out of the expensive clothing and then flashed his badge at a uniform who started to question him. He went past the tape and went into the building, arriving slightly after his team. He went up to the room, wincing at the bright lights.

The body of Peter immediately stopped the protesting of Jonathon's stomach, quickly loosing his appetite. There was another picture to add to his wallet, although he would soon run out of space. He sighed sadly and walked over, crouching beside the examiner. He turned to the man- the live one- and started to talk. It wasn't his forte, but it needed to be done. He wanted to know the method used, approximate time of death, if the trajectory of the blood made sense as well of how it was called in. The man explained it all to him, even bothering to mention the girl who found the body. Jonathon's eyebrow arched, making a mental note to question the girl himself and perhaps even in custody. He was getting desperate with the case and wanted all ends to meet- eventually he would find that frayed piece of yarn, he usually did.

He stood back up, his legs cramping as he did so; Jonathon was not as young as he used to be and sometimes age provided pain and creaks in places he didn't even know could. He walked over to the wall, regarding the spray and consistency of the droplets of blood. Photos would have already been taken and samples taken, he did not doubt this, his team was intelligent and efficient and he could trust them with his life.

A small smirk graced his face, something rather uncommon, as that thought entered his mind. He soon might have to do this, he would have to push his team and pull some extra hours on them so they could solve this mystery, something that was forever becoming a danger to his team. He would never let something happen to them, but sadly that was out of his control- the best thing he could do was catch the murderer before The Nightmare got the chance to hurt his team.

"Guys! We got a message!" Brought Jonathon over to the room where Victor had apparently been in. John watched Alexandra go into the room after the statement and he went to stand in the doorway. He quietly listened to the conversation that was laid out in front of him as his eyes scanned the message. Lonely, lonely, we came so close before. It bothered him, this man was taunting them with messages written in blood. It was a joke to The Nightmare, watching his team struggle to find him- or her. Maybe he really wanted to get caught, perhaps he would start sending them messages when put together would lead them to an answer. Or perhaps it was there to throw them off, distract them from the things that really mattered. Whatever it would be, he wanted to know why this sentence was chosen.

He whipped his cellphone out, still listening to the conversation, although at this point it was mainly thick silence filled with deep thinking and some muttering from Alexandra. He googled the words, not really finding anything that popped out of his eyes, he founds a few songs with lyrics, a lonely thread on a site called twitter and other articles based off of loneliness. It was really nothing to go by but he would go over a few sites later, perhaps getting someone else from his team to analyze the articles with him. Maybe he would get Alexandra to help him, he enjoyed that the girl was quiet like himself and she enjoyed working as much as he did.

"Victor. Someone in Ollie's apartment building was murdered recently, right? Is he still back at the department? Who's with him? Roxie? Lana?" Her conclusion made Jonathon's stomach drop, dwindling his thoughts with fear. He wasn't the only one who thought that their team wasn't invincible and what she said made sense. The Nightmare had been close to Ollie when he was murdered. Jonathon's blood turned to ice and he started dialing Ollie's number, the beeping on the phone now making himself known in the room. He may have been jumping the gun by calling Ollie right away but he trusted Alexandra's gut instinct, it was much like his own, and you could never be too safe.

"Ollie, it's Jonathon, I want you to make sure you stay locked within the lab today and if you recall loosing a key or giving it to someone, call me back. There's not much reason to panic, but we've found some evidence at the scene that Alexandra thinks may link the scene to you. Call me back if something happens." He left the message in a tight voice, not wanting to betray his thoughts. One thing he had learned in all of his years at the station was that one could never be too safe.

He turned to Victor and Alexandra. "Once we get back to the station and the two of you have done everything you can with the evidence we've gotten today, I want some research done on this sentence. If any of you find anything, I want to be the first one to hear about anything that you may have figured out. If you're right Alexandra, which I hope you aren't for once, Ollie may be in trouble."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Roxanne Sura Kunik Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel

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"Victor. Someone in Ollie's apartment building was murdered recently, right? Is he still back at the department? Who's with him? Roxie? Lana?" He stared at her blankly, before the realisation hit him. Jonathon appeared and called the analyst, but didn't appear to have any luck.

He turned back to Victor and Alexandra. "Once we get back to the station and the two of you have done everything you can with the evidence we've gotten today, I want some research done on this sentence. If any of you find anything, I want to be the first one to hear about anything that you may have figured out. If you're right Alexandra, which I hope you aren't for once, Ollie may be in trouble." He nodded, and headed back inside, pulling the hood of his clean suit over his hair again and pulling the mask over his face.

His mind wasn't on his work as he dusted for fingerprints. He was worried about Ollie. He mightn't have been best friends with him, but he still didn't want him to get shot. And besides, if Ollie was the next victim, that meant that he was turning to the night shift team. It could be him or Alexandra next. And he didn't want either of those to happen.

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His phone buzzed to indicate that it had turned on. He went over to it and saw that he had a new voicemail from Jonathon. He decided to check it in a few minutes, after he was finished comparing the fingerprint samples. He didn't think for a second that anything would show up, but he was including more databases in the hope of something coming up.

He'd left the door open so that Roxie could come in, even if he was in the middle of something. He drained his coffee and tossed the cup into the trash. His computer beeped, confirming what he had expected. The partial fingerprint didn't match any previous records, and he sighed.

He heard someone at the door. He knew that it was probably Roxie, but he glanced over his shoulder anyway.

He'd never been so glad that he had looked over his shoulder.

A figure, dressed entirely in loose black clothing that hid it's figure, making it impossible to see if it was a male or a female, stood there, a gun barrel raised. Ollie leaped for his gun, which lay on the chair a few feet from him. The first bullet missed his shoulder by inches. The second hit him in his shoulder, but Ollie managed to raise his gun with his good arm and fire off two shots. He wasn't sure if he hit him or not, but it was enough to make him run, throwing a card in his direction. Ollie wasn't quick enough. By the time he made it to the door of the lab, still clutching his gun, the figure was gone.

His breath was shaking. Now that the immediate threat was gone, his shoulder felt like it was on fire. He took a deep breath and picked up his phone. He knew that he should probably call an ambulance, but he didn't want that. He was suddenly terrified and aware of how close he'd been to dying. He called Jonathon's number.

"Jonathon... He was here. " He still felt like he couldn't breathe, and found himself almost gasping for breath. Tears streamed down his face. "Oh God, he tried to kill me. Oh God. Oh God."

He was pretty sure that he was hyperventilating now. But he didn't care, he was just so scared and his shoulder hurt so badly. He couldn't get anything else out. He glanced at his shoulder and knew that it was probably just a flesh wound, but the fact that it could have hit his heart or his brain terrified him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Roxanne Sura Kunik Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel

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Jonathon Martel
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Jonathon had not been able to get the fear out of his heart and found that he kept on zoning out during his work. He had no reason to rush back to the station to see Ollie and would probably look stupid if he had. For now he had to concentrate on his work, in case what Alexandra said was true. He still felt the growing concern in the pit of his belly- or maybe that was just hunger? Jonathon assumed it was a bit of both, although it was definitely the fear that made him feel sick.

The vibrating within his pocket alarmed him, the smartphone display screen showing him that it was Ollie calling. Perhaps he was concerned but Jonathon left the message telling him to call back only if something happened. The dread started to grow until he felt his fingers shake. He answered the phone, not bothering with a hello. He could tell by the labored breathing on the other side of the phone that something terrible had happened and in the instant Jonathon had never felt more afraid. His bones felt weak and his head spun with adrenaline, nothing could happen to Ollie.

""Jonathon... He was here. Oh God, he tried to kill me. Oh God. Oh God." Ollie words confirmed the dread that he was feeling and his world went black for a brief moment. Ollie was like the child he had never had, the one he had watched grow in the team and it hurt Jonathon to know that something like this had happened to him. Each gasp of breath on the phone brought a pang into his heart, something that Jonathon did not know could happen. He had never had children, he never know the heartbreak of knowing that someone he loved had been hurt and he could have been there to stop it.

"I'll be there as soon as I can son, we're on our way." The words came out rushed and blurred together as he hung the phone up. "Victor, Alexandra, Ollie's been shot, assumedly by The Nightmare. He hasn't described his situation to me but I can only assume the worse at the moment, although he can still speak. I want you to follow me back as I get the uniforms to finish this up, perhaps another team too. Now I want you at the most recent crime scene- Ollie's lab. Be careful though, I can only assume that anyone on this team is not safe." The words left his mouth in a stressed jumble once more as he quickly jogged out of the apartment, going to his car. He ignored the uniforms who tried to speak to him, his heart hammering as he tried to rush as quickly as he could.

Once in the car he put the lights on carelessly so no cop you pull his unmarked car over for speeding. He didn't even bother putting his window back down as he zoomed, going recklessly over the limit to get to Ollie. He quickly dialed 911, wanting to get an ambulance crew there as well as cops but the women on the phone had informed him that this had already been called in. He thanked the women on the other end of the phone as he hung up, feeling his heart race almost as quickly as he was driving.

He pulled into the driveway at the station and parked as closely to the door as he could, leaving the crooked car. He started the jog into the building, not even bothering to lock his car, and pulled his gun out. He wished Ollie had described the man to him in case he was still lingering around but understood the stress he was under at the moment. Jonathon was still careful though, the last thing he needed was to end up dead, it would not help the case out at all.

As he rounded the corner and saw Ollie's lab, he saw Roxanne over Ollie, speaking to him. Jonathon felt pride in the girl, suspecting that she was the one who had a clear enough mind to call the ambulance. As he neared he also noticed that she had made a compress out of her jacket to help contain the bleeding as well as hopefully slow it down. He was glad it was Roxanne who had found him and not someone else. He was sure she had been able to keep a clear head as well as help Ollie calm down from the situation he had been in. He finally knew that his suspicions had been right, The Nightmare would now be targeting members from his team. This gave him a sense of dread as well as determination, he would find the person who had been killing his team members, even if it was the last thing he would do. Jonathon did not want Ollie to end up as another photo in his wallet, or anyone else from his team for that matter. He would simply not allow this person to hurt them.

"Ollie, Roxanne, are you okay?" He asked as he entered the room, wiping the sweat off of his brow. He knew it was a dumb question to ask, obviously the two were not alright but his mind was jumbled at the moment and conversation had never been his strong point. Although it was comforting to realize that Ollie only had a flesh wound, had it hit a serious artery there would have been much more blood. This led Jonathon to believe that it had not gone through his arm as well, so the boy would hopefully not loose feeling in it or the actual arm itself.

"I'm glad to see you've taken care of him, you've done a good job Roxanne. And don't worry Ollie, I will not allow for something like this to happen again. We'll find The Nightmare- don't-" His words got cut off as the ambulance crew entered the room, carrying a stretcher with them. The placed in on the floor and Jonathon got out of the way as the started to speak to Ollie. It was odd to realize that he would have to question Ollie about the specifics of the case, but that would be done later. For now all Jonathon could feel was anger in his heart at the person who dared thought he could hurt his team. But this anger was a cold anger, the type that Jonathon could keep in his heart and use it to drive himself to catch The Nightmare. And when The Nightmare was caught- in which there was no doubt that he wouldn't in his mind- Jonathon would put all he had into making sure that this twisted prick spent the rest of their life in the darkest, most mistreated, part of the world. And he would make sure that this fucker got the worse care the prisons could give.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Roxanne Sura Kunik Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel

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It isn't as though Alex wants to be right as far as this hunch goes- but, then again, if guessing this, and being correct, means that they can interrupt a would-be murder, she wants to verify. The girl might not always be the most verbal of people, but shes till cares greatly for the safety of the team- especially Ollie, who has become a sibling-like figure to her, who has always been an only child. She watches, silent still, while Jonathon calls Ollie. He is clearly panicked, and she doesn't like to see him in a such a state. Of course, it is to be expected that he'd react this way, even if only based on Alex's hunch; Ollie is like a son to Jonathon, after all. When the supervisor returns his attention to Victor and Alex, the latter is solemn. Were she religious, she'd pray to be wrong. Alex glances back over at Victor, who has returned to his work, looking as distracted as one might expect in this situation.

She hates that everything is going as one would expect right now. It hardly helps, considering that Ollie being the next target is what she would expect. It's especially ironic given that nothing else about this case is predictable. Not predictable enough for them to find the murderer, anyway. "Yes, sir,"
Alex responds to Jonathon before going back to her work. In this case, going over to confer with the other officers, and speak to the closest thing to a witness that they have at the moment. By all means, she should be distracted as well, but instead this serves as a sort of motivation, or perhaps a cause for adrenaline, making her senses focus as she tries to analyze and gather as much evidence as possible. She's not a forensics person, and thus relies on witnesses, signs of any struggle, and things visible to the human eye.

When Jon's phone rings, despite her previous focus Alex's senses are all immediately diverted to trying to catch the words. They are too soft, but Martel's words come loud and clear. And what they imply, very soon after confirmed, makes Alex's blood run ice cold, a shiver creeping up her spine for the third time today. Today had started so normally, considering. The weather had been pleasant, her lunch decent. Now that lunch turns over in her stomach. She glances over at Victor once more as Jon rushes out, just before she follows after. "Be careful. You have a gun? Don't hesitate to use it," she says, studying his face with eyes that never seem to miss a thing before rushing off behind Jon to get into her car and get to the scene.

Once again, the drive is far too long, and Alex is acutely aware the entire time of the fact that she cannot feel her hands properly. They are numb on the steering wheel as she turns into the department to see an ambulance just outside, and EMTs running in with a stretcher. It occurs to her now that she was never told where Ollie was shot. She rushes in, and seeing the shoulder wound, is grateful- though the situation remains bleak. The night team has been turned on, now.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Roxanne Sura Kunik Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel

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"I'll be there as soon as I can son, we're on our way." Ollie allowed the phone to clatter to the ground, moving his good hand to press on his shoulder. He didn't know how badly he was bleeding, but he couldn't really think straight right now. The mix of fear and pain wasn't exactly clearing his mind. All he was really fully aware of was the pain in his shoulder and the fear that the Nightmare would be back.

"Ollie! Thank god you're okay I heard the shots and I was so scared. I thought he killed you!" He looked up abruptly to see Roxanne rushing over to him. Roxanne. He was suddenly very glad for her, just for her presence. But he was scared too, scared that she would be in danger if the Nightmare came back. She balled up her jacket and pressed it to his shoulder.

"You're okay, he's gone. You're safe. I'm so glad you're alive." She touched his face, and he looked up at her. He'd never been as scared in his entire life. His life had been in danger before, like in the lake. But the people he loved had always been safe. And now as the person he thought he'd miss the most was sitting in front of him, the fear almost paralysed him.

"Ollie, you're okay now. I called an ambulance and he's gone. I'll never let him hurt you again. I-I don't know what I would do without you." He wanted to hug her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to not be injured so he could make her feel safe and keep her safe and happy for as long as he could. But he was in a rough sitting position, a bullet in his shoulder, scared to move his right arm for risk of worsening the damage.

He heard the blare of sirens outside. Jonathon appeared at the door, and Ollie relaxed a little. He could feel his consciousness starting to slip, and missed Jonathon's words. He could feel himself on the verge of passing out as the ambulance crew arrived. His words were slurred as he answered their questions and as they gently moved him onto the stretcher. He felt them give him a shot of morphine, easing the pain a little.

His good, blood covered hand grasped Roxanne's as the EMTs lifted him up. He managed to get out one word. "Stay...."

***


Ollie swore under his breath as he tried to balance his bag on his good shoulder. He had spent the past two nights in hospital. The bullet had missed the bone by a millimetre, but had still lodged inside his shoulder. Now that it was gone and back at the lab for analysis, they had agreed to let him out. Roxanne had gone back to his apartment and gotten him some clean clothes that allowed for his dressing.

The painkillers were starting to wear off, and he hadn't slept. Jonathon had agreed to let Ollie stay with him. The only place where Ollie really felt safe any more. The shock had worn off and now he was just pissed off, and a little bit scared. But mostly now he was just tired and sore.

Roxanne had agreed to pick him up and bring him to Jonathon's and look after him until Jonathon could get away from the office. He didn't know when she'd be here, but Ollie was okay with that. The hospital was safe, and warm, and the tea was decent. He had a bottle of strong painkillers to take when he needed them, but he didn't particularly want to. He wanted a clear mind.

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Victor couldn't sleep. They had finished sweeping Ollie's lab last night, and it had felt completely surreal. Their one stroke of luck had been that Ollie had managed to land a shot on the Nightmare. They had a blood sample to test, and while it wasn't showing up any results yet, it was something.

Victor sighed heavily and stood up. He wasn't going to sleep, so he may as well do something productive. He changed into his running gear, a tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie. He kept hearing an echo of gunshots in his head and he couldn't shake it.

He shoved his phone into his pocket and strapped his holster around his waist, shoving his gun into it. However, a knocking on his door made him freeze. He drew his gun as he pulled the door open, pointing at the head of the person who stood there.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond

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The days following the Nightmare's attempted murder on Ollie have been something of a stressed smear across for Alex- not unlike watching the blur of things while one sits in a car, looking forward but then slightly to the side. It's quite distressing for someone accustomed to being able to see so clearly usually. It doesn't help that her sleep has been severely lacking recently. It seems as though something jolts her awake just before she hits deep sleep, reaches REM, every evening. So she gets up and looks back over the case files, as though reading them for the thirteenth time, no, fourteenth, will help her to see something that she is missing. Really, she's read them so often that nothing can accomplished by her skimming again- hers are old eyes now, when it comes to what little information they have on this killer. So she stays up late at night, researching and fueling herself with reheated lo mein, eyes straining against the artificial light to find that detail she must have missed. This sleep deprivation shows in bags under her eyes, of course, but they are both hard to notice and easy to see. She has the tendency to become very involved in cases- it's difficult to judge when she's pushed herself too far into them.

But it's hard to help, when this one has shoved a knife through her core and twisted it around for good measure. Alex already has something of a problem with making cases personal, and it's even harder to avoid that when someone whom she views as a brother, not just a coworker, has been put in harms way because of this psychopath- this ghost, really. Blood samples that don't match anything the state, let alone county, has on records, bullet shells that can't seem to be traced. Considering how loudly they walk, one would think this killer would leave behind some sort of footprints. It's there. I'm just not seeing it, she tells herself.

Maybe there's been something, and I just haven't heard it yet, Alex thinks, uncharacteristically willing to try and delude herself a bit. Perhaps it is this bad feeling, a heavy shadow that ways an inexplicable metric ton sitting on her shoulders, but she feels as though perhaps something needs to be done. It dawns on her how senseless she's being. That's the problem, perhaps. She's too far in, staring at the tiny details with a microscope. Alex needs to take a step back. To reassess everything. So she puts on fresh clothing and heads out, walking she likes the feel of the air, despite the fact that it is polluted with the breath of a killer, somewhere out there.

She passes by several apartment buildings, and recalls one to be where Victor lives. Roxanne should be picking up Ollie, Jonathon is still at the office, and Scout is likely with her daughter. But Victor might be home, she thinks, stopping in front of the building. Maybe the forensics have only just found something. They did the sweep last night, after all, she thinks, inexplicably hopeful once more. Alex walks over to the number she believes to be his, and knocks. No response. The woman is about to leave, but the sound of footsteps is caught by trained ears. It isn't in her nature to immediately jump to worst case scenarios, but she twists at the doorknob anyway. If it's locked, it's fine- she imagined it.

The door swings open with little effort on her part. Alex takes a step in instinctively, only to catch herself staring at Victor, who has a gun pointing directly at her head. For a moment, she can merely blink, staring back at him. "You should lock your door. I'm glad you're keeping your gun on you, though,"
she says, slowly raising both hands just for good measure.