I Can Hear a Serial Killer's Voice in My Head

I stand in the dimly lit parking lot, the cool night air nipping at my skin as I press the phone to my ear, relaying the information from Dr. Park to Inspector Han.

"So, Dr. Park believes the injury was caused by a dynamite explosion?" Han asks, his voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of concern.

"Yes, sir," I confirm, pacing back and forth beside my car. "He has experience with these types of injuries from his time as a military doctor. The pattern of the wound, the tissue damage - it all points to a dynamite blast. Dr. Park seemed quite confident about it, though he did emphasize that the injury wasn't as severe as what he typically saw in military settings."

There's a prolonged pause on the other end of the line, filled only by the sound of Han's steady breathing. I can almost picture him rubbing his forehead, a habit he has when processing complex information.

"That's... unexpected," Han finally says, his tone measured. "But it lines up with what we're seeing here. The injury on our victim's right arm... it's unusual. Not like a typical cut or burn.

Our forensics team was puzzled by it, but dynamite... that could explain a lot."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I'm about to suggest. "Inspector, I think we need to consider the possibility that the man who disappeared from the hospital and the body you've found... they might be the same person."

"I was thinking the same thing," Han agrees grimly. "The age range matches, and that arm injury is too specific to be a coincidence. It's not every day we see wounds potentially caused by dynamite explosions."

"Is there anything else about the body?" I ask, dreading the answer but knowing I need all the information possible.

Han's voice grows heavy, and I can hear the weariness seeping into his words. "Yes, and it's not good. The arm injury wasn't what killed him. The body shows signs of repeated stabbing all over. It's... it's pretty brutal.

Whoever did this, they were angry, or trying to send a message. Maybe both."

I close my eyes, trying to process this information, the implications of it all. "God," I mutter, leaning against my car for support. "Any idea on the timeline? How long has he been dead?"

"Forensics is still working on that," Han replies. "Preliminary estimate puts it within the last 24 to 48 hours, but we'll know more once we get him back to the lab."

"And the location?" I ask, my detective instincts kicking in despite the grim news. "Any significance to where he was found?"

"It's an old, abandoned logging camp," Han explains. "Pretty remote. Whoever dumped him here didn't want him found quickly. It was pure chance that a hiker stumbled upon the scene."

I nod, even though Han can't see me. "The forensics team is still processing the scene and the body," Han continues. "We need you here. Your insights from the hospital could be crucial. Maybe you'll spot something that connects to what Dr. Park told you."

"Of course," I reply, already moving to open my car door. "I'm on my way. What's the exact location?"

Han gives me the address of a remote area in the mountains. As I slide into the driver's seat, he adds, "Be careful on those mountain roads. They can be treacherous, especially at night. And detective? Brace yourself. It's not a pretty sight."

"Understood, sir. I'll be there as soon as I can."

***

As I pull up to the crime scene, the area is already a flurry of activity. Floodlights illuminate the clearing, casting long shadows across the abandoned logging camp. Yellow police tape cordons off a wide area, fluttering in the cool mountain breeze.

I step out of my car, the gravel crunching beneath my feet. The air is thick with the scent of pine and something more sinister - the metallic tang of blood. Forensic technicians in white suits move methodically around the area, photographing, measuring, and collecting evidence.

Detective Kim approaches me, his face grim. "Glad you're here," he says, nodding towards the center of the activity. "It's as bad as Han said."

"What have we got?" I ask, falling into step beside him.

"Initial forensics just came in," Kim says, lowering his voice. "The stab wounds... they weren't inflicted by just one person. The angles, the depth, the pattern - it all points to multiple assailants."

I feel my stomach drop. "How many?"

Kim shakes his head. "They're not sure yet. At least three, possibly more."

He pauses, then adds, "There's something else. The forensic team contacted Dr. Park at Hope Hospital."

My eyebrows raise. "The doctor I spoke to earlier? What did he say?"

Kim nods. "They sent him photos of the arm injury. He confirmed it matches what he treated in the hospital. The size, shape, even some distinctive scarring - it's all consistent. He's as certain as he can be without seeing the body in person that this is the same man who disappeared from the hospital."

I let out a long breath. "So we've got confirmation. The hospital patient and our victim are the same person."

"Looks that way," Kim agrees grimly.

I spend the next hour meticulously recording every detail of the scene, from the position of the body to the surrounding area. By the time I'm done, my notebook is full and my head is spinning with information.

As I drive back to the unit, the lonely mountain road stretching before me, Aileen's voice suddenly pipes up in my head.

"Well, this is boring," she complains. "When are we going to see some real action?"

I roll my eyes. "This isn't a game, Aileen. A man is dead."

"Fine, fine," she concedes. "So, what do you reckon about all this?"

I consider for a moment. "It's clear the culprits are operating from somewhere remote. Using dynamite without drawing attention would be nearly impossible in a populated area."

"Oh, come on," Aileen scoffs. "That's obvious. I've got something more interesting."

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"The man who died - the one with all the stab wounds? He must have been part of some kind of gang."

I frown. "What makes you say that?"

Aileen's voice takes on a knowing tone. "It reminds me of something I heard about during my time in jail. Some gangs have these... ceremonies, I guess you could call them. For removing betrayers or punishing members who've harmed the gang in some way."

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my mind racing. "You think this was some kind of ritualistic killing?"

"Could be," Aileen says. "The multiple stabbers, the remote location, the brutality of it all - it fits the pattern."

I nod slowly, processing this new perspective. "It's an interesting theory," I admit. "It would explain a lot about the crime scene."

"See?" Aileen says smugly. "I can be helpful sometimes."

***

I stride into the unit, the fluorescent lights a stark contrast to the darkness of the mountain roads. The team is gathered around the central table, maps and photos spread out before them. Inspector Han looks up as I enter, his eyes tired but alert.

"Glad you're back," he says. "What've you got for us?"

I take a deep breath, organizing my thoughts. "I think we might be dealing with something bigger than we initially thought. There's a possibility that this could be gang-related."

The room falls silent, all eyes on me. I explain the theory, detailing the multiple assailants, the remote location, and the brutal nature of the killing.

"It fits the pattern of a gang execution," I conclude. "A ritualistic punishment for betrayal or some other transgression against the group."

Han leans forward, his brow furrowed. "That's a serious allegation. What makes you think it's gang-related specifically?"

I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to reveal Aileen as my source. "It's a pattern I've heard about before. Some gangs have these... ceremonies. The multiple stab wounds from different assailants, the remote location - it all fits."

The team exchanges glances, processing this new information. Detective Kim nods slowly. "It would explain the level of organization we're seeing. And the use of dynamite - that's not something your average criminal has access to."

As the discussion continues, Han's phone suddenly rings. He steps away to answer it, his voice low and urgent. The rest of us fall silent, watching his expression grow increasingly grim.

After what feels like an eternity, Han ends the call and turns back to us. The look on his face makes my stomach drop.

"We have a situation," he says, his voice tight with tension. "Two of our team members who were still at the crime scene... they've gone missing."

A collective gasp ripples through the room. "Missing?" Detective Park echoes, disbelief clear in her voice.

Han nods grimly. "They were doing a final sweep of the perimeter. Routine stuff. But they missed their check-in, and now we can't reach them on their radios or phones."

The implications of this hit me like a punch to the gut. If my theory about gang involvement is correct, then our missing colleagues could be in serious danger.

"Sir," I say, stepping forward. "If this is related to our case, if there really is a gang operating in that area..."

Han holds up a hand, cutting me off. "I know. We need to move fast." He turns to address the entire team. "I want every available officer on this. We're treating this as a potential hostage situation. Full tactical gear, and we move out in ten minutes."

As the room erupts into a flurry of activity, I catch Han's eye. The worry there is plain to see, but there's something else too - a steely determination.

"Your gang theory," he says quietly. "I hope you're wrong. But if you're right, we need to be prepared for anything."