A new case for Miami Metro Homicide.
Everyone has that certain darkness inside of them. Their dark passenger. The one who controls their desire to hurt, to see blood.
Sometimes; even those who you least expect.
'Dexter, what have you got?' Debra Morgan asked her brother, who was taking photos of the bloody floor in front of him.
Dexter was looking at particular parts of the blood and began pointing him, '-no smudging, this is where he was shot and left to die.'
Debra sighed, 'sorry, I missed all that.'
Dexter shrugged, 'the man was shot three times, twice in the back from behind, the man would have fallen to his knees and landed on his side, seeing as the blood pools to the right. He then falls completely on his back, the shooter comes forward shoots him in the chest and leaves him to die.'
Debra nodded, 'why do we live in a place with so many sick fucks?'
Dexter smirked, 'because if we lived anywhere else, life would be boring.'
'Harry, what happened?'
'Nothing Hermione,' Harry muttered into the muggle mobile, 'just…I've had enough of his shit so I'm moving out. Is it OK if I come and live with you for a few days?'
Harry heard Hermione sigh into the mobile, sounding stressed, 'you know you can,' she muttered exasperatedly, 'you have the spare key. Come over whenever you're ready.'
Harry smiled, 'thanks Hermione, appreciated.'
Harry hung up and looked at the mobile, it was covered in the blood from his hand, Harry dived into his pocket and grabbed his wand out, 'clean up the evidence,' he muttered to himself, quickly casting a common cleaning spell on his hands and mobile phone, he would just have to clean the wand handle with Hermione's wand later. At night when she was asleep, otherwise she would be up all night asking him more questions than he knew she already would ask once he got to her apartment.
Harry had no idea what lie he was going to come up with. It would probably be in the news shortly that his ex boyfriend had been murdered. It would be in the Daily Prophet for sure, and depending on the circumstances, it would most likely be in the muggle news as well. If they connected the murder to Harry…he had no idea what he would do to save himself from going to jail.
Harry sighed and sat down at the abandoned bus stop he had run to after killing his ex boyfriend. It was time to come up with the perfect lie.
Debra walked into the briefing room, Dexter following her and standing between Angel and Quinn.
'So, what have we got on the case?' Debra asked.
'I know that the victim's name is Chris Wilson. He worked for social security,' Angel said reading from a piece of paper, he looked at Quinn and Quinn nodded, 'no wife. No kids. No nothing.'
'Parents?' Debra asked, 'come on, everyone has fucking parents!'
'Died in a car accident in nineteen-ninety-seven,' Angel replied, 'no siblings, he was an only child.'
'How old is the guy?'
'twenty-eight years old,' Angel said, 'you'd think he would at least be married.'
'So, there's no one we can talk to that can give some sort of back up story on the victim?'
Everyone shook their heads.
'Dex,' Debra looked straight at her brother, looking desperate, 'please tell me you found something!'
Dexter shrugged, 'I didn't find anything except bruising in areas, small bite sized ones. So really, they're just love bites.'
Debra eyes widened, 'any saliva or-?'
'The skins absorbed it and the saliva wouldn't necessarily give us the DNA of our killer. If the guy wasn't married then it would
probably belong to a potential one night stand-.'
'Illegally purchased hooker,' Vincent Masuka cut in, 'from what our records show, he's been charged a few times for it.'
Debra bit her lip, 'I'm almost tempted to give up now…has the crime scene been completely searched?!'
Everyone looked at each other, Debra didn't know whether to be annoyed or relieved as she ordered everyone to go back to the crime scene and search in completely, before telling her they had nothing.
'So what happened?'
Harry sighed and starred into his cup of coffee, 'well…he's been gambling again,' Harry lied, 'and he's been buying hookers again.'
'Again! I thought he'd stopped!' Hermione exclaimed, 'you never told me anything about gambling though.'
'Yeah,' Harry said, 'I remember how pissed off you were at him when you found out he'd been buying hookers, I didn't want you to be pissed at him for gambling too.'
'Fair enough,' Hermione said, 'but…you should tell me these things. You're my bestfriend, I consider you my brother and I know for a fact that you feel the same. Why can't you trust me?'
Harry shrugged, 'I don't know…' he looked away from Hermione and at the floral curtains hanging from the curtain pole, covering the kitchen window, 'I guess you just wouldn't understand.'
'Then help me to!'
'Not everything is so black and white Hermione,' Harry snapped, 'not everything is easy to figure out or understand like you seem to believe. Just because you're smarter than me, doesn't mean you understand me more than I do!'
Hermione stayed silent and kept her eyes down as Harry calmed down, 'I'm sorry,' he muttered.
'It's fine,' Hermione said, 'you're right. Not everything is so black and white and easy to understand. Even if you were the smartest witch of your age…'
'Were?' Harry asked, 'you still are! Don't doubt yourself just because I'm on my man period!'
Hermione laughed, 'fine, I promise not to.'
Harry nodded, 'good, now, I'm tired. An argument with Chris always leaves me tired, so if I could-.'
'I assumed that you're so used to staying here you don't even need to ask to borrow the guest room,' Hermione smirked.
'You're right. Don't mind me, not the brightest witch of my age here!'
'Oh shut up,' Hermione shook her head fondly, 'and go to bed. I expect you to go talk to Chris tomorrow though.'Shit…
'Right,' Harry nodded, 'of course, I'll try. Night Hermione.'
Hermione smiled, leaned down and kissed the top of Harry's head and walked down the hallway towards her room, 'night Harry.'
Tonight was the night. I was going to find him there, justice would finally be served for killing his son. The sick bastard.
I smirked as I watched him walking drunkenly out of the strip club, a hooker on his arm as if it were an accessory. Not necessarily an accessory to be proud of in my opinion.
I watch as the hooker leaves to go somewhere. Probably to get something from her car. He's just standing there, in the alley now, swaying slightly. The intoxicated moron.
I walk forward, hiding in the shadows. As I always do. You'd think in a place like this, one would be afraid of the darkness. But I'm not. Not when I'm caring darkness around with me all the time, even when it's the brightest point of day.
I leap forward, the man doesn't have time to react as I push him to the ground, pinning him successfully as the animal tranquiliser in my hand pierces his neck and he falls limp, no need to pin him down.
I pick up his body and carry him on my shoulder, making sure the hooker isn't watching, I run to my own car and place him in the boot quickly before driving off. I see a lot of plastic wrap being in this mans future.
'I'm fucking sick of living in constant competition with you Chris! And your fucking ex boyfriend! I know you're cheating on me!'
Chris sighed, 'babe-.'
'DON'T CALL ME THAT!'
'You have to understand!'
'Understand what? That at the end of the day you're just another fucking man whore ruining my life?!'
Harry sat up, looking around the empty bedroom in a small moment of panic. For a moment he had thought he'd heard Chris shouting at him, calling him an asshole for killing him. Which Harry wouldn't deny, he was an asshole for killing Chris.Oh my God…
Harry began crying.I killed Chris…
He jumped out of bed and brought a jacket around his shoulders, placing his hands in his pockets and leaving the guest bedroom.What have I done?
Harry didn't concentrate on where he was walking. As long as he could attempt to get out of that small, crowded guest bedroom at Hermione's apartment.
As long as I can get out of my own head.
A voice beside him made him jump. He turned around and glared at the man that had appeared beside him.
'You're not exactly succeeding in getting out of your own head right now, are you…'
'Piss off, Snape.'
'I wish I could,' Snape sneered, 'but for some reason, your mundane mind has chosen me to represent your mentor for your dark passenger.'
'Don't talk about that in public!' Harry barked, looking around to make sure no one was listening in.
'Don't be stupid,' Snape smirked, his smirk making Harry feel foreboding, 'you're the only one who can see me. You're the only one that can hear me. As of now if anyone were watching, it would look like you were staring off, into space, and talking to yourself.'
Harry glared at the man he knew only he could see, but sometimes, it really never felt that way, 'as I said, piss off. I don't need you around me all the time. I can handle my dark passenger all by myself.'
Severus Snape disappeared from Harry's view, making Harry feel a little more at ease with his surroundings. He had always felt slightly uncomfortable with Severus around. Chastising everything he did.
Harry turned around as he heard a low groan of pain, a crunch of bone hitting pavement and then sounds of scuffling.
Harry looked into the dark alley, a man was throwing another man over his shoulder; the man carrying the unconscious one was looking at his surroundings. The man seemed to believe that no one was around and ran out of the alley. Harry followed slowly, going through the dark alley and bust the horrible smell of the dumpsters, he watched the man heave the unconscious man into the trunk of his car and speed off.
Harry had no idea why, but he felt a certain pull towards this man, 'I have to know what's going on,' Harry thought to himself, 'I just have to.'
'What makes you believe that?'
Harry rolled his eyes, good old Severus was back.
'I just have this feeling that I need to know what's going on.'
Harry concentrated hard before disapperating then and there.
Thump.That's probably just the body hitting the door of the boot Dexter.
'But it came from the roof Dexter?'
Dexter ignored his father in the front passenger seat as he continued to drive to an abandoned warehouse. Or in the case of his victim; his last move.
Victor Billshaw, a man who was respected amongst many, was a murderer. After having killed his son because he hadn't had the perfect grades and the father assumed that because of certain grades his son wouldn't have a future.
Mind you, the kid had only been seven and a half.
But Victor hadn't wanted that shame on the family, his son failed a few classes because of his continuous nose-bleeds and headaches and constant need for medication.
At least now the family wouldn't need to spend so much money on the kids medication. But if that's their first worry, they really need to sort out their priorities.
When Dexter was done with him though, the family wouldn't need to pay for an attorney either. They'd have all their money to themselves to spend on whatever they needed. Maybe a good funeral for the kid.
'Dexter, that noise was from the roof-.'
'Dad, shut up!' Dexter barked, 'I know what I'm doing! You have seen me doing this a million times before!'
That shut him up.
Harry landed with a thud on top of the car roof, not exactly the spot he had wanted to land, he was hoping to at least be in the large boot of the car, but maybe the roof was better. Minus the numerous cars that could have possibly seen him on top of there and alerted the driver that some strange young man was sitting atop of his car roof.
This is when Harry decided that maybe it would be best to turn himself invisible. To stop such things from happening.
As he did, it was weird to watch the newly formed traffic as the car entered a popular part in town, whiz by so quickly. It felt…refreshing.