The early October morning unveiled itself with relentless rain. The rising sun was hidden behind a thick shroud of charcoal clouds that cast the landscape into a dim, melancholic gloom. The desert, typically parched and resolute, was drenched and drenched again by the unrelenting downpour, its dry, brittle leaves transformed into a sodden mess. Cacti and mesquite trees loomed like spectral sentinels, their skeletal limbs dripping with rainwater. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and creosote, while the faint echoes of thunder rumbled in the distance, giving the desert an unsettling, otherworldly aura.

The sound of car horns and bustling of tenants awoke Bailey Carson from her sleep. Her criminal psychology classes textbook, Murderess Minds, slides off the edge of her bed as she rolls over. The loud thud against the hardwood floor startlingly awakens the chocolate Labrador that was sleeping soundly at the foot of her bed.

Bailey hushes the dog as it barks by giving it small pets on the head and then reaches for the fallen book. She looks at the cover for a moment and then sets the book on the nightstand and grabs her phone to view the time. 6:36 a.m., it read.

Bailey sighs and throws her comforter off of her body, and sits up in her bed. So much for sleeping in. She thinks to herself as she slides out of bed, the floor groaning in protest under her weight when she stands up. Bailey does a few quick stretches before grabbing the textbook off the nightstand. Bailey dusts the front cover off and walks it over to her bookshelf, which was stacked with several volumes on criminology, cold cases, other types of psychology books on the criminal mind and leisure readings, like her favorite book series.

Bailey slides the book into its designated spot on the shelf and runs her fingers along the spines of the other books, picking up a thin layer of dust that has settled on the books.

Beside the bookshelf was her laptop, which was open, revealing the last site she had visited before heading to bed the night before. A cold case file on The Zodiac Killer, she was studying for a research paper. Bailey glances down at her notes and scribbles out her last thought written before closing her laptop. Bailey sets her notebook on top of the black laptop, adorned with countless Dutch Bros stickers she's collected over the years, and slips both into the large pocket in her book bag then zips the bag closed. Her hands rest momentarily on the top of her book bag before removing them and strolling across the room to her bedroom door. Bailey grips the door knob and with a short twist, yanks open the door. Before she could get out of the small space first, however, her labrador hops off the bed and slips past her, running out of the room. The labrador bolts down the hall, its nails clicking rhythmicly against the hardwood floor as they run straight towards the patio door. As soon as they reach the door, they let out a whine and paw at the glass and edges of the door frame, hoping to pry open the locked glass door. The dog whines again and lets out a short bark to get Bailey's attention.

"Hold on, Max." She sighs as she closes her door behind her. "I'm coming, be patient, bud." She presses her fingers against her temples and rubs them as she walks into the living room, her sudden headache reminding her of last nights fun that was evident around the room. There were crumbled bits of popcorn in every crevice of the couch and its immediate surroundings thanks to her roommate and her dislike of gorror films. To go with the popcorn mess, there were several empty cans of Dr. Pepper and half empty cans of Truly lemonades strewn across the coffee table and a box of Domino's pizza thrown open, revealing the small pile of crust left behind.

Bailey never could understand why her roommate hated the crust when it was her favorite part, but she assumed it was the overpowering garlic salt coated on the crust that her roommate didn't agree with. Sighing, Bailey throws the Dr Pepper cans into the pizza box and closes it so that Max doesn't get to it and walks it over to the trash. With her foot, she presses down onto the pedal of the trashcan and opens the lid so that she can throw the box into it. Bailey emptys the box into the can before shoving the box inside it, pressing it down to make more room. Bailey takes her foot off the pedal and glides into the living room to grab the Truly cans as Max scratches at the door again. "Shit, I'm sorry Max, I'm coming." She replies to her dog. Bailey sets the cans back down onto the coffee table and rushes over to the patio door.

Max steps back slightly when he sees his owner approaching and watches as Bailey unlocks the door and pushes it open. He then runs out onto the porch and relieves himself while Bailey peeks her head out to look at what bipolar Tucson weather she would have to deal with today as she works her intern shift with the Tucson Police Department.
Light rain sprinkled down onto the porch, and a small crack of lightning flashed across the gloomy sky. She shivers slightly and wraps her arms around her chest, and watches Max continue to do his business. When he is finished, Bailey hurries him inside then slides the door shut, and locks it again. Max shakes the light water that had dropped onto his coat, off, filling the room with the scent of wet and dirty socks, then struts off to his food bowl to eat his breakfast.

Bailey slides her phone out of her pajama bottoms pocket and checks the time again before shuffling back into the hall and towards the door that is opposite from her bedroom. She stuffs her phone back into her pocket and loudly taps her fingers on the door, listening for the familiar sleepy and annoyed groans from her roommate. "Eva, we're gonna be late if you don't get up now." She calls out through the door. "Wake me up when October ends." Eva groggily replies back. "Come on, Billy Joe, you can't sleep the month away." Bailey jokes as she swings the door open. "Max, come here." She whistles to her dog. "Come get Eva up." Bailey listens for the pitter patter of her dog running down the hall and chuckles as he excitedly bolts into the bedroom, barking as he jumps onto Eva's bed. Eva groans in protest as the dog jumps onto her bed and attempts to pull the comforter over her head before she is covered in dog slobber but is too late.

Bailey continues to laugh as she watches her dog attack Eva with love. "Max!" She squeals as the dog continues to lick her face. Laughter shortly follows, and she grabs the dog and pulls him in for cuddles. He gives her another few kisses before shimmying out her arms and hopping off the bed. "Good boy, Max." Bailey giggles as she watches the disheveled redhead rise from her slumber. "You suck." Eva jokes as she dries her slobbered face with her sleeves. "I had to get you up somehow, didn't want you being late." Bailey replies as she leans against the doorframe, her arms crossing over her chest again. "If I don't go, it doesn't constitute being late. Therefore, I just won't go, problem solved." Eva replies as she flops back down onto her pillow and pulls the comforter over her head again.

Bailey chuckles and pushes off the doorframe before shuffling over to the side of the bed where Eva was. "I'm gonna jump on you myself if you don't get up." Bailey says as she looks down at Eva. Only her nimble fingers and the top of her forehead could be seen from under the comforter. "Don't you dare." Eva says as she slowly pulls the comforter away from her face. "Then get up, Sleepy butt." Bailey says as she grabs the black round wire framed glasses off the nightstand and hands them to Eva. "Fine," Eva grumbles as she snatches the glasses from Bailey's hands. "But I'm gonna complain about it the whole time." Eva finishes. "I wouldn't expect anything else." Bailey replies as she helps Eva out of bed. "Now get dressed. I have a shift to get to, and you got art history to fall asleep in." Bailey jokes as she leaves the bedroom and strolls back to her room to finally get ready for the day.

---

As Bailey confidently entered the precinct, the usually steady hum of activity had escalated into a fervent buzz of urgency. The air crackled with tension, and the usually stoic faces of the detectives and police officers were etched with palpable gravity. She could feel the weight of the room settle onto her shoulders, the somber atmosphere permeating every corner like a heavy fog.

Desks were strewn with files, papers, and evidence bags, each one seemingly more critical than the last. Officers darted back and forth, their expressions a blend of determination and concern as they relayed information to one another in hushed tones. It was as if the entire space had been plunged into a state of controlled chaos, the urgency of the situation hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break.

A knot formed in her stomach as she overheard snippets of conversation, piecing together the grim reality that a murder had occurred. The gravity of the situation was palpable, and the earnest resolve etched on the faces of the detectives and officers hinted at the enormity of the task at hand.

Bailey approaches her commanding officer's desk and drops her book bag beside it. She glances at the name plate; Sergeant Sara Rodriguez is etched along the length of the gold painted metal. Bailey reaches into her bag, pulls her cell phone out, and then looks at the woman. The soft glow emanating from their computer illuminated her tortured features. "Take a seat, Carson." Sergeant Rodriguez says to Bailey as she looks up from her computer screen, meeting Bailey's eyes. Bailey nods and takes a seat in the worn-down chair that sat adjacent to the sergeant's desk.

"I suspect you are aware of what is going on?" The sergeant asks as she haphazardly draws in all the papers that were strewn across the desk into a pile. "Not entirely ma'am." Bailey replies as she glances about the precinct and all of its officers. "What do you know?" Sergeant Rodriguez asks, her hands clasping together on top of the desk. The sergeant spins her wedding band around her ring finger, patiently waiting for a response. "Only what I've heard after walking in here ma'am." Bailey says. Sergeant Rodriguez sighs and rises from her seat, the old office chair creaking from the lack of weight pressing down onto it.

"Follow me." The sergeant beckons to Bailey as she strolls across the precinct and into the bullpen where the rest of the officers sat. "Your task today is to shadow Officers Likin and Brown at the scene of the crime as well as the others there. It has, for the most part, been processed, but still a few more things to do, and it gives you a chance to see one, despite the grimness of the situation." Bailey looks the two officers over before giving a short nod to Sergeant Rodriguez's commands. "Please take caution while you are there."

---

The scene inside the apartment was a haunting tableau of violence and despair. Harsh, artificial light cast stark shadows that seemed to accuse the room's disarray. The air held an acrid, metallic tinge, a reminder of the grim act that had taken place. A sense of profound silence hung in the air, broken only by the conversations in and out of the apartment and the clicking of the camera.

In the dimly lit living room, a shattered vase lay in ruins, its remnants scattered across the floor, as if it had borne witness to the turmoil. Furniture had been overturned, and the drapes were drawn tightly as if the room itself sought to hide the horror from prying eyes.

The victim, a figure in repose on the floor, was surrounded by a sea of bloodstains that stained the carpet, painting a macabre tapestry of the final moments. It was an image that was seared into the memory, a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the brutality of its end.

By the body lay a white mask, untainted by the spilled blood and a distressed calico cat, the white in its fur stained with dried blood. Anytime anyone got close to the body, the cat would hiss and swat at them.

A few feet away from the body, a visibly annoyed tech kneeled on the floor, waving a rainbow feather cat toy around in hopes of gaining the creature's attention and moving it away from the body. Unfortunately, their methods proved unsuccessful.

The tech lets out an exasperated sigh and drops the feather toy, and rises to their feet. "Animal control needs to hurry their asses up." They grumble as they walk away from the area.

Bailey frowns and slowly crouches down beside the cat, her hands stretched out in front of her. "Here kitty kitty." She whispers as she slowly reaches for the cat.

Bailey gently grazes her fingers along the cat's back and holds it for a few seconds, waiting for a response from the animal before quickly picking it up and wrapping it in her coat.

She quickly hands it off to another tech in the room before turning her attention back to the body.

However, as soon as she gets a look, realization settles in.

"Oh my god." Bailey exclaims as she gets closer to the body, her knees dropping to the floor. "What is it, kid?" Officer Likins asks as he kneels beside Bailey.

With a gloved hand, Bailey moves the blood-soaked hair from the body's face. Despite the several cuts to the face, she was still able to make out who the victim was.

"I knew her." Bailey says as she looks the body up and down, mentally counting the several stab wounds all over her body.

Overkill was putting what happened to the poor victim lightly.

"Who is she, Bailey?" Officer Likins asks, his attention shifting from the body to Bailey. Anger and sadness bubbled inside her, and her voice caught in her throat. Clutching her sides, Bailey rises to her feet. "Her name is Khloe Warren. A classmate and," Bailey turns away from the body, tears forming in her eyes. "And a friend." She finishes as tears slowly roll down her cheeks.