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**Just Another Rainy Day In Riverton**
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**Chapter 1**
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It was 5:12 a.m. when I finally got home from another all-night stakeout in the old abandoned industrial district. I had spent the entire night in a car with Detective Collins. It poured rain the whole time, adding to the creepiness of the part of town where the killer had been seen frequently. Despite our efforts, we never got a bite. We drank gallons of coffee from the station, but we didn’t see the killer or even a vagrant or some crazy guy yelling profanity in the street. I got home feeling defeated, as always. I wish I could catch the son of a bitch who killed my dad. Finding that bastard was the reason I became a cop and moved up to become a detective.
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The killer was never clearly seen. Witnesses described him as wearing a torn-up t-shirt over his face, dark blue mechanic overalls, and very old work boots. This part of town, known to the locals of Riverton as the old Industrial District, was desolate and grim. The only people who lived there were the homeless, released mental patients, prostitutes, pimps, and every kind of low-level criminal. It was a breeding ground for despair and violence, making it the perfect hunting ground for a killer.
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What made the killer even more elusive was his pattern—or rather, his lack of one. He would go on for years without killing again, making it nearly impossible to predict his next move. Just when the city would start to breathe a little easier, he would strike again, leaving behind a trail of blood and confusion. This unpredictability kept everyone on edge, especially me.
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The killer had a twisted sense of justice, targeting mostly business professionals but occasionally taking out low-life scum in the city. His weapon of choice was a fillet knife, sharp and precise, capable of inflicting gruesome wounds. The thought of that knife slicing through flesh haunted my dreams and waking hours alike.
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I remember wanting to be a famous bass player like Cliff Burton. He was the reason I wanted to be a musician in the first place. But all my dreams were erased when my dad was murdered in the parking lot of his accounting firm. I look at the rain through my apartment window, and the troubles of the city and my life seem as blurry as the window I'm trying to look through.
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I sit on the corner of my bed, trying to get undressed and get some sleep after another night of disappointment. I remember the day they found my dad murdered. I was 15 and excited about what the future might hold for me. There was a knock at the door; it was a Riverton detective. He told my mother that my dad had been murdered, right after she had just gotten off the phone frantically trying to call him at his office. I think the detective's last name was Lewis or something; he retired long before I joined the force. My world was destroyed that day, and a new path was forged.
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My mother was torn up when she realized that my dad was dead. It didn't truly sink in until the day of his funeral. She just stared into space, without a tear in her eye. She didn't fall apart until we got home. I remember falling asleep and dreaming about my dad's death, seeing it through the eyes of the killer. Dad happened to be the killer's first victim. Each time I heard of a new murder from this guy, I could see through his eyes how he did it. I remember what Detective Lewis said—the only clue they had was the word MIDNIGHT written on the driver's side door in my dad's blood.
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We were lucky that my dad had a good 401K and retirement plan, which the Riverton Accounting Firm gave to my mom. That was the only good thing to come out of this. My dad always said to plan for the future because you never know what's going to happen. Boy, was he right, in such a horrible way. I need to stop thinking so much and get some sleep. Good night.
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