Author Note – THIS IS A REPOST. I've reworked the story and I'm much happier with it so far. I have finished completely but I've done enough to be more comfortable with it. I hope you enjoy the changes I've made. It's more case centric. If you have few minutes at the end I would love to know what you thought of the chapter, so please leave a review or send me a PM if you're uncomfortable leaving a public comment.

Possession – chapter one

"I don't possess these thoughts I have - they possess me. I don't possess these feelings I have - They obsess me."- Ashly Lorenzana

Bodies writhed around him as he walked through the throng of people on the dancefloor. Music pounded from speakers, encouraging the crowd of thrusting, grinding people who he pushed himself through. Even though he didn't blend in with the young people who were out looking for a good time, looking for someone to take home, either for the night or for something more substantial, no one paid him any attention, not that he noticed anyway. His gaze was fixed on his targets at the bar.

They knew he was there but they weren't looking for him. He was taking advantage of the situation, his pulse racing as he realised his dreams were about to become a reality. He side stepped and hid behind a huge guy who didn't see him as he stared through slanted eyes at the girl in front of him who was trying to use him as a pole.

Her brown locks flowed down her shoulder as she leant towards her date, flirting despite the nervous glint in her eye and her folded arms. Her make-up was flawless and highlighted her eyes. Her date said something into her ear and a harmonious laugh escaped her, her head flying back, neck elongating gracefully. She sobered quickly, her lips settling into a natural smile, the edges curling gently. Her nervousness completely gone as her eyes sparkled with laughter. She unfolded her arms and clasped her hands together over her clutch purse which rested on the bar in front of her.

Her date smirked gently. He oozed charm and she couldn't see through it. He faced the rest of the bar, occasionally watching the mob of swaying bodies. His legs were splayed cockily and he made slyly watched every barely clothed nubile young woman who walked past him, nodding and winking in acknowledgment. His date hadn't caught him yet and the few who noticed his attention weren't at all discouraged by his female companion, ducking their heads, some giggled, and some brazenly winked back, encouraging him. One was so brazen as to shoot a meaningful raised eye brow at his date and smiled devilishly at the implication. That one really caught his interest.

His date was just another notch on his bed post. It wasn't their first date; they had been sleeping together for months, nothing serious, just the odd encounter to release the tension. She wanted more, assumed he did to. That's what fascinated him about them, why he's doing what he's doing. He doesn't really understand it himself; maybe he was just building to this moment, to what he's going to do. He had been a law abiding citizen up until a month ago and something inside him snapped.

His gun is in the small of his back, hidden under his leather jacket, and it pressed into him with every step. He wasn't going to use it; it wasn't his weapon of choice. His knife was in his sleeve, he just needed them to lure him out. Like his other victims had. They would be his fourth, but they had been his intended target from the start. He wanted their attention, now he had it. They were here for him.

His body was reacting to the prospect of what he was about to do. His pulse beating erratically, perspiration gathered at the base of his neck, his hands growing clammy. He could almost feel the blood that would be spurting over his hands as the blade of his knife slashed through them. He needed to get this right the first time because there was no second chance here. Not in this situation. The other three couples had been practice, easy compared to this. He never comprehended why or how people could do this, not until his first kill, the thrill, the rush, the freedom, the release. But that was secondary to the power he was feeling now…Part of him felt reckless for doing this here, now. He felt the surge of adrenaline as he was the one in control of it all, putting everyone in place, knowing he could be caught at any moment.

The guy in front of him roughly pulled the girl to him, whispering in her ear and she drunkenly nodded her approval of his proposal. They quickly moved off the dance floor and his cover was gone, leaving him open and exposed. The couple he's fixated on don't see him though, they concentrate on each other.

He leans into her again, whispering into her ear while stroking a fingertip along her elbow. She blushes and ducks her head shyly as she eyes him questioningly to see if his proposal is serious. Her date projects seduction as he nods at the rear exit, the one which leads to the alley which is frequented by other customers who can't control their carnal urges till they're in private. She looks nervous once again, pulling her lower lip between her teeth gently before glancing over at the door. She giggles at the prospect, but she's intrigued. It's clear she wants him; worried that saying no will make her less desirable to the man she wants. She looks like she wants to convince to wait till they're safely in her apartment, but she's enticed by the idea. She's never done anything that risky, she can't deny that she finds the thought exciting. Deliberately catching his eye she finally nods her head resolutely, if not hesitantly.

His responding smile is almost predatory as he gestures to her half-finished drink. She lifts her glass and swallows it quickly. So quickly she coughs as the alcohol passes through her throat. He pats her back softly and she waves him off with a lift of her hand. He removes his hand as he stands, not giving her the chance to back out. She releases a jumpy giggle as she accepts his hand to help her off the stool and grasp her clutch with the other.

No one pays them any heed as they head towards the exit hand in hand. The man confidently pushes the exit open as she takes one last look around the bar, her eyes sweeping past him as he watches her date tug her through the door.

The door closes quickly behind them and his feet begin to move. He pushes his way through the throng of people, trying not to bring any attention to his movement. A trance settles over him and he doesn't think he could stop if he wanted too. He can't hear the music over the pounding of his heartbeat. He reaches the door and shrugs his arm to drop the knife, the butt landing in his gloved covered curled palm. He grips it tightly and pushes the door before any doubt or second thoughts could set in.

His eyes adjust to the change of light and it takes him a moment to spot them up the alley, away from the street lights. They're mostly hidden behind a bulging dumpster which is being held down with bricks but their heads are visible as he presses her against the wall, groping and kissing her. They're too enthusiastic, losing themselves in the other. They're supposed to realise he was there, supposed to stop him but they don't hear him as he approaches, sliding the knife completely out of his sleeve, holding it by his side.

He rounds the corner of the dumpster and raises the knife quickly and brings it down, pushing it through the back of his neck then jerks it out with a gush of blood. His victim slumps against his date, his hand rising to the gap in the back of his neck. He lets out a strangled gasp that is drowned out by the short scream his date gives at the surprise attack. His knees give way and he falls to the floor.

He watches the red seeping through the fingers before raising his head to the shocked woman who is standing against the wall, paralysed by fear. She stares at him in fear and recognition, terror at the realisation. He grips the knife tighter, knows he should use it again but he can't. He can't do that to her.

"It's you," she whispers shakily. Somehow she manages to push herself from the wall towards him.

He can't do it. He can't kill her. He needs to do something, stop her as she finally recovers from the shock and is tugging her service weapon from her purse. He grabs a brick and swiftly hits her head. She grunts as she stumbles and falls to the ground, unconscious from the injury. He drops the brick and checks her pulse. Weak but still there. A trickle of blood is running down her face from the point of impact. He watches her for a second before the static crackle from her ear piece spurs him into action.

He lifts himself from a crouch looks at the spilled contents of her clutch, her shield and her gun. He needs to go because someone would be looking for them if they don't answer their back up soon. With one last look he walks away, blending into the shadows. He hears the door open and the other police officers storming the alley as he turns the corner into a connecting alley. He rolls the latex gloves down his hands, folding them over knife handle, smearing the blood on his glove. His trot turns into a run as he sees the blue and red flashing lights stopping at the end of the alley, sirens blaring. He reaches into his pocket and lifts out his own shield. He raises both hands in surrender, shield in one hand and the bloody knife in the other, at the uniformed officers running towards him with their guns drawn.