I do not own Twilight or Dexter.

If a darker fic is not to your liking I would suggest you give this a miss.

Thank you to Sherry for all the help and encouragement. Love ya.

Any mistakes are my own as I tend to add things after Sherry has worked her magic.

Edward.

The moonlight highlights the streets of Seattle, it's a quiet night; calm, almost peaceful… The perfect setting.

Tonight's the night. I had been watching him for a week now, it has to happen tonight. He's not the first and certainly won't be the last. I had been sitting outside his apartment building every night; watching, waiting. He had a routine, a routine that I had down to a tee.

"There he is," I murmured to myself, as I watched him leave on his midnight run. I guess being a jock-type individual made him feel safe about running at this time of night.

Mike Newton, son of Richard and Vivian Newton. Lovely, salt of the earth family. He's the one that's been questioned in connection with the rape and murder of four women. Not enough evidence. I hate when that happens… but he's guilty; I know it, and so does he.

My blade will get a confession from him before the night is over.

I followed behind him at a slow, steady pace; the needle tucked into my pocket, ready for him. Gaining speed I wait until we are nearing my car that I parked at the edge of the trail. Then I pounce, my left hand clamping over his mouth, as my right hand stuck the needle into his neck. I watch as his wide shocked eyes rolled into the back of his head; the drug taking hold over his body.

~E~

Stripped completely naked and bound to the table. I wake my guest up.

"Time to wake up, Mike." I tap his face and his eyes open wide; he pulls at the restraints, panicked, he tries to scream behind the tape over his mouth. I watch as his eyes move around the room, no doubt taking in the plastic covering the walls.

"Did they scream, Mike?" I walked around the table, grabbing the portable easel board. "Did they?" I set the board up in front of the table and tack four pictures up. Four girls, beaten and raped by this man.

"Look at them," Mike squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head away. "Look before I cut your fucking eyelids off." His eyes open wide and he turns to look at the board.

Removing the gag, I listened to his pleas, "I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry. Oh God. Oh God."

"Stop! God won't help you!" I shout, hating his pathetic cries.

"Please."

"Stop... It's time for the truth."

"Please… I'll do anything… Please." Tears start to fall down his face as he begs.

"That's good. Beg. Did these girls beg, Mike?" I start to display my equipment, relishing at the fear I see in his eyes.

His cries grow louder as he babbles his excuses, "Please. I couldn't help myself, I just couldn't... Please, you have to understand." His sobbing and snivelling disgusts me.

Trust me, I understand perfectly.

I lean down to look into his eyes. "See, I can't help myself either. But innocent women?" I shake my head. "You did this because it gets you off. You like to fuck women and then kill them." The disgust is clear in my voice and I lean in closer. "You see I have standards. A code I like to follow."

I move the tray so he can see the equipment I had brought for him. His eyes took in the bottles of chemicals, small saws, drills, scalpels, and knives of every shape and size. It's an unseemly display of gleaming, sterile metal utensils. Before he can scream again, I tape his mouth back shut, as far as I was concerned he had already admitted to the crime. The details weren't necessary.

Putting on my surgical gloves, I spoke, "I guess you could say I've taken it upon myself to rid the world of scum like you."

I pick up the scalpel and make an incision on his cheek. Watching the blood drip slowly down his cheek; I caught a bit on my finger, wanting so much to feel it on my bare skin. "You see, Mike, blood tends to get me a little… excited. I guess you could say it's my drug of choice." I rubbed the blood between my thumb and forefinger, feeling the adrenaline start to course through my body. I'm positively vibrating with excitement.

Taking a few deep breaths I control myself and smile at Mike. Time to get to work. Cracking my neck, I pick up the saw and turn it on. I watch as Mike begins to panic; his screams muffled by the tape over his mouth. I bring the saw slowly down between his legs and start to remove the very appendage that caused him all this trouble in the first place. I watch as his blood flies from the blade and relish at the feel of it on my arms and face. The splatter of it coating the plastic walls remind me of the abstract art shown in some of the galleries Esme was so fond of. I wonder if people would appreciate it, see the beauty in the red liquid coating the plastic. The very essence that gives life to them. Probably not.

The rest of my tasks go without trouble. Mike's screams died off after I had started to remove his toes. Blood loss is a bitch.

I bag Mike's body up in several different trash bags ready for disposal and place them in the trunk of my car. Driving through town, I think about whatever made me this way. I'm hollow; empty inside. People fake a lot of human interactions, but I fake it all, and I fake it very well. The problem is; I care for people about as much as I care for my shoes. My adoptive parents have nothing to do with the way I am. Carlisle and Esme raised me well and Carlisle has even taken to helping me with deal with my little 'hobby'.

I remember the day he first spoke to me about it, I was twelve.

I was helping my father work in his office at home, organizing his files. "Edward, son, there's something we need to discuss." I look up at Carlisle as he speaks. "You're different, aren't you?"

I swallow hard, "What do you mean?"

"The Turners said Mittens, their cat, has gone missing."

I turn away from him, not wanting to talk about this. My eyes stayed on the file in my hand.

"I found the grave, son." His voice was soft, but firm.

I turn to face him, feeling the anger surface. "That stupid cat kept coming inside our house and mom's allergic, it made her sick. It scratched Alice the other week and it's always meowing. Keeping everybody up at night."

Carlisle continues to look at me, "There were a lot of bones in there Edward… And not just Mittens." He walks round the table and places his hand on my shoulder. "How long has this been going on, son?"

"A while," I speak between gritted teeth.

His arm comes over my shoulder and he pulls me to him.

Pulling up to my house I wait for the garage doors to open and smile. I got lucky when I purchased this property; not only because it was situated away from everybody, perfectly placed in the forest, but because not many places have their very own crematory. My house used to be a funeral home in the early eighties, and fortunately for me, the furnace that was located in the basement still worked perfectly well. I had made a private entrance to the basement in the garage, behind the large wheeled shelving unit I used to store tools that I never used. It made disposing of the body's quite easy.

Parking in the garage, I opened the trunk and started to remove Mike. I moved the wheeled shelving unit, so I could open the small, hidden door behind it.

It took a good ten minutes to get Mike down to the basement and into the furnace. Moving a chopped up body can be quite challenging, especially if you're trying to avoid getting any nicks in the bags. Blood was a bitch to remove from stone floors.

Heading into my bedroom I undressed and walked naked towards the bathroom. Showering for ten minutes, I lather up all over, scrub my face hard, then knead the shampoo deep into my scalp. I enjoy the whole experience a great deal. Drying myself in front of the mirror, I brushed my teeth for two minutes before entering my closet and choosing my work clothes for the following day. Everything is organized and precise. Just the way I liked it.

My life consisted of routines, Carlisle had taught me how to cover my tracks; everything had to be perfect or I would slip and get myself caught.

I'm a very neat monster.

~E~

The next morning I start my daily routine of fifty situps and twenty pushups before getting dressed in my usual neatly pressed black trousers, crisp white shirt, and black tie; they have become my daily uniform.

Grabbing my usual bagel and coffee on my way to work; I enter the building at precisely 8:45. Never a minute before or after.

"Good morning, Dr. Cullen." I nod to the nurse whose name I don't care to remember and head straight to my office.

At the age of thirty-three, I have become well respected in my profession, and I was now the Head of the Emergency Department. Carlisle was surprised when I decided to study medicine, not quite understanding the dynamics between my career and my 'hobby'.

Out of his three adopted children, I was the least expected to follow in his footsteps. I didn't exactly have the greatest bedside manner or a tolerance for people, but I could fake it when needed, and Carlisle was suitably impressed with my dedication to my chosen field. It's the side job he didn't care too much for.

Hurried footsteps met my ears, and I turned to see a nurse hurrying in my direction. "Dr. Cullen, automobile accident on the 405 at Bellevue. Casualties on route." I thanked the Nurse and headed to the ambulance bay in the ER.

I watch as the stretchers start to appear, each one containing minor injuries, turning I follow a gurney with a child on it only to be stopped by my name being called.

"Dr. Cullen!" I turn to see a familiar police officer running beside a stretcher and run to join him.

"What do we have?"

"Drunk driver. He was the initial cause of the accident, I suspect it's a broken leg." I nod to the paramedic as he places my patient in the trauma room and start to check his vitals.

Warm breath hit my ear as the officer leans over to speak to me. "Fucking idiot's tanked. Crashed into numerous cars before hitting a post." He pulls me away from the injured man.

"Officer," I speak but before I can continue he interrupts me.

"Bullshit, Doc, he could have killed someone." The anger in his eyes is clear.

"Officer Cullen, if you don't allow me to do my job I will have to ask you to leave." My voice rises as his angry blue eyes focus on mine. While it might be said that I had no heart, my brother, Emmett had it in abundance. He cared too much and that would be his downfall if I allowed it.

"Sorry," He mumbled out, throwing his big body into the tiny chair at the side of the bed.

Continuing with my examination I thought about Emmett's involvement with my 'hobby'. He was the person who gave me my target, having stumbled across my secret when I was in my teens; Carlisle had convinced him that I needed protecting. So being the big brother he was, he joined the police force and made sure that every one of my targets was guilty of their crimes. The way he saw it, ridding the world of criminals was a service now provided by the Cullen brothers. He picked them, I killed them. I don't think he truly understood what it was I did, or why. He just knew that I was doing it and that was enough for him.

Emmett had recently married the love of his life, Rosalie. She was a receptionist at the police station he worked at; some people would call her beautiful, but all I saw was the vapid, shallow human being she was. I often wondered if Emmett would get tired of her and allow me to remove her from our lives, but Carlisle assured me that she was a permanent fixture and hurting my brother by killing his wife was not an option. Pity.

The nurse entering the trauma room sends me a wink as she places my supplies on the tray. Informing Emmett that his partner has been looking for him.

Watching her leave I frowned, "I wish she'd stop that. It's one of those mating rituals which I really don't understand."

"What?" Emmett looks at me puzzled.

"Winking. That nurse is always winking at me." Emmett's booming laugh makes me cringe.

"Nurse Tanya wants you, man."

"Okay, so she wants sex. But I still don't understand why she insists on making herself look like she has an uncontrollable tick every time she speaks to me." Emmett's laugh gains in volume.

Thankfully, his partner interrupts our conversation, saving me from the no doubt uncomfortable conversation Emmett was going to subject me too.

Officer James Hunter was a tall, stocky, pleasant enough looking man; whose large gray eyes might be a little too close together for my liking. He had shoulder length hair tied back into a low ponytail, which would be acceptable if he washed it more than once a month. I held back the sneer of disgust. Would it kill him to look a little more presentable?

"Cullen." He turned to face me. "Other Cullen." His smile was sarcastic, for some reason we didn't get along. Maybe it was because there was something that sounded my alarm bells; for some reason he rubbed me the wrong way and he seemed to relish in it.

"Officer Hunter." Finishing my task, I noted down the drunks vitals in his chart. "He's all yours now, gentlemen. His leg isn't broken. I will send a nurse to sober him up, then you can take him into custody."

Turning, I leave and make my way back to my office; Emmett's loud voice sounds down the corridor. "Meet me for lunch, bro?" I turn to look at him and instantly know from the look on his face that this isn't a friendly, brotherly lunch meeting, not that we ever had those before.

"Usual place?" He nods and leaves.

He probably wants to know how last night went. Although, we have a 'don't ask, don't tell policy' he sometimes can't resist asking for information. The information he knew I would never give up; maybe he has a new target for me.

Reaching my office, I make my daily phone call to my sister. If I didn't do it at least once a day, I would never hear the end of it. Alice was the baby of the family, married with a child on the way. She is the apple of her daddy's eye. Carlisle adored her, catered to her. She was spoiled, but she meant well and she loved me, it was evident in everything she did. Although I don't particularly understand her I have learned to tolerate her and if I had to choose, if I was capable of feeling the emotion at all, I would like to think that I would choose to love her.

~E~

Leaving my office, I speak to Mrs. Cope, my receptionist.

"I'm off to lunch, Shelly. You can take yours now if you want." She offers me a motherly smile. I appreciate Mrs. Cope; she's discrete doesn't gossip, and doesn't take offence when I'm not particularly friendly.

"You got a date, Dr. Cullen?" She leans in and smirks.

"No, I'm meeting Emmett for lunch. I should be back in an hour."

"You should find yourself a pretty girl, Dr. Cullen."

"I found you," I wink at her, feeling ridiculous with the act and turn to leave. "I'll bring you some dessert."

"A man after my own heart!" Sending her a fake chuckle I make my way out of the hospital.

Entering the small, back alley restaurant I stand back and watch Emmett laugh with the waitress. He's always so happy. Always has been, even when we were children.

"It's okay, son." Carlisle is giving me his full attention and I don't like it.

"Well,… I kinda, you know feel something, like inside, watching me…"

He leans forward, looking at me intently. His eyes alight. "Do you hear voices?"

"No,… it's not really a voice… it's something… something different." I look away from him, embarrassed and focus my attention on Emmett playing in the yard.

"And this something… it makes you want to kill?" Emmett kicks a ball with a huge smile on his face.

I shake my head, "It doesn't really make me. It just makes it seem like a really good idea."

"Do you ever want to kill something bigger? Like a human?"

I nod. My eyes still watching Emmett. He's always smiling. I don't get it.

"And why don't you?"

"You and mom would be upset. I don't want to make you mad at me." I look at him. "Are you, pops? Are you mad? I didn't want to disappoint you."

"Yo, Edward." I look towards Emmett and make my way over to our usual table, sitting down. I smile and he frowns. "You okay? You just stood there staring."

"Just thinking."

He nods but says nothing, he's always found me strange but has learned to accept it for the most part.

"I already ordered your usual… Hey, do you want to come for dinner this week? I was thinking of asking Alice and Jasper, maybe Mom and Dad." I stared at him. No, that sounds like hell to me.

"Sure," I smile at him and I know he can see its fake.

"Come on, Ed. It will be good to get us all together." Sure. It would also be good if I could kill your wife, but you don't see me doing that. Do you?

"Okay, Emmett," The waitress arrives with our food and Emmett wastes no time digging in. It really is disgusting.

He looks down at the table and laughs. I follow his eyes to see a note placed beside my plate. It seems the waitress has left her cell number. Call me… Not likely.

I screw the paper up and place it in the middle of the table.

"Oh come on, man. She was hot!" He looks at me seriously. "You do know you don't have to marry them… Just hookup. One night of wild, dirty sex. Nothing more. It might do you some good."

I don't understand sex. It's not in my nature. I don't have anything against women, but when it comes to the actual act of sex, it just seems so undignified. That's not to say I have never participated in the act. But the four times I did wasn't really anything to write home about. There were no emotions involved and I think I may have actually scared a couple of the women. I had decided to try and be normal while I attended college. Carlisle even thought it might help curb my cravings for blood if I started to use the other appendage men were often so fond of using. It didn't and it just proved to me that I wasn't capable of that kind of emotion. Sex was empty. Meaningless, and overall unfulfilling. I was quite capable of getting myself off why use someone else to do it.

"I'm not interested Emmett." He accepted my answer, just like always but live always I'm sure he wanted to ask questions. I could see the curiosity burning in his eyes.

Eating with Emmett was preferable than eating in the hospital cafeteria. There was no need for small talk or polite conversation, mainly because he didn't stop eating long enough to start a conversation.

After lunch, while I was waiting for Mrs. Cope's chocolate cake. Emmett pushed a file towards me, "Everything went okay last night?"

I nod, grabbing the file and placing it in my jacket. "Everything went great." As the waitress brings Mrs. Cope's cake, I stand. "I need to get back to work. See you soon."

Without waiting for his reply I leave the restaurant and head back to the hospital. Leaving Mrs. Cope's dessert on her desk, I head back to the Emergency Room.

~E~

The rest of the day is filled with minor cuts and ailments; nothing I could sink my teeth into and it sets me on edge. I start to become restless and my mind wanders to the file in my office. The file that no doubt contains my next victim. Looking at my watch I note that I have one hour of my shift left and then I can head home.

Picking up the file for my next patient, I walk into room 3, head down as I read the information.

"Isabella Swan." Twenty-five years old. Deep laceration to the right arm.

I look up and find myself looking into big, brown eyes framed with thick, black lashes.

Wow…

Thank you for reading and thank you in advance for any reviews.

Have a Killer day.