Dean had liked holding Peyton and cutting her throat more than stabbing the first three ones. It had felt like she had been more close to him. Like they had actually been a thing. Like there had actually been a story to tell.

That was why he was holding this one too. He had a hand over her mouth and held her with his arm across her chest. She was struggling and crying, not understanding what was going on.

He felt alive. He felt important. He felt like a god. He allowed her to struggle for almost half a minute before finally running his knife across her throat and ending her life. Like with Peyton he lowered her down on the ground, humming and stroking her hair.

"Sleep tight," he looked at her. "Nothing's ever gonna harm you again. Not even I can harm you again."

He carefully dug his fingers into the wound on her throat, getting her blood all over them so he could write a message on the wall. The cops needed to know. They already knew he was sorry. He needed help. He knew that. He needed their help.

"Another one with dark hair," Randy said.

"Her name was Billie," Laura said. "This time we actually have a connection with our last victim. Peyton owned that supermarket chain. Billie ran one of the supermarkets for Peyton."
"Maybe the other women used to work there too or at least shopped there. Maybe our killer is a pissed off employee. Starting with customers, working his way up the ladder," he said.
"Maybe," she nodded. "It's worth looking into."

They looked at the bloody message on the wall. The words "Stop me, please" was begging them.

"He wants to stop," she said.
"But he can't," he said.
"He's fucking begging us, Randy. He's not gonna stop on his own so he's begging us to help him," she pointed at the words. "Stop me, please. He doesn't like what he's become. Not yet at least. He's getting there. His method has become controlled and more personal."