Over the past few days, the combination of sleepless nights, along with loads of miscellaneous notes on the Origami killer, caused the young journalist's dark circles to transition from slightly blue to a deep purple. Her chin rested on the edge of the maple-wood desk, and her eyes were shut tightly, trying to dream away the haunting image of 11 year old Jeremey Bowles dumped on the wasteland; origami figure in the hand and an orchid on the chest.

After witnessing the abhorrent crime scene, she was determined to cover the story and somehow help find the killer and put an end to the series of deaths. As she inhaled and exhaled deeply, a pencil rolled back and forth, barely touching her chin and blowing back towards the computer screen . Long arms were sprawled across all the disoriented papers that had still yet to be organized.

Outside the cubicle near the main lobby, a tall, slightly thick-framed man leaned against the receptionist's desk and scratched absentmindedly at his beard. "We're looking for a … Nicole Jamison. D'She work here?" He eyed the name tag that was pinned onto the lady's purple blouse; It read Cathleen. "I'm Lieutenant Carter Blake and this is my partner, Norman Jayden." The man standing beside him was a bit taller, but slimmer. Short, neatly groomed dark-brown hair resided on his head. His five o'clock shadow contoured his face, making his jaw bones exceedingly prominent. He flicked out his FBI card with one swift movement and flashed it to her. Cathleen examined it closely and compared the card to the pale face of the man who, judging from his uninterested expression, seemed like he was a bit too familiar with this process. She nodded.

"Yes, last office down, to your left." She pointed the way.

"Thanks." Replied Carter nonchalantly, and waved Norman to follow along. He slipped his authorization card back into the pocket of his trousers and trailed along behind him. This small exchange sparked the interest of nearby workers who glanced up at their desks and whispered to each other. As Carter walked by, they all proceeded to sit back down and pretend to be working. Curiosity remained floating in the air.

"I'm telling you Blake," Norman started, making sure to keep his voice low. "It was a waste of time coming here. Her psychological profile is nowhere near what my data suggests the killer may be like. She's a 28 year old who works full time at an office. It just doesn't make any sense at all." He shook his head. "The killer should be a male, around the age of 30 to 45 and have a job that gives him some free time. Otherwise, she'd have no possible way of kidnapping those kids." Blake stopped walking and turned around.

"Look, Norman," He barked, "I don't care what your stupid FBI glasses say. She was there during the crime scene, and this is the only fuckin' lead we got. And even if she ain't the killer, she might have some information that could help us find that bastard. So shut your mouth and just follow me, got it?" He turned back around and resumed walking towards the office, huffing some swear words under his breath.

Norman furrowed his brows and a small sigh escaped his pink lips. Although they had only been partners for a few days, Norman had a feeling from the start that Blake would be like this. A rash, ruthless cop, who was quick to ignore protocol and jumped to conclusions in order to close the case quickly. Friction between the two had arisen from the start, and they were constantly arguing. Blake thought of Norman's psychological profiling as useless and irrelevant, and that didn't make things any better between the two. By now it was clear to Norman that it was best to stay out of Blake's way when they were on an investigation together.

Even though the two were supposed to be equal partners in crime, he was treated like nothing more than an acquaintance, and quite frankly he was beginning to get sick of it. Pretty soon he was sure he'd have an outburst of his own, and it wouldn't be a pretty sight to see.

"Officer Lieutenant Blake; are you Nicole Jamison?" The sound of someone else's voice startled the young journalist, and she abruptly woke up. She blinked hard a couple times and turned around to reveal two curious hazel orbs peeking out from under her black fringe. Norman noticed the papers scattered across her desk, all of them having the same title; The Origami Killer.

"I'm Norman Jayden, FBI." He said, leaning against the door frame. "We're here to investigate a case I believe you're familiar with, the Origami Killer. We heard you were the one who found the body, so we thought we'd ask you a couple questions." Norman's strong Boston accent was easily detectable as he spoke. He dug his hands deep into his pockets.

The image of a young boy's dead body flashed in her mind again, and she stared at her bulletin board, waiting for the momentarily overwhelming feeling of terror to disappear.

"Uh, Yes. I uh… I reported the body…" She said, as she finally plucked up the courage to speak. Norman could hear the distress apparent in her voice. "I was driving home from work when I thought I saw something- so I got out of my car and I found him there." She replied quietly. She bit her lip.

"I see." Blake replied, once again rubbing the beard that inhabited his chin. "And are you absolutely sure you didn't see anything else?"

"Yes I'm sure." The female nodded. Lieutenant Blake's piercing green eyes made it hard to make eye contact. The Norman guy seemed a bit less menacing, but the thought of him being an FBI agent was still a scary thought nonetheless. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work…" Nicole turned back around in her chair and took in a deep breath. She gathered all the scrambled papers together into one pile.

"I guess that's it then," Norman muttered. "Come on Blake, let's leave her alone. We've got places to be and-"

"You little liar." Blake snapped. "I know you did it!" he spun her chair around and stared her square in the eyes. Nicole's heart pounded against her chest and she gasped. "Why else would someone be driving around an abandoned wasteland? How else would someone have known where the body was? I bet you're just faking this whole thing so that you could cover up the fact that you are the fuckin' Origami Killer!"

The whole office went silent. The only sound was that of the printers, but no one spoke a word. "I'll have to call you back, please hold." Cathleen softly whispered, as she hung up the phone. The whole office was aghast .

"Blake what're you doing!" Norman shouted, appalled. Blake grabbed Nicole's wrists and pulled them behind her back.

"You're coming down to the station with us! That'll make you talk…"

"Let go of me!" She squirmed. She wanted to kick him, but there was no knowing what a cop could do. Especially one like him.

"Blake! Let her go! You have no right to do this!" Norman's voice stormed

"Who's side are you on NORMAN?" Blake volleyed back, his nostrils flaring with anger.

"I don't know Blake, but I'm getting pretty fuckin' sick of being treated like a worthless piece of crap by you!" Norman could feel the blood in his veins get hot, and his fingers curled up to form a fist.

Blake's angry eyes were fierce enough to burn through a brick wall. He clicked the handcuffs around Nicole's wrist and shoved past Norman.

"Get out of my way, you useless cunt." He huffed, and dragged the terrified journalist out of the room.

"Let me go! I didn't do anything!" She yelled.

"Blake, you get your ass over here! And let her… let her go…" Norman tried to yell; an uncomfortable but familiar warm feeling took over his body. His hands began to shake and a sharp pain striked in his temples.

Shit not now… not now…

He could feel blood dripping from his nose down to his lips; it tasted metallic, like licking a copper pot. But warmer, and deep. Norman's shaking hand reached for the pocket of his coat. He could feel the shape of the vial and he clenched it in his hand.

No I can't… they'll see me… Shit! Not now…

His face completely flushed of any color and glowed with a ghostly shade of pale. His vision became blurred and he clenched his fists; fingernails digging deep into the palm of his hand. His legs began to sway from side to side unwillingly, and he grabbed the top of the cubicle wall , hoping for some support.,

Fuck... Fuck! Not now...

Is anyone looking? Fuck! of course they're looking. God damn. God damn it Norman!

I hope you guys enjoy :D ~ Ahh yess, Norman Jayden.

Can you sense a bit of romance coming up? Probably not. I didn't hint it well enough.

In the next chapter I will, I promise. I can't wait .

All reviews are welcome :D