I Can Hear a Serial Killer's Voice in My Head

But I'm not backing down. Not this time. "I'm sorry, sir, but I have to do this. It will only take a few minutes. If I'm wrong, you can write me up for insubordination. But if I'm right..."

I let the words hang in the air, the implication clear. If I'm right, and we leave now, we could be leaving a woman to die. My senior stares at me for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight. Then, finally, he nods. "Fine. But make it quick.

And if this turns out to be nothing, you're going to be on traffic duty for the next month."

I nod, barely hearing his words. I'm already moving, my feet carrying me back to the woman's apartment. I knock on the door, my heart pounding in my chest. "Ma'am, it's the police. Can you please open the door? We just want to make sure everything is alright."

As the woman opens the door, her face is etched with a mixture of confusion and apprehension. "Yes?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

And then, I hear it again. The voice in my head, speaking with a sense of urgency. "Check her arm."

I don't know why, but I follow the voice's instruction without hesitation. It's like a compulsion, a force that I can't resist. I look at the woman, my eyes pleading. "Ma'am, may I see your arm, please?"

She hesitates for a moment, but then slowly extends her arm towards me. And there, on her delicate skin, I see it. A trace of someone grabbing her, hard, as if they tried to pull her arm with brute force. The shape of the trace clearly shows that whoever did this tried to grab her from the opposite side, from outside her flat.

My heart races, and I feel a sense of dread washing over me. I lean in closer to the woman, my voice low and urgent. "The man you reported, he's in your flat, isn't he?"

She nods, her eyes wide with fear. I gently guide her out of the flat, my other hand reaching for my electronic police baton. "Come out," I say, my voice firm but reassuring. "You're safe now."

I turn back towards the flat, my baton at the ready. "I know you're hiding inside," I shout, my voice echoing in the empty apartment. "Show yourself!"

Behind me, I hear my senior approaching, still grumbling under his breath. "Oi, rookie. What's happening?"

But before I can respond, a figure slowly emerges from the shadows, his hands raised in surrender. My heart pounds in my chest, and I tighten my grip on the baton. The man is tall and wiry, with a gaunt face and eyes that seem to glitter with malice.

"Don't move," I command, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "You're under arrest for attempted assault and breaking and entering."

The man smirks, a cruel twist of his lips.

I take a step forward, my baton crackling with electricity. "I said, don't move."

But the man just laughs, a harsh, grating sound that sends shivers down my spine.

And then, faster than I can blink, he lunges towards me, his hands outstretched like claws. I react on instinct, my baton connecting with his chest with a sickening thud. He crumples to the ground, his body twitching and convulsing.

I stand over him, my chest heaving with exertion. Behind me, I hear my senior calling for backup, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and admiration.

***

After we arrest the man, we return to the police box, and I can see the impressed look on my senior's face. He turns to me, his eyebrows raised in a mix of curiosity and admiration. "How did you know?" he asks. "What made you want to go back and check?"

I smile at him, my mind racing as I try to come up with a plausible explanation. I can't tell him the truth, that I heard a voice in my head guiding me. He'd think I was insane, and my career would be over before it even began. So I take a deep breath and shrug, trying to play it cool. "I thought I heard some noise coming from inside her flat," I say, my voice casual.

"I just wanted to double-check, to make sure everything was okay."

My senior nods, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, you've got good instincts, rookie," he says, clapping me on the shoulder. "Keep up the good work, and you'll go far in this department."

I nod, a sense of pride swelling in my chest. "Yes, sir," I say, my voice firm with determination. "I will."

With that, I head back to my flat, my mind still reeling from the events of the day. As I lie on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, I can't help but think about the voice I heard earlier. It's been silent since we made the arrest, and a part of me wonders if I just imagined it, if the stress of the job is starting to get to me.

But then, out of curiosity, I decide to try something. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, focusing my thoughts on the voice. "Hello?" I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Are you there?"

Silence. I wait for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest. But there's no reply, no sign that the voice ever existed at all. I sigh, shaking my head. I must have heard it wrong, I think. It was just my imagination, a trick of the mind.

I roll over, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress. I need to get some sleep, to rest up for another day of patrols and paperwork. But just as I'm about to drift off, I hear it again. The same voice, the same eerie whisper that sent shivers down my spine.

"Hey."