Moon: glorious moon. It calls to me, and I feel my Dark Passenger rise up like a cobra, ready to strike. The moon puts a voodoo spell on me, and transfixes the monster inside me to the point where I am entirely helpless. I sit, watching my old friend the moon, but alas, tonight is not the night. Well, it is not my usual night with my lunar amigo. Tonight's the night where the moon is merely a young boy in a costume, smiling on a stage in front of his dearly devoted daddy, while the deficiently demonic parents seem to be unwaveringly bound to their cameras. They remain transfixed on their children, intent on demonstrating their complete love and appreciation for their kids. Dexter devoid of emotion still feels something that could only be described as a distant cousin of utter humanness while watching young Cody in his escapades. Tonight, I ready myself to reunite with my other, more innocent moon friend.
"Good job, Cody!" I say, while patting the boy on the back. Astor isn't quite as enthusiastic as I, considering that she called the overall play "lame" numerous times, but she still smiles and reaffirms my compliments to her brother. The kids, as usual, ask about little Harrison, who is thankfully in the hands of Sonya. Right, I still have to get back home. Ok, pizza and ice cream with the kids, and then I hit the road.
Now that Astor and Cody are back with their grandparents, after a summer sans my homicidal behavior, I still haven't had the chance to reunite with my passenger – thanks to a persistent, puppy-dog eyed Cody's play. This, I'm sure, is just one in a long line of events that will force me to keep my shadowy friend at bay. At least it's only a couple of times a year.
Home sweet home.
"Thanks Sonya – sorry I was late, there was some traffic for a while there." "That's okay, Dexter. Harrison was very talkative today – he's even learned some new words," Sonya informs me enthusiastically, but I'm a little worried after the "Die, die" incident.
"Oh…" I say awkwardly, "Come on Harrison," says Sonya, "Say what you told me earlier." After a pause that seemed much longer than it actually was, I hear a high-pitched, sweetly spoken word: "blood." Ah, just great. "That's interesting…why did he say 'blood'?" "He didn't say 'blood,' Dexter, he said 'love.' Maybe you're still tired from the drive home." "Must be." I hear Harrison say what sounds more like 'love' before Sonya leaves; I guess I could use some shut-eye.
Unfortunately, 'no rest for the wicked' happens to be a cliché I'm particularly susceptible to…I seem to have missed a phone call from devoted Detective Deb. "Hey, Dex. I guess you're still with Cody…just, call me back tomorrow. I need you're super-bad-guy detecting skills ASAP." Why can't my fellow homicidal maniacs kill during the workweek? Ugh.
My sister hasn't been investigating me too much lately; she's too busy with work…and Quinn. I may not be a fan of his, but hey, I'll take anything right now to avoid anyone uncovering the monster behind my mask. [Dials Deb's number from home phone.] "Hey Deb," but before I can finish, my darling sister says, "What took you so long, Dex?" "Uh…I needed breakfast, and then I –" "Whatever, Dex. See, I'm working this case – and I have a hunch but I need to get your opinion."
Ah, my sister knows me too well – well, sort of, "Sure Deb, is this the bar bludgeoning case by any chance?" "Yeah, but we've got shit. I just kind of have a feeling that it's that Adams guy, what do you think?" "I'm not sure he's your guy sis…" because he's mine.
"Fuck, you sure Dex? Cause he just kind of seemed off, you know?" Poor Deb, I could just put her out of her misery like I might have a few years ago, but I really, really need to kill this guy; "Deb, I'm sure."
Mitch Adams: three bar altercations in the last four years; fight provoker extraordinaire. Usually he gets away with his crimes because he claims self-defense, keeps his fights outside and away from witnesses, and has the money for a good lawyer. I've wanted this guy on my table for a while now, but needed to be dutiful dad Dexter over the summer. My Dark Passenger almost can't wait, but tonight still isn't the night.
"Dexter – over here!"
Tonight is the night where I have an awkward dinner with Quinn. For some reason, he wants to get to know me better. I better go and join him, he seemed anxious on the phone.
"Hi," I say awkwardly, "So what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" "Well…" Quinn says, avoiding looking at me. Uh-oh. "You know how I feel about your sister, Dex. I just thought that maybe I should talk to you before I do anything too fast." Wait for it…
"I want to spend the rest of my life with Deb, Dexter." Oh boy. Don't kill Deb's boyfriend, don't kill Deb's boyfriend…
"I, uh, isn't it a little soon, Quinn?" "It's just that, I really love her and care for her, Dexter–" "I get it, I get it. I just don't want you to-" "Hurt her? Wouldn't dream of it, Dexter." Considering Deb's dating history and Quinn's former Doakes-iness towards me, I don't think this is going to end well. On top of that, I've never really liked the guy. But, what makes Deb happy should probably be more important than what makes her heartless brother's life less confusing, right?
"If you really want to, then you should ask her. It's just really bad timing right now, Quinn, what with all the cases you two are working on. Just, wait a little while."
"Thanks, Dexter," [Waitress passes.] "Just bring one bill when we're done, I'm paying." I wish he wouldn't be so nice to me, the winking and smiling is kind of creepy too. I suppose that's better than his outright suspicion of my homicidal tendancies.
Tonight is finally the night.
I stopped by a hardware store and picked up my usual plastic wrap, duct tape, kill tools, and of course, life vests. Harrison is happily in the arms of Sonya reciting his favorite words for her while I visit Mitch Adams' favorite bar. There's the moon again, my Dark Passenger's call to action; and this time, it's for real. It's just a matter of waiting before I can…
[Phone rings.] Fuck, this isn't helping the whole incognito thing. It's dispatch. "Hello, this is Dexter Morgan," I answer. A crime scene, oh joy. Better yet, it's at Mitch's bar, which is only five minutes away now. I better drive around the block a few times before arriving. The kill clothes should probably go too.
"Deb! What's going on?" I say upon arrival at the scene, "That Mitch guy I was talking about was bludgeoned, Dex. I'll let Masuka fill you in on some of the other twisted shit he found." Huh, tonight really isn't the night now…or ever in Mitch's case.
It's kind of odd that a bludgeoner like Mitch was bludgeoned outside of his favorite bar, where he usually creates the crime scenes. It's strangely poetic, but it doesn't make sense. Maybe it was just a bar fight in an alleyway, and maybe Mitch did a little too good of a job provoking his victim.
"Vince, what have we got so far?" "A bludgeoning, duh…" "Yeah, but is there anything out of the ordinary? Any witnesses?" I just need to know how this happened; who spoiled my fun? "You're the blood guy, Dexter. Why don't you go see for yourself? Hehehehe…" What? Now I'm really curious.
Then I see it. Adjacent to the body there appears to be blood on the wall, but not in a pattern that's related to a bludgeoning. "More lights, anyone?" Someone hands me a large flashlight. "Oh, wow…that's strange…" There's an infinity symbol painted on the wall in blood. "I'll test this back at the lab," luckily, Masuka lent me some basic supplies because I only had my kill kit, not my blood kit.
"Morning Dexter! No doughnuts?" Masuka seems cheery today. "No, I was busy. With Harrison," not as if I was busy delving into Mitch Adam's past and lost track of time. "So, Vince, did you find anything in the DNA on the Mitch Adams case?" "No, not yet." "Then, why are you so cheerful?" I'm not sure if I want to ask Masuka this, but maybe it'll help hide my unfulfilled blood-thirst after last night's fiasco. "I, uh, hehehe," I'm already starting to regret asking him, "things are getting pretty awesome with my girlfriend. How did I get someone so hot?" "I dunno, Vince." "Hey, you're just jealous, Dexter." "Must be."
Ever since Masuka met his new girlfriend before Harrison's birthday party, he's been focused less on me. This could work to my advantage.
"Blood results, Dexter," "Thanks, Vince." I practically tear open the file. "The sample from the weird infinity thing matches Mitch's blood," Vince just stares at me, "Fuck. You should really talk to Deb," "Oh, ok." I head off to find my sister.
I tell her the results. "Fuck! That kind of goes against my theory…great," "You had a theory?" I ask her, feeling as if I've been left out of some big secret. "Ok, ok. Well there were some cases where this one killer kept on leaving behind the exact same symbol, only it was his own blood. Now, here's where it gets tricky. We know that Mitch Adams wasn't the killer, but we still don't know whose blood it is, it's not in out database. And, now all of a sudden there's Mitch's blood on the wall beside his dead body. Do you know what the weirdest part is? The other killer, the one we haven't found yet, was a vigilante. So what I wanna know is why there's someone going around copying his M.O. down to the symbol, albeit with different blood, and even a victim who was a killer."
"Shit, Deb. So this means that there's some kind of copycat vigilante," she nods her head, and I hasten towards my lab.
[Phone Rings.] "Sergeant Batista…ok…got it…" [He puts the phone down.] "Listen up everyone, we've got a body in a night club, some place called 'Fever.' The manager found the body this morning…" I look around as Angel directs me to grab my blood kit. Deb's face makes me rush more because of her sudden excitement. No one decides to fill me in at the moment.
It's strange seeing a club with the lights fully on. Now I know why they're usually dark: the graffiti, dirt, and less attractive nightclub goers are hidden by a veil of unknowing. Like my Passenger, they are better when hidden; Dexter devoid of directness.
"Tommy Gray, a.k.a. Priscilla Diamond, 35, stabbed to death in a small storage room. Drag Queen, and frequent visitor to this club," I look at Deb after her statement, "And of course, there's the infinity thing again," I point out. "Yes, thanks for that Dexter," she says semi-sarcastically.
"There's too much glitter on this crime scene. But luckily, because I'm awesome, it's no problem for me. Remember: LFI on the BHB…" "I know, Vince. I'll just get to the blood work…"
Like usual, I take samples, pictures, and head back to my lab.
"Are you serious?" "Yeah, Deb I checked and the blood from the vic matches not only the infinity symbol, but also all of the other ones from the previous crime scenes. So now you've found your guy." Deb pauses a long time, I don't blame her though because I'm still a bit confused myself.
"Wait, so then someone killed Tommy Grey, but used his M.O.?" "That seems to be the case, Deb. I'm not sure what else to –" "Hang on! Shit, there's some kind of vigilante out there, who's just killed another one…fuck, Dex, why the fuck would anyone do this? …And why was none the blood at the Mitch Adams crime scene Tommy Gray's?"