It's hard to believe that I just killed my 8th victim when I don't even know why I'm doing this. My heart commands me not to do such a thing, but my hands tell another story.
Chicago wakes up to the terrible news that the serial killer took one more life. People get even more hysterical than they were a few days ago and Albert Simon, the chief-inspector, calls the famous Agent Vincent Mccgregor so that this case can be solved as fast as possible.
Albert’s police station receives about 15 calls a day reporting cases such as stalking or harassment and the chief-inspector is so desperate that he no longer knows what to do, people are so scared that they forgot how to live in a community.
As Mr. Simon gets no answer, he decides to enter the agent's office and sees that he's sleeping with his mouth open. After taking some pictures to Vincent’s funny face, Albert warms his voice and the tired agent wakes up to that noise.
-You must be kidding me, there’s a serial killer out there and all you do is sleeping? — the chief-inspector starts with an angry face.
-I’m sorry… but yesterday I was investigating a little more about this case and I just can’t understand what the serial killer’s motivations are. It just doesn’t make any sense to me, he killed 6 women and 2 men, and they all had different ages and weren’t related at all.
-I know... this guy must be out of his mind! The only thing we know is that all of his crimes took place during the night.
-What makes you think that the serial killer isn’t a woman?
-Oh yeah right, I almost forgot why I called you -Albert takes something out of his pocket — here, they found this beside the last victim’s body.
It’s a golden ring. The size is big but that information isn’t enough for the experienced Agent’s mind to be completely sure about the serial killer being a man.
-The ring has a large size but the murderer could be a fat female- Vincent tries to show his point but Albert can’t help but laugh — can I take a closer look at the ring, please?
After analyzing it for a bit, Vincent starts to get pale.
-Are you ok? — Albert asks.
-Yes, let me just sit down for a bit.
When the Agent is about to sit on a near chair he faints and falls on the floor.
In the ambulance, Vincent gathers enough oxygen until he can pronounce a sentence.
-I’ve seen that ring before.
Albert had thousands of questions on his mind but as soon as he watches his long-time friend in such a frightened state, he gives up.
When Vincent's eyes start to open he listens to Albert and the doctor's conversation.
-Yes, he has a disease- Albert starts and the agent shivers- but Vincent is one of the most loved workers in Chicago, and he's also controlled by the medicine he has been taking.
-We didn't find any medicine inside his stomach though...-the doctor rummages through the sheets, containing the analyses, and points to a paragraph that proves exactly what he was saying.
Albert scratches his head and affirms:
-He must've had forgotten...we've been pretty busy these days, it's normal...
-Well, Mr. Simon, it's your job to take care of your worker... we never know what can happen.
The chief-inspector nods and then notices his worker's intrigued eyes.
-Hey Vincent, are you ok buddy?
-I ran out of my medicine and because I didn't want to lose any time buying them, I thought that I would be ok if I stopped taking them for some time...guess I was wrong.
Albert places his hand on the friend's shoulder and then proceeds to talk about work as if nothing had happened.
-The forensic team is going to analyze this ring -he points to the golden piece of jewelry and gives it to the agent- I want you to tell me, again, if you've seen this before or not.
Vincent grabs the ring, shaking, and he twirls it around and looks for minutes straight until he finally opens his mouth to say something;
-I received this back when I was serving in the army, we can't see it that well but it used to have the phrase “No eat” it was actually given to me, by a Portuguese colleague of mine that told me more about Portugal itself and the fact that "no eat" sounds similar to the word “noite” which stands for “night”. He also told me that he loved the night because he felt invisible and powerful.
-What? Where's that Portuguese guy at? The way he portraits the night is way too similar to the way our serial killer does...-Albert notes.
-He died a few years ago chief, forget about it.
Albert goes back to the police station and after obtaining the results of the tests he runs back to the hospital and tells the agent that they were only able to identify biological traces of two people: the last victim and his (Vicent's).
-That's impossible! I haven't seen this ring in ages, I lost it even before I moved to Chicago. — Vincent yells in a hasty manner.
-I know, don't worry. The only problem here is that you're being incriminated... is there someone who could do this to you?
-Well, not to sound like a proud man, but I am an agent who has sent to prison over 200 people now, and you're asking me if there's someone out there who would like to watch me fall? Ask on the reverse, and I'll count with my fingers the number of those who don't want anything bad to happen to me.
Mr. Simon breathes heavily and, after a couple of hours filled with discussions for future investigations and action plans, they're both able to return to their homes.
A few days later, the 9th victim is caught by the serial killer's fierce appetite. But this time the crime scene was not expected at all.
Cameras’ flashes echo everywhere, the way this whole crime happened is a good image for the newspaper's front page.
Vincent's car was the scene of the crime, which means that someone would have had to enter his house and steal the keys, but nothing was out of the place when he woke up in the morning, which scares him even more and makes him furious. He is now 100% sure that there is really someone out there trying to drag him down since that person could’ve had killed him at the time and decided not to. The person will be more pleased to watch him slowly hit rock bottom.
Two officers are chosen to patrol around Vincent’s house, but all they do is smoking, talking to random girls on the streets, etc…
At some point, Albert tells Vincent that he no longer knows what to do, he told him that he didn’t want this monster to win, but he is way too good.
-Why do you say that?- Vincent asks.
-He doesn’t leave any clues… the forensic team told me that they only found your DNA and the victim’s, back when there was the car incident.
—”He”? Maybe that's the problem... we are looking for a perfectionist male when females are the ones known for being like that.
After this statement, Vincent closes himself inside his office and works until he no longer can keep his eyes open.
The days go by and Chicago continues to be a mess.
Vincent seeks out for the chief-inspector and finds him eating a huge croissant in the morning.
-First of all, ew. Second of all, how are you going to run after the murderer if you keep on eating junk food?
-You talk a lot but those skinny legs of yours don't hold out as much as mine.
Both laugh and then the agent goes straight to the point:
-I remembered when you asked me about my army colleague, the Portuguese one, and I told you that he died ... well, his wife is still alive.
-Let's interrogate her then!- Albert suggests.
-But now besides eating like an ox, you also want to travel the world just like that?
Albert looks at the ground embarrassed but then remembers that he is the boss and gives an idea to solve the problem;
-We can interrogate her by video call.
Both come into contact with Maria, the Portuguese man's wife, and she agrees to collaborate with the case. After many questions, both of them conclude that if this woman was involved in the case, then the world was a really scary place to leave because how could such a sweet woman, who only wants to cook custard tarts, kill anyone? Impossible!
After days of intense investigation, Vincent comes home tired and the moment he looks in the mirror to brush his teeth, he begins to review the cases in his head. But At that time, he realizes that something is wrong, he can imagine the crimes completely, even what he didn't find in the evidence.
Vincent looks at his own face and starts to scream, the two guards enter the bathroom, and he says:
-Take me, I killed all these people!
The guards look at each other and one of them leaves the place to report the incident to the chief-inspector. Albert goes to the place and when he arrives, he finds the agent lying on the sofa, almost as if he was passed out, and approaches him.
-I killed all these people!!
The chief-inspector looks around until he finds the box of pills that was intact on the shelf of Vincent's room. He wasn't taking his medicine and his disease, Dissociative Identity Disorder, was taking advantage of him. Albert grabs two pills and forces Vincent to swallow them and, after some minutes, everything was calm again.
-What happened? Did you see something?- Albert asks.
-Yes! It was so strange... I could totally feel and see everything that happened during every single one of the murderers— the agent affirms.
-That's so scary but awesome at the same time — one of the guards states.
-I know that this may sound weird, but what if we took advantage of Vincent's state to discover more about each case?- Albert suggests.
The two guards look at each other and then fix their eyes on the agent that, after swallowing hard, agrees with the suggestion.
On an autumn morning, Albert and Vincent try to recreate last week's episode and surprisingly, it works. The poor agent starts to cry and mentioning that he should be in prison but Albert is watchful.
After a few repetitions of this episode of pure despair and sadness for the agent, Albert begins to lose hope and asks:
-What if this is one of your multiple personalities that it is only developing right now and has some obscure ideas.
Vincent shrugs, he is completely sweaty and tired.
The 10th victim is a child this time, the poor Matthew was lost and his mother is now devastated and blaming herself for everything that happened during that cold night in November.
I look at my reflection in the mirror and now I'm sure of who I am. I am a monster with three heads: one for the day, one for the night and one to use whenever and however I want.
Chicago is unrecognizable. People are way too afraid to leave their houses, restaurants are closing because they have no clients and life in society is lost.
Everything could have had continued in the same way had the monster not had too many heads for just one body. The culprit is caught red-handed by multiple security cameras.
And you ask yourself, who is the serial killer? And why would he leave a hint this time?
At some point, Vincent had to be hospitalized because the way he helped to solve the case was too difficult to deal with, especially in terms of health. Poor Vincent, right? He just wanted to proceed with his normal life, but he wasn't expecting us to see him in the wrong place at the wrong time with both of his eyes closed.
It's true that this monster had 3 heads, or should I say 3 personalities? The problem here was exactly the vain and confident way Vincent decided to wear his night head.
Well, Agent Vincent was seriously ill, and we discovered it in the most gruesome way. He had a murderous personality which ended up leading him to commit terrible crimes to random people who would cross his way while he was sleepwalking.
Matthew, the 10th victim, knew with only 13 years old that if he ran to a near supermarket it would all be recorded.