[For the *Your* Story Challenge I picked to write about the TV show/book "Dexter"/ "Darkly Dreaming Dexter". Virtual cookies for whoever manages to read the whole thing...]
The breeze had went to sleep outside, calmly breathing inside its icy blue shell. The light seemed to be frozen, shining from within its luminous flow. Morning or night, sunshine or darkness... it did not matter. It was snowing outside...
The watch on the table read "3AM" when I stood from my desk chair and pushed away the files. The small window was of no use, it was completely dark and didn't leave a clue as to how cold it was outside. Snow in Miami... What a joke...
Several quiet footsteps were heard just outside my office. I immediately knew who it was from the silent style of walking.
"Your shift is over, Miss Laias" the visitor said while closing the door behind him "... and here are the papers you wanted..."
The man was an old company colleague that, within only a couple of days, was able to get his hands on classified and sometimes illegal information. I was excited that he had brought me what I requested and swiped the papers from his hands immediately. I wasn't worried about him stabbing me in the back however, after all, I could burn him back by revealing to the entire station that he was a hacker in his spare time...
My Little Friend nodded quickly and, seeing that I was pleased, decided to call it a night and head home. But I wasn't about to let my head get infested by a silly night's sleep, no... I had more important plans. If the papers would prove to be helpful as I hoped, then I would have a prey to hunt down...
I was looking for someone, a very special person that had peaked my interest for some time. But I didn't know the details, I didn't know if this person I was searching for even existed... My mind was tortured by chaos. No, I needed to focus... I turned to the papers.
The files flew open on my desk, each of them containing pain-staking details I didn't need. On them were records of serial killers, mafia bosses, murderers, anyone ever suspected of the recent killings in Miami. I was sure half of the papers would prove worthless, but it was a lead nonetheless.
The desk lamp flickered noisily, as if disturbed from its long slumber. Though it was February and I was in Miami, the cold outside couldn't be ignored. Even the little lamp snickered over the falling of this unbelievable snow.
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