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

After my revealing encounter at the Little Sunshine Daycare Center, I waste no time in convening an urgent meeting with Seo and our investigative team. The conference room is tense as I lay out my suspicions about Jae-hoon, the son of the daycare's owner, Mrs. Hong. Initially, there's palpable skepticism in the room.

Detective Kim, always the devil's advocate, points out the risks of targeting someone so closely connected to a pillar of the community. However, as I meticulously detail my observations and the troubling coincidences, even the most doubtful team members begin to nod in agreement.

Seo, his face etched with concern, finally breaks the silence. "This is delicate," he says, his voice low and determined. "But if there's even a chance you're right, we can't ignore it. We'll investigate Jae-hoon, but with the utmost discretion. One false move, and we could lose everything."

With Seo's green light, we launch into a comprehensive background check on Jae-hoon. Our tech analyst dives deep into his digital footprint, while I coordinate with university officials to obtain his academic records. What emerges is a portrait of a young man of contradictions.

Jae-hoon's university transcripts reveal a brilliant mind – he's consistently at the top of his class in the engineering department, with a particular excellence in structural design and mechanics. This specialized knowledge aligns disturbingly well with the sophisticated rooftop network we've discovered.

Further investigation uncovers Jae-hoon's part-time employment at "Athlete's Paradise," a local sporting goods store. This seemingly innocuous job takes on a sinister cast when we realize it gives him access to a wide range of athletic shoes – including the exact brand and model that left prints at our crime scenes.

I personally visit the store under the guise of a customer, noting the extensive inventory and the relative ease with which an employee could misappropriate items.

Our next step is to meticulously reconstruct Jae-hoon's movements over the past six months, corresponding to the timeline of the abductions and murders. This proves to be a Herculean task, involving countless hours poring over grainy CCTV footage from across the city. We focus particularly on the areas surrounding each abduction site and the victims' last known locations.

The breakthrough comes after three sleepless nights. Officer Lee, bleary-eyed but triumphant, calls us all to his workstation. On his screen, we watch as a figure – tall, lean, with a distinctive gait that matches Jae-hoon's – appears in the periphery of multiple camera feeds. The timestamps align chillingly with our case timeline.

In each instance, the figure lingers just out of clear view, but there's no mistaking the deliberate nature of his movements.

Armed with this mounting evidence, we secure a warrant to search Jae-hoon's dormitory room. The initial sweep reveals nothing out of the ordinary – just the typical clutter of a university student. But as we're about to leave, Detective Seo's keen eye notices a slight unevenness in the floorboards near the bed. With bated breath, we pry up the loose board.

But the most damning piece of evidence is a worn, leather-bound notebook. As we carefully flip through its pages, our worst fears are confirmed. Detailed schematics of the rooftop network sprawl across multiple pages, annotated with calculations and modifications.

More chilling are the lists – names, addresses, and routines of children from the area, including our victims, with certain names crossed out and others circled.

Just as we're processing this grim discovery, a new lead emerges from an unexpected source. Mr. Jang, the elderly janitor from Little Sunshine Daycare, requests a private meeting. In my office, the old man fidgets nervously, his weathered hands twisting his cap as he struggles to meet my eyes.

"I... I should have said something sooner," he begins, his voice quavering. "But I was scared. And I've known Mrs. Hong for so long..."

With gentle coaxing, Mr. Jang's story spills out. Over the past year, he's noticed Jae-hoon accessing the daycare's roof multiple times, often late at night when the center is closed. He describes seeing Jae-hoon carrying tools and materials, and hearing strange noises from above. Mr. Jang admits to keeping quiet out of a mixture of fear and misplaced loyalty to Mrs.

Hong, but the recent news has weighed heavily on his conscience.

The morning sun has barely crested the horizon when our team assembles outside Little Sunshine Daycare Center. The usually cheerful building looms ominously in the early light. Detective Seo gives us all a final, stern look.

"Remember, we move quickly and quietly. No room for error," he says, his voice low but firm.

With a nod, we approach the entrance. The center has just opened, and we can hear the muffled sounds of children arriving inside. I take a deep breath and push the door open.

The reception area falls silent as we enter, our badges clearly visible. Mrs. Hong, who has been chatting with a parent, freezes mid-sentence.

"What's going on?" she asks, her eyes widening with alarm.

Before I can respond, Jae-hoon emerges from a back room, carrying a box of toys. He stops abruptly, his gaze darting between us and his mother.

"Kim Jae-hoon," I say, my voice steady despite the hammering of my heart, "you're under arrest for the abduction and murder of multiple children. You have the right to remain silent..."

The room erupts into chaos. The box crashes to the floor as Jae-hoon stumbles backward, his face a mask of shock and fear. Mrs. Hong lets out a strangled cry, rushing to place herself between her son and our team.

"This is ridiculous!" she shouts, her voice trembling with anger and disbelief. "My Jae-hoon would never... He's a good boy! A kind boy!"

As my colleagues move to secure Jae-hoon, other staff members begin to gather, drawn by the commotion. Miss Lee, one of the teachers, pushes forward, her face flushed with indignation.

"You can't do this!" she protests. "Jae-hoon volunteers here. He reads to the children. He helps with their art projects. He's gentle and patient. This must be some horrible mistake!"

The janitor, Mr. Jang, stands silently in a corner, his face a mixture of guilt and relief. Our eyes meet briefly, and he gives a small, sad nod.

As we begin to lead Jae-hoon out, he suddenly speaks, his voice eerily calm amidst the uproar. "Mom, it's okay. Don't worry. This is all a misunderstanding. I'll be home soon."

His words send a chill down my spine. Even now, he is playing a role, maintaining his facade of innocence.

Parents who have arrived with their children stand shocked, pulling their kids close. Some are already on their phones, no doubt spreading the news.

As we escort Jae-hoon to the waiting police car, Mrs. Hong's anguished cries follow us. "My son is innocent! You're making a terrible mistake! He's a top student, a good boy!"

I turn back for a moment, catching a glimpse of the staff comforting Mrs. Hong, their faces a mixture of confusion, anger, and dawning fear. In that instant, I see the realization beginning to creep into their eyes – the slow, horrible understanding that the monster they've been fearing has been among them all along, wearing the face of someone they thought they knew.

As we pull away from the daycare center, the cacophony of protests fades into an eerie silence. I'm seated in the front passenger seat. Jae-hoon sits quietly in the back, flanked by two officers.

The city slides by outside the windows, but my focus is entirely on our suspect. Through the rearview mirror, I study Jae-hoon's face. His expression is blank, almost serene, a stark contrast to the chaos we've just left behind.

Suddenly, as we pass through a patch of dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, I see it. It's subtle, so subtle that I might have missed it if I weren't watching so intently. A smile. Not the nervous smile of an innocent man wrongly accused, nor the relieved smile of someone who believes this misunderstanding will soon be cleared up.

No, this is something else entirely. It's a smile I've seen before, in crime scene photos and in my nightmares. It's the smile of a predator, of someone who delights in the pain and fear of others. It's the smile of a killer.

The realization hits me like a physical blow. In that moment, all my doubts evaporate. This is no longer about evidence or suspicion. I know, with bone-deep certainty, that we have our man.

The smile is gone as quickly as it appeared, like a mask slipping back into place. But I can't unsee it. I glance at Seo, wondering if he noticed, but his eyes are fixed on the road ahead.

I turn back to look at Jae-hoon directly. His eyes meet mine, and for a split second, I see something flicker in their depths. It's as if he knows that I've seen behind his facade, that I've glimpsed the monster lurking beneath the surface.

The rest of the ride passes in tense silence. As we approach the station, I steel myself for what's to come. The fight ahead will be challenging – Jae-hoon is clearly skilled at maintaining his innocent appearance. But now I've seen the truth, and I'm more determined than ever to make sure justice is served.

As we pull into the station's parking lot, suddenly, unbidden and unwelcome, a familiar voice echoes in my mind. It is Manson.

"That smile, detective. Beautiful, wasn't it? Pure and honest in a way most people never are. You saw it, didn't you? The real face behind the mask," he whispers.

I clench my jaw, refusing to acknowledge the voice. But Manson continues, his tone dripping with dark amusement.

"Oh, don't be shy now. It's a gift, you know. Being able to spot that look. Most people, they go their whole lives never seeing the truth. But you? You're special.

You can see the darkness in others because it calls to the darkness in you."

"Shut up," I mutter under my breath, earning a concerned glance from Seo.

Manson's laughter echoes in my mind. "Don't fight it, detective. Embrace it. That's how you'll catch him, you know. Set a monster to catch a monster."

As we escort Jae-hoon from the car, Manson's voice fades, leaving behind a final, chilling thought:

"Welcome to the other side of the looking glass, detective. Things are so much clearer from here, aren't they?"