Sgt. Alvaro Morales sat in the dimly lit conference room of the Bantayan Police Station, his fingers drumming against the table. The case files in front of him were a gruesome puzzle with too many missing pieces. Two victims, each bound and displayed in a manner that felt less like murder and more like a twisted performance. The brutality was undeniable, but what unsettled him most was the precision there was no chaos, no hesitation. This was not the work of an amateur.
His team had exhausted every lead, but they were chasing a ghost. No fingerprints. No eyewitnesses. No pattern to the victims except the way they were killed.
Ritualistic. Methodical. Purposeful.
They needed help.
So, they called in an expert.
Dr. Ma. Jessie Quibot stepped into the station, her dark eyes sweeping the room as she took in the weary faces of the officers. She was a petite woman in her mid forties, deceptively gentle in appearance, but her mind was a blade honed by years of dissecting the psychology of killers.
"Doctor," Sgt. Morales greeted, standing to shake her hand.
She met his grip firmly.
"Let's get to work.
Tell me everything."
They gathered in the conference room, where crime scene photos were pinned to the board each more chilling than the last. The victims' bodies had been posed deliberately, as if the killer was telling a story only he understood. Dr. Quibot studied the images in silence, her fingers lightly tapping against the table as she pieced together the narrative of the unseen murderer.
Finally, she spoke.
"From the ritualistic nature of the crimes, we are dealing with a highly intelligent and organized individual. He's not just killing he's orchestrating something. He is likely male, between the ages of 25 and 40, standing around 5'8" to 5'10", weighing 68 to 80 kilograms"
Sgt. Morales frowned.
"How can you tell?"
Dr. Quibot's voice was steady, analytical. "The way the victims were restrained suggests a level of physical strength, but not excessive brute force. He doesn't overpower them with raw strength he subdues them efficiently, methodically. That suggests an understanding of human anatomy, possibly a background in medicine or butchery."
She leaned forward, her tone sharpening. "The ligature marks on the neck indicate a controlled strangulation, not a panicked killing. He knew exactly how long he could tighten the grip before unconsciousness set in. But what's more disturbing is the deep wound on the left shoulder of each victim. It's deliberate, not frenzied.
Bloodletting."
Sgt. Morales's jaw tightened.
"So, he drained them?"
Dr. Quibot nodded. "Minimal blood pooling in the veins suggests that the victims were inverted while they were still alive. Gravity did the rest."
The room fell silent.
Sgt. Morales broke the heavy silence.
"What kind of person would do this?"
Dr. Quibot's expression darkened.
"A psychopath. But not the reckless kind. This man is highly intelligent, capable of long term planning, and completely devoid of empathy. He doesn't kill in the heat of the moment. He does it because he enjoys it. Because it gives him power."
She flipped through her notes. "Psychopathy has genetic components, but environment is a stronger factor. He likely comes from a somehow broken home possibly an narcissistic abusive and dominating father and perhaps with a submissive or a neglectful mother. Studies show that extreme childhood trauma, particularly emotional deprivation, can warp the development of the prefrontal cortex the part of the brain responsible for impulse control and empathy."
Sgt. Morales exhaled sharply.
"So, he's been like this for a long time.?"
"Yes," Dr. Quibot confirmed.
"He didn't wake up one day and decide to kill. He evolved into this. His early years were likely filled with cruelty possibly starting with animals before he moved on to people. And now, he's refining his methods."
Sgt. Morales rubbed his temples.
"What about his current situation?
His job, his daily life?"
Dr. Quibot's eyes narrowed. "He's might be wealthy, or came from a well off family
He may have a job that doesn't require strict hours, or he could be unemployed, giving him the time to stalk and plan. But one thing is certain he blends in. He looks ordinary.
That's how he avoids suspicion."
She let that thought sink in.
Sgt. Morales voice was low.
"What's going on inside his head?"
Dr. Quibot tapped her pen against the table. "His mind is like a loaded gun. His DNA is the trigger, his childhood trauma is the aim, and his emotional numbness is the finger that pulls it."
She took a slow breath.
"And the scariest part? He won't stop on his own.
He needs to be stopped."
Sgt. Morales met her gaze, his expression unreadable.
"Then we better catch him before he kills again."