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

"You are right. The shape," I say, my eyes snapping open. "It was curved, almost like... like the inside of a freezer as you said."

Bundy chuckles, his presence in my mind like a cold caress. "Very good. You're starting to put the pieces together. That mark, it's the kind of thing that only happens when a soft object is pressed against a hard surface for an extended period of time."

I feel a chill run down my spine, the implications of Bundy's words sinking in. "So you're saying... the body was stored in a freezer? After the murder, before it was dismembered and dumped?"

"It's a strong possibility. The killer might have been worried about the body decomposing or thought it would be easier to chop up the body," Bundy says, his voice rich with dark knowledge. "Think about it, Park. Each freezer has a unique shape, a specific contour to its interior.

When you press something soft, like human flesh, against that surface, it leaves a mark when it gets frozen, taking on the shape of the surface."

I swallow hard, my mind racing with the possibilities. "So if we can identify the specific maker and model of the freezer that left that mark..."

"Then you'll be one step closer to identifying the killer," Bundy finishes, his words dripping with a twisted sort of pride. "It's a rare clue. A glimpse into the mind and methods of the person responsible for this atrocity."

"A child's body," I murmur, my voice heavy with emotion. "It's so small, so vulnerable. To think that someone could do something so heinous, so cruel..."

Bundy's voice slithers into my thoughts, his tone equal parts amused and contemplative. "But that's the key, isn't it? The size of the body. If it was stored in a freezer, as the mark suggests, then we're looking for a very specific type of appliance."

I nod, my mind already racing with the possibilities. "A freezer large enough to hold a child's body... it would have to be a substantial size. Not your standard kitchen model."

"Exactly," Bundy says, his words dripping with a twisted sort of excitement. "We're talking about a commercial-grade freezer, the kind you'd find in a restaurant or a large-scale operation. Something with ample space and a powerful cooling system."

I feel a chill run down my spine, the image of Soo-yeon's lifeless body crammed into a cold, unforgiving space filling my mind. "We need to share this information with the team," I say, my voice filled with a newfound urgency. "It could be the key to narrowing down our list of suspects."

Bundy's laughter fills my mind, a sound that sends a shiver of revulsion through my body. "Oh, you're going to share this with the team? The same team that just mocked you and dismissed you like a common rookie?"

I feel a flush of embarrassment and frustration wash over me, but I push it aside. "This isn't about my ego, Bundy. It's about solving the case and bringing Soo-yeon's killer to justice. If that means facing a little ridicule or disrespect, then so be it."

Bundy sighs, his presence in my mind like a suffocating weight. "You're so naive, Park. But fine, go ahead. Share your little theory with the team. See how far it gets you."

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my resolve hardening like steel. "I will," I say, my voice steady and clear.

I arrive back at the scene, my heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. The investigation is still in full swing, with officers combing through the area and forensic teams meticulously documenting every shred of evidence.

Amidst the chaos, I spot Inspector Kim, his presence commanding and authoritative as he directs the flow of the investigation. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation ahead, and make my way towards him.

As I approach, Inspector Kim notices me, his eyebrows raising in a mix of recognition and curiosity. "Officer Park," he says, "What can I do for you?"

I clear my throat, my voice steady and determined. "Inspector Kim, I have some information that I think could be crucial to the investigation. It's about the mark on the body, the one that resembles the inside of a freezer."

Inspector Kim nods, but his attention seems divided, his eyes darting to the other officers and the ongoing work around us. "Go on," he says, his voice distracted.

I press forward, undeterred by his lack of focus. "I believe that the mark suggests that the body was stored in a freezer before being dismembered and dumped. And not just any freezer, but a commercial-grade model, large enough to accommodate a child's body."

As I speak, I can see Inspector Kim's attention drifting, his gaze drawn to the conversations and activity swirling around us. But I persist, my voice growing more urgent and insistent with each passing moment.

"This could be a key piece of evidence," I say, my words tumbling out in a rush. "It could help us narrow down our list of suspects, focus our search on individuals with access to large-scale refrigeration units."

Just as I'm about to delve into more detail, I feel a hand on my shoulder, firm and insistent. I turn to see my senior, Detective Kwon, his face etched with a mix of annoyance and concern.

"Officer Park," he says, his voice low and tense. "What are you still doing here? You can't just barge in and start spouting off theories to the inspector. This is their investigation now, not ours."

I feel a flush of frustration and embarrassment wash over me, but I hold my ground. "Sir, I understand that, but this information could be vital. I can't just sit back and watch when I know something that could help crack the case."

Kwon sighs, his grip on my shoulder tightening. "I appreciate your dedication, Park, but you need to know your place. Inspector Kim and his team are more than capable of handling this investigation. The best thing you can do right now is head back to the station and focus on your own duties."

I open my mouth to protest, but the look in Kwon's eyes stops me cold. It's a look of warning, of barely contained anger and frustration. I know that if I push any further, I risk more than just a reprimand.

With a heavy heart and a sense of bitter defeat, I nod, my shoulders slumping. "Yes, sir," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."

As I turn to leave, I catch a glimpse of Inspector Kim watching me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I wonder if he heard anything I said, if my words made any impact at all. But then he turns away, his attention drawn back to the ongoing investigation, and I know that my moment has passed.

With a sense of frustration and helplessness burning in my gut, I make my way back to the car, my mind reeling with the knowledge that I've been shut out, dismissed, and relegated to the sidelines once again.

As I sit in my car, my mind still reeling from the dismissive treatment I received at the crime scene, Bundy's voice reemerges, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction.

"I told you so, Park," he sneers, his words echoing in my mind. "Did you really think they'd listen to you? A lowly officer with no real authority or credentials?"

I feel a surge of anger and frustration boil up inside me, and before I can stop myself, I'm yelling at the empty air. "Shut up, Bundy! Just shut up! I don't need your mockery, not now, not ever."

But Bundy just laughs, his voice filled with a twisted sort of amusement.

I open my mouth to argue, to tell Bundy exactly where he can shove his cynical worldview, but before I can speak, the sound of the car radio catches my attention.

It's a press briefing, and the voice that fills the airwaves is none other than Inspector Kim himself.

I turn up the volume, my heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread.