Do You Want To Play: A Detroit Police Procedural Romance by Charlotte Raine Page A

have realized, the PVP killer stages his murders like video game deaths. Everyone is enraptured by his movements, so it’s the perfect way to make a commentary on society’s decline. Society has turned into a game where everyone is keeping score and the only way to show complete dominance is murder. Everyone judges the PVP killer’s actions while not realizing that it has become the norm. Everyone is a sinner and everyone pretends it doesn’t matter—like their lives are on a TV screen. Killing may not be the way to get everyone to change, but it’s the quickest way to get people to realize that they are slaves to a system that treats them like they have five lives.
    The PVP killer is a prophet and he’s only spreading the truth. You’re in a dog-eat-dog, player-versus-player world. Do you know who is going to win this game? I can tell you that it’s not the police, because they are too busy being concerned about the politics of society. The police will never catch him because he does not follow any set of rules. For these reasons, I am stepping down as a detective in the Detroit police department. I can no longer stand by the law when they clearly are walking around deaf, dumb, and blind to the truth.
     
    ~~~~~
     
    After the article is put in The Detroit News , my life becomes a freak show, with the public watching my every step and waiting to see how badly I stumble. National news stations have berated me for my ignorance and described me as psychotic as the killer. I had called my grandmother to reassure her beforehand that what was going to be in the news was false, but other than her, the Detroit police force and the FBI, nobody else knows that the article was written to trick the killer.
    A day and a half after the article was printed, there is a large mob outside my apartment. My landlord wants to kill me himself for causing so much chaos outside his building. I spend all day reading through our notes about the case and drinking tea to calm my nerves.
    I hear a police siren. I look out the window to see a police car make its way through the mob. I see Tobias and an FBI agent get out of the car.
    When they knock on my door, I let them in. Tobias has dark shadows under his eyes.
    “What’s going on?” I ask.
    “The public is demanding blood,” Tobias says. “Your blood to be exact. I told you this was a bad idea.”
    “You know that nothing will make the killer come out of the dark faster,” I say.
    “It was a stupid, reckless move that only a rookie would make. That’s why the FBI pushed you into it,” he says.
    “They didn’t push me into it,” I argue. “I volunteered.”
    “You’re the only female brunette in the station!” he snarls. “Who else would they be expecting to step up to the plate? They have probably been planning this for days.”
    I shove him. He stumbles back. There’s a flash of anger in his eyes that makes me believe for a second that he could hit me back, but he only stands up straight again.
    “Um, I’m going to set up taps on the phones, in case the killer calls,” the FBI agent says. “We have a van parked around the corner that will be able to locate him if he does call.”
    The agent scurries into the living room. Tobias’ eyes trail down to my hands, which are red from the so many times I’ve twisted them in being anxious.
    “You need to come into the station,” he says. “It will only be for a short amount of time, but we need to make it look like the police are investigating you.”
    “For what?” I ask.
    “Being an accomplice to the killer,” he says. I am struggling between wanting to burst into laughter or cry, but I just chew my lip.
    “I’m supposed to wait for the killer to come or contact me,” I say. “The FBI is keeping watch to make sure that he doesn’t do anything.”
    “Well, if you don’t come with us, you’re risking having more protestors outside your apartment,” he says. “And they will not be peaceful protestors. I’ve