Can somebody please proofread and edit my short story for a class I am taking?? I am not fully finished with it so that is why it just cuts off When you spend years of your career focused on one case, you become that case. Waking up thinking about him, when you go to sleep dreaming about him... Until he has you right where he wants you. I have let him win. But I know I am smarter than him, I can over the feeling of failure. When I finally found where he has been hiding all these years, I wanted to kick myself in the butt. How could I not see this coming? He’s been staying in this rundown I guess you can call it a house out in the middle of the woods. Secluded from the city; after pulling up slowly, I pulled him out of his hideout feeling my blood pressure rise. Again he outsmarted me, he had no emotion on his face like he was undisturbed by the fact of being caught almost as if he knew it wouldn’t last long. The little smirk he had on his face made me want to shoot him right here. But I knew that’s what he wanted, and I wanted to destroy his life as he has done to so many families. Tearing them apart and removing loved ones from their lives. I put him into the back of my patrol car and told him to stay put, like what I said was going to influence what he does or doesn’t do. I walked back to his sanctuary, which I could tell didn’t have electricity. Being at this place makes me sick to my stomach, the smell was unbearable. Burning my nose with the stench of rotting flesh. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a body hidden around here, but that was not what I was here for. I was here for one reason and one reason only. To lock him away forever. I walked into what you might call the living room and see that this is a one-room “house” with a couch in the middle of the room looking at the wall. But as I walked around to the other side of the couch, I saw an air vent big enough to crawl through, but the vent cover wasn’t covered at all. I bent down to look through, I could see that there was something at the end. But it was too far for me to see from where I stood. I took one last gaze over my shoulder back out to the car where I left him to sit, but he was staring right at me. He knew I found his secret crawl space, it almost felt like he left it open on purpose hoping I would come across it. I know he is smarter than to leave something like this open if he didn’t want to find it, therefore, he did. Thinking to myself I knew it would be a mistake to go through this space and leave him up here unattended. But at this point curiosity was getting the best of me, I wanted to know what was at the end of this tunnel. I got down on my knees and crawled through, not knowing what I would find on the other side. Moving on all fours through this vent I could see that at the end it was going to open up maybe enough for me to stand. It blew away me by what I was looking at. A tiny room covered in newspaper clippings stuck to the walls, they were all about him, “The Movie Night Massacre Strikes again leaving the city in fear…” He was feeding off of the attention and “fame” he was getting. The Movie Night Massacre as they called him wanted people to know about the horrifying disturbance he has put these families through. Giving him a name was the icing on the cake. He is called The Movie Night Massacre well because that is how he killed his victims. Thinking back I can still remember when I first responded to one of his calls. I and my partner Josh showed up at the scene that scared me to death. It took place at a family vacation home in the outskirts of the town obviously owed by a wealthier family. One daughter age of 7, two sons ages 11 and 4, with the two parents around the ages of 29 and 32. Their living area was covered with blood, the bodies were almost set up in a specific way sitting like they were about to watch a movie. The kids had blankets covering their laps, and the parents were holding a bowl of popcorn. Just looking at the scene, it looked like a normal night but as you stepped closer, you could see the long slits running down their arms. Pouring out blood. Each time the sence got worse with the violence, he enjoyed what he was doing to them.