A Thrill of Hope

Summary: AU-Modern Day POTO fic. A gruesome murderer is running loose, killing young college girls and then dumping their mutilated bodies. Erik Garner--an outcast determined to defeat other demons if it means he doesn't have to face his own--works on his own to track down the killer, refusing the assistance of the police he had aided long ago. A victim of a horrific childhood and hard life, Erik has trained himself to lock people out and never let his emotions show. But when a new student--Christine Daae--comes along, he finds his barriers struggling to stay up. And even as he finds himself falling in love with the young singer, the murderer sets his sights on Christine as the next victim...

Author's Notes: Yeah...came to me while reading "The Lovely Bones" and listening to the soundtrack...I thought..."Hmmm...what if he was a guy on the hunt for a gruesome killer and Christine became a target..." So...yeah...I have no idea if this will turn out well at all...it just sounded fun...

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own any of POTO characters. But I do own whatever minor characters appear, including the killer.

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Prologue

"She Hated Mondays"

She hated Mondays.

Ariel Young's morning had started like all the others: her alarm didn't go off, she misplaced her Art History notes, she could only find one shoe. She had walked into Physics class ten minutes late and was ridiculed by Professor Fauley. Her lunch card had been stolen and to top it all off, she had been dumped.

She really hated Mondays.

Adjusting the backpack on her shoulder, Ariel kept her eyes on the ground, following each step she took. All she wanted was to go home and sleep.

"Excuse me, miss?"

She whirled around at the voice and looked at the man it belonged to. He smiled welcomely.

"I believe you dropped this," He held out a spiral notebook and Ariel's heart nearly stopped. My history notes! She reached out and took it gratefully.

"Thank you," she said, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "I'd be so dead if I lost them." She frowned slightly as she saw a strange emotion flicker in his eyes, but just as quickly as it had appeared it was gone. That's weird.

"It happens," the man said. He smiled again and extended his hand. "Where are my manners? I'm Joel. Joel Marks." Ariel stared at his hand a moment before shaking it.

"Ariel Young," she replied.

"I know." She frowned. "It was on your notebook."

Ariel smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Right...old habit." She shifted on her feet as she felt his gaze sweep over her body. She was used to men staring at her. Ariel had been overdeveloped since she was 12. It wasn't long before the boys took an interest in her. She was 14 when she had first slept with a man--a senior in high school. It had been an uncomfortable experience and she hadn't even desired to repeat it. But that one night years ago wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as she felt now. She avoided his gaze and cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence.

"Hey, can I buy you a cup of coffee or something," he asked suddenly. Ariel hesitated, unsure of whether or not to trust the man who smiled so trustingly. "Come on...it could be your thank you to me." He grinned. "It's just a cup of coffee. Won't kill ya."

Ariel waited a moment before sighing. It IS just coffee..., she thought. I mean, how much worse can this day get? Smiling, she nodded and took the arm he extended.

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She had hated Mondays.

That what Ariel Young's roommate had told him. Detective Richard Firmin turned his head from the brutal crime scene and once more looked at the picture in his hand. Here, the beautiful brunette smiled up at him shyly from beneath lowered lashes, her green eyes mesmorizing. As the coroner carried yet another body bag of the girl's remains past him, he tried to keep the picture's image in his mind instead of what he now saw.

What remained of Ariel Young has been identified and the truth of what had happened to her was finally revealed:

The young college student had been raped and murdered, her body mutilated and disposed of in an empty field...Just like the others, he thought. Det. Firmin sighed and placed the photo back in his pocket.

She had hated Mondays...and a Monday was the last day she had ever seen.