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

I grip his arm, my fingers digging into the fabric of his suit jacket. The weight of the moment presses down on us both. "I\'ll do my best to keep him on the line as long as possible," I say, emphasizing each word. "Every second counts. We can\'t let this chance slip away."

"Understood," Han says, his expression grim but determined.

As I re-enter the studio, the atmosphere hits me like a physical force. The air is charged, electric with tension. The usual bustle of a TV studio has been replaced by an eerie stillness, as if everyone is holding their breath. Technicians huddle over their equipment, their faces bathed in the blue glow of screens.

The anchor, Kim Soo-jin, sits ramrod straight in her chair, her perfectly manicured hands clasped tightly on the desk. As she turns to the camera, I can see a mix of nervous energy and professional excitement in her eyes.

"We\'re back," she says, her voice steady despite the circumstances, "and we have an unexpected development. We\'ve received a call from someone claiming to be Shin Ho-chul. We\'re now connecting this caller to Detective Park."

There\'s a moment of silence, heavy with anticipation. Then a click echoes through the studio, followed by a voice that sends a chill down my spine. It\'s low and slightly raspy, with an edge of anger barely contained beneath a veneer of control.

"Hello, Detective," the voice says, dripping with disdain. "I hear you\'ve been talking about me. Sharing my personal business with the world. How very... unprofessional of you."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. I\'m acutely aware of the millions of viewers watching, of Han and his team listening intently, of everything riding on this conversation. When I speak, my voice is steady, betraying none of the turmoil I feel inside. "Before we continue, how can we be sure you are who you claim to be? We need to verify your identity."

There\'s a harsh laugh on the other end of the line, a sound devoid of any real mirth. "You want proof? Fine. I\'ll play your little game, Detective. Your first victim, Shim Ju-hee - she had a small tattoo of a butterfly on her left ankle. Delicate little thing, really.

Your second, Ji Su-yeon - she was wearing a silver necklace with a heart-shaped locket. It had a picture of her mother inside. Should I go on? Maybe describe the fear in their eyes when they realized what was happening?"

These details were never released to the public. Only the killer would know such specific information. I turn to the anchor, nodding solemnly. My voice is grave as I speak. "Ms. Kim, I can confirm that this caller appears to be Shin Ho-chul."

The anchor\'s eyes widen, a fleeting look of fear crossing her face before her professional mask slips back into place. She swallows hard before speaking. "Mr. Shin, why have you decided to call in today? What message do you want to convey to our viewers?"

"I\'m not here to talk to you," Shin snaps, his voice sharp with irritation. "I\'m not here for your ratings or your sensationalism. I\'m here to set the record straight with the detective who thinks he knows me so well. The one who\'s been spreading lies about my past, my motivations."

I lean in towards the microphone, my heart racing but my voice carefully controlled. Every fiber of my being is focused on this moment, on keeping Shin engaged. "I\'m listening, Shin. What would you like to say? What part of my analysis do you disagree with?"

Shin\'s voice crackles through the speakers, dripping with venom. "You think you know me, Detective? You\'ve been pretending you understand everything, but you\'re completely wrong. That\'s why I called in - to teach you a lesson and show the world just how stupid the police really are."

The anger in Shin\'s voice is palpable, rising with each word. "And bringing my father onto your little show? Making him look like some regretful old man who misses his son? That\'s what really pissed me off."

I glance at the news anchor, Kim Soo-jin. Her eyes are wide, a bead of sweat forming on her brow as she listens to Shin\'s tirade. Her hands tremble slightly as she grips her pen, but she remains silent, letting the exchange unfold.

Despite the intensity of Shin\'s words, I maintain my composure. My breathing remains steady, my expression neutral. Years of training and experience have prepared me for moments like this.

Shin continues, his voice rising. "You don\'t know anything about my father, about my childhood. You\'re just making up stories to fit your neat little narrative."

As Shin rants, I hear a soft voice in my earpiece. It\'s Han. "We\'ve got a location. Officers are en route. Keep him talking."

A slight smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. I lean towards the microphone, my voice calm and measured. "I understand your anger, Shin. I can hear the pain in your voice. But don\'t you think it\'s time to stop? At the end of the day, you\'ve got a father who misses you.

Who wants to make amends."

I can almost hear Shin\'s teeth grinding through the phone line. "You understand nothing," he spits. "My father-"

I cut him off gently. "Your father is reaching out to you, Shin. After all these years, he still cares. Isn\'t that worth something?"

As I speak, I\'m acutely aware of the seconds ticking by. Each moment brings the officers closer to Shin\'s location. I just need to keep him on the line a little longer.

"Tell me, Shin," I continue, my voice soft but probing, "what do you think your mother would say if she could see you now?"

The silence that follows is deafening. I\'ve struck a nerve, and I know it. Now, we wait to see how Shin responds, and hope that it buys enough time for the officers to reach him.

Shin\'s voice explodes through the speakers, raw with fury. "Don\'t you dare talk about my mother!" he roars, causing the studio technicians to wince and adjust their equipment. "You don\'t have the right to even mention her!"

The anchor, Kim Soo-jin, flinches visibly at the outburst, her professional demeanor cracking slightly. But I remain steady, my eyes focused, listening intently.

Shin continues, his words tumbling out in a torrent of rage. "You\'ve got it all wrong, Detective. And now you\'ve broadcast your stupidity to the whole world. I\'m not doing this because of my mother. I\'m doing this to get revenge on my father!"

I lean in slightly, my interest piqued. This is new information, a deviation from our profile.

"My father," Shin spits the word like it\'s poison, "he\'s the one who destroyed everything. He abused us - me and my mother. Do you have any idea what that does to a family? To a child?"

His voice cracks slightly, a hint of old pain seeping through the anger. "I\'ve been living with this anger, this sorrow for losing my mother, for years. And now, I\'ve finally made up my mind to act on it. I\'m going to destroy him, shame him in front of everyone."

Shin\'s voice rises to a shout again. "So stop spouting your bullshit about my motivations! It\'s not my mother I\'m trying to get revenge on - it\'s my father!"

As Shin\'s tirade continues, I hear Han\'s voice in my earpiece again. "Officers are approaching a small motel. We believe Shin is inside, making the call from there."

I nod slightly, acknowledging the information without speaking. My focus remains on Shin, on keeping him engaged and talking.

"I see, Shin," I say, my voice calm in contrast to his fury. "Thank you for clarifying that. It seems we did misunderstand your motivations. Can you tell me more about why you chose this particular way to get revenge on your father?"

As Shin begins to speak again, his voice dripping with venom, there\'s a sudden commotion on the other end of the line. The sound of splintering wood and shouts of "Police! Don\'t move!" erupt through the speakers.

"What the—" Shin\'s voice is cut off mid-sentence. There\'s a loud crash, followed by the sounds of a struggle.

"No! Get off me!" Shin yells, his voice now distant from the phone. "You can\'t do this! I\'m not finished!"

The sounds of the arrest continue to broadcast live - the jingle of handcuffs, the stern voices of officers reading Shin his rights, and Shin\'s own stream of curses and protests.

"This isn\'t over!" Shin screams, his voice growing fainter as he\'s presumably led away. "You hear me, Detective? This isn\'t over!"

In the studio, the anchor, Kim Soo-jin, sits frozen, her eyes wide with shock. Her mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. The entire studio is silent, save for the ongoing commotion from the phone line.

I turn to Kim, my voice gentle but firm. "Ms. Kim, I think it would be best if we wrapped up the program now."

My words seem to snap her out of her daze. She blinks rapidly, then nods. "Y-yes, of course," she stammers, then turns to face the camera. Her professionalism kicks in, though her voice trembles slightly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we\'ve just witnessed the live arrest of Shin Ho-chul, the suspect in the recent series of attacks. We\'ll bring you more information as it becomes available. For now, we\'re ending our broadcast. This is Kim Soo-jin, signing off."

The red light on the camera blinks off, and the studio erupts into a flurry of activity. But amidst the chaos, I sit still for a moment, processing what has just transpired. It\'s over, but I know the real work is just beginning.