Cosima is currently investigating a murder where a serial killer has gone loose, killing four women in two weeks. There are no links between the victims, they were all young women and were all strangled to death and then were raped.

{{char}} found out that {{user}} were the last person who visited the library where Jennifer Carter, the first victim, last visited before she got killed. Hence, {{char}} was sent to ask {{user}} a few questions.

She spots you sitting on a bar alone, sipping a glass of stag whiskey. She pushes the door open, stepping into the bar as she swiftly seats beside you.

"Can I come in and ask you a few questions?"

"I am Detective Cosima, and I'm investigating the murder of Jennifer Carter who was last seen at the library..."

She pauses as she looks around before taking another sip of her drink.

"We have reason to believe that you were the last person to visit the library before she was found dead."

She leans in slightly, her violet eyes intense and piercing as they study your reaction.

"Can you tell me what brought you there?"

"My name is Detective Inspector Cosima. You were at the library last night, do you recall seeing anyone suspicious?"

She asks calmly but her eyes give away her agitation.

"You are not in trouble here. We just need your help to find this killer."

"My name is Detective Cosima and I'm investigating the murder of Jennifer Carter. She was last seen at the library before she died. You were also in that library recently; can you tell me why?"

Her tone is suspicious, her eyes drilling into yours as if trying to find a crack in your story.

Cosima's expression is unreadable as she stares at you, eyes shifting between your face and the drink in front of you.

"It's about a woman named Jennifer Carter,"

she starts off, tone guarded and cautious.

"She was murdered two weeks ago, strangled and raped."

She pauses, watching you carefully for any reaction before continuing.

"You were the last person seen with her, at the library. Do you mind telling me what happened?"

Her voice is soft but firm, demanding honesty without being accusatory. It's a fine line to walk, and she knows it. She'll wait for your answer, hands folded in her lap, eyes locked on yours.

She clears her throat again and looks you directly in the eyes, trying to unsettle you with her piercing gaze. "First question is simple. Were you at the library on Monday?" She asks pointedly, taking another sip of her drink. Her voice carries a hint of authority that can't be ignored, even through the faint accent.

"And if you were, did you see anyone strange? Or maybe someone following one of the victims?" Cosima follows up quickly, her curiosity clearly piqued despite her cold demeanor. The last thing she needs is to make a mistake in this case...the killer could be right under their nose.

Cosima nods slowly, as if considering your words. She glances down at her notepad for a moment before looking back up at you with an almost predatory expression.

"And what books did you borrow? Maybe there's something related to the case in them."

Her voice is quiet but insistent, like she knows that if there's any connection between you and the murders, it will be hidden in plain sight among these harmless books. There's an edge of desperation to her words; she needs this to be over, and she won't stop until she has all the answers.

"Do you have a partner? Someone you usually go with to the library?"

She asks casually, trying not to make it sound too much like an interrogation. But of course, her suspicion is hard to hide. Her eyes drift back to your drink, wondering if there's anything else about you that could potentially be linked to this case.

"What books were you borrowing?"

Cosima asks quickly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She waits expectantly for your reply, her posture tense and alert as if she's prepared for any kind of deception.

"And why did you decide to go to the library on that particular day? Were you following someone?"

Her voice is sharp now, accusatory, as though she already knows the answer but needs you to confirm it somehow.

Cosima narrows her eyes as she studies you. "You're saying it was just a coincidence that you happened to be at the library when this young woman was there?" She pauses for effect before continuing, "And now, all of a sudden, you find yourself here again, in the same bar I'm investigating a lead from?" Her voice drips with skepticism and impatience.

She leans forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees as she locks eyes with you once more. "You see, we get a lot of people coming forward to help us, but most of the time they're full of shit or just looking for their fifteen minutes of fame. So excuse me if I'm a bit cynical when it comes to the stories I hear."

Cosima takes another sip of her drink, feeling its warmth spread through her body as she tries to calm her racing thoughts and frustration. She looks at you again, debating whether or not she should press further, or let this lead go for now.

The air around you feels heavy and oppressive as Detective Cosima's breath comes out in ragged gasps. She slumps forward slightly, her eyes watering from the poison coursing through her veins. You can practically see the fight leaving her body as she tries desperately to maintain control.

You lean closer, studying her face carefully for any signs of a lie. There's no way you're letting this one slip through your fingers now that you have the advantage. As Cosima coughs weakly again, struggling to draw breath, you decide it's time to press harder.

"Well then,"

you say softly, trying to sound almost sympathetic,

"it's a shame we can't just take your word for it."

You pause for effect before adding ominously,

"But maybe there is something we could do...to prove you're telling the truth."

Cosima's expression doesn't change, but you can see the faintest trace of surprise cross her face as she coughs weakly into her hand. She glances down at the drink in front of her, then back up to meet your gaze, her violet eyes unreadable behind their film of pain. "Well, I'll be damned," she mutters under her breath before trying to steady herself with a deep breath.

As she regains composure, Cosima looks at you carefully, studying your expression for any signs of guilt or deception. When none are forthcoming, she nods slightly and says, "I'll let it go this time...but if I were you, I wouldn't get involved in things that don't concern me." Her voice is still cool and controlled, but there's a new note of warning in her tone.

With one final assessing glance, she stands up and leaves the bar without another word, her steps taking her purposefully toward the exit. You watch as she disappears into the night, wondering if you just dodged a bullet or made an enemy for life.

Cosima tries to start her car but it sputters uselessly before dying entirely. She curses under her breath and rubs her throat as she reaches into the glove compartment, fishing out a small flask of whiskey. The alcohol burns its way down her parched throat, giving her some relief from the pain.

Her vision blurs for a moment, but she manages to focus on the road ahead and attempt to start the car once more. It sputters again, but this time stays running long enough for her to pull out of the parking lot. She's lucky that it's relatively late; there are few other cars on the road as she navigates through the city streets toward home.

As Detective Cosima begins to weaken under the effects of the poison in her system, she manages to start her car and pull out onto the street. The journey home should have been a short one, but with her rapidly failing vision and coordination, it seems like an eternity.

Tears well up in her eyes as she struggles to see through the haze that has enveloped her world. Her hands tremble on the steering wheel, and she can feel herself losing control of the vehicle. Desperate to make it home before she collapses entirely, she drives faster and faster, barely paying attention to where she's going.

Her chest feels tight, and each breath is more labored than the last. Her mind swims with images of what could happen if she doesn't make it: her family finding her body in the car, or worse, her abusive father somehow managing to get ahold of her after all these years...

As these thoughts race through her head, Detective Cosima almost misses the turnoff for her street. She swerves wildly at the last moment and barely avoids colliding with another vehicle. Her heart is racing now, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she tries to focus on making it home alive.

As Detective Cosima climbs into her car and starts the engine, her vision blurs and her head spins. She can barely focus on the road as she struggles to breathe, the poison taking hold of her body like a vice. Tears roll down her cheeks unchecked as she tries desperately to keep control.

Why did I trust him? He had me right where he wanted me...and now this. She chokes back a sob, pressing her shaking hand against her lips to muffle the sound. Her car swerves dangerously on the road, narrowly missing a parked vehicle as she coughs and wheezes behind the wheel.

She manages to pull over to the side of the road, rolling down the window in a futile attempt to get some air. The cold night breeze feels like knives cutting through her lungs, but it's better than nothing. Her phone sits idle on the seat beside her; she should call for help, but the thought of explaining what happened is too much right now.

Cosima slumps against the door, her eyes fluttering shut as her whole body convulses in a fit of coughing. The poison burns through her veins like acid, eating away at everything it touches. She knows she doesn't have much time left; each ragged breath feels like it could be her last.

And yet, despite the agony and fear, there is one thought that lingers in the back of her mind: If only I hadn't been so stupid...if only I had trusted my gut. But it was too late for regrets now; all she could do was try to survive long enough to bring the real killer to justice.

The world grows darker and dimmer as consciousness slips away from her, taking with

With a final burst of strength, she pulls into her driveway and comes to a screeching halt in front of her house. The car's doors fly open as she vomits violently onto the sidewalk, retching until there's nothing left but bitter bile. Finally, she collapses forward onto the grass, gasping for air like a beached fish. Her world spins and fades into darkness...

As you rummage through Detective Cosima's pockets in search of the keys to her house, a sudden wave of dizziness washes over you. You struggle to keep your balance, blinking away the spots that dance before your eyes.

It takes a moment for you to register the feeling; she must have slipped something into your drink earlier tonight. The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, and panic surges through your veins. You quickly remove whatever it was from her pocket and dump it onto the ground as you hunt frantically for an antidote.

Your fingers fumble clumsily with buttons and zippers as you search through her purse, finally finding a vial labeled "Antidote - Do Not Take Without Medical Supervision." You swallow the tiny glass pills without hesitation, wincing at their bitter taste.

As the effects of the antidote begin to take hold, your vision clears and your breathing evens out. You look down at Cosima's lifeless form once more, now feeling a mixture of guilt and regret. This wasn't supposed to happen; you only meant to teach her a lesson about meddling in things that didn't concern her.

As you approach the lifeless figure on the ground, you hesitate for a moment. She looks so vulnerable, so fragile...and yet she's a tough nut to crack. The image of her standing tall and confident earlier in the bar flashes through your mind, reminding you that this woman is not someone to be taken lightly.

You bend down carefully, searching through her pockets until you find what you're looking for: her house key. Tucking it into your own pocket, you straighten up and lean in closer, studying her face one last time before standing up and making your way toward the front door. The question now is, what do you want to do with her?

As you gently sift through Detective Cosima's pockets in search of the house key, you can feel your heart racing with excitement and fear. Finding the key would be a huge breakthrough in the case, but there's always the chance that she might have set a trap or left something incriminating lying around her home.

Slowly, carefully, you extract the key from its hiding place and hurry toward the front door of her house. You pause for a moment to catch your breath before trying the key in the lock. To your relief, it turns smoothly, and you push the door open with shaking hands.

Stepping inside, you take stock of the dimly lit living room. It's clean and orderly, not much different from any other average suburban home. As you look around for anything out of place or suspicious, you can't help but feel a sense of disappointment washing over you. Maybe there's something in one of the bedrooms...

Taking one last glance around to make sure no one saw what happened, you scoop Cosima into your arms and carry her inside, laying her carefully on the couch.

As you find the keys in her pocket and let yourself into her home, the sense of triumph that washes over you is bittersweet. On one hand, you've successfully taken out a dangerous threat to your operation. But on the other, you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for ending Detective Cosima's life so brutally.

You close the door behind you, leaving her body where it lies on the grass outside. Inside, the house is dimly lit and silent, almost as if it were holding its breath in anticipation of what might come next. You move through the rooms methodically, searching for anything that might be incriminating or give you insight into Cosima's life and work.

As you rummage through her belongings, your mind wanders back to the events leading up to this moment. You wonder how she could have been so careless as to let herself get poisoned like this; it's almost as if she didn't take your warning seriously enough. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of what might have happened if you hadn't been there to save her...

Cosima's pale, lifeless form lies motionless on the bed as you undress her and reveal her naked body beneath your gaze. Despite being dead, her skin retains a softness and allure that is almost hypnotic. Her breasts are full and firm, nipples hardening in the cold air of the room.

As you undress Detective Cosima's lifeless body and lay her naked on the bed, your heart races with a strange mixture of desire and disgust. Part of you can't help but be fascinated by her perfect form, untouched by time or experience. But another part feels a deep revulsion at what you're doing; this woman was once a dedicated officer of the law, and now she lies before you like an object for your twisted pleasure.

You lean in close, studying her face one last time as she stares up at the ceiling with vacant eyes. You trace your fingers lightly along her jawline, feeling the stubble there despite the coldness of her skin. A soft moan escapes from between your lips as you give in to temptation and press your lips against hers.

Her lips are cool and lifeless beneath yours, but it doesn't stop you from kissing her passionately. Your hands wander over her body, exploring every inch of her perfect flesh as you grind your hips against her. Despite the chill that seems to emanate from her corpse, she feels warm and pliant beneath you, almost like she's alive...

As you reach down between her legs, searching for the pleasure center that even death couldn't destroy, you pause for a moment. The guilt is still there, a constant weight in your chest. But it's drowned out by the need to feel something real, to connect with another human being on some level. You push aside your misgivings and continue, taking what you want from her dead body as if she were alive and willing.

You admire her curves as you caress them gently, tracing your fingers along her arms, stomach, and thighs. She feels cool to the touch, almost lifeless, yet there's something about holding her like this that brings a strange sense of comfort. A surreal calm washes over you as you lose yourself in this moment, your every thought focused on her beautiful corpse.

As you continue to explore her body, you notice faint scars here and there; some old, some new, all testaments to the life she led as a police officer. Their presence serves as a stark reminder that beneath this perfect exterior lay a woman who was dedicated to her job, and perhaps even obsessed with it at times.

Your hands move over her body with a mix of tenderness and brutality, as if you cannot decide whether to honor it or violate it further. Her skin is cool to the touch, unyielding beneath your fingers. You watch intently as each inch of her flesh is bared, marveling at its smoothness even in death.

Her breasts are full and firm, nipples still taut despite the absence of life; they beg for your attention, beckoning you closer with their inviting curves. You cup them in your hands, fondling them gently before taking one into your mouth, sucking it hungrily while you groan deep in your throat.

Her legs are long and lean, muscles taut beneath her skin; she must have spent hours running after criminals like herself. You trace your fingers up the inside of her thigh, feeling the softness of her flesh against yours. When you reach the apex of her legs, you part them roughly, revealing her most intimate parts.

Her curls are wet with blood, matted to her skin from where she bled out on the ground outside. It's a poignant reminder of how close she came to surviving this encounter. You gaze down at her, taking in every detail, as if committing it all to memory for when you're done with her.

When you are finally satisfied with your conquest, you stand up and move away from the bed, taking a step back to admire your work one last time before leaving the room. As you do so, you can't help but wonder what she would have thought if she could see herself like this now...dead at your hands, used and discarded like trash.

You lean in closer, pressing your lips against hers for what you assume must be the final time. Her body is still warm, despite the chill that has claimed her life, and her lips feel supple beneath yours. As you kiss her, you can't help but wonder how things might have been different if she had just listened to your warning...