A/N: What can I say? Rebecca says "Angst" and I say "Horror." Enjoy and Review.
PS: My main character resembles Angie Harmon in my mind. Theories?

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"Mirror, Mirror on the wall…" she muses in the dark, staring at her reflection painted red. Blood drips from her chin like rubies. Her lips and cheeks are bright with the natural stain while her hair is matted by it. Her pale skin is bright in the darkness.

She looks at the body sprawled on the floor and laughs, "Silly boy." She bends down and puts her hand in the gaping wound that was his chest. She feels nothing. She takes her hand out and licks her fingers, "And you said I was heartless."

VICTIM SEVEN FOUND WITH HEART MISSING
The madman plaguing Chicago strikes again.
More on Page 7.

She laughed at the newspaper. She had read numerous articles claiming the killer was a man. Some said he was an adolescent, others claimed he was in his late forties living with his mother. Some said he was living a double life, others said he was a loner and the signs were obvious. The common denominator between these theories was the sex of the killer: male.

She smiled at the thought.

"It's horrible, isn't it?" A woman asked.

"Yes, horrible," it was an automatic response and it looked so genuine that sometimes she was able to fool herself.

"I'm Alice," the woman introduced with a smile.

"Jane," she said skeptically looking around the crowded coffee house.

"I hope you don't mind if I sit here, the other seats are taken and I saw your paper…" Alice said gesturing towards the open newspaper, "The stand is sold out."

Jane raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

Alice sipped her coffee and nodded, "I heard they sold out in fifteen minutes." Jane repressed a smile. "I hope they catch the guy soon," Alice continued, "I think those hearts are going to come back and haunt him."

Jane's brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, someone is going to notice seven hearts in someone's freezer eventually," Alice said with slight exasperation, "seven hearts are hard to miss."

"Right," Jane said, patting her stomach gently, "someone's bound to find them."

Alice looked around the coffee shop anxiously, "Want to know my theory?"

Jane's heart thrilled, she loved hearing what these people came up with, "Yes."

Alice's face scrunched up slightly with an air of smugness, "I think it's a deranged surgeon. I think he's selling hearts on the black market."

"Really?" Jane had wondered how long it would take people to theorize about the black market. Missing organs were fodder for urban legends. Alice nodded again, sipping her coffee with her chin held high. "That's quite a theory," Jane said, feeding into Alice's growing ego.

"I know."

Jane looked at her watch and gave a sad smile to Alice, "I have to get going, but it was great talking to you." Jane left the table and the paper behind. She heard a 'thank you' from Alice, but didn't respond.

They'll never catch me.

VICTIM EIGHT FOUND
The Heartless Hasher Strikes Again!

Jane laughed at the nickname the media had finally bestowed upon her. It was a pathetic attempt at alliteration, accuracy, and pun. The writers that coined her 'The Heartless Hasher' were probably sitting at their desks, proud of their work. They probably thought it was so clever.

Jane thought it was silly.

"If only," she thought with a hint of amusement. If the world ever discovered she was female, the names the media came up with would be much richer. The writers would play with her sexuality, her looks, her intelligence, and her trademark killings. Jane hadn't thought of anything clever she wished to be called personally, but 'The Heartless Hasher' certainly didn't evoke fear in her.

"What a ridiculous name," a man in a Newsboy hat said.

Jane turned to him and smiled, "I agree."

The man looked over her shoulder and read the article briefly, "I still don't understand how they can't have DNA on this guy." Jane's lips curled slightly. "And I want to know how he's killing these men. It's not like they're hobo's, these are important men."

"Are you nervous?" Jane teased, taking in his dress. It was true, she had been preying on the successful. She enjoyed showing the world that those men could be taken down, that they were not as superior as they seemed.

She also enjoyed the power.

"Should I be?" the man laughed, pulling Jane from her thoughts, "I'm not exactly a CEO. I think I'll be fine."

Jane turned to face him, a smile already dancing on her lips, folding the paper in her arms, "And what is it you do?"

The man returned her smile, "I'm a detective. Detective Adam Laheigh."

Jane's smile widened, "Jane Donavaughn."

Adam smiled at Jane and looked around the 'L' station, "What line are you waiting for?"

"Red," she said, smiling at the irony.

The detective raised a brow, "Heading home?" She nodded and the train sounded in the distance and Jane smiled. It was cold on the deck and she was anxious for the line to go underground again. "What are you doing on Belmont?"

Jane frowned, she didn't like so many questions, "Seeing a play."

The train screeched to a halt and Jane moved to get on. The detective grabbed her arm and turned her around, "Maybe we could see a play sometime," he handed her his business card and let her go.

Jane stared at the white piece of paper, already plotting her next kill, "Maybe."

...

Jane refrained from calling Adam for a week. When she did the man sounded all too eager to take her up on her offer. He suggested dinner and a show, she suggested he cook. He laughed and said he had no talent, she promised to help. She may have been over-doing her part on seduction, but the anticipation of this kill was too much.

Finally, he agreed.

The night of their 'date' arrived quickly. Jane spent her day memorizing her plan for the evening. She painted her toes while imagining his pleas and curled her hair while picturing his lifeless corpse. This kill was going to be perfect, it was going to show the public just how untouchable she was.

"Jane," Adam said with a smile when he opened the door. He opened his door to her and allowed her inside. "You look beautiful."

Jane smiled, "Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself."

Adam's smile widened, "Let me show you to the kitchen." Jane followed, her heart racing. The moment was coming; she could almost feel the heaviness of a knife in her hand. "I'm making chicken, I hope you don't mind," Adam said when he reached the kitchen. Two small chickens laid on the counter, a large knife beside them. Jane's heart fluttered.

"Not at all," her head was going light with anticipation, "do you need any help?"

Adam eyed her a moment, then a large smile broke through his face, "I'd love some help." He handed her the knife that she'd been eyeing and Jane couldn't believe her luck. "Why don't you cut the carrots?"

Jane's brain almost went into a haze, the excitement and adrenaline kicking in. She took the knife with grace and began to chop the carrots. Through the corner of her eye she took in stock of the apartment, the exits and then her target. He was muscular, but she was feisty. He had his gun holstered to his hip and she took extra pleasure in knowing that. She was going to kill him, even though his weapon was more powerful and just at his fingertips.

"Adam," she whispered. The man turned to face her and she kissed him. She wrapped her free hand around his neck and held on to him. Adam took her distraction as lust and returned the kiss. Jane intensified it and made sure Adam's mind was in a haze.

She opened her eyes slightly and saw that his were closed. She smiled against his lips.

With a quick strike, she stabbed him. Her knife ran up and right under his sternum. A soft gurgling noise erupted from Adam's mouth, Jane twisted the knife. Jane removed the knife swiftly and blood poured from his chest. He attempted to cover the wound, to stop the bleeding, but it was too much. He fell over, making bloody handprints as he tried to grab the counter for support.

Jane stood over the dying man and smiled.

Blood began to spill from Adam's mouth and Jane knelt down. She kissed him again, the blood spilling onto her lips and smearing across her face. When she broke the kiss she looked to Adam's eyes. They were wide and filled with an unprecedented fear.

She smiled at him, revealing her bloodstained teeth.

Then she plunged her knife into him again. Adam's screams turned into choking, which Jane ignored. She took the knife and cut his chest open. Jane smiled when she saw the still beating heart beneath his ribs. Its rhythm was slow, but Jane didn't mind.

...

Adam had died several hours ago and Jane was still in his apartment. His chest was bare, like the others, and Jane's face was stained red while the substance matted her hair. The feeling of blood on her body was a fond memory that Jane reveled in every time she could.

She stared her latest victim, her cop.

A sense of sadness washed over her. The had just won her game. She had just gotten away with killing a detective, part of Cook County's finest. The police had no idea what to chase and Jane suddenly felt like there was no point in running anymore.

Unless…

She dipped her fingers into his chest cavity. When she pulled her hand out they were warm and covered in his blood, she painted her lips with it. She smacked her lips and then kissed his cheek. The mark was bold against his now pallid skin and she smiled to herself.

Her DNA wasn't in any system, but now the police would know their 'Heartless Hasher' was a woman.

Jane stood and walked out of Adam's apartment, blood still dripping from her dark hair.

The chase was back on.