Upvote Down Goes Another One

by WCLaine
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Tags   drama   thriller   mystery   relationships   serialkiller   soulsearching   cult   | Report Content

Down Goes Another One - drama thriller mystery relationships serialkiller soulsearching cult - main story image



Kaiya Valentine, Sheridan Kane, Spencer Kane, Anthony Cardinelli, Leon Paulo, Cole Morales, Donna Wagner, Joshua Hakim, Benjamin MacIntyre, Canice O’Sullivan, Richard Harris, Stanley Warren, Matteo Calabrese, Mara Bailey


From June 1994 to July 1995, a spree of gruesome child killings known as the Hansel and Gretel Serial Murders struck terror into the hearts of parents throughout Illinois. The killer was a genius at toying with the media for coverage and dangling the police on a string; they were no doubt always two steps ahead. The killer had their fun, leaving death and the destruction of families behind before eventually disappearing as if they’d dropped off the face of the earth.

Now, in 2020, a steady stream of frighteningly similar incidents have surfaced.

Two young officers, Sheridan Kane and Kaiya Valentine have been put on the case for one simple reason: Nobody believes it can be cracked. To their Chief, there is no point of using resources on a mission to outsmart a mastermind’s copycat, and he certainly isn’t going to put his better officers’ lives on the line by the increasingly disturbing evidence that the culprit has a cult following that isn’t afraid to get their hands dirty. To keep the press and parents off of his back, the two women are employed as scapegoats to take the fall when the inevitable happens.



Down Goes Another One
There is no happiness without tears, no life without death. Beware; I am going to make you cry.

Theme Song
All You Are - Memtrix
Who Will Save You Now - Les Friction


Kaiya Valentine, Sheridan Kane, Spencer Kane, Anthony Cardinelli, Leon Paulo, Cole Morales, Donna Wagner, Joshua Hakim, Benjamin MacIntyre, Canice O’Sullivan, Richard Harris, Stanley Warren, Matteo Calabrese, Mara Bailey + More

Crime, Thriller, Drama, Mystery, Police/Detective, Gallows Humour, Angst, Suspense, Psychological, Serial Killer

Start Date
[Original] 5th March 2013
[Reboot] 19th March 2020

End Date

Swearing, Graphic Violence/Gore, Substance Abuse, Sexual Themes, Character Death.

Child Abuse/Murder, Sexual/Mental/Physical Abuse, Self-Destructive/Suicidal Behaviour, Mental Illness.




Kaiya Valentine
Tantrum - Ashnikko

Sheridan Kane
Chewing Gum - Nina Nesbitt


Cole Morales
Brave - Zayde Wolf

Spencer Kane
Youngblood - 5 Seconds of Summer

Anthony Cardinelli
Sweat - The All-American Rejects


Leon Paulo
Sick and Tired - Iann Dior ft Machine Gun Kelly & Travis Barker

Benjamin MacIntyre
Obviously - McFly


Joshua Hakim
Talk To Me - MÖWE & Sam Feldt ft Conor Maynard & RANI


Stanley Warren
Just A Little Girl - Trading Yesterday

Richard Harris
Locking Up The Sun - Poets of the Fall

Matteo Calabrese

Dirty Filthy Soul - AWOLNATION


Mara Bailey
Don’t Get Any Closer - Bebe Rexha







The front of one of the busiest day-nurseries in the area was cordoned off. Crowds of parents buzzed around the perimeter complaining about having to wait in the heavy rain with their small children. Reporters had turned up, hounding everyone that might have a scrap of information, clicking at their fancy camera's and having no respect for what was obviously a crime scene. Flashing their badges, the pair of young detectives advanced for the blockade and as he saw the I.D's, a beat cop raised the standard yellow tape for them to duck under. Not a second passed before they were greeted by a member of the forensic team.

"Thanks for making it so soon," a man with short brown hair and appearing around the same age as them held out his hand only to recoil the bloodied latex glove in realization. "Sorry," he tilted his head with an apologetic grimace-smile. "The name's Ben MacIntyre, I've been reposted here so we'll be seeing a lot of each other."

The slightly shorter of the pair, a platinum-haired woman in a black trouser suit shot the stranger a pointed look for his clumsy words. The redhead beside her slowly blinked in disbelief. "Detective Kaiya Valentine and this is my partner," the blonde gestured to the taller female beside her.

"Sheridan Kane," slipping her badge into the inside pocket of her pastel blue suit jacket, the redhead asked as she and her partner followed the young man, swerving out of the way of buzzing CSI agents and patrol cops trying to keep the public back. "What's the story?"

"It's quite horrific."

Pulling back the flap of the white tent used to block prying eyes, both women stepped inside. Sheridan coughed into the crook of her elbow, her eyes watering at the suffocating air laced with the stink of iron, quenched ground, and something she was not quite familiar with. Taking note of the square number-markers on the wet soil, she inspected the confined area in order to find anything obvious about the mess.

“There’s been a rise in child murders lately,” the redhead relayed what she had heard around the office in thought. Craning her neck to inspect the slight blood smear near the edge of the glass patio doors of the nursery, she noticed a chunk of something similar to clay caught on the ledge of the doorframe. "They weren't killed here."

Continuing with what he had been doing previously, filling out the papers on his clipboard, the forensic member conversed with the younger female with half of his attention. “The officer that found them said that these two are brother and sister. The orphanage they belonged to filed a missing persons claim two days ago.”

Turning around, Sheridan furrowed her brows when she saw her partner loom over the pair of small bodies in ragged clothing. “Kai, ya good?”

“The blood is getting to the newbie,” MacIntyre tried to lighten the mood of the horrific situation, but all he got was another glare from the redhead while the blonde merely crouched onto what was practically all-fours.

“Blood doesn't bother me, and I'm not a newbie.” Bent down fully to take a closer look at the sprawled bodies lying next to each other, posed to hold hands, the flesh peeling around their mouths. The frown-line between Kaiya’s brow deepened more than usual, “It looks like the Hansel and Gretel serial murders from '94-95."

“Oi-oi, lady~” MacIntyre ducked and weaved his head in an odd motion as he watched the female, “just how old are you? Those happened around twenty years ago.”

“Twenty fives years, almost to the exact month it started in ‘94. And as Dani said, there has been a rise in child murders lately, so it wouldn’t be a shock to me if this isn’t the first pair.”

Making a note on his clipboard, MacIntyre's expression dropped, “I’m surprised you know about it. How old are you, like, twenty-eight, twenty-nine?”

“I know more about it than most people,” she looked back to the boy and girl who couldn't be much older than seven or eight.

Leaning over the blonde, MacIntyre watched the woman with intent interest. “How’s that? There wasn’t much to know anyway – The culprit was practically a phantom.”

“My Pa was also a detective.” Disregarding the figure looming over her at close proximity, Kaiya snatched a single glove peeking from the man's jacket pocket and slipped it on her right hand. “He was the type to bring cases home and leave his stuff all over the table while we were eating dinner.”

“I bet your mother was really pleased with that,” he continued to prod his line of inquiry but Sheridan cut him off with her own question.

“This has all been photographed, right?”

Getting a nod from the man, Sheridan tapped the top of her partner's shoulder with her index finger, "how's it looking down there?"

Scrunching her nose, the blonde rested her left hand on the mud for support and shifted forward. Taking the hem of the boy's once-grey and white stripy t-shirt, she pulled it up from his skin, clotting sanguine acting like tacky glue causing resistance.

MacIntyre awed and leaned even closer from behind the crouching woman, "what the Hell is that?"

"That is being too close," he was quickly shot a backwards glower as Kaiya held her discombobulated position.

Holding his hands up in defence, the crime scene investigator backed up and walked around to join the other two in crouching around the marred body as if they were warming their hands around a grotesque bonfire.

Sheridan huffed and pushed the few stray wisps of hair off her face, "it's the same M.O., isn't it?" She looked to her partner who was just glaring at the methodical slashes and obscure icons etched deep into the boy's marbled skin.

Taking her keys from her inner pocket, Kaiya directed the pen-light keyring over parts of the body. “Two days ago?”


“The missing report?”

“That’s what…” flicking through the papers on his clipboard, MacIntyre scoured the report, “Patrol officer Hank Morrow said. He was doing his usual beat at 6:30am wh-”

“-I don’t need the back-story.” Placing down the tiny hand back where it had been, Kaiya switched the flashlight off and stood up, her company in tow. “Surely even you can tell that most of those bruises are older than a few days old. 'Same goes for the callouses on his hands.” Pulling the glove off, the blonde left the tent and tossed the discarded article in a biological waste bag. “The girl probably has the same kind of old wounds and identical new marks.”

Scanning scrutinizing eyes over the blonde, MacIntyre held out a small card. “I have a friend in the M.E’s office. Do you have a card in case I come across another of these, or if he finds something else - so we can co-ordinate rather than going around the houses of passing messages to middle-men?”

When the blonde walked away without a word and back towards her car, Sheridan handed over what had been asked of her with a nod of appreciation and a quick farewell. Striding over puddles beginning to form on the grass, she caught up with her partner just as she made it to the vehicle. “What are we going to do if it’s like the last time?”

“We’re going to catch the motherfucker before it gets that bad. Let’s just hope for his sake that he makes it to holding.”

The redhead sucked in a deep breath of the brisk city-morning air. She had known the woman marching for a long time and even if she didn’t know anything about her all, she would have known those words were anything but hopeful. Tinged with sarcasm, probably - but certainly not holding any kind of expectation nor ambition to keep the sick fucker safe once apprehended.




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