Match 21771 Tracy Atwood vs. Tom Cooper

[Boratz]

Case File: The Unhinged Stranger
 
The early morning was quiet as rain poured down against the neighborhood. It was early enough in the morning that even the sun’s ray had not yet beamed across the skies. All in all, it appeared to be another unassuming and typical morning, but it was simply deception for what was about to transpire.  Within a typical and unassuming cul-de-sac in the suburbs, a lone vehicle waited out in the street. The man inside the vehicle glared at the driveway of a two-story house while his vehicle’s headlights started fade into darkness after shutting off the engine. Feeling a burning pain, the man picked up a tablet of hydrocodone and he crushed it between his teeth. He closed his eyes for a moment while gripping the steering wheel. His fingers pressed deep into the wheel while he breathed in and out. There was something inside of him that broke. There was something inside of him that became unhinged.
 
The man sat inside of his vehicle for a long while. The steering wheel was still clenched tight in his hands. With one final sigh, he slowly opened his eyes. His attention then turned to the gold band around his ring finger. With disdain and contempt, he pulled the wedding ring that once symbolized a commitment of love off his finger. Without a second thought, he tossed the ring in the back seat. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of matches. He sparked one and looked at that small yellow glow. Watching it as it burned down to his finger, that glow soon faded. He looked down at his flip phone soon after. The man saw that the time was 4:03. Most would be fast asleep during this early hour before the break of dawn, but this man could not sleep. His eyes, bloodshot and swollen from sleeplessness, stared at the porch light on that two-story house. It glowed like a beacon that was there to taunt him and humiliate him. 
 
Stepping out of his truck, the rain rushed down against him. Slowly he took of his jacket, which his long sleeve button up shirt became drench in water. He folded his jacket nicely and placed it in the front seat before opening the back door. Reaching inside the back seat, he pulled out a hammer. His grip on that hammer was unwavering as he realized that it was sturdy and reliable. It was everything that she was not. The man then reached over for a canister that was filled with gasoline. Without a word and in complete silence, he stepped forward. He moved away from his vehicle and headed toward the house. His heavy frame dragged across the wet lawn while boots sunk against the rain covered ground. At the entrance of that two-story house, he started smashing the hammer against the door. His face tightened as he smashed that hammer over and over against the door.
 
Still, he had no words. He grunted and his eyes furrowed in determination while busting through the door. From upstairs, voices stirred. A woman screamed and a man shouted. They soon raced downstairs only to be greeted by the soaking wet stranger with a hammer. The woman screamed in horror while the other man shouted at the stranger. The stranger's lips curled into something halfway between a sneer and a snarl. He raised the hammer and slammed it into the oncoming man. The woman's screams were loud as she turned and ran away. The stranger continued slamming the hammer down against the now lifeless body of the man. Tom climbed the staircase; his bulking frame moved with terrifying certainty. He was there for a reason. He was there for her. 
 
The woman shrieked and as she tripped on the stairs. The stranger's hand caught her hair and yanked her back with a fury that burned deep down in his chest. She clawed, she kicked, and she begged. “Please, no! No, don’t!” The hammer fell again. The screams and cries of terror quickly faded out. The sound of pounding rain was all that could be heard. When silence finally returned to the house, only the stranger remained standing. His chest was heaving and his eyes glazed with a terrible satisfaction. He sauntered downstairs and grabbed that a container of gasoline that he had brought with him. He poured a trail across the hardwood floors and then struck another a match. Soon the house roared with fire, an inferno consuming the early morning that would soon become a symbol of the horrors that would soon come.
 
The man left without looking back, climbing into his car, blending into the dark road as the flames behind him clawed at the sky. He knew that this was not the end. Soon, the police would come. Soon, they would be searching for him. Soon, everything that he worked so hard for would unravel. Deep down he knew the truth. Deep down, he knew that it had broken long before he smashed through that door. He knew that he was unhinged.
 
By dawn,
 
Yellow tape cordoned off the smoldering wreckage. Firefighters were still spraying down blackened beams while the air stank of charred wood and death. Flashing red and blue lights swarmed the area. An unmarked sedan pulled up to the horrific scene. Stepping out of the sedan was a dark-haired woman with her coffee still steaming in her hand. Her dark tailored blazer barely covered the detective badge that she wore on her belt. She approached the taped perimeter while slight mover her blazer to reveal that same badge. A uniformed officer lifted the line for her while giving her a nod. The woman stared over the grisly scene with a sickening feeling lurking deep in her stomach. There were two body bags zipped near the coroner’s van.
 
This detective, Tracy Atwood’s jaws tightened as she looked over the crime scene. In her career, she had seen dozens of crime scenes and investigated dozens of murders. She put away some of the city’s worst killers. Tracy had witnessed the most horrific and violent murders done by mankind, but it never made her callous to the brutal nature of mankind. It never became easier. It only fueled her and motivated her to find the ones responsible for such horror. Domestic massacres such as these always carried an uglier kind of intimacy. Her mind was already piecing together an ugly pattern of violence and brutality. Her mind was already forming a list of potential suspects. A crime scene investigator, Ramirez, approached her with tablet in hand.
 
“Female victim, mid to late forties, recently divorced. Lived here about six months. Male victim, we believe is her new boyfriend. Early fifties. Both deceased before the fire, repeated blunt force trauma. Fire was arson.”
 
Tracy knelt near the charred remains of the staircase, eyeing the scorched path from where the fire originated. “Blunt force? What kind?” She muttered while her piercing dark eyes stared down at the horrific scene.
 
Ramirez scrolled through his tablet. “Preliminary guess, maybe hammer or similar tool. There appeared to be multiple blows, but the bodies were...”
 
“Burned.” Tracy exhaled as she stood up. “What about relatives? You mentioned that she was recently divorced. What do we have on the ex?”
 
“We’re running it now. Female victim’s name is Melissa Cooper.”
 
“Cooper?” Tracy responded.
 
Ramirez nodded. “Yeah. You want us to dig into the ex-husband?”
 
“Yes. Make it a priority.”
 
She turned away and started heading back to her sedan. Before opening the door, she let out a sigh before turning back to look over the smoldering house. A divorce, new boyfriend, and an ex-husband that was not accounted for. The motive was certainly there. Tracy stared off in a trance for a moment while reflecting on the details of this new case. Her phone started to buzz which tore her away from her thoughts. She looked down at the number and saw that it was her attorney.
 
“Atwood.” She answered before opening the door to her vehicle and getting inside.
 
“Tracy, we need to talk about the divorce papers. Your husband…”
 
Tracy cut him off. “Not now. I don’t have time for this.”
 
“You can’t ignore this forever, Tracy. The court date…”
 
“I said not now! I am in the middle of something.” She hung up, shoving the phone back into her coat. She let out a deep breath through her nose and shook her head. Her jaw ached from clenching. It was unfortunate that she was now dealing with a case such as this when she herself was going through her own issues with a nasty divorce. She cussed under her breath while thinking about her soon to be ex-husband before roaring up the engine of her sedan. Tracy took one last look at the blackened frame of the house. Two lives ended brutally. A family shattered, and a name she could not ignore. The name was Cooper.
 
Back at the precinct,
 
In the background, there was a news report flashing across the television screen. Several stations were reporting on the incident in New Orleans in which law enforcement had engaged against the suspect known as the Grabber. The story was still ongoing. 
 
Tracy pulled up the file for Melissa Cooper’s ex-husband. The name Tom Cooper came across her screen. There were some mugshots, old arrest records, disorderly conduct, and road rage incidents. There were even domestic complaints filed, but nothing was ever pursued. Through it all, Tracy saw a pattern of anger. While every charge was either dropped or settled, she saw a man slipping through cracks. He was festering with each incident. She leaned back and rubbed her eyes. Tracy sighed while leaning forward to take a sip from her coffee. “If he’s our suspect, where is he now?”
 
While everything felt as if it were about to pause, her screen pinged. There was an update on the vehicle that belonged to Tom Cooper. It was last seen leaving a gas station on the interstate. It was only a couple hours from the city, only hours from where the horrors had unfolded.
 
 “You’re running, but not far...” She muttered to herself with a puzzled expression.
 
Elsewhere,
 
Tom Cooper drove through the world that had seemed to change in only a matter of hours. His knuckles white on the wheel and his eyes were heavy. His mind swirled with fury; at his ex-wife, her betrayal, the new man, and society itself. The world had wronged him, over and over. Nobody respected him. Nobody gave him peace. He was mad and, in his madness, he realized that everything he did was the result of what the world had done to him. Tom stopped at an intersection while contemplating what he would do next. Even though, he thought that the rage would leave him after what he had done, it continued to burn deep within his soul.
 
At a red light, a horn blared behind him. Suddenly, he glanced in the rearview mirror to a woman in a sedan. She was in her mid-thirties, and she had her young son in the rear passenger seat. This young woman gestured angrily for him to move while continuing to blast her horn. She soon changed lanes and darted around his vehicle while angrily gesturing at him again as he sat still at the green light.  
 
When he finally rolled forward, that anger that burned within him shifted to the woman in the sedan. Everything became clear. He pulled up next to her vehicle and rolled down his window. He gestured for her to roll down her window, but he could tell that she was trying to ignore. She was trying to push him aside like everyone else in this world. The rear window rolled down and he saw her young son sitting in the back seat.
 
“You know what a courtesy tap is, young man? Sounds like this.” He tapped the horn a couple times. “It’s light, it’s friendly, just like you’re trying to get someone’s attention. I’m sure that’s what you mom meant.”
 
The woman, Rachel, was on a short fuse. She was cold and she was not wanting to engage the man any further. After a few cold responses to the stranger in the truck, Tom continued in hopes that she would give him an apology.
 
“I’ve been kind of having a hard time lately.” Tom admitted while trying to hold on to what humanity he had left within him.
 
“Yeah, well join the club!” Rachel snapped, unapologetically.

“Well, I’m sorry that you are, and I’m sorry that I might have made it worse. You accept my apology?” Tom continued as he felt his heart pounding in his chest, hoping that there was an ounce of compassion left in this world.

“Sure, whatever.” Rachel said without giving it a second thought.

“Perfect, if you could just do the same, we could press reset.” Tom replied.
 
Growing impatient with his badgering, Rachel snapped at him again. She told him that she had nothing to be sorry for and that the light was green. He was not moving, and she did what she had to do. In that moment, Tom’s heart stopped pounding. His humanity had now left his body, and his soul was now burning. This woman was no different than the world that had wronged him so many times before. She had to be taught a lesson. She had to learn what he had gone through so many times before
 
“Well, I don't think that's really true of any of us now, is it? But that's where we are in this world today. We seem to have developed a fundamental inability to apologize to anyone for anything. I don't even think you really know what a bad day is, but you're gonna find out. You hear me miss? You're gonna fucking learn.” Tom promised as his new obsession began.
 
The light turned green, and Rachel drove away from that stranger in the truck. Her heart pounded and her pulse ran fast. She had no idea what she was in for. She had no idea the monster that was coming her way.
 
Tom watched her speeding off from inside of his truck. Muttering under his breath, the troubled man grumbled, “You should have just said sorry.”
 
Back at the precinct,
 
Tracy sat at her desk, sipping cold coffee, when a dispatcher hurried over.
“Detective, we’ve got a situation. Woman reporting she’s being followed by a man in a black pickup. Caller ID shows name is Rachel Flynn.”
 
Tracy’s head popped up. "What does that have to do with me?" The detective asked with a puzzled expression. 
 
The dispatcher responded, "The truck matches the BOLO alert that was sent out and the man matches the description of Tom Cooper."

Tracy's stomach twisted as she heard those words. She grabbed her coat and her Glock before rushing for the door. Several thoughts ran through her mind. A lot of suspects would be on the run, and others even tried hiding. Something was different with this one. Tracy knew all too well there were other perpetrators that did something else entirely. There were some out there that wanted to watch the world burn. Tracy feared that this Tom Cooper not only wanted to watch the world burn, he also wanted to light the match. 
 
 On a crowded intersection, 

Rachel’s sedan weaved desperately while Tom’s truck barreled behind. Kyle clutched his seatbelt, eyes wide with terror. Tom’s face was blank and detached from reality. It was as though he was watching someone else steer his hands. He rammed her bumper not once but twice. Rachel screamed as she swerved into a side street.
 
That’s when another car screeched around the corner, Tracy Atwood’s unmarked sedan. Her eyes locked on Tom’s truck instantly. Tracy's instincts were screaming. This was him. She wished that there was backup, but they were still several minutes out. The detective had to do something quick. She floored it, cutting between Rachel and Tom with the siren in her unmarked sedan wailing.
 
Tom’s eyes flickered in rage. Someone had gotten in between him and his prey. Tracy leveled her gun across the dash, shouting over the megaphone.
 
“Tom Cooper! Pull over the vehicle!”
 
Tom’s grip tightened. Instead of stopping, he slammed the accelerator. His truck was going straight toward her.
 
The impact missed by inches as Tracy swerved. Tom thundered past her as his tires squealed. Rachel was still fleeing ahead in hopes of escaping this nightmare. Tracy spun the wheel, chasing the perpetrator. Her siren echoed through the quiet streets as her heart hammered with each passing second. This wasn’t just a chase anymore. It was personal. She’d seen what he did at that house. She knew what he was capable of, and she wasn’t about to let him add another family to his list.
 
The road narrowed into a long stretch leading out of town. Rachel’s sedan veered left into a gas station lot. She was desperate to escape, but Tom’s truck followed. Tracy’s tires screeched as she braked hard, blocking the only exit. She stepped out with Glock raised. Her voice steady despite her pounding pulse.
 
“Tom! It’s over!”
 
The truck idled by while the engine growled like a caged beast. Through the windshield, Tom’s eyes locked on hers. Unblinking and unyielding, he was not going to stop. He was going to finish what he started. Tracy knew, in that moment, this was only the beginning. She knew this was going to be life or death. 

[Callisto]

Learn More About
Tracy Atwood
Read more about Tracy Atwood at Wikipedia
Official Site: MGM Links: Wikipedia The Rush Starpulse

Tom Cooper
Read more about Tom Cooper at Wikipedia
Official Site: Solstice Studios Links: Wikipedia

[Boratz]

Hope you all enjoy

[JohnnyChany]

A great addition. I'm liking the world building. Not only should Tracy win, but Tracy needs to win. Tom sucks. 

[Callisto]

Match Final Results

Member Ratings:
5.00 - JohnnyChany
5.00 - Yazmal

FPA Calculation:
2 Total Votes cast
10.00 Total Combined Score
10.00 / 2 = 5.00 Final Rating on the match

MATCH SCORE
Tracy Atwood: 3
Tom Cooper: 0