In the twenty-five years I have been a hunter, I have never questioned my rationale for allocating my particular brand of justice. There is right and there is wrong. Black and white. I have up to this point been incapable of seeing grey. That is until tonight.
My past conquests have included the likes of child pornographers, sex traffickers, rapists and (once) a drug king-pen. The dregs of society. Although their deaths were noticed, and I even covered a report on the drug dealer in a special news report, very little time or effort has been made into seeking out suspects. Tonight I was prepared to take out someone I had been tracking for months.
Whitney Moranis had first popped up on my radar in March of this year. Paul had covered an unusually gruesome murder of a thirteen year old girl who was found beaten and brutally raped. It turned out that she was a runaway turned prostitute and her "John" had decided killing her was the best way to take out his frustrations with life. Once found, this asshole admitted to the murder but tried to cut a deal by leading detectives to the person that set him up with the girl.
Although the killer named Ms. Moranis as the Madame, police had little to go on that the murder victim was even associated with her, let alone pimping her out. That is where I stepped in.
After a bit of cyber-sleuthing and long nights of staking out her house, I came to realize that not only was Whitney Moranis selling young girls to older men but she was purposely seeking out girls that were living on the streets and baiting them with promises of a better life.
It was time to take care of this so no other girls would be hurt. Tonight was the night. I had planned it all out. I knew where she lived and I knew her routine. What I failed to know was she was pregnant.