Date: Thu, 4 Aug 2011 10:55:43 -0700 From: Christopher Cooper Subject: Agent Mike - The Night of the Tranny Killer Chapter 1 Agent Mike - The Night of the Tranny Killer By Michele Brown Email: cc57057@gmail.com This is a work of fiction any similarity to anyone alive or dead is purely coincidental. I spent a good part of a year thinking of a cool idea for a transsexual hero(ine). I came up with this thriller involving an FBI agent Mike Thompson. This will be the introduction and the first chapter, hopefully I will receive responses to keep posting the rest of the story, as I found this a true labor of love. I should note this is a violent story, and does have sexual situations. If you are bothered by violence or are under the age of 18 then please do not read anymore. Let me know if you liked this story at cc57057@gmail.com Agent Mike - The Night of the Tranny Killer Stephanie knew it was a bad idea, with all the recent attacks but she needed to get home. Stephanie was walking at a fast pace, her heels scuffing the ground as she tried to make her way through the debris, many times holding her nose from the stench of old food and human piss that would waft in the air. Stephanie during the day, was Steve, married with two children, but could never shake the female side of him, and the need to satisfy men with her mouth. Stephanie had just given a blowjob to some guy in the theater, she could still taste the cum in her mouth, she remained on that idea trying to think of the positives but the dark images that ran through her head was not going anywhere. "Why did I decide to leave the back way? Oh that's right I didn't want to be seen by the police! Stupid idea!" she would mumble to herself. She stopped for a second, the heels she was wearing was making it difficult for her to walk, but she didn't dare think of taking them off with the broken glass and used needles in the way. As she readjusted her shoe, she heard footsteps, not a slow pace, but quickening as they near her. She put her heels on, nearing running speed to the exit of the alley, she could see the police cruiser making its rounds, when she felt a hand grab her by the collar, she tried to escape but her heels were letting her down. She felt the sting of a fist across the face, it was happening so fast. She tried to get up, to regain herself, unfortunately by the time she was able to stand she saw the blade shining in the darkness, with one clean slice it came down slashing her throat, she tried to scream, all that would come out was mere gurgles. The man grabbed her by the throat with one hand and stabbed her repeatedly with the other. He wasn't done with her, as he threw her to the ground, lifting her skirt, he held the flaccid penis and with two quick slices and a final pull it was off. The man watched her as she started to convulse, her head banging against the concrete, her hands tightened up and as the final breath drew she finally laid still. "The transgender and gay communities are on high alert right now, as another transvestite was found dead in the alley near 1st and Main. This makes victim number eleven. We are going to go our field reporter Mike Jones, Mike what are the police saying?" "Thanks, Jack. The police are still baffled, they have very little or no clues to who could do this. Back to you Jack." "In other news." the man, turned off the television set. He looked down looking at his new trophy, Steve's penis. He stepped up and put the penis into the jar with the other pickled penises he held in the jar. He went to bed, but not before masturbating to the thought of Stephanie and the other victim's deaths. Chapter 1 "The FBI has been called in to help us." The groan from the police station is in unison. "Listen, we have been working this case for over 4 months, this guy is getting more active as the days lead on. We will need their help!" "How long until those over bearing bastards come in?" Before a response could be made "Actually there is only one from the FBI that will be here." Replied a well dressed man, his baby face hid his age from the detectives as he moved along his introduction, "So I guess there will be only one over bearing bastard. My name is Agent Mike Thompson I have been assigned. The file from what I read, describes a man who hates himself. He has his own personal feminine side but cannot display them as the victims have." "Why take their dicks?" "At that point he transforms them from men to women; perhaps it is what he wishes to be. If I remember correctly, Detective Mau, in his report said there was hair missing from either the victim's real hair or their wigs, which helps support my theory. But like everything with theories, it could be bullshit. I would appreciate it if any one else has any sort of information, they please let me know." Agent Thompson, left the station arms full of folders, many personal observations from the detectives, but many was the evidence and autopsies of the victims and their areas. As he checked into the hotel, ordering room service, he wanted to clear his head before he delve into his latest mystery. Work replaced many things for the agent, replaced family, replaced love and replaced sex. As he opened the door for room service, he grabbed his food and turned on the television. This was his life, not perfect but it was his. Mike's mom passed away when he was young, he looked up to his dad growing up. His dad worked two jobs, and tried to take care of his son the best he could. When Mike was 14, he came home to catch his dad wearing a dress and heels. Mike was so ashamed of his unmanly father, he rarely spoke to him, and after graduation he enlisted into the Army. Fighting in the Bush led war; he received commendations for his acts of bravery on the field. Once he was done, he signed up with the FBI, he graduated in the top ten, and while he was a sophomore in the bureau he was the face of the future for them. This case was difficult for him, he knew he had to do his job, but on the same token why should he? The killer is just taking out fags, doing society a favor by killing them off. After he ate, he laid the folders on the bed, going through them one at a time, and then comparing pictures. The detectives did a damn good job marking down every information, must be stealing some pages from the FBI playbook. Unfortunately, they may have had the tools just not the know how to use them. He looked at his watch, 2am but he wanted to read the last folder, but his eyes begged to differ as he fell asleep with the file in his hands. For the next week, he staked out on his own, adult theaters and transgender bars it made him physically ill having to be in one of these places. He had to do it, he would watch who came and went in these places. He would walk the alleys, like some many victims would do but nothing happened. Problem he learned and as always; he could not be in two different places at once. As always Mike would report back to the FBI, letting them know of every minute detail. But he received the email he dreaded: "Agent Thompson, It seems you have no more information than when you started before. You will be pulled from this investigation, if you do not make progress." Mike was afraid to fail, he decided to head out to get something to eat. Hopefully the food will help him rethink everything. He grabbed his notepad, and got to the diner before the rain started to pour. While eating he made his connections, all the victims had sex before being killed, more often than not oral sex. All the victims were crossdressers, and all were only a few yards away from a adult theater. Mike sipped his coffee, knowing if he doesn't move fast he will be pulled, but the only way he knew he could catch this fiend was to go undercover as a crossdresser. He hated the thought, but this was his career, the agency believed in him, and he needed to show he was willing to do what it takes to advance his career. As he ran outside in the rain, he made his way to the pharmacy and bought the essentials for that night's activities, Nair and razor blades. When he got back to the apartment, he applied the Nair as directed, and then shaved what hairs he may have missed. He jumped on the computer looked at cross-dressing websites looking for tips and where to find transgender friendly places to shop. He became intrigue as he kept reading from different websites; he slowly appreciated the art of disguise, but not the reasons behind it. At 2:30am he decided he needed to sleep, and find the places in the area for his shopping spree later that day.