1) The Moon: Despair and a desperate need for help.

It was a pitiful sight. The stench overwhelmed the two police officers beside him, but not Dark. He’d grown used to the scent of death. Then a sudden flashback of Sibby crossed his mind, causing him to shudder slightly. He squatted next to the hacked up body of the homeless man and examined the diagram of a full moon drawn in the poor man's blood. He could almost smell the despair wrapped around the twisted body. Mirroring the bloody image were the man's eyes -- solid, milky white orbs floating in a black sky of blood pooled in his sockets.

As usual there was little to be learned from the scene. He knew who was responsible but not the motive. What did it mean and where was it going? Where was this leading him?
Dark stood, sighing over yet another case full of dead bodies. He wondered what the meaning was with the bloody images, but couldn't get past the feeling of a noose tightening around his neck as time wore thin. As he studied each scene, he felt dark, beady eyes hidden behind a mask, haunting him, taunting him, and he wasn't surprised to find there was no physical evidence of the murderer.

Later that night, the sound of a ringing phone woke Dark with a start. The flashes of the gruesome murders left dream wisps as he struggled for consciousness. He felt a deep sense he wasn’t tying together all the pieces, and it was eating away at him. What was the link, what connected all these victims? Slowly, he slid out of the bed he once shared with Sibby. He grabbed his cell phone and walked down the dark hallway. As he passed the nursery, he was nearly driven to his knees by abrupt images of the brutality cutting through his city. He struggled to make his way into his baby’s room, fearful of finding yet another unknown symbol decorating her unrecognizable body.

4) The High Priestess: Something remains yet to be revealed, but patience must be observed.

Flipping open his noisy cell, Dark glanced at the image – and froze. He couldn't piece together the photo laying so innocently in his palm, nor the text written below it in a spidery hand. She was once a beautiful woman, but now sat propped up in a high-backed chair. Her gown was drenched in her blood, pouring from savage slashes to her face and neck. Under the picture it read: “Patience is a virtue and change must come from within.” Suddenly, a picture he had once seen surfaced in his mind and he rushed back to the crime scene photos on his kitchen table. Holding the cell picture against the rest, he finally saw the connection; each killing bore an eerie resemblance to a tarot card reading he had done at Sibby’s insistence.

5) Death: Abrupt and complete change of circumstances, way of life and patterns of behavior due to past events and actions.

He remembered the last card tarot reading: Death. The reader said the meaning wasn't as dire as Dark thought, but even so, he apprehension ran down his spine. Dark focused on the image again and frowned at the familiar phone number -- his. He now saw some sort of reflection in the image, a dark individual standing in front of a mirror positioned behind the girl. "Oh no..." Dark muttered, then ran downstairs to his den. He burst through the door, then gasped, slamming himself against the wall nearby as shock took over. There, positioned almost exactly like the photo on his phone sat an ominous black suit, dripping with dark red fluid, pulsating in the red and blue lights flashing outside his window.