“What about a geographical profile?” Griffin asks, leaning back in the kitchen chair he dragged through and bracing his arms behind his head.
Donny flips the corkboard around, revealing a map of Pennsylvania. Red pins speckle the state like a disease outbreak.
“Morrow operated primarily within a hundred-mile radius of Pittsburgh,” Donny says, circling the concentration of pins with his finger. “His dump sites show escalation, moving from remote locations to increasingly public ones as his confidence grew.”
“Speaks to an increasing need for recognition,” Benji says, tipping his pen at the board.
I brace my forearms on my knees. “Where did he actually commit the murders?”
“He used multiple locations to avoid being caught,” Nico says, from where he’s leaning against the wall. His attention is fixed on the map.
He’s barely glanced my way all morning. During our training session, he was all business. Every attempt to joke was met with those intense eyes until I shut up and got back to work. Maybe he regrets telling me something so personal.
“Not all of his locations were discovered,” Nico continues. “But one was a former chemical storage facility, abandoned in the late sixties.”
“Municipal records show that the facility has since been razed due to environmental concerns,” Benji says, flipping through papers piled up on his lap. “The meat processing plant where he killed Arthur Langman became a strip mall in 2003. The abandoned textile factory, where he conducted his last trial, was converted into lofts in 2015.” Benji raises his eyes to Donny, shaking his head. “Modern security systems make it impossible to operate undetected in urban areas the way Morrow did in the seventies.”
Griffin makes a humming sound. “Sounds like our ghost needs a new playground.”
I tilt my head, processing. “How are we going to figure out who he’s possessing?”
Donny shifts back in his chair, tapping his pen against the notepad in his lap. “Entities are creatures of habit. They tend to choose hosts who mirror their living physicality to some degree: same race, same sexual orientation, usually a similar build.”
“It’s interesting,” Benji says, squirming like he’ll explode if he doesn’t jump in. “Entities who felt powerless or insignificant in life tend to choose hosts with high social power as a way to regain control. Some choose hosts with similar trauma histories because it feels familiar or validating. Others choose ones with different backgrounds to avoid re-triggering their own pain. Entities with strong moral codes tend to choose hosts who are morally flexible, allowing them to bend the host rather than fully dominate them, whereas morally corrupt entities prefer rigid, rule-bound hosts because they enjoy breaking them down. The more dominant the entity was in life, the more autonomy they allow the host—not out of kindness, but because total control feels boring or unnecessary.”
I know he sounds excited because he’s reciting facts and not because he gets excited about murder, but the enthusiastic way he says this makes me uncomfortable, like bodies are just tools to be selected based on how useful they are.
“Most entities prefer younger hosts than their age at death,” Benji continues. “Especially in cases involving sexual violence, where entities exploit the host’s youth and hormones to amplify their impulses.”
Imagining some ghost hijacking a teenager’s body to do that… It’s not nausea I feel. It’s rage.
My fingers curl into fists against my thighs. “Okay, so the host body is probably male, right?”
“Correct,” Donny confirms, writingMALEon a Post-It note and sticking it on the corkboard. “What else?”
“Age would be a primary factor,” Benji says. “Morrow died at seventy-six, but, psychologically speaking, his self-image most likely froze during his active killing period. That’s when he felt most powerful, most in control. He’d probably seek a white man in their thirties or forties.”
Donny adds30-40andWHITEto the growing list.
“Has to be local,” Nico says, his voice carrying that edge of certainty that makes everyone in the room pay attention. “Pittsburgh or surrounding areas.”
Because the modern world would be unfamiliar to Morrow after spending decades in prison. He’d stick to familiar hunting grounds—places he knew well. I’m starting to understand how this profiling thing works.
“He needed someone who could disappear for days without being noticed,” Nico continues. “Didn’t want to waste time explaining where he’s been.”
Donny addsSINGLEandLONERto the board. I stifle a snort. Wouldn’t it be funny if the host turned out to be Dylan?
I shouldn’t joke about Dylan becoming a meat puppet for a serial killer. But also, the man did call Bob ‘Bill’ and hasn’t texted me since I left to ask why I suddenly stopped showing up for work, so I’m not feeling warm and fuzzy toward him.
“He’s a cab driver, or owns an illegal cab,” Nico says. “If he did pick up those men by offering a ride.”
“Is there any chance he could be an Uber driver?” Griffin asks.
“A seventy-six-year-old ghost wouldn’t know what Uber is,” Nico says, shifting his weight and crossing his arms. “Ride share apps didn’t exist in the seventies. Also, this host has an IQ below 116.”
“True.” Benji turns to explain to me, “It’s extremely unlikely Morrow would choose a host that challenged his belief in being a genius. Plus, people with lower IQs are typically easier for entities to manipulate.”
“I’d also wager his host has access to a place Morrow can set up his trials without being disturbed,” Nico says.
