The actual number of missing persons in the US varies, depending on where the information comes from.  The commonality between sources, as I’ve seen, is North of 600,000.  Oh, make no mistake, I beg you.  That figure isn’t accumulated year after year.  What I’m saying is more then 600,000 people are reported missing every year.  Can you believe it?  Every damn year.

   Now, I’ve never called in a person missing.  I came close a few times when my elderly parents ran off somewhere without telling anyone, but they were always found or checked in before I got to that point.  Although, I never reported any, I have, without a doubt, caused some of them.  Their faces show up on saggy sheets of recycled paper hanging on a telephone pole on a street corner with the ink spread out from soaking into the parchment.  The best part is; Nobody knows, and that’s just how I want it.

   I write this with great caution.  You see, I’m a member of an organization.  One that you won’t find online, or anywhere else for that matter.  If you did, the organization would be disbanded immediately and all its members would go back to their lives.  The lives that the public sees.  The lives that we only live for a short time in a typical day.

   Want to know more about me?  Sorry, that’s not going to happen.  You’re probably as nosey as everyone else in this make-believe, bullshit world.  If you have to know something, I can entertain you; you can call me—let’s see here—John Wolfe.  What the hell.  That’s as good a name as any.  Better than my real name, that’s for sure.  John, because it’s the most generic name I can come up with and Wolfe, because—well, admit it; it’s cool.

   I have stories that will curdle your blood.  I’ve seen evil in this world.  I’m not talking about demons and shit.  I’m talking about real evil.  The kind that makes you stay up at night wondering how God allows it to happen.  Free will, I guess.  Sometimes, I wish God would just check in on occasion.  There are monsters out there.  Real monsters that should have theirs’ taken from them.

   Laws that we create limit the free will of good people, but the free will of God doesn’t stop a monster.  Jeffrey, Charlie, Ted, John, Jack, Eric and Dylan, Adam; the list goes on.  All of them are notorious murderers; household names.  My job, as long as I do it right, and I have so far, is to stop the monsters before somebody else does.

   Call me the judge and jury if you want.  My real responsibility is to be the executioner when deemed absolutely necessary.  Who deems it that way? I do—we do, but I’m not going to talk about the others.  Couldn’t tell you anything about them anyway.  You see, in this line of work, we don’t have motivational team meetings or conferences to reflect on the past fiscal year and face the challenges of the next.  I’ve never met the others, but they’re out there.  Believe me.  We’re all out there.  Hundreds of us.

   Six hundred thousand missing persons in the United States every year.  Kind of makes you want to shed a tear.  But think of this.  Should we really find all of them?  I assure you, you’ll never find the ones that I’ve caused, and trust me when I say you’ll never shed a tear over them either.