The time period they were in the house seemed like an eternity. We wondered what was going on and then, to our ultimate pleasure, they came back out—Reid was in handcuffs and Daniel had what appeared to be the pack we had seen him with when he killed his young victim. The smile Daniel had on his face indicated that Reid had been cooperative. I assumed we had the killer’s prized possessions.
Daniel asked if Nicole could drive Reid’s car to a spot near the river once they were done searching the house. So there we were, Reid handcuffed, his legs now tied up and sitting next to us in the back seat. Mark assured us that Reid would be no trouble as they had administered a tranquilizer to him after his “interrogation.” It seemed he opened up and was very cooperative after the small taser was applied to certain parts of his body. He also had some blood around his mouth but we were not sure about what happened there. All Mark would say was that he apparently had a strong phobia of dentists as he displayed a “wouldn’t you like to know” grin.
The results were impressive—we had the weapons he used, some disgusting photographs as well as a bottle that contained seventeen fingers in various states of decomposition. This was a figure higher than had been reported in the news. Most of them were mere bones, some of them had leathery skin attached—and two still had what seemed to be fresh blood on them. We thought that maybe one of these was from the girl we saw him torture and kill. All the fingers had cheap rings, the kind kids get at places like a carnival—the symbolism seemed that he indeed felt “married” to his victims after death. Fortunately, the bottle had a mixture of lime and salt so there was only a faint smell of death. Still, Nicole looked as if she were about to get ill and asked Daniel to shut the lid and roll down the windows to get the pungent smell out of the car.
The guys went back into the house one more time and returned satisfied they had everything they had been looking for. We got out of Mark’s car and drove Reid’s car to the location Daniel had given Nicole directions to. We soon arrived by the river and ditched the car, keys still inside—Daniel assured us it would be gone soon. Then we started our journey—the destination being the Oregon desert, an area that few traveled this time of year.
At this point Reid started asking questions. Even a man tranquilized would wonder why his car was driven off—yet I wondered just how stupid he was—did he really think he was in the custody of the police when he saw us in the car? Apparently he was pretty dumb since, once we started driving the opposite direction of Portland, only then did he start asking what we were doing. He questioned us, “Hey, where are we going?” and “Why aren’t you taking me to a police station?” and “Look, just take me to the station, I won’t tell about anything that happened just now, I promise! Please, just take me in!” Interesting, he seemed to be pleading with us to have mercy. Of course, he should be accustomed to pleadings as he had heard so many women beg for their lives. Then he got really ironic, he promised not to say a word about our “kidnapping and abusing” him. I could have become angry but then he really set me off when he claimed, “Look, it was not me…I said it was only to stop these guys from torturing me. It was my friend who did the killings, not me!”
I just looked at him, his pathetic look of fear, and then started asking him questions that I was curious about. I asked, “Without messing with me Frank, just tell me why you started killing these women?” I looked at him with fake pity and concern, hoping he would think I felt human compassion. Little did he realize that even when he started crying, it would have no effect on me—not here, not ever.
He started talking to me, relating the archetypical neglected/abused childhood, the absent father and the domineering hateful mother—classical Freudian model of the messed up childhood. Poor him...he then described how his rage had turned towards women in general and how he felt both close and rejected by his victims and that the rings did indeed represent a psychic marriage. As he continued, he started bragging about how easy it was to trick women to come with him. And what was his classic technique? He would use a car seat with a baby doll wrapped up and then he’d ask these women to see if his “baby” was okay. Once they got into the car it was history for them.
I wanted to rip his throat out right there, to play on a woman’s desire to help a child and kill her for it was infuriating to me. I refused to give him any satisfaction though. So after he started bragging about his kills I stopped him and asked, “So if I were alone walking home and you saw me what would you do?” Before this, the rest had been listening intently but with that question Mark glanced in the rear view mirror to look at me as he drove. “Come on now Frank, here’s my hand, would you like this finger? Look, it’s full of blood pulsating through my arteries…wouldn’t you like to have it?”
Even through the tranquilizer Reid started getting agitated. His attempt to play on my sympathy was replaced by a sudden eruption of rage. He started yelling obscenities and thrashing around as if he was in an epileptic fit. Daniel threatened him with the taser but he only settled down a little. I then asked, “So is it because I am in charge here? Do I remind you of your mother? Maybe you’d like to smash my arms while I lay helpless on the ground?” He then looked at me and asked, “How the hell…?” He had not gone into detail about how he broke their arms. He then became more violent—until Daniel leaned over the front seat and applied shocks to him where it would hurt the most. He then started preparing a stronger dose of sedatives. Mark was clearly disappointed as he was fascinated by the conversation and maybe wanted to ask some questions of his own, but there was no choice. The car was crowded and even a partially sedated and immobilized serial killer was too inconvenient to have making trouble. After Daniel gave him the sedative Reid went into a half-drunk, half-conscious state. He began rambling soon afterward and Mark and I just looked at each other for a second and began laughing. Was it nervousness, or something deeper? I did not know.
Daniel asked, “So Melanie, what’s the plan specifically? I have everything you asked for so…?” I responded, “You know about the human experiments at Unit 731, don’t you?” He nodded and said Nicole had mentioned it to him. Then I asked if he was familiar with Tibetan sky burial to which he also said she had discussed. I asked, “You don’t see any problem with fusing the two concepts together, do you?” Mark entered the conversation as we were going around some sharp curves into the mountains, “Don’t worry Daniel, I think Melanie and I can treat Mr. Reid to a creative experience. It’s going to be really messy though. Hope everyone is up to it!” I mentioned that it could not be worse than Ortega’s pig dissections to which Mark responded, “Perhaps, but if you have in mind what I think you do then we will be working on a live human vivisection, not a dead pig. Are you absolutely sure you are up to it?” I said I was and then asked if he was up to it. He sighed and said he was. I said that was great since he was going to work right with me on this one. He thought a moment and said “I know” which I wondered if I had taken too big a step in freaking him out, or if he was just getting mentally prepared for the job. All I said was “Perfect!”
Our guest was still passed out from the drugs and I checked to see if he were still alive…relieved that he was. We drove for hours and I was glad we had brought a lot of snacks for such a long drive—first the Cascades, then the high desert and then the more barren areas of eastern Oregon. At this point Reid started showing signs of consciousness, but then he’d pass out, only to start waking again. When we finally reached the road we would turn on it appeared that he would be fully conscious soon. I had to admit that I was disappointed that we lost the opportunity to ask him more questions—he had ruined the perfect study into the mind of a deranged killer. We could have titled such a study, “An Examination into Fear as it Relates to a Psychotic Subject.” It was sad he could not have been a more cooperative subject.
The area we were now in was not truly desert, it was semi-arid I guess, with lots of juniper bushes and a few old pine trees. The road was surprisingly smooth and there were only hints of snow o
n the side of the road in some places. It might have been impossible to have driven up there in a 4-wheel drive the previous weekend. The one thing we liked the most though was the complete lack of signs of recent tire tracks—we were most certainly alone up there.
We took another little road that seemed even more remote than what we had already encountered. We did not travel far there as it was not so nice and we did not want to get stuck. Even Nicole warned, “You guys, we should not go too far—if the car breaks down here we are all in serious trouble…I mean we might have to eat this guy to survive!” That comment did not seem to amuse Mr. Reid and he began a feeble attempt at protest again. Just then, Mark pulled off the road and when we got out Daniel gagged him and drug him out with severe impatience.
Mark and Daniel took him over to a spot off the road overlooking a cliff. “This will do” Mark proclaimed, and Daniel crouched over and took out a needle. Then, as we brought over the bag with the smaller instruments, just several knives and a few other small items, Daniel proceeded to inject him in the back several times as we all held him down. While he did it he explained that this would reduce the pain receptors in his body. While that might seem like an act of compassion to a condemned man, it was just the opposite. What was odd then was that while Reid was able to move his head freely, the rest of his body seemed paralyzed. Daniel poked his leg with the needle…and then his arm, but no reaction. Then Mark and Daniel removed the hand cuffs and other restraints before also removing his clothing.
Nicole turned to me, “Melanie, this is so awesome, it even gives me the shivers, do you realize that?” I was happy it impressed her. I just hoped I had not gone too far with Mark, but I could not really help myself at that moment. Again I told Mark he would assist me as we played doctor on our patient. He asked what our objective was and I said, quite simply, “We can try to see how far we can go…” I stopped on purpose hoping to place a subconscious trigger in his mind before continuing, “…without him dying of course, I am curious as to how far we can examine him from the inside out and him survive…and be fully conscious.”
Mark then sighed as he looked over Reid’s now naked body. Then he looked at me in that classic sly movie way and said, “You know, this will be interesting…I just hope the fat doesn’t obstruct our view too much. However, we can’t get carried away…nothing can be left to chance. Once he’s dead we have to get rid of the body little by little you know. Are you up for that too?” I joked with him, “Come on, I’m a girl and have had to cut chickens and chunks of cow meat up since I was old enough to help my mom in the kitchen. The only difference here is that I detest this guy more than any animal in the ‘frig’.”
Nicole laid out the knives, some pliers, a small hammer, and cleansing alcohol on some plastic. Daniel also placed a large piece of plastic in the trunk of the car. Mark grabbed a large cool chest and placed it besides the tools. We were almost ready to begin.
Nicole then laughed and pointed out that one thing that was essential, that had worked in Salem and in the last kill—having as little blood stains as possible. The plastic would be enough trouble without a bunch of drenched clothing. I agreed but Mark pulled out a pair of old running shorts from the trunk and insisted that it was not totally necessary to strip down in every case. I looked at him and said it was okay, as I started to disrobe—which seemed to make him uncomfortable, but I hoped it might serve other objectives as well. I could hear Daniel make some sort of groan in protest, but I could not care less at that moment. Nicole just muttered “Oh come on Daniel” and then came over to me so I could hand her my clothes.
What now began was the cross between an advanced biology lesson and some medieval execution. Our subject was not only awake, but Daniel had also given him something to make him extremely alert, even though most of his voluntary muscles were immobilized. He could look at himself, as we had propped his head up, but could not resist. I thought this must be like waking up in the middle of an open heart operation and realizing what was going to happen next, yet being helpless to do anything about it. It was funny how he had some mobility in his arms and legs but just enough to show he was trying to use them. I leaned over him, purposely bringing my chest close to his eyes, and asked how it felt being at the mercy of a young woman. All that he could do was form the kind of incomprehensible words one would make after their jaw was numbed by the dentist. I wondered what he thought was going to happen to him. And of all people, he did deserve “the best.”
During World War Two Japanese doctors at Unit 731 had conducted thousands of vivisection's on prisoners of war. I was curious about how far we could take our subject. I took hold of one of the knives and surveyed his chest. Mark cautioned against cutting too deep and showed me where to make the incisions. I did not want to act too quickly though. I drug the knife back and forth on his abdomen in a teasing way and then, remembering, an article I had read on the subject of “hope” keeping people alive longer, I lied to him. I knelt down and whispered in his ear the promise that if he could survive a c-section like a woman then we would be able to patch him back up and let him live. I even told him that Mark was trained in medicine. I did not want Mr. Reid to give up too soon.
Mark was looking down at Reid and only glancing at me when he had to. Then I noticed that he was finally looking at me, probably wondering when I was going to begin. I was curious if he could see my arteries pumping rapidly—I could hear my heart thumping in my chest as fast as if I were sprinting. It was strange that my breathing didn’t seem any different but perhaps deeper, compensating for the dry air, altitude and, well, the adrenaline pulsating through my veins.
It was time to act though. The first cut was just below the sternum, as I tried to avoid too much damage to the internal structures. I was rather shocked that I felt no revulsion at all, only a strange fascination as he looked down at us and his breathing increased,—it was really interesting that I could actually see lung tissue as the skin parted. I asked Mark to help pull the skin flaps back to give a better view. He suggested a “T” shape incision, a good idea since then neither of us had to pull in order to see inside. Our patient was now trying to talk but with no success; and swinging his head back and forth except occasionally stopping to look to see what we were going to do next. Then I went down to his lower abdomen and made a similar cut, we could then open him up like a set of closet doors—yet we still had not hit any major blood vessels, and I was surprised at just how little a mess this had made so far.
Then it struck me just how surreal this seemed. Steam was rolling out of his body into the air but I did not really feel cold. I looked at Mark who appeared to still be trying to avoid looking directly at me…was he trying to avoid showing any thoughts of desire or was he trying to remain focused? Or maybe he didn’t appreciate my looks after all! That thought, popping into my mind caused me to pause a moment. I hoped I had not spoiled things yet then I thought about how couples could be brought closer together through having unique experiences. What could be more unusual than dissecting a man in the wilderness while being enveloped in the mist rising out of his body? Surely Mark would be affected in some way as he watched me perform on our prey—I mean he was a man and was certainly not blind. Then, just to tease him a bit, I used my finger to make streaks of warm blood on my cheeks and asked, “Hey Mark, do I look like a warrior now?” and made a mean face. He could not help but laugh, and the tension seemed to disappear as he now started talking with me, and looking in my direction, in a more relaxed fashion.
I did not even notice Nicole and Daniel anymore, I knew they were watching but I was not involved with them. It was just Mark and me exploring—playing doctor. I looked at Mark and noticed he was covered in blood by now, and then when I looked at myself, I was also drenched. At this moment Frank Reid was wide open…yet his face showed he was fully conscious, but in a state of terror I cannot really describe, or capture the full essence of. One could guess his feelings of probable disbelief, as he had a full view of his “operation.”
The idea that he could live through all of this was not so strange since women have had c-sections before anesthesia was ever invented, and he had lots of pain killers in his blood. Then I actually found myself asking Mark which organs were which and even asking Frank if he felt this was an interesting task. I even inquired if he felt anything as I jabbed my finger into his liver. He couldn’t answer very well, though.
Of course I was curious as to what he could feel. I thought about what he had done to his female victims and asked Mark to find me a needle or something like it. I then told Frank that we were almost done and he was holding out remarkably well. “Just hang in there a few more minutes!” I said, looking directly into his eyes to try to make it appear I was telling him the truth. Not sure if he believed me though as Mark returned with a long strand of copper wire with a very sharp end. “Perfect” I said and asked if Mark might want to turn away for this one. He asked “Why?” and I then just said “Oh well, I warned you.” and moved down to grasp Vincent’s testicles and pierce the wire through them. I noticed that Mark was not all that squeamish, which surprised me. But I could tell Frank must have felt something because his legs started to jerk around a bit and he managed to let out a horrific, but somewhat muffled, scream of pain.
I rested on my elbow on his chest in a manner a girl might rest on her boyfriend in a park and then admitted to him, “You know my dear, I just have to ask, have you figured out by now that I lied? I am the last person in this life you will ever caste your eyes upon. How does that feel?” His eyes opened really wide and he looked up at the sky—which I had not even noticed had darkened with a thick cloud cover. He seemed to be feeling more pain—I suppose the shots were wearing off, and all he could do then was groan.
Melanie's Journey Page 23
