As Ness interviewed the frightened line up of men, the flashes of the cameras lit up the dilapidated area in all its gruesome clarity and alert press noted down there detailed observations of the chaotic scenes that surrounded them. Numerous arrests continued unabated all around them as they were now surrounded by small and well-armed contingent of his loyal men. The fiercely protective detectives Shibley, Wachsman and Weitzel all stood with May and Musil a few meters away from the prized group as they brandished the deadly gleaming firepower of shotguns.
As Ness continued to question the men, police cadaver dogs and the accompanying guard dogs, all frantically barked and ran haphazardly in all directions as they eagerly led there masters to their elusive quarry. Ness’s merciless men where frantically searching the dingy, dark recesses of the rickety homes as there lights highlighted the squalid living conditions that there vacant owners had miserably endured. They violently ransacked the entire area in search of anything remotely relating to the Mad Butcher case and the questioning Ness then paused as he heard the familiar frightened voice of the scared little girl in the distance, causing him to quickly conclude his interview with the confused looking homeless men and immediately turn to see where she was.
After a brief moment of confusion whereby the travelling press entourage hastily looked to see what Ness was interested in, they all then saw the little girl being forced by one of his many loyal men into the disruptively packed police wagon. In a brief moment of clarity Ness was now alarmed at the distress he had unintentionally caused her and hoped that this dark moment would be forever lost to her in time. These feelings of sympathy where fleeting however and passing in and out of his drug infused mind with alarming irregularity, oddly creating an almost absent Ness whom was now devoid of human compassion.
The rest of the group had by now paused around the preoccupied Ness in a silent observation as he looked at the distant unruly police wagon as it was brutally locked up, sealing the petrified little girls face uncomfortably behind some rusted steel bars. He then felt another wave of opium flow over him internally and recalled his grim task that he had set out here to achieve tonight and hastily led the attentive group yet further within the now vacated and silent shantytown. He was relieved to break eye contact with the frightened little green eyed girl for fear of her troubling visage pulling him away from his immensely important task that he was required to see through tonight, the discovery the Mad Butchers lair and his ultimate identification.
A dominating eerie silence now effortlessly ruled the entire area which was once saturated in nothing but a chaotic cacophony of relentless noise and activity. Musil then led Ness and his entourage to a nearby ransacked shanty home and shouted for the sole resident to leave and a the frightened looking man soon emerged from the shadowy interior and left with his head held low, not wishing to gaze upon the brutal Unknowns whom had stormed into his community. As Ness stood by the homes door and curiously watched the frightened man leave whilst clutching his jacket as his sole possession, a reporters camera’s flash erupted from behind him. As the man was immediately taken into custody, a confident Musil then motioned for Ness to look inside at the interesting find that he his partner had discovered and so he walked into the small home to discover a small hole within the wooden floor which led into an unsighted darkened chamber below.
He smiled to himself as he looked into its black interior but did not investigate further because he was confident that he had located the debouched theatre of death that had so eluded him until this point. He then triumphantly came out of the shadows again to join his attentive entourage and looked up as the light warm rain drizzle continued unabated from an open, blood filled red sky above. The determined Ness then gave the signal that meant that the wagons could leave the area so that phase two of his defiant operation could start.
He had already coldly pre-arranged that the terrified inhabitants where all to be taken to the nearest police station, interviewed, fingerprinted, warned of the killer in their midst and finally sent off to the numerous Salvation Army workhouses that littered the city. The relentless Unknowns continued to comb through the ramshackle surroundings for any signs of the Mad Butcher’s hidden workshop of horrors and as Ness stood there for a moment amongst the surrounding chaos, he had a horrible realisation. He wondered what would happen if the hole within the shanty home behind him was not the gruesome abattoir and how this would make him appear within the newspapers, instantly making his heart pound and giving him a panic attack like physical reaction.
This unprecedented thought alarmed him but he had foreseen such a horrendous possibility and had already decided to act upon it with a drastic course of action that would defiantly give him the positive press that he craved for. He would burn the entire shantytown down and purify the entire squalid, crime ridden area with purifying flames and this way he would at least deprive the Mad Butcher of his selected pool of helpless victims. There was also the distinct possibility that he could also destroy his hidden abattoir of evil if it was not the one his men had led him too, thus solidifying his place as the slayer of the insane madman whom had besieged his city for years. He then excused himself from the small group of journalists and then requested that he see detective Musil, whom immediately came running from his nearby partner before Ness spoke to him in a loudly confident manner of authority “Burn it down! Burn it all down!”
A confused looking Musil stood there for a moment, looking at Ness with a blank stare, attempting to take in what he had ordered him to do before Ness reiterated his order in clearer terms so that there would be no misunderstanding “Musil, I gave you a direct order! We have to burn down the shantytown in order to stop the murders and eliminate the Mad Butchers pool of victims! I’ve already made arrangements for the homeless to be put into work houses and told everyone we arrested tonight to leave the area and not return, it’s the only way! Don’t concern yourself with worry because that’s why the firefighters are already here. Now BURN IT DOWN!”
Musil obediently nodded in reluctant agreement before hesitantly replying “Yes sir!” and then ran back to a concerned looking May, whom then both spoke to the nearest Unknown and instantly created a flurry of activity within the other men. A satisfied Ness’s looked on as his harsh orders were being immediately implemented as he saw the numerous lights of flames being lit throughout the darkly lit warren of homes. He then satisfactorily lit up a new glowing cigarette and slowly returned to the group of awaiting journalists and motioned for them to follow him back to where the packed wagons had been only a few moments ago. The last unruly wagon had just left in a cloud of dust with wails of misery emanating from its hellish interior as vagrants screamed their innocence, not knowing what crime they had committed to have warranted such physical abuse.
The coldly oblivious Ness smiled at all the on looking journalists as the numerous screams lessened within the thick and stagnant air. He then removed himself from the disturbed looking group and once again leaned upon the silver Scarab’s curved bonnet, pleasantly watching as his men quickly lit up the homes with flames at various locations within the shantytown. The rampant flames immediately started to burn brilliantly brightly within the poverty stricken shadows of Kingsbury Run’s blood red night, immediately encapsulating its warm embrace throughout their poor domain. Not even the light drizzle of warm rain could impede the new flames slow but steady advance, and that of Ness’s vengeance, upon this god forsaken refuge of crime that was unwittingly acting as the Mad Butchers killing fields.
The merciless hot flames seemed to reach high up into the cloudy patchwork sky above which itself glowed with the fire’s furnace underneath it, like a large ominous glowing blanket that covered the entire area in glowing embers of revenge. Ness and the group of reporters looked on in amazement as his men continually darted from home to home, like little fire flies dancing over a rancid and stagnant swamp. His fireflies then left the immediate area as the purifying flame took hold and completely engulfed th
e shantytown in an utterly unimaginable blaze of glory. The statically still fire brigade watched on in dismay and disbelief as the fire became ever larger and more destructive, destroying all in its unforgiving path until it was a hopeless task to even attempt to stop such an uncontrolled beast of pure devastation. There instinctively initial reaction was to stop the blaze but they were ordered by Musil to stand down, which they reluctantly did so but not without looking at the smiling Ness in disgust and contempt from afar.
Both the concerned Musil and May then also looked covertly at the oddly acting Ness through the corner of their eyes as the famed ex-prohibition agent continually smiled as he took another satisfactory puff on his orange glowing cigarette. He adored watching the flames take hold of the rickety shanty homes which then collapsed in on themselves one by glorious one in a deadly succession of quick destruction. Sparks, glowing embers and smoke filled up the surrounding area as each home collapsed in on itself and a concerned May and Musil were both alarmed to see that Ness appeared to look amused as every home was destroyed and enveloped by his unstoppable flames.
Ness smiled with unbridled joy as the comfortingly vengeful heat from the massive flames caressed his wanting face whilst his maddened eyes where wonderfully lit up with the fire that took immense delight in destroying all within its path. His mood of vengeful delight was only briefly broken when he noticed the child’s broken doll’s head again upon the heated ground as it slowly started to smoulder and melt, until it too soon succumb to his unbiased flame of vengeance. As the girl’s doll’s head became deformed and grotesque due to the nearby fire he curiously looked at it with intrigue, as though he should feel guilty for the trauma he had caused to so many and in such a short space of time.
These feelings however where now vacant from his opium saturated mind and he thanked the opioid drug for releasing him from his conscience so that he could perform this tough task this night. Whilst all others around him watched the spectacle of the raging fire take hold over the shantytown he looked on as the smouldering doll’s head slowly transformed from something once beautiful into a lumpy black mound of burning plastic and poisonous fumes. He then through his cigarette in upon the ground and stomped on it mercilessly as he took little pleasure in watching the poor little girls doll’s head become yet another victim of his own convoluted and dispassionate rage.
The annoyed Ness then shook his head as he could not seem to get the little green eyed girls frightened face out of his troubled mind. He regretted this silly yet emotionally troubling memory of the little frightened girl as he once again attempted to refocus his conflicted thoughts upon the potential demise of the Mad Butcher. If he was indeed hiding amongst the shantytown homes like a rat within his gruesomely dark abattoir hole then this would be his righteous demise amongst the all-consuming flames that now brilliantly lit up the low overhanging clouds.
The preoccupied Ness soon forgot about the little girls plight as another nearby home suddenly collapsed in on itself, leaving nothing but smoke and flame within its wake. He revelled with vengeful delight at seeing such pure and complete destruction of this accursed viper nest of criminal depravity, immensely enjoying the utter demise of the Mad Butcher’s unsightly sanctuary. He then smiled to himself yet again as the unbiased flames did there terrible work and destroyed the flimsy homes of the less fortunate, enjoying the totality of the fires destructive force as his mind silently basked in an ocean of opium.
Far away in the distance and on a secluded grassy hilltop, standing alone by an old deformed and twisted tree, was the large silhouette of a man whom was also transfixed with the wonderful sight of destruction that was developing before him. The unknown man had the unusual company of a large owl sitting tentatively upon his strong arm, eagerly watching with its huge white eyes as the fire dominated the landscape before them. The shadowy man fed the hungry owl with pieces of torn red meat and it greedily gobbled up within its salivating and wanting mouth whilst its talons lovingly gripped his muscular companions arm.
Both shadowy characters where hidden within the tree’s twisted branches that crept over the surrounding dead vegetation like a parasitic virus, bleeding the very life out of the surrounding plants with an unspoken malice of an otherworldly origin. The fire raged unrelentingly below and screams could just be heard upon the warm wind that now caressed the silhouettes face and the owl’s dark feathers in equal measure. Both circular lensed pair of eyes eagerly looked upon the distant details as the fire reflected its unholy glow back upon their separate lenses, solidifying the fear that was being harvested by the unsuspecting lawman below. Both relished in the delight at the fear was being deeply seeded within the unsuspecting community below and poetically by the very man whom had been brought here to instil a sense of safety and security within the city.
This glorious sight was a result of the actions of a desperate man, a man whom had lost all hope and faith not only within the world around him but also within himself. The actions of this faithless man who could only be truly appreciated by another whom adored this palatable taste of reckless carnage and deviant destruction. The misery and pain that such acts of devastation would bring to each individual person whom where involved below would be uniquely adapted in their own beautiful way, tormenting their creators within a vail of secrecy that may take years to ultimately bare fruit. The hopelessly lost man whom ordered such a travesty to occur could possibly even relate to the undeniable endless nature of the empty void that symbolized the madness of the untamed world around them.
The marvellous bright orange glow of the low lying clouds illuminated the fire that raged mercilessly below it with such clarity that it magnified the heats intensity as it sailed upon the warm prevailing winds. Embers fluttered around the night sky as the smell of burning flesh aroused the shadowy man as well as the traumatic cries and screaming as dogs ferociously barked with viciousness and rage. The fear and terror that was spreading throughout the area had a wonderfully distinctive smell that the mysteriously dark stranger then took in in the form of a deep breath, its sacrilegious sweet nectar filling his lungs with its unholy air. Both the large shadowy stranger and his silent feathered companion then smelled this rife fear, terror and hopelessness that saturated the environment and enjoyed the sacred sweet smell of its inevitable suffering.
Then as both eagerly allowed the sight and sound of such tragedy to wash over them in a twisted form of a sacrilegiously and unholy blessing, a malformed and twistedly demented grin then appeared on the strangers shrouded face. It especially immensely enjoyed the distantly desperate cries of a frightened little green eyed girl as she pleaded for her lost mother to return and sobbed because of the scary uncertainty of her dark future without her, which was now already being part written. The future that Ness had unwittingly created for this troubled little girl was now bleak indeed because the stranger would now make her play her part in his devilish games that where being created within his severely warped mind.
The owl then ruffled its large brown feathers in delight as the resulting raw smell of the scared little girl’s unabated fear blissfully permeated the surrounding air and her endless cries echoed on the prevailing blood moon winds. The unseen stranger then fed the owl a human eyeball which it effortlessly tore at with its razor sharp beak before eagerly gulping it down, adoring its freshly expelled juices that now circulated within its salivating mouth. The silent shadowy man then spoke to his winged companion in an otherworldly deep voice as the tree’s shadows refused to reveal his secretive identity “Ah!... Fresh Meat!”
"That such Shantytowns exist is a sorrowful reflection upon the state of society. The throwing into jail of families broken by experience and the burning of their wretched places of habitation will not solve the economic problem. Nor is it likely to lead to the solution of the most macabre mystery in Cleveland's history" — The Cleveland Press
The sparse clouds reluctantly let in the shy sun’s rays as they sporadically glistened off the numerous non-
rusted steel and metal works that saturated the disused train yard. This lonesome location was deeply embedded within the hidden black heart of Kingsbury Run and used by all manner of unscrupulous characters whom made their way to other areas of the United States. The gentle wind gave life to small and short lived dust devils that awkwardly swirled around the old train wrecks that haphazardly littered the area with their long dead carcasses and rusted skeletonized frames.
A lone tumbleweed blew across the dusty railway tracks and rolled underneath a group of derelict boxcars before it then caught the shiny spectator shoe of the eccentrically dressed Merlyo. The unawares detective then desperately attempted to dislodge the troublesome weed as it pulled and tugged on his trousers legs as the wind picked up speed. The detective was hanging silently and precariously under the dirty, oily and rusty underside of an old wooden railway boxcar along with his trusty partner, Zalewski. The struggling Zalewski then thankfully managed to dislodge the troublesome tumbleweed from Merlyo’s leg by using his free foot and both then silently watched it roll away with the dust and back out into the sporadic sunlight.
Both usually dressed detectives then remained deadly silent as a thin and oddly dressed, bald African American man slowly walked past them whilst clutching a multi-coloured wooden baseball bat. The thin man wore some bizarrely distinctive woollen goat leggings which were held up by some red tatty suspenders which in turn hung from his thinly malnourished frame. A tight white and stained vest covered his skinny upper body which further emphasised his malnourished condition due to his ribs showing through the thin cotton. He wore an old unbuttoned black leather waistcoat over his vest and gave the impression of a man whom was not fully sound of mind. On the back of this waistcoat as a crudely stitched image of a bloody sheep’s head which further emphasized the unknown man’s obsession with the four legged herbivore.
The Noir Evil Page 38
