by Marcus Brown
She opened the file and pulled out the pictures one by one. “When will this nightmare end?”
“He’s cut into them whilst they’re alive and they couldn’t do a thing about it. If you look through the pics, you’ll see the marks around their hands and feet. Seems like they were bound with plastic cable ties.”
“Sick bastard,” she said, flicking through the images.
“The fingernails and toenails were removed ante-mortem.” He shook his head. “Never in all my years here have I seen anything like this. They would have experienced pain I can’t even describe.”
“You emphasized the word, here. Why?”
“Because I’ve seen this sort of thing before, back in my homeland. My people are suspicious by nature and some still practice Witchcraft. The upside-down, or inverted cross is a symbol of the Satanic Church, but is also used to refer to the manner of Saint Peter’s crucifixion; the inverted cross used as he considered himself unworthy to be crucified in the same manner as Jesus.”
“What the…” Tabitha said.
“Although, I prefer to think the former is the more accurate interpretation of the symbol carved into the bodies of our victims.”
“This is madness,” she stated. “Something about all of this is niggling me. I feel like we’re being deliberately misled.”
“What’s given you that impression all of a sudden?” Trey asked.
“We’ve got a killer leaving origami witches’ hats inside the victims. Religious iconography carved into their chests, removal of multiple organs, bodies drained of blood… I just don’t know. Is the killer a religious zealot, or is he, or she, some sort of Satanist?”
“Aren’t they one and the same?”
“No, Trey. I don’t believe so. If what you say is right and the upside-down, or inverted cross has two meanings, what is the killer trying say to us? What’s the significance in removing the fingernails or the toenails, or even the removal of certain organs, or posing the bodies? There’s something higgledy-piggledy about it all.”
“Huh,” Trey said, glaring at her.
“In my experience, serial killers are methodical, but these killings don’t add up at all. Why carve crosses into the victims to reference some long dead saint? Or reference a satanic ritual, and then remove the organs, or something as random as finger and toe nails? There’s no logical reasoning behind it that I can fathom.”
“You’ve lost me, Tabitha.”
“I don’t think our killer is either a zealot or a satanist. No, the more I think about it, our killer is torturing people because he, or she enjoys it, gets off on it if you will. It’s like two people in conflict. Two different ideals.”
“Putting it like that, I think you’re right,” Trey agreed.
“I don’t think we’re looking for one person, Trey. This is the work of two people with very different ideas and reasons for the kill.”
Tabitha stood up.
“Are you leaving already?” Trey asked,
“Yeah, do you mind if I take this file with me? I need to pop and see the chief, let him know the latest findings. I need to tell him I think we’re looking for two people.”
“No problem. I got a new case in this morning. Unexplained death by all accounts.”
“Are you free tonight?” Tabitha asked
“Yeah, should be free for eight or so, but I can let you know. Why do you ask?”
“I fancy a drink. This case is getting to me, and plus, it would be good to pick your brains some more on your culture’s use of witchcraft.”
“You’re on. I’ll swing by Moonlight Manor and pick you up when I’m done.”
“See you later.” She sauntered out of the room.
“Yes,” he whispered, punching the air.
Chapter Seventeen
His eyes rolled back into his head and he groaned as he sent his seed flooding into her.
Slapping her fat backside, it was his signal to tell her that he was finished and that she should move away.
Within seconds, he would feel repulsed at being intimate with her, but he couldn’t let her see it. He hadn’t finished with her, just yet.
Miriam pulled the sheet from underneath and covered herself as he turned the lamp on at the side of the bed. She jumped off the bed and rushed into the en-suite bathroom.
He caught a glimpse of the red raw skin on her back
Miriam was a germ phobic and scrubbed her skin from the neck downwards with a wire wool brush.
He took great pleasure in scrubbing the parts of her naked body she couldn’t reach, enjoying the anguished sobs coming from her as her sins were rubbed away layer by layer.
“Did you enjoy that, Miriam?” he asked.
“Yes, my darling. I love the feel of your big cock inside me.”
He would never have vaginal intercourse with her, not wanting to risk impregnating her. The mother of his children had to remain pure, virtuous even, and this disgusting slob would never be deserving.
“Hurry up, Miriam,” he ordered. “We don’t have much time left, and there’s plenty for us to do.”
“I’ll be a few minutes, darling,” she replied, over the noise of the water falling in the shower.
He smiled as he could hear her moaning in pain. He hoped the hot water was scalding Miriam’s red raw skin.
“I’ll put the pies in the oven. You come down and relax for the evening and I’ll wait on you. Your wish is my command,” he said in his false sugary sweet voice.
“You’re too good to me,” she replied.
He climbed out of the bed and pulled his underpants on first, then his jeans. He grabbed a clean jumper from the top drawer and made his way downstairs.
Chapter Eighteen
After a less than successful meeting with the chief, she photocopied the files, placing the original file in her desk drawer and locking it then placing the copies in her briefcase and heading home.
She didn’t have time to drive, so checking there was nobody about, she snuck into the Ladies toilets, focused on where she needed to go, and blinked, finding herself standing in her spacious kitchen.
Tamara jumped with fright as her sister appeared in front of the Fireclay sink.
“You frightened the life out of me, Tabi,” she complained.
“Sorry, but I was in a rush. I’ve got a meeting later.”
“At this time of…” she paused. “…hang on a minute, you blinked again.”
“Yes, yes, I know what I did. I’m a hypocrite, I admit it, so save the lectures.”
“Wait ‘til I tell Tally,” she crowed. “You’ll never hear the last of it.”
“Did I hear somebody mention my name?” Talia called from the front door.
Tabitha rolled her eyes, listening to Talia’s ridiculously high heels striking the marble floors, knowing she was about to endure a ribbing from her haughty sister.
Talia entered the kitchen. “I thought my ears were burning. Fess up,” she said.
“What on earth are you wearing, Tally?” Tabitha choked out, trying not to laugh.
“Don’t you start. I’ve already had an ear bashing from the Fashion Police over my style choices of late,” she said, gesturing toward Tamara, “so shut it.”
“Tabi blinked home,” Tamara interjected, changing the subject.
“Well, well, well. That is a turn up for the books,” Talia added, grinning like the cat who’d got the cream and rubbing her hands together. In a blink of an eye, her expression altered and she glared at Tabitha. “You’re up to no good, admit it.”
“I wanted to get these files to you as soon as possible, is all,” Tabitha lied.
“Bullshit,” Talia replied.
“She has a meeting,” Tamara added, smirking and using her fingers as quotation marks.
“A meeting, is it? With whom may I enquire?” Talia asked, smirking.
“With Trey, just to go over the autopsy reports.”
“A date with the Doctor of Death, you mean,” Talia said tri
umphantly. “Come off it, Tabi, you know we can’t lie to one another, and you’re lying through your magically enhanced gnashers.”
“It is not a date. We’ve had a busy day and need a catch up. Simple as. Now, before I give you this file, shut your mouths and come and help me find something to wear.” Tabitha realised what Talia had said about her teeth. “And, I’ll have you both know -- my teeth have not been enhanced magically, or otherwise.”
“Knew it,” Tamara said, jumping up and down excitedly, then giving Talia a high five. “A date. Finally. That’s five hundred quid you owe me,”
Tabitha glared at her sister’s, not appreciating the roasting. “What did I just say about shutting one’s mouth?”
“Sorry,” Talia said, “now come on, it’ll take a while to make you look halfway decent. Tammy rush downstairs and see if we have a spell for crow’s feet, sagging jowls and split ends,” she said cattily.
Tabitha glared at her sister, stuck her middle finger up and stomped out of the kitchen.
“Ouch,” Talia said.
Tamara slapped her hand across her mouth, trying to stifle the laughter and Talia grinned wickedly.
*
“Not bad if I do say so myself,” Talia said.
“Stunning,” Tamara added, admiring the view. “You scrub up well, Tabi. You really should make more of an effort.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I went out every day looking like a complete dog,” Tabitha replied.
Tamara knew she’d put her foot in it, but didn’t bother to try and backtrack.
“You know, seeing this new you, I fancy a change myself. It’s hard work trying to differentiate ourselves all the time and keeping our own identity. What do you think about a deep auburn?”
“I don’t have time for this, Tammy. I need to show you the files downstairs. Trey will be here soon.”
“It won’t take long,” Tamara added, pulling the bobble out of her hair and shaking it loose to its full length. “Yes, that will do nicely,” she said as her hair began to change colour from the roots to the tips. It changed from its flat light brown to a deep glossy auburn colour.”
“Nice,” Talia said, approvingly, “but you need to do something with your brows. There should be two, not one,” she joked.
“To coin a famous phrase, be a witch, not a bitch,” Tamara replied stroking her fingers over her eyebrows.
Tabitha and Talia watched as her eyebrows changed colour, matching her new hair colour.
“All done,” Tamara declared. “What do you think?”
“Lovely,” Tabitha answered. “Now, I’ve got fifteen minutes until Trey gets here. Downstairs now!”
Talia grabbed her sister’s hands and blinked them to the kitchen.
“What’s so important?” Tamara asked, realising she was now standing in the kitchen.
“Whilst I’m gone, have a look, but I’m warning you, some of the pictures aren’t particularly pretty.”
“I don’t wanna see them, Tabi,” Tamara said, “but Tally can look whilst I prepare the spell.”
“A spell for what?” Talia asked.
“I’m gonna cast a spell and ask the cauldron to show us an image of the killer and see if we recognise him or her.”
“Ooh, fabulous idea, Tammy,” Talia said, “but I don’t hold out much…”
Tabitha’s phone rang. It was Trey.
“Are you here already?” she asked. A look of disappointment settled over her face. “Oh right, okay. Stay there and I’ll be right over.”
“Don’t tell me he’s cancelling your date?” Talia said, looking furious. “I’ll curse him with impotence and genital warts for the rest of his miserable life.”
“Don’t you dare, Tally. It really wasn’t a big deal.”
“Then why are you all dressed up like you’re going to the Met Ball?” Talia replied.
“Leave it, Tally. Something important has come up. I gotta go.”
“How are you going to get there, you blinked home, and you won’t drive either of our cars?”
“I’ll blink back to the office and collect my car. It’s not difficult,” she said, trying to mask the crushing disappointment she felt. It was a date, she knew they were right, but it wasn’t meant to be.
Chapter Nineteen
He heard her coming down the stairs, her big fat stompy feet striking every step as she descended.
“Miriam, I’m down in the basement,” he called. “Come and join me.” It wasn’t a request, but a command.
“But what about dinner?” she asked. “It’s nearly eight o’clock and I should eat.”
“We can eat down here tonight,” he replied.
“Oh, okay,” she answered grumpily.
“I’m in the back room,” he called out.
It wasn’t a room he permitted her to go in. It was his secret room, but he was willing to share it all with her tonight. She deserved it after all that hard work.
She was dressed in fluffy pyjamas with little pictures of cartoon elephants dotted all over the fabric.
Elephants, he thought. How utterly appropriate.
“What’s that for,” she asked, glancing around him.
“It’s for my next victim.” He turned around, admiring the seven-foot inverted wooden cross that was lying flat on the floor.
“I’ve got an idea who we can test it on, my darling.”
“Oh, really? Who hasn’t cleaned up properly this time?” He teased her, manipulating her thoughts, knowing a speck of dust or a fingerprint on one of the polished chrome salt cellars would set her anxieties off.
“I’ve got a new girl working the late shift tomorrow. If we wait ‘til the chef has finished for the night, she’ll be alone. It’ll be easy, I promise.”
“You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you, Miriam?” He walked over and stroked her face.
“I’m hungry,” she replied.
“We can eat soon. The pies are cooked and cooling over there, you see?” He pointed to the makeshift table on the other side of the room. “But before we tuck in, I want you to try out the cross, just to make sure there are no problems tomorrow.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want me to do with the cross?”
“Well, as punishment to your little worker for her uncleanliness, I’m going to tie her to the cross before we send her on her way.”
“Unclean girl,” Miriam muttered. “Leaving that dirty cup in the dishwasher.
“Yes, Miriam. She won't be making that mistake again. If she’d done her job properly, you wouldn’t have to scrub yourself until you bled, would you?”
“No,” she replied, staring into space.
“So, we can try it out quickly now then you can look forward to teaching her a lesson she won’t forget. It will be our best yet, and this time, you get to decide how she dies.”
Miriam turned and smiled lovingly at him. She stroked his bearded face. “You’re too good to me.”
“I know. Now take off your clothes for me. I like to look at your naked body,” he lied.
She stripped out of her clothes and allowed him to lead her to the cross.
“Now, don’t panic, but I’m going to tie you to it.”
“Okay,” she agreed, sounding a little wary, “but use the plastic ties. They’ve been sterilized.”
“Whatever you want, Miriam. This is just a little dress rehearsal and won’t take long at all, then you can stuff your face with as many pies as you want.”
Miriam lay down on the cross and closed her eyes as he leant over and secured her hands palm up. Next, he secured her feet.
“Are you comfortable, Miriam?” he asked.
“Yes, but please hurry. I’m hungry -- I should have eaten by now.”
“All in good time, Miriam,” he said, licking his fingers then sliding them inside her vagina.
She moaned as he thrust his fingers in and out roughly. It was the first and last time he would touch Miriam in her sacred place, but he wanted to g
ive her something to remember as he sent her on her way.
He pulled his fingers out and glared as her head lolled to the side, her eyes closed as if she was trying to relive the moment.
“Now, I’m going to wrap this cloth around your eyes, Miriam.”
Sounding alarmed, she lifted her head and her eyes flew open. “Is it clean?”
“Yes, my darling. I promise you.”
She appeared to relax again and leant her head against the wooden beam, allowing him to slip the cloth underneath. He tied it gently.
Climbing to his feet, he walked over to the makeshift table and picked up the plate, returning and kneeling at Miriam’s side. He reached up to the shelf and retrieved four rusty six-inch long nails and a hammer.
“A little bite to eat whilst we rehearse, Miriam?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” she answered, licking her lips.
He picked up a pie from the plate and broke a section off, the filling spilling out.
“Open wide,” he said, dropping a big piece of pastry and what appeared to be a slither of kidney into her open mouth.
He watched as the fat greedy wench chewed her food and reached for a nail. With the other hand, he picked up the hammer and with a swift motion slammed the nail through the palm of her left hand and into the wood.
Miriam’s reaction was instantaneous. She tried to spit the food out of her mouth, but began to choke. A mixture of choking sounds and screams echoed around the basement room as he spoke to her.
“More?” he hissed, picking up a handful of pie and ramming it into her slack mouth.
He enjoyed the choking sounds she made, but more so, the muffled screams as he hammered the second nail through her right hand.
She tried to move, the plastic ties cutting into her skin. He smiled as he spotted the split skin on her wrists. Her blood flowed down onto the cross.
Shoving more and more food into her mouth, he smeared the pie over her face and up her nostrils. He knew she couldn’t breathe.
He moved toward the lower half of her body and smirked as he drove the nails through the tops of both her feet.
