As he spoke again, the room fell silent, bowing at his command.
“And the cherry on top? We found this pinned to Gene’s chest, like a slap in the face to the entire department. Like the guy was desecrating the corpse of a fallen soldier,” he said as he drew a photograph from behind his back and pinned it to the board next to Gene’s portrait. It was a close-up of Alexander Hart’s business card, with blood caked on the bottom edge. The corner was bent upward and worn out, like it had been in someone’s pocket. “On the back, it said ‘Courtesy of’ and nothing more. Like a fucking joke. Like he’s taunting us. He’s either lost the last marble rolling around in that empty skull, or he has a death wish. But either way, I don’t care. I want to find this sick fuck.” The room exploded back into that faint roar it was before Captain Cole began speaking. The dozens of different conversations commencing at once were inaudible individually, but there was a collective outrage.
“That’s all I have. Lieutenant?”
“Yeah. Guys, we’re all hands on deck on this one. This guy came after one of our own and killed another innocent, and is tied to a third innocent. Use extreme precaution if you follow any lead, and never go alone. He’s extremely dangerous and has showed he’s not afraid to kill cops. If you do get any leads, tell myself or the Captain, and take Sergeant Davis and Detective Moretti with you. He’s now the lead on this. Captain Cole has already spoken with the media, and this guy’s picture should be out within the next couple of hours. We expect him to be on the front page of tomorrow’s paper, and all over the news by lunchtime and tonight. In the back of the room by the door, there’s a bin to pick up his photo. Everyone needs to take one and keep it on you at all times. We’re also issuing them to the guys on patrol, so everyone should be on the same page. That’s all. Sergeant Davis?”
Sergeant Davis stood up from his front-row chair and turned to face the crowd. “I want this guy dead or in cuffs by tomorrow night. That’s all.”
He was the first to head for the door, followed by the Lieutenant, followed by the Captain. In a mass, everyone stood from their own seats and filed through the glass double doors. Marco stayed in his corner in the back of the room, staring at the photographs. He studied the face of the man responsible for the death of his one and only friend for just a brief time before looking at Gene’s photograph, longing for a hearty pat on his shoulder from the old man. He needed his reassurance and guidance. He needed direction and help. He needed that emotional connection that he had only with him. He was lost, alone, unsure, but mostly he was afraid.
He looked at Gene’s photo for a moment longer, his dry tear ducts finding some leftover moisture, only enough to steam his eyes slightly. He was the last to leave the briefing room.
EIGHT
2012
It was too easy.
In August of 2012, Alexander moved into his new dorm room.
Months prior, there had been a formal investigation, but it was quick and nothing came of it. He, along with his mother, were questioned, but as soon as they looked into Tom’s credit cards, it was open and shut. Nearly all his clothes were missing, and the bedroom was left a mess, as if he left quickly. His credit cards showed he made payments to fly to Indonesia, arranged a car to pick him up at the airport, and had an open-ended room at a resort in Bali. Less than twenty-four hours later, another transaction was made at the DFW Airport for parking. Police tracked the receipt to the south lot and found Tom’s car parked there, cleaned out, unlocked, and abandoned. The investigation concluded here; he clearly had run off to Indonesia to escape life in America. It would make sense, given Tom’s personality. Most people in the public viewed him as a whackjob nutcase, and he was always very high-strung and stressed out. His running away made sense to almost everyone, including Jackie, and it was dismissed immediately. No one even questioned it, and Jackie had access to all of that money, with continued income from his ownership stake in the business he founded. With that money, Alexander was free to go to any college in the world he wanted, but he chose to stay in Texas.
The first semester of his freshman year, he moved into his university’s dorm, and that’s where he met Terry Edmund.
They were quick to make friends. This was partially due to the fact that Alexander was now unburdened by Tom’s tyranny. He was finally free from all of it - free from him completely. Alexander was joyous. He was weird to say the least, but joyous. Terry looked past Alexander’s oddities, and grew quite fond of him quite quickly. This was a common effect with college students. Close proximity and alcohol tend to make people friends that wouldn’t normally be friends.
And for a while, for a few years even, Alexander’s urges were suspended. He didn’t feel the need to release stress on other people. For a while, he thought he was cured.
---
2014
It took Alexander only two years to complete both his Associate’s and Bachelor’s degrees. For two years straight, he tirelessly devoted all of his time to his studies. He took the maximum hours each semester, including summer, ensuring he was on the fastest track to graduation. Additionally, he tested out of several classes, especially during his Associate’s program. Most of the courses that were intended as basics were easy to test out of immediately, and he was allowed to completely skip them.
By the time Terry was graduating with his Associate’s degree, Alexander was graduating with his Bachelor’s. At this point, Alexander drew the conclusion that college was a joke. He decided there was nothing to learn from it. He was being taught subject he basically already knew, by people less intelligent than him, whom had never really practiced their individual fields. It was a waste of his time and a waste of his talents. After completing his Bachelor’s, he urged Terry to drop out with his Associate’s and go into business with him.
He made Terry see his point of view. Under his leadership, Terry wouldn’t need to go to school any longer. He made Terry confident in his own knowledge of business and finances in general, and Terry was utterly confident in Alexander’s genius with computers, and genius in general. Then, when Alexander offered to fully financially back the business as a startup, he was sold. He left school, much to the dismay of his wife, Zoey, and his parents, and went into business with his best friend of two years.
Edmund & Hart, they named it.
---
2015
Edmund & Hart was a massive hit. The entire premise of the business was in the same realm as others like it, but their services were unmatched to that of anyone else. It was the fastest-growing business of 2015, and it made the both of them massively wealthy overnight.
However, by the summer of 2015, dark urges returned to the front of Alexander’s fantasies. A different kind of urge, though. Although his life was stressful from the bustle of everyday life, he wasn’t tempted to bash anything in with a club, as he had with his stepfather. Instead, he sought a deeper connection.
The sex drive that had been nonexistent as a teenager because of Tom had more than made up for itself by this point. Since that part of his life had been removed, he had come to realize that his dark urges had taken a bit of a twist. But more than that, he needed a deeper connection with a woman, which was nearly impossible for him to create. Most women would not be attracted to him, as he had ballooned into the body of a fat person in a mere two years. He had been skinny when he started college, but since his freshman year, until this point, he had nearly doubled his weight. On top of his unappealing figure, he was socially awkward. He was unable to organically form conversations even at a basic level, let alone anything deeper than small talk. But he yearned for it, anyway.
By the summer, his urges became too much to bear. He was unable to find love the normal way, so he took the forceful approach. But being a genius, he only took very meticulously calculated risks. He thoroughly planned every aspect of his sick and inhumane plans, feeling no remorse for any of the details along the way.
First, he needed seclusion. He needed a place of his own, away from
the nosy neighbors, away from eyes drawn to suspicious behavior. It was about time he moves from that tiny house, anyway. In efforts to obtain this seclusion, he contacted the local realty office and inquired about real estate near the city, but with quiet acreage. He was given a tidy list of plots of land mere miles from the city, just off the highway, with plenty of room to be alone.
Next, he contacted a group of contractors; he avoided contacting any construction companies directly, because most of them kept detailed records. A group of unaffiliated contractors would be hard to track down, should that ever be a concern. Alexander gave them his very detailed requests after purchasing the land. He required a wooden cabin of sorts, and he wanted it built far from the road, as far back on his land as they could go. It was to be perfectly square with four even walls. The inside was to open into a long and narrow hallway, leading directly into his basement. On the right-hand side of the hallway was to be the kitchen and living room, and the left-hand side was to be the bedroom and bathroom.
After having the cottage built in practically no time, he installed some upfits to security. He added a deadbolt to the outside of the front door, keeping anything in that he didn’t want to get out. He also added bars to every window, ensuring nothing got in or out that way either. On every wall of the outside of the house were security cameras, ensuring that he could see anything outside before they could see him.
When all was said and done, and the project was finally finished, Alexander was free to go about his duties. And just in time, too, as he had already chosen his prospect. Her name was Alexandria, and he’d known her from college. They first met in class and bonded over how similar their names were, but never made it past that stage. They quickly drifted apart and fell out of touch with the start of the new semester and new class schedule. She was perfect because he had seen her as a skinny woman, and she was beautiful. However, in the couple of years since, she had packed on weight and come to the realization that she must lower her standards in men. Perhaps her standards were low enough to give Alexander a window of opportunity. That’s what he was hoping, at least.
The vetting process was very detailed, and it spanned over the course of several weeks. Alexander would leave from work and drive to the coffee shop that sat directly adjacent to her office building. From there, he would sip his cappuccino, wait, and watch. Eventually, she would come out of the front of her building and walk along the sidewalk, until reaching the employee parking lot that was a bit of a way from the building itself. She’d hop in her six-figure car and commute home.
She lived just on the outskirts of the city, in a neighborhood that wasn’t quite rich and wasn’t quite poor. It was quiet enough, though, and quiet is all she desired. She lived alone; no roommate, no husband, no family. Alexander would sit out in his car and wait until the sun fell, and once it did, he would edge up to the house and peer through any window that would allow him a view. She’d usually have dinner in front of her TV not long after the sun set, then retire to her bedroom. Lights out by nine.
After several weeks of following the same routine with her, he’d planned his strike. He knew exactly where she parked every day, so he’d stage a run-in. He’d be walking along the sidewalk at just the right time, and they would bump into each other next to the employee lot. They would have a talk, and he would boast. He would impress her with how quickly he graduated, the success of his business, et cetera. After successfully sparking her interest, he’d convince her to allow him to buy her a coffee, and once he did that, he was able to slip the drug inside of her drink. He would walk her to her car before the drug built up and worked entirely, then slip her in the passenger’s seat and drive to the switching point, where he switched vehicles. He’d move her from her own car to his, then he’d get the two of them safely back to the cabin.
It all took extreme planning and perfect execution, but he was able to pull it off successfully. And so, he had his first victim.
He had dug out a hole in his basement deep enough to where she could not reach the bottom step and walk up to the entryway. He’d supplied her with a bucket for when nature calls, and a routine feeding schedule. He made sure to deprive her of food just enough to where she quickly dropped weight. And once she had finally dropped her weight and become the skinny Goddess he’d known in college, she was perfect. She was beautiful to him once again.
Then he raped her.
There was no way of softening the sound of it. There was no way to excuse what he’d done, and continued to do. He had tried to rationalize it, or convince himself it was out of love, or that she loved him. But he knew all along what the proper word for it was: rape.
He’d drug them, kidnap them, starve them until they were skinny, and then he’d rape them. Alexandria was the first, but she was not the last.
---
At first the cabin in the country was only an escape. It was a place to harbor his bad habit, a place to dwell in his darkness. But after indulging for long enough, it was the only place he was happy to be. The city had become stressful; the constant flash of lights, the sound of airplanes coming in to land, the faint and distant sirens sounding throughout the night.
After a few short months’ time, even shopping for groceries had become a nightmarish chore. Fighting Dallas traffic, parking in a crowded lot and walking up into a massive building, all the while walking next to, near, and in the general vicinity of strangers, became a task scarier and more unnerving than anything else. Eventually the same feelings became true for every other task: for driving to work (or driving in general, really), for walking into the lobby of his building, for sharing an elevator on the way up, for being bombarded with an array of questions throughout the day, for interacting with people in general. The stress of it all thumping in his skull was too much too bear, and the pressure was only released when he was in solitude.
That was when he decided to make the move into his new home full-time. He gave Terry his notice that he would no longer be commuting to the office, and all his work would be forwarded through his email and done at home. He insisted that his paychecks be converted to direct deposit, as he refused to share his new address with anyone, and he certainly refused to leave his house to drive into the city to pick them up.
At home, there was more to tend to. After killing Alexandria - gently, of course - he discovered that the urge to burn things was back with a vengeance. The desire to smell the burning hair and flesh only grew hotter the more he anticipated it. So, at the bottom of the pit, he set her to fire and let her roast, taking in all of the wonderful senses. The sound of the cracking and popping, the smell of singed hair combined with burning flesh formed an aroma that can only be achieved one way - an incredibly satisfying and stimulating way. After the small fire had run its course, he buried her underneath the dirt mounded in the corner from when he had first dug the hole. Fortunately, the hole was still plenty deep enough to hold another girl.
And this pattern continued. Kidnap, starve, rape, kill, burn, bury, repeat. Each girl went on top of the other, until the body count became too great. After three girls, he realized he needed to either move the girls, or alter the basement in some way to make for more room. However, this was their final resting place, and there was something peaceful about that. He wanted to keep them close. So, alter the basement it was, and he chopped the wooden stairs off halfway down. It didn’t make the girls go any deeper in the dirt, but it at least kept the next one from reaching high enough to escape.
But most importantly, it bought him enough space for one more girl. The girl of his dreams, the girl he’d had his eye on since the beginning. The time was right, finally.
Alexander knew he couldn’t go on living this way forever; all serial killers are caught eventually. Besides, he wasn’t even happy. He knew he was a monster, and he knew he was a bane on society. He wasn’t happy alone, and he wasn’t happy with people. He wasn’t happy at work, and he wasn’t happy at home. He wasn’t happy knowing he was who he was, and he knew he nev
er would be.
But at least he could go out the way he wanted to: with the perfect girl and a legacy.
---
Thursday, January 21st
I am well-rested and comfortable, but groggy. It feels like my body still hasn’t quite caught up to its new schedule, and it certainly hasn’t recovered from before.
Although I know this is all for the betterment of myself, I’m not naive. I know it’s wrong to starve myself. I know it’s unhealthy and looked down upon, but I can’t deny its results. Already I’m liking what I see in the mirror - but I suppose ‘like’ is relative. I still hate it, but I love it compared to what it was before. It’s only been about three weeks and the results have been marvelous, and I think Alexander has really noticed.
He looks at me a certain way now. A look of desire, of lust. Like he wants me, but won’t let himself have me. It’s a look I crave, and one I’ve never actually been on the receiving end of until now.
I’m not at all shocked to see the clock is reading well after one p.m. But I’m not worried. After all, here I am, taken care of. No job to run off to, house cleaning to take care of, dishes to do, or meals to prepare.
“Zoey, come in here!”
I hear his shout coming from behind the closed bathroom door, just as I step out of the shower. I turn the knob all the way to the left, shutting off the water. The room is like a sauna with steam so dense, you could almost grab a handful. I’ve always liked hot showers.
Quickly, I dry off and dress myself, making myself somewhat decent for him. Without taking too long, I go to him.
“It’s good to see you’re awake. And stunning, I might add.”
His compliment makes me blush.
“What did you need, Alexander?”
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