by Suzanne Robb
That last statement in the news made Skye’s mind drift away from the sounds coming from the radio, as she happened to pass the Green Street Animal Clinic.
“Now that,” she thought, “Is an example of a where you would find a serial killer.”
The clinic was a twenty-four hour affair, the only veterinarian’s office in the city offering emergency services during off hours. That, Skye believed, was the only reason she did not lose it and torch the place. There was some real value presented by the clinic in that aspect and even she had been forced to rely on their night-time assistance for one of her pets in the past. Her main fracas with the facility, however, had nothing to do with their regular care and all to do with the murderous Dr. Taurian.
Because there were often times with little activity during the middle of the night, the head vet on staff, a Dr. Odin Taurian, offered euthanasia free of charge to the city run shelter, a monstrous organization who slaughtered strays by the hundreds every year. Since they could avail themselves of his services on a regular basis, the city shelter had cut back on the wait period for the animals it housed. When Skye had originally started working at Strays to Stay, there was a six month amnesty period for animals at the public pound, partially because they lacked the funding required, the availability of someone qualified to euthanize the animals and a means of appropriately disposing the bodies. It meant that the animals were a little over-crowded and the large shelter was often in jeopardy of depleting its food stores for the creatures it housed, but at least they were alive.
Enter Dr. Taurian into the picture, and suddenly the period of amnesty shrank from six months to four. Not only was he a capable professional who offered to do the dirty work for free, he agreed to dispose of the corpses in the clinic crematorium, also without charge. The thought irked Skye. The man riled her even more.
She had only had the misfortune of meeting him once, but that was once more than she considered acceptable. She had been in the process of saving her oldest cat, Ozymandeus, from sure death at that point. She had rescued him from the city pound just in the nick of time. Poor Ozzy never would have had a hope of being adopted, had Skye not come along. He was a scrawny old disinterested tom, with balding patches in his gray fur, a weepy eye and a wheezy meow that was painful to hear. The average person wanted a kitten, or at least a cat who was cute, or loving, or playful. Ozzy liked to lie around all day, hacking up the occasional fur ball and peeing in the corner. He did not have the charm or presence to win over a potential master. All he could count on was possibly a sympathy vote.
He found the sense of pity that he had needed for his salvation in Skye, and she had taken him in, adding him to her menagerie – much to her neighbours’ disgust. Three days after she had first brought him home, his little wheeze had worsened into major breathing problems. Skye awoke to him gasping and rattling, and had rushed him over to the Green St. Clinic.
Skye had been one of only two people waiting and the clinic saw patients primarily on the basis of severity, as opposed to first come, first serve. Dr. Taurian had emerged from his office and after gauging the urgency of the ailing before him, he had escorted Skye and Ozzy into the examination area. Skye was hoping that she would never have to repeat that situation, under any circumstances.
As Skye turned into the worst of rush hour traffic, she considered the doctor with distaste. He had moved to the city a few months ago, in response to the clinic’s search for a veterinarian willing to take on the night shift. He was a handsome broad-shouldered man, with a Scandinavian look to him, pale skin and blond hair. His eyes were surprisingly dark, in comparison, and he spoke with an accent that supported the suggestion of a European origin. That and a first name like Odin. Skye shook her head. Who named their children after Norse gods nowadays?
He had been gentle with Ozzy, it was true, and had remedied his breathing issues, but that alone had not won Skye over. The doctor had been flirtatious in a subdued way, and Skye might have taken an interest in his subtle advances, drawn in by his inviting smile and suggestive gaze, until she had been reminded of his heinous activities by a late night delivery of animals to be euthanized by the city shelter. Ozzy had originally been scheduled to be included in that run. The taste in Skye’s mouth had suddenly soured and she had hurried Ozzy out of the clinic, with no plans on ever returning. She had not seen Dr. Taurian since, much to her relief.
While traffic inched forward in one of the innumerable morning snarls, Skye returned her attention to the radio. The weather was now on, and there was a high UV warning for the weekend. She really did have to replenish her supply of sunscreen, but it would have to wait until the trip home. She would be preoccupied with hosting a luncheon for a couple of Strays to Stay’s major benefactors and she would not have the time to step out around the noon hour. The other option would be to stay in all weekend, and that just would not be fair to her canine companions, Toby and Fred.
Skye pulled into her parking spot and then started towards the building that housed just over three dozen lost or abandoned animals. It was a small shelter, compared to the city pound, but the animals were safe here until they found a home. The receptionist, Marina, waved at Skye as she approached the door.
“Mr. Anderson called to confirm that he and Mr. Conroy will be here at 11:45,” she informed Skye.
“What about Mrs. Fuller?” Skye asked. She was their primary donor, and they were heavily dependent upon her funding.
Marina paled a little, and swallowed nervously before she spoke. Skye knew that did not bode well for her or the shelter.
“She called as well, but she sent her regrets. She said that she realizes we rely on her help, but apparently, she plans on contributing towards an expansion of the city shelter this year.” The receptionist’s voice cracked.
“What? No! That can’t be right. She objects to euthanizing animals. She was whole-heartedly no-kill!” Skye realized the pitch of her voice had risen - a sign of her current desperation.
“I’m sorry, Skye. It seems that someone else convinced her otherwise. Maybe you should phone her and find out more for yourself. She wasn’t prepared to give me any specifics.”
Skye nodded, and gritting her teeth, she headed into her office. She contacted Ms. Fuller, the aged widow of a local industrialist, immediately.
“Hannah, Marina tells me that you won’t be supporting us this year for the sake of the city pound. Is this true? Please tell me she misinterpreted what you told her.”
The older woman at the other end of the line sounded somewhat sorry yet decided.
“I know it’s not something you wanted to hear, Skye my dear, but the fact is that while your shelter is idealistic, it is not realistic. The number of strays in the city is multiplying, and shelters like yours truly cannot accommodate them all. While I’m not fond of euthanasia as a solution, it really is the only practical way to bring their population under control, and we aren’t making best use of our resources with the way things stand. Dr. Taurian says...”
“Dr. Taurian?” Skye interrupted, practically frothing at the mouth at the mention of his name. “That murderer? He’s the one that convinced you to do this? I’m begging you to reconsider, Hannah. He plays at caring about the animals, but he slaughters them heartlessly. Think about it, please. You got your Smitty here. He was housed at our shelter for almost seven months before you adopted him. If he were at the city pound, they would have killed him long before that.”
“I’m well aware of that, my dear, but the fact is that if he had been put down, I would have simply opened my home to some other unfortunate furry soul, one that was equally deserving. There’s no lack of animals needing homes, and not enough people out there wanting pets. I do feel bad about leaving you with a gap in your funding, but my mind is made up. I want the most effective results from my charity dollars. Dr. Taurian has convinced me that this is a humane solution and the best for all involved.”
Dr. Taurian, Skye thought bitterly, more like the Dr. Kevorkian o
f the animal world. The man was more than just a thorn in her side – he was the entire thorn bush, drawing blood from multiple wounds.
She spent almost an hour on the phone with Mrs. Fuller, but did not succeed in changing her mind. Dr. Taurian had bewitched her and clearly had her under his thumb. Why he felt inclined to encourage this expansion, Skye just could not understand. How exactly would it benefit him? Was he some sort of sadist who got an extra kick out of playing volunteer executioner?
She was absolutely drained, as far as her psyche was concerned, when it came time to play hostess at the luncheon for their remaining two benefactors. She put on a happy face, and a gracious smile, and gave it her best. Thankfully, Skye was able to secure their support for another year, and she at least had that to cling to when they finally left. That prevented things from going from bad to worse, but it did not resolve the biggest of her problems. Skye would have to scramble to fill that funding gap left by Mrs. Fuller and Dr. Taurian’s interference as quickly as possible, if at all.
With that idea in mind, she ended up staying at the office long past her regular work hours, phoning every prior donor in the books and appealing to them to back the shelter again. She met with some success, but not enough to make up for the loss of Mrs. Fuller by a significant stretch. Skye realized that she would have to repeat this process for many a night if there would be any hope of making ends meet, not to mention coming up with novel ideas for fundraisers on the weekends. She would be suffering for Dr. Taurian’s meddling, as would be her somewhat neglected pets if she were to put in the additional time that would be required.
It was early evening, just after sunset when Skye finally dragged her tired body back out to her hybrid again. She was so fatigued that she almost forgot to pick up the sunscreen that she had been nagging herself to get. She was already part of the way home when she finally remembered and she had to double back to the pharmacy on Green Street, the last one en route to her house. As she reached for her usual brand and SPF, she heard a voice that made her blood turn to ice in her veins.
Despite only having met him once, Skye would know that velvety tone and enchanting chuckle anywhere. Dr. Taurian – Odin, was making a pre-shift purchase, and chatting up the store clerk while he was there. Skye turned to look and saw him leaning casually up against the counter, sucking the girl in with his winning smile and flirtatious banter. It was shameful, really. The clerk was giggly, and her cheeks were flushed, responding positively to his charms. She was much too young for him, likely jail bait. Skye guessed the girl was seventeen at most.
Skye tried to control her temper as she watched the man wrap the clerk around his little finger and tease her mercilessly, but Skye’s rage boiled and surfaced and she was red-faced and breathing heavily by the time he departed for the clinic. He had probably used similar tactics and flattery to win Hannah over and steal her away. He had exercised his suave charms to take advantage of a lonely old woman, perhaps making her feel a little younger again in the process.
Skye wanted to give him a serious piece of her mind. Better yet, beyond just confronting him, she wanted to spy on him and maybe get some idea why he felt compelled to encourage support for the city shelter in the first place. Most veterinarians despised euthanasia, using it only when an animal was terminally ill or in severe pain. Why was Odin so willing to volunteer his services?
Her exhaustion fell away to adrenaline when she advanced upon the counter to pay for her sunscreen. The clerk’s cheeks were still rosier than normal and the girl still seemed a little flustered as she rang Skye’s purchase through. Tucking the plastic tube away in her purse, Skye headed out onto the sidewalk.
She knew that she should have made her way back to her car, and continued on home to tend to her animals and then fall into bed, but the notion of finding out exactly what Dr. Taurian was up to niggled at her brain and would not let her leave well enough alone. She found herself walking away from her car instead, and towards the clinic.
The place where they incinerated the bodies of the animals lay behind the clinic, carefully constructed to code for medical wastes and located on Green Street specifically for zoning purposes. Skye was suddenly possessed by the idea that if something unusual were going on, evidence would be found waiting for incineration. She approached their crematorium with the intention of playing investigator, but as she reached the rear of the building, she heard the back exit begin to open and she was forced to hide, taking cover next to the incinerator behind a dumpster there.
The door opened, and in the dim glow illuminating the space by the crematorium, Skye could just barely make out the form of Dr. Taurian as he stepped out. He walked a couple of paces forward so then she could see his face from her hiding place and he paused, looking a little perplexed, with his brow creasing and his eyes narrowing as if sensing something in the air. With the slightest of shrugs, he continued, striding over to what appeared to be a basement door, unlocking and opening it, and then descending out of sight.
Skye did not dare move, not knowing how long he would be down there and waited instead for his return. He emerged a few moments later with a box, which he carried over to the incinerator and placed upon the ground, just within her view. There were small shapes within it, flattened and shrivelled, and Skye only barely managed to suppress a cry when she realized that they were dead animals, more than should have easily fit within the box. They did not look the way a euthanized creature should look, but instead appeared to have been drained of all fluid. These bone dry corpses would burn quickly and easily, incinerating in a flash.
Her hand over her mouth, Skye watched as Dr. Taurian tossed the withered little bodies one by one into the crematorium. He then ignited it and flinging the empty box aside, he re-entered the clinic through the back door. Once he was gone, she stepped out and glanced around. There was no way of preserving the evidence that he had discarded in the incinerator, probably fully ablaze by this point, but Skye noted that he had left the basement door unlocked. Perhaps, she thought to herself, she would find more examples of his strange practices there. She crept over to the basement door, and pulled it open.
It was dark inside, the faint light from the back of the clinic extending only a few stairs in. Skye had no idea where the inside light switch would be and she started to descend very slowly and carefully, feeling around at the walls as she went.
Without warning, there was suddenly a painful blow to the small of her back that propelled her forward, like someone landing their foot there with a full force kick. Flailing her arms out in an unsuccessful attempt to grab at an unseen railing, or anything that might be extending out from the wall, she found herself plummeting. When she finally collided with hard cement floor in the blackness, she felt bones crack and break, and excruciating pain. In the shock of the moment, the world faded away.
Skye came around a few moments later, still in complete darkness and horrible agony. She tried to call for help out, but found that she could barely draw in a breath, and her scream came out only as a whimper. She heard quiet footsteps on the stairs behind her, as someone descended into the basement with her.
“Help me,” she pleaded, with her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m badly hurt. I’m sure that I’ve broken something, maybe even my back. Please, you have to help me.”
Skye heard the person approach her and kneel beside her on the floor. Her potential saviour leaned over her, and she felt the person’s breath on her face. It was not warm as she was expecting, however – it was icy cold.
“So, this is how it has to be, Ms. Henshaw. You could not leave well enough alone.”
She recognized that voice, with its velvety tone. Skye flinched at the sound of it, and yelped as the sudden movement launched another searing pain through her body.
“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered hoarsely.
“I never wanted to hurt anyone, understand, just live my life in peace. I fed when I had to, and then this beautiful solution was presented to me, a
n optimal situation considering my background and skill-set. But you had to meddle didn’t you? And now look at how things stand. Pity – I liked you, and more than just because you smelled so...delicious,” Dr. Taurian’s mouth was next to her ear now and Skye could hear him inhaling. Terrified, her heart pounded in her chest and her mouth had gone dry.
“What?” she gasped, little more than a squeak.
“They weren’t enough, you know. I was always so hungry. I needed more, or I might slip again. I didn’t want to slip again. I was hoping the expansion at the city shelter was the answer, but you wouldn’t let it rest, and now you know my secret.”
He paused and she felt a tongue flick out and lick at her ear.
“Ahhh – you’re bleeding,” he moaned, ravenously . It was a deep guttural sound and it made Skye shiver.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Don’t do this...let me go. I won’t tell. I won’t tell.”
“No, you won’t; I’ll see to that. You made this more convenient by coming here. I won’t have to drag you out to Capstick Park . You’ll be much easier to dispose of.”
When Dr. Taurian spoke, his lips brushed her ear, as well as the points of his fangs. Skye cringed, trying to squirm away from him, and again she could barely move without being wracked by pain. She squealed in response, which extended into her first truly audible shriek as he grabbed her and yanked her towards him, nuzzling at her neck and panting.
“A caterwaul,” he insisted. “There are animals screaming down here all the time. They’ll chock it up to nothing but a caterwaul.”
Her tormentor sighed as he lapped at her jaw-line, pressing his body against her. Skye trembled from the hurt and shook from her great gasping sobs.
