by David Salkin
“Does monsieur wish to stay a long time?” she asked with a coy smile. “Indeed,” he answered, and followed her to her small room. He entered the room and inhaled deeply. She had been a busy beaver indeed in this very room. “How many tonight?” he asked her.
“You are my very first,” she lied. He smiled and didn’t bother to comment. He sat on a small three-legged stool in the corner of the tiny room. The only furniture was a small bed and a counter with a wash basin and towel. He watched her slowly undress, allowing the heavy dress to fall off around her ankles, and was pleased to see her naked beneath. She knelt before him and pulled off his tall black boots. He allowed her to remove his clothes, standing when she asked, so she could unbutton his pants and make him naked like her. Then she went back to her knees in front of him and began doing something that no other woman had had ever done for him before. He spoke Prussian for the first time in years as she expertly worked his manhood, making it feel very alive indeed for the first time in over fifty years.
“Mon Dieu,” she whispered, as he grew. She looked up at him. “It is so big.”
“Do you like it?” he asked. Before dying and being reborn, he had known only one other woman, a farm girl in his village that he fucked before going off to war. It had been hurried and secretive, and all too quick.
She squeezed his shaft and worked it up and down. “I love it. I want it inside me,” she cooed. They made love that night like two humans, and Olmer actually lay with her after several hours of lovemaking. She was amazed at his strength and ability to keep going, even after she had lost count of her own orgasms. She finally begged him to stop before she couldn’t walk, and she passed out with a large smile on her face. Olmer had watched her fall asleep and listened to her heart beat and breathing slow as she drifted off. To his own amazement, he was satisfied not to drink her blood. He was still full from the evening before, and was enjoying the warmth and smell of her body. He closed his eyes and listened to her blood pumping, wondering what she tasted like, but controlling his urge for the first time ever.
She awoke the next morning and smiled at him. “You were amazing,” she said. “I will give you a free one if you wish.”
He smiled, and she surprised him by getting out of bed and pulled a bedpan from under their bed. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said, and squatted over it to urinate in front of him. When she was finished, she covered it and slid it under the bed. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, “Did you need to relieve yourself as well?”
“Only with you,” he smiled, and she climbed back into bed to begin again.
Olmer stayed with her for four days and nights. He might have stayed forever and cancelled his plans for America altogether, but on the fifth night, the animal came out. She was, as he had guessed, the most delicious thing he had ever eaten.
· · ·
Adam opened his eyes with a start. He looked around the room and remembered where he was. New York. 2011 A.D. Renee was long dead. Eaten by him. He looked down at the fur coat and was surprised to see that he had ejaculated all over it. He hadn’t done that since… he couldn’t even remember. His thoughts turned immediately to Sara.
Fifteen
VWX
Sixth Precinct
It was Wednesday morning. Roy’s day off. But if the Captain could come back from vacation, then he and Lieutenant Joe could give up a Wednesday. The three of them had gathered up their files and drove downtown into the Village for a special meeting with Tim and several of his officers. Chief Schrieffer was going to be sitting in as well. They entered the Precinct carrying boxes full of files, and found the conference room full of cops, including Tim and the Chief. After introductions and pleasantries, the eleven of them sat down at a large conference table.
Tim began the meeting. “Thank you for taking the drive downtown, and thanks to the chief for allowing us to set up this special task force. We are still not officially calling this a serial killer, but we are looking at
• 84 • a possible connection between unsolved murders and missing persons cases dating back several decades.” He looked at the chief. (See? He was playing nice and not saying the obvious, that some whackjob had been killing and eating people all over New York for fifty years.)
At this point, I’d like to turn the meeting over to Heather Connell, who will catch us up on some of the forensic evidence she has put together for us. Heather is from here in the Sixth, but has worked with the State Police and the feds on some very large cases. Heather— please…”
The woman stood up and picked up a rolled up map, which she tacked to the wall. She was in her forties, and a no-nonsense type of professional. She was also the only woman in the room.
“Gentlemen, this is a map of Manhattan showing every unidentified DB in red, every last known missing person location in blue, and every murder of ‘unsolved origin’ in black.”
“What’s unsolved origin? Open files?” asked one of the men. “Unknown weapon. The case may have been closed, but it was never solved and the cause of death was undetermined at the time. Quite frankly, these are most likely victims that were bitten and sucked dry like your apartment victim, but no coroner was going to sign off on that.”
“So this has happened before a bunch of times and no one said anything about it, like, ‘hey—I think we have some kind of wild animal eating people in New York’?” asked Roy incredulously.
“Pretty much. One of the files was from here in the Sixth. The cop still works here in records. He’s got thirty years in and is past retirement age, but he’s so good no one bothers him. Anyway, I went to go see him. I asked him if he remembered the case. He turned white. No kidding. He actually looked sick. He told me a long story which I will abridge for you. Basically, he and his partner found a woman that he said looked half eaten. She had no ID, and they had zero leads. His description of what he saw was so detailed that I didn’t need pictures. It made an impression on him, know what I’m sayin’? Anyway, I asked him what happened to the case. It was worked for months, no leads, no nothing, and eventually just put aside. It was ruled a homicide, and she bled to death, but the coroner said that animals must have worked the body after she died. The cop said no way. He says the bites were the cause of death, but the examiner at the time is dead for ten years, and I can’t ask him about it.”
“Why was the cop so sure it was the cause of death?” asked one of the men.
Tim jumped on him before Heather could answer. “For those of you not present at the last crime scene, the one we call ‘Goth Girl’, you wouldn’t understand—but let me tell you, looking at that victim, there was zero doubt about the cause of death. The killer bit her, sucked her dry of her blood, and ate a few bites of her here and there. He also tore her up pretty good with some type of claw device. She had what looked like tiger-paw claw marks on her body. It didn’t even look like a human attack—more like an animal.”
Heather chimed in. “That’s exactly what Charlie down in records said. That it looked like a wild animal attacked her and killed her. The only reason they knew it wasn’t an animal was because a witness called the police when the woman started screaming. A man was seen running from the scene. He had two legs, two arms and a head. It was human. The scene sure didn’t look like it, though.”
One of the officers raised his hand. “Excuse me. When you say, ‘he sucked her dry of her blood’, you mean he drained it with something, right? I mean, he didn’t drink a whole body’s worth of blood, right?”
Heather and Tim looked at each other and made a face that read: “Your guess is as good as mine”. She answered the question first. “Look. As far as we know, he could have used a weapon that was made to look like teeth marks or claw marks. He could have drained the fluids with a hose. Anything is possible, I suppose. But the coroner’s report, and the last one on Goth girl was very thorough, did not mention any marks that might have come from tools. In fact, when I spoke with the doctor, he was pretty specific about the teeth marks matching other ‘bite vi
ctims’. He refers to them as bite victims, not tool marks or sharp weapon marks. As far as I am concerned, this guy is eating and drinking human tissue and blood.”
“But an entire body’s worth of blood? Isn’t that impossible? I mean, the guy would puke, wouldn’t he? There was very little blood in the crime scene photos I saw,” asked another cop. “What human could drink that much blood, even if he was crazy, and keep it down?”
“Maybe he takes it with him for later? Drains it into a bag or something?” asked the first cop.
“I have no idea, and right now, that is not our focus. We have to assume, for the time being, that we are dealing with a male subject, approximately sixty-five to seventy years old, who is capable of biting, clawing and eating other human beings in order to ingest their tissue and fluids. That about sum it up, Tim?” asked Heather.
“I’m glad you said that,” he replied. “If I had said that, I know they’d all think I was crazy.”
“Sixty-five to seventy years old?” screamed one of the cops.
“Yes, I know that sounds as bizarre as the rest of it, but the fingerprints are a match to an open murder case from 1959. I double checked and tripled checked the prints. They are a match. And unless this guy breaks the rules of ‘no two prints alike’, he is the same killer.” “That’s ridiculous,” said one of the officers under his breath.
Heather folded her arms and looked at the floor for a moment before speaking. “Look. I have worked some pretty unusual cases. So has Tim and so have most of you. New York City gives you a sampling of everything. But honestly, I have never seen anything like this. This breaks every rule of logic there is. I have decided to just examine the facts for what they are each time something comes in. Don’t filter it with your brain for being logical or normal or fitting into any pattern you have ever seen, okay? Just look at it with an open mind and try to stay sharp and focused. Just gather evidence and let the picture come into focus.”
Tim rubbed his face. “Listen up, everyone. What Heather just said can’t be overstressed. You are all experienced investigators. You’ve been through a lot of cases—seen a lot of crazy shit, pardon my French. You need to think outside the box on this one. And you need to keep this investigation entirely confidential.”
At that point, the chief stood up and everyone shut up. “Gentlemen, and lady, this case is going to be worked by the people in this room and only in this room. We are not releasing any information until we have more to go on, and we are not calling this a serial killer yet. While this is certainly starting to look like a connected string of incidents, I personally find it hard to believe that a cannibal killer can stay under the radar for fifty years while eating victims every week or two. If one word of this investigation leaks to the press, I will find out who it is, and that person will be walking a beat in Harlem until the end of time. Are we all understood? Well?”
There was a room full of “Yes, sirs.”
The chief grunted and continued. “Midtown North’s Captain Pat Ammiano will be lead along with Sixth Precinct’s Captain Tim Rosetto. Lieutenant Alexander and Sergeant Ruiz from Midtown North will also be working with the rest of you from Sixth. I don’t give a rat’s ass who finds this guy. We are all working together, and regardless of who finds it from
whichever precinct, the collar goes to everyone in the room from this special task force. I want everyone’s full cooperation and sharing of information. If you can’t check your ego at the door, you can use it to walk out of this room now.” He looked at each man, one at a time, then back to Heather. “Ms. Connell will liaison between you and the labs. She will be working with Dr. Valesi and the lab techs downstairs here. Any questions?”
“We authorized for overtime?” asked Tim, an efficient manager already thinking about his budget.
“I have some Homeland Security money set aside for a rainy day. It’s raining. Do whatever you need to do. Catch this sick fuck before he kills somebody else. That’s all from me, good luck,” said the Chief, and with that he left.
Sixteen
VWX
Adam’s First Date
Adam waited three painful days before deciding to call Sara. He didn’t want to appear too eager and scare her off, and didn’t want to wait too long and have her forget him. He hadn’t ever been in this situation before, and found it interesting and somewhat exciting. He tried to remember what it was like when he was alive. Had he ever had a girlfriend? Was there anyone that ever made him feel something special inside? He couldn’t recall. He only remembered fumbling clumsily with that one farm girl who was a bit older than he, and was interested in “sending him off to war like a man”. They had fornicated quickly in a barn, banging away in the hay no better than the farm animals. It had taken them longer to get their clothes off than it did for him to finish, something she wasn’t very happy about.
• 90 • Then, of course, his thoughts turned back to Renee. He might have even felt something like love for her. Before he partially ate her and sucked her dry of all of her blood, of course. He was sorry about that, in a way. She had been one of the tastiest and most satisfying meals he had ever experienced. He just wished he could have held off and enjoyed her physical company longer. He truly enjoyed the feeling of having sex with her. He enjoyed watching her orgasm, with all of the heightened smells and sounds and body heat. It was certainly the closest he had ever felt to being alive again since that fateful night in the woods of Jena. If only he could have kept the animal inside. How long could it have lasted?
He thought of Sara and wondered. What if she was different from the rest? What if he had found a human that he wanted to be with? Perhaps he could make her like himself, and they could be together forever? That was a new thought. He had never considered that. How would he even do it? How did that undead thing infect him? He crouched in a corner of his room, his back against the wall, and wrapped his arms around his knees with his chin on them. It was the same position he had been in when he tried to disappear from the sound of screaming that night in the woods. He closed his eyes and remembered the sounds of that creature that made him what he was now. It was slashing and slurping and munching while those crude men screamed and begged for mercy. He felt sad again. He missed being alive at that moment, and that made him angry again. Almost any emotion he felt triggered anger, and let the animal out. He fought the urge to let it come out. Now was not the time or place. He was in his home. He needed to be careful.
Adam thought about Sara’s smile and her twinkling eyes. The bitch was alive. She was teasing him. She was flaunting it at him. He fought the claws coming out and said “no” quietly. She was doing no such thing. He was jealous, simple as that. She was the picture of “life” itself—so bubbly and happy and energetic. Yes—that was the word, energetic. And then he remembered how he had gorged himself on the sailors the night before he met Renee. That huge meal had kept the animal inside for three days, and allowed him to be around her almost like a human. She never knew he wasn’t human—well, at least not until his fangs and claws slid out and he ripped her to pieces as he sucked every drop of fluid out of her. But before that—he had enjoyed three wonderful days with her. And now Sara. How long could he last with her? Perhaps if he gorged himself, he could be around her safely, without succumbing to his animal inside.
He stood, feeling energized. He had a plan. He would arrange an evening to meet her, and prior to seeing her, he would gorge himself and keep himself under control. He actually smiled, and felt almost human. He dressed and walked out of his building to purchase a disposable cell phone. He had never had use for a phone, and didn’t want his name on any phone bills anyway. This was a minor inconvenience, but he smiled again at himself, thinking that he was certainly joining the twenty-first century now. He would have a phone. How charming.
Adam purchased the disposable cell phone and walked back to his apartment, watching and smelling the crowds on the street, allowing his appetite to build. He felt nervous as he dialed. It was wonderful to fee
l so human, even if the anger was always present in the background as a reminder that he was not human, and would never be human again. He pushed the anger away. The phone rang twice, and then her crisp happy voice answered and said, “Hello?”
“Hello Sara,” he said calmly. He felt an urge to reach through the phone and rip open her throat. He needed to feel her blood spurt into his mouth and taste every nuance of her being. He exhaled slowly and fought it off. “It’s Adam Priest,” he said softly. “From the gallery.”
“Adam! I was sure you had tossed my number! Nice to hear your voice. How are you?”
She was so sweet it was angering. She must taste delicious. She must. He exhaled slowly and willed his claws back in. “I’m fine, Sara. Truthfully, I have been thinking about our day in the gallery. It was a nice day for me. A treat, really.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet,” she said. She sounded sincere, as corny as it was. “It was a nice exhibit, although I don’t suppose I’ll ever look at her work the same way again.” He could almost hear her smiling.
“Yes, well, perhaps you moved from the technical aspect into a truer appreciation of what she was trying to convey.”
“I’m sure,” she replied.
“When we last spoke, I had asked if you might care to join me for an evening when you didn’t have to work the next day. Friday or Saturday, if you are free?”
“Well, I hadn’t heard from you, and I really didn’t think you would call, so I made plans for the weekend,” she said with hesitation in her voice.
“I see,” he said. It came out sounding sad, and as he heard himself, he could feel anger again at trying to be so fucking human.
“It’s no big deal. Let me make a phone call and see what I can do. I’ll call you right back, okay?” she asked.
