Monster: The Story Of A Maniac

by Peter Cry

  Alfred did not want to seem weak and indecisive. He straightened up in his chair and broadened his shoulders. Opening the downloaded file with a fresh report, he concentrated, withdrawing from his surroundings, and began his journey into the realm of documents.

  ***

  When you stare at a white screen with black lines for hours without a break, space begins to change, either inside you or outside. It becomes uncomfortable and rattles you. Only the fact that the time spent on the text passes quickly does not allow you to escape from this unpleasant state. It remains somewhere in the background, in the field of peripheral vision, where the black endless stripes, woven from words and letters, mesmerize you and won’t let you go.

  Alfred sat at his laptop and tried to remember the details of the last report he had read. Although the variety of data created a mess in his head, he had compiled a general picture of what was happening.

  Conscientious Kate Duncan was always the last to leave the office. Her only companions were the security guards, wishing her a good night, who stayed on for night duty in the lobby of the ground floor

  “Are you coming?” she asked Alfred, jingling a bunch of keys.

  Alfred wound down. Taking a deep breath, he wiped his tired face.

  “God, it feels like I’ve just read a whole book.” He took off his jacket from his chair, put it on, and hurried to the exit. “Thank you for reanimating me, otherwise I would have stared at the screen until morning.”

  Taking off her beige coat from the hanger, Kate threw it over her arm.

  “I hope my text didn’t bother you too much.”

  “No, it was fine,” Alfred smiled back.

  “Do you need a ride?”, Agent Duncan, straightening her sparkling hair, suggested timidly.

  “Yes,” Alfred agreed with pleasure. “It would be great. I don’t know the city at all, and they will get my staff car only on Monday.”

  The girl turned off the light in the room. Opening the doors, she went out to the landing with her colleague.

  “So, what would you say about what you’ve read?”

  “It's hard to say something yet. I’ve sent the key reports and protocols of the interrogations of witnesses to my mail. The weekend is coming, so I plan to study them.”

  Alfred and his new colleague walked down the stairs. After two flights, he recalled something that was bothering him.

  “By the way, there are 473 unread emails in my box. Are they all spam, or should I read each one of them?”

  Kate smiled knowingly.

  “Yes, most are spam. They are mails that were sent to us at the very outset when we asked everyone who saw or knew something to tell us about it. We’ve established a huge reward for any information that will help to rescue the children. Many wanted to make a fast buck of $50 million. They wrote such hearsay to us that over time we realized there was no use to be gained from these emails. I wouldn’t recommend wasting your time on them. We read all the most important messages immediately after the abduction, so it’s not worth reading them all.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  Hearing a man's voice, the guard, sitting in the lobby on the ground floor, closed his magazine and stood up. The favorite of Sean, Agent Duncan, and the newcomer, who after the introduction no longer seemed a simpleton from the periphery, came down the stairs.

  “Have a good evening, ma'am,” the guard looked with a polite smile.

  “You too, have a good evening and night.”

  “Goodnight, Mr. Hope.”

  Before stepping out of the already open transparent glass doors, Alfred stopped and turned around. He had not expected the guard to remember his name from the first time.

  “See you, Sean.”

  The guard, looking through the glass, noticed that the new FBI officer was smiling as he walked alongside the building.

  Chapter 16

  After Helen Escamilla opened the door to the basement, the screams coming from there suddenly stopped.

  Walking down the wooden steps, she peered into the soft dusk that enveloped the walls. The creak spread through the spacious basement, which suddenly began to seem completely empty.

  Helen grabbed the torch from her belt and began to flash in front of her.

  “This is the police! Children are you there?” she cried out in a trembling voice.

  Hearing a female voice speaking to them, the children, tearing themselves away, began to shout again and call for help. Lily also heard someone going down to the basement, and realized it was neither Jason nor Howard. Emotions, resembling an all-absorbing hurricane, swept inside the girl’s head – moving from incredible happiness and glee to terrible fear and panic. She fought with her demons and pounded on the door, screaming, and begging for help.

  “We are here! We are here!” a child's cry was tearing the dark basement.

  Helen walked around several racks with old tools and other junk. Having finally reached her goal, she directed a ray of light into a corner.

  “My God...” she burst into tears when she saw the poor little fellow trying to run towards her.

  The pale exhausted children were held by the throat with collars chained to a cable sticking out of the wall. Despite the pain, bruises on their thin necks and suffocation, the kids still tried to get closer to their savior. Screaming and wheezing, falling on cold concrete, rising again and not giving up.

  “Quiet, quiet,” the officer repeated, approaching the screaming children, and trying to set them free from the collars.

  “Please save me, I want to go home,” squeaking, Emmy whispered, digging her thin fingers into the stranger’s foot.

  Those, who could not touch Helen, crawled along the floor, trying to catch hold of her at least with their little fingers. Everything that happened around the police officer reminded her of the most terrible thriller or horror movie. Holding the flashlight with one hand, trying not to lose sight of the children, with her second hand, she tried to free one of them from the death grip of the vile collar.

  “Quiet!” she cried. “I can’t understand anything.”

  Frightened, the children fell silent but did not let the stranger go.

  The collars were so cleverly made that they could not be drawn off or torn. With small but strong locks they were fastened to a metal cable.

  Helen stopped and sighed nervously. Lighting up the children, she noticed bruises and abrasions on their bodies. Trying to control herself, she smiled through a terrible pain to at least soothe a little the trembling kids.

  “My babies...” Helen sat down. “I need to find something to set you free. I must leave you now.”

  “No, no!” little Emmy shouted, cuddling up to the woman.

  “I beg you, please, don’t go! He will kill us,” one of the boys cried.

  “Please, understand, I need to find something to cut off this filthy cable. There must be something among those mountains of tools.”

  The oldest of the boys, Michael, wiping snot and tears from under his nose, tried to calm down.

  “Turn on the light, there is a switch under the stairs.”

  Helen began to free herself from the strong embrace of the children.

  Four bold exhausted boys unwillingly released their savior, realizing that it was a necessity.

  “No, no!” cried inconsolable Emmy. “No, mommy, don’t leave me.”

  Tears rolled down Helen's cheeks, and in response, she pressed a little lisping girl with broken teeth to herself.

  “Calm down, sweetheart,” she stroked the baby through her hair. “I need to go away for a moment so I can help you to get out of here. Please, understand, I must do that.”

  “Let go, Emmy,” Michael gently took the girl by her shoulder.

  “I promise I won’t go anywhere, and I won’t let anyone harm you.”

  The baby whimpered and shook.

  “Promise?” she asked without unlocking her cuddle.

  “Yes, my dear.”

  “Come to me,” Micha
el said quietly, pulling Emmy toward him.

  The girl released Helen and helplessly embraced the noble boy.

  “Hurry up,” he said. “If Howard returns, he’ll kill all of us.”

  The officer flew through the gloomy basement to the stairs. She clicked the switch and a dim oppressive light appeared in the basement, which seemed enough for her to find the necessary tools. Fumbling on shelves full of dusty trash, Helen indiscriminately threw everything that came to hand.

  “Where, where!” she screamed.

  Pausing, Hellen put her hands on her hips. Panic and anger knew no bounds, and she helplessly threw her head up.

  “Common, help me to...”, without having finished her angry request, on the top shelf, she noticed a slightly rusted bolt cutter of an impressive size. Having jumped, she hooked it with her hand, and it crashed down with a rattle.

  Lily pounded on the soft door covered with fungal stains on pink upholstery, which was prudently stuffed there by Jason so that no one in no way could hear the girl's screams. The thick powerful door and thick walls almost did not let out any sound. Knocking on the door, Lily thought that she simply must be heard. The poor thing did not know and did not understand that her strength had almost completely oozed away, and what seemed to her the strongest blows and screams wasn’t like that at all. She was on the edge. Her heart could stop at any moment.

  “Now, just a bit more,” Helen gritted her teeth and, using all her strength, squeezed the heavy bolt cutter.

  The children looked anxiously at the fairy tale that they had been dreaming of for so many months, starving, suffering from wild abuse, every moment incinerated by animal fear. The cable was cracking, it seemed that nothing could bite it. Finally, the bolt cutter handles hit each other, and a click sounded. Little Emmy was no longer a prisoner of that terrible basement.

  “Now you,” Michael said quietly, pointing to his friend, who was shaking either from happiness or from fear.

  “Don’t be afraid, I will free everyone.”

  Helen was not the strongest and most athletic woman, but she found enough strength for all five cables, which could be beyond the power of many men. Releasing the kids, she was amazed that none of them jumped the queue or fought for the opportunity to be saved first. Each time a click sounded, little Emmy jumped for joy and clapped her hands. Her sad tear-stained eyes shone, it seemed that she had not experienced anything horrible. All bad was behind, she was saved.

  “And that’s it,” Helen gathered the kidnapped five beside her. “Now I go out first and look around very carefully. You stay quiet and carefully sneak after me. First, we find shoes and warm jackets, and then we go outside and get lost among the trees. After that I call for help, and you go to your parents,” she glanced at the children and set her eyes on Michael. “Keep your eyes on them.”

  “I will” the boy obediently nodded his head, realizing the responsibility that was laid on him.

  Without looking back, the fugitives hurried to the exit.

  “Wait,” the lisping voice stopped them.

  “Emmy, this is not the best time for your whims,” one of the boys was indignant.

  “What is it?” going up the stairs, Helen sharply turned around.

  “There is a girl,” the child pointed her finger at the metal door in the wall.

  “What girl?” the officer began to walk down.

  “She's with them,” Michael muttered.

  “No, she’s not,” Emmy shot back angrily. “I saw how Howard beat her.”

  Thrilled Helen realized that in the bustle she hadn’t noticed the door, upholstered with a metal sheet, located to the right of the stairs.

  “Wait for me here,” she said softly.

  Slowly approaching the door, she seemed to hear a scream. Helen discovered the door wasn’t locked. She simply had to draw the locking bar to open it.

  Lily heard the familiar sound of the door opening.

  She paused, feeling her throat burst with pain, and dropped her fists down.

  The door creaked and opened.

  Something broke in Helen's soul. Broke forever.

  “Lily...”

  “Miss Escamilla,” the girl whispered, shuddering in pain.

  The officer heard how the staircase creaked behind her. She realized that the children did not wait and jumped out of the basement to find the necessary things.

  “Let's go. Your mom is waiting for you.”

  For the first time in several years, Lily smiled genuinely. She could not believe her suffering had finally come to an end, and she was about to see her mother.

  There was a deafening clap, and a few drops of blood sprinkled on the girl's face. The lifeless body of Officer Helen Escamilla hit the floor. Blood flowed from her temple, creating a vermillion puddle under her head.

  “And you thought your suffering had ended, bitch?” An unfamiliar young man dressed in a police uniform was standing there smiling.

  Holding a revolver in one hand and a chocolate bar in the other, he laughed at the trembling girl standing in the doorway.

  “And you are really beautiful,” he said, measuring her from top to toe.

  Lily took a step back and, sitting on the floor, grabbed her head.

  “No-o-o-o!” she cried out drawlingly.

  “Oh, shut up,” the policeman threw indifferently, slamming the metal doors.

  Sliding the bar, he looked at the corpse of his partner. Returning the revolver to the holster hanging on his belt, Steve put the last piece of the chocolate bar into his mouth and threw the bright yellow wrapper over her lifeless body.

  “How could you be so stupid, Escamilla?” he said in disgust. “I’ve told you to forget it! I should have fucked you. Then you might have calmed down and stayed at home.”

  Howard, dirty and smeared, broke into the basement.

  Grabbing at the edge of the closet so as not to fall, he stopped and looked at the corpse.

  “I’ve caught them all,” he said breathlessly.

  “You owe me another Camaro,” said Steve, full of himself.

  Howard was bewildered. “She's a cop! They’ll look for her! What do we do now?”

  “Don't pee your pants,” Steve snapped back. “Either Jason will come back, or something else will happen. Nobody will look for this stupid bitch. I’ve cleaned up everything with Lily, I’ll do the same with her. Cut her up and bury her in the fields. You’ve got used to that, haven't you?”

  “Her?” Howard retorted, watching the impudent cop walk up the stairs. “Don’t you want to do it yourself?”

  Steve sighed in exasperation. He looked back at Howard.

  “My job is to wipe your and Jason’s asses so that you don't come into the spotlight. And now, since Jason has apparently been torn to pieces by wolves, I’m working personally with you.”

  “Shut up,” Howard rapped, drawing closer to the stairs. “Jason is alive! And when he returns, he’ll make steaks out of you for the children!”

  Steve descended a couple of steps. “If I hadn’t come here now, warned you, and shot that shithead, you would have been on your way to the electric chair.”

  After a few seconds, he began to straighten Howard's black dirty collar. “Don’t forget, I can still do my job and become a hero for the entire world. I just need to kill you, Lily, and put a gun in your hand. So, don’t be such an ass, you fat faggot.”

  Howard pushed the hand off his neck.

  “Do you really think that Jason and I have not secured ourselves from reptiles such as you?”

  “Yep,” the policeman said indifferently, continuing his way upstairs. “Remember about another Camaro. Let it be the red one this time,” he shouted from somewhere in the corridor.

  Howard was left alone in the basement. He looked with disgust at the corpse of the young policewoman lying in a pool of blood. He realized that during the next hours he’d have to experience something grotesque, reminiscent of cutting up the carcass of a cow.

  It was one thin
g when he and Jason frolicked with beautiful angels, and quite another to dismember such an awkward creature called “woman”. And the most interesting thing was that it would all have to be done in front of the children who had already suffered so much. Probably, after all that they had endured, it was time to give them some pleasure. Real pleasure, so they would finally cum, not he.

  ***

  All day and into the evening, Howard had labored with the dismemberment of Helen’s corpse. He caught himself thinking that life was incredibly unfair to human beings. Old age was cruel, making the body less elastic, less beautiful. Children under the age of fourteen with whom Howard usually dealt, were much easier, and more enjoyable, to cut up. The smell of a young healthy body was completely different.

  Having solved one problem, he returned the five children, with whom he had genuinely bonded, to their regular place. After feeding them, he gave them a lecture at the end of which he assured them that in the coming days they were about to experience something new and interesting that would be pleasant, and they would be pleased. After that, he decided to do what he considered most important, to repair the door to Jason’s room – a place even he didn’t dare to enter, but that bitch of a policewoman had soiled the floor with her muddy boots.

  On finishing with the lock, he cleaned up the master's bedroom, dusted and ventilated it a bit. After putting back in their place, the beautiful family photos of Jason and him scattered on the floor, he returned to his room. There, on a pine lacquered chest of drawers, stood a photo in a frame. It was the only picture of Jason and him, where their faces were not blurred or covered. In it, they were sitting together in a noisy Indianapolis bar, like two best friends drinking beer together.

  Howard wiped the glass of the photo frame with the tip of his shirt and put it back in place.

  “You’re alive, I’m sure,” Howard whispered with uncertainty.

  Chapter 17

  The young man in the standard clothes for an FBI employee entered the hall of its Indianapolis building. A black suit, a black skinny tie, black novelty leather shoes, and a white shirt. Sean, noticing the guest, stood up out of habit. Looking closely, he nodded a couple of times in approval.