Burning Kiss

by Angela Addams

  The poor creature had tried to scream, a blood curdling one that she nearly choked on. It had made him shiver with pleasure. Her blood had squirted in an elegant arc to land on the floor. Very messy, but he was learning. Her eyes had gone comically wide, tearing, pleading, her terror and pain palpable as he gazed lovingly down at her.

  He realized soon enough that the serrated knife was hard to use—it kept slipping, he was in danger of slicing his own body in an effort to remove a part of hers. With all that saliva and blood and the vomit, he’d had to work faster. He found a clamp among the tools, and it worked quite well to grip the squirmy thing. He’d used it to pull what was left of her grotesque muscle, yanking it hard so that she moaned her pain, her fear. He sliced away from the base, or as far down as he could reach. One clean cut with a butcher’s knife, the kind you’d see on an infomercial, so sharp it could cut through a steel pipe.

  He’d pushed her forward so the blood would drain, her whimpering, grunts and groans making him hard all over again.

  He was a curious man, loved to experiment.

  She would be dead by now. Strangled with the cords he’d rigged, even before the flames could finish her. Maybe not. Either way, he was indifferent to her. She was dead to him already and had served her purpose.

  He smiled to himself as he walked across the campus, his dark clothes making him blend in, hiding the blood stains. He would need to clean up quickly. That raging fire would have the sirens coming soon. He ducked into the stairwell, then closed the gate before securing his lock behind him. He zipped down the tunnel. His domain, like the god of the underworld.

  He felt so satiated. That urge to control, to take what he wanted to fulfill his needs was back to a manageable beat in his heart. He was tired. Spent. Needed bed. But first, back to the room. He had a few hours at least, concealed by lack of knowledge, so long as that cop didn’t show up. But no, Bronson wasn’t a beat officer. He wouldn’t be a first responder, or clever enough to piece it all together. Not yet anyway. Of that he was certain.

  Upon his return, he surveyed the room. There was quite a lot of blood, pieces of her that needed to be discarded as well but he’d kept it mainly contained to the sheet. He’d be able to incinerate it all, burn away the evidence of his deviant behaviour.

  He bent down and picked up one of her eyeballs. Dead girl’s eyes. The other one had still been attached by the optical nerve when he’d strung her up. He thought it would be best for the fire to consume that one. He contemplated keeping it, finding a little formaldehyde, putting in a jar. But that was too grotesque even for him, and sloppy too. That’s how killers got caught. It was bad enough that he’d videotaped this one. But there was nothing for it.

  He needed to know if he could find satisfaction, if he could postpone his impulses by watching his art. He’d destroy the video once he knew.

  He tossed the eyeball back down then, with a long sigh, began to fold the sheet so that it captured all the gore. The room was so dim, the light from his battery powered lanterns casting an eerie glow he loved.

  “‘Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage…’” Ah yes, his smiled widened. How she had raged and wept, and begged. But it was all for nothing because she had come to him looking for advice and he’d delivered her to the light.

  27

  As if being in the tunnels wasn’t bad enough during the day, Kassey decided it would be interesting to check it out at night.

  “It’s not safe down there. Too dark. Lots of obstacles.” And creepy as all shit.

  “You went down there with Eddie.” Kassey had gotten home from rehab to find me searching the history of the tunnels in the university’s online archives. There wasn’t much beyond what I already knew. The tunnels had been built when the buildings went up as a way to shelter from the brutal winters. Some had eroded over the years. There were a lot of dead ends, tunnels existing where buildings no longer did. And despite the fact that an article or two had been written on the ghostly atmosphere, no students had actually died in any of the tunnels. None that were documented anyway.

  “Jealous?” I meant it as a joke but the look she gave me made my throat dry.

  “We’re supposed to be working on this case together. So I have something to do.” Her tone had an edge, her frown deep. “I leave you for a few hours and you’re off having a great time with your detective.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t exactly say it was a great time,” I mumbled.

  “I’m coming. I’ll go find some flashlights.” She disappeared into her bedroom, ignoring my comment altogether.

  With a deep sigh, I smacked my legs then pushed myself up from the bed.

  Okay, then. I was going back. With Kassey. At night. I’d always had a hard time saying no to her. Or rather an impossible time saying no. She’d come into my life when I was at my worst. I’d been abandoned by a cracked out whore of a mother who I didn’t remember beyond track marks and frequent smacks to the head, Kassey had been with me from the beginning. Day one of institution care. Her and I together. Me a feral beast of a child and she quiet, sensitive, and kind. She’d been the one to calm me. To whisper logic. If you behave like an animal, they’ll treat you like one. You’ll be sent away. We’ll never see each other again. We don’t give up. We don’t lay down and die when things go wrong. Her words had made sense. Her touch a balm. We’d come together at exactly the moment when we both thought we had no one. And we hadn’t parted since.

  So, Kassey was right. We were on this case together and what better time to investigate then at night when the monsters came out?

  I checked that Kassey was busy searching for supplies then went to my closet to retrieve my essentials. I opened my safe and grabbed my Taser rather than my gun. I didn’t think we’d run into any real trouble but I wasn’t about to go lurking around campus at night without some kind of defence.

  I slipped my waist holster on and put the Taser in, then grabbed my knife and belted it to my calf. My jeans covered that and a leather jacket hid the Taser so I was all good. Unless I had to pull either out, Kassey would never know.

  She hadn’t brought her cane, knowing that it would be cumbersome in the narrow parts of the tunnels. Instead, we took our time to get down the stairs into the archive room and then carefully snuck into the passageway that Eddie and I had searched earlier.

  With her partly leaning on me, and partly bracing against the wall, we moved fairly well. Slow but steady.

  “This place has a bad vibe,” she whispered, her flashlight bouncing off the walls.

  “I know. I thought so too this afternoon. And the noises…” The random bangs, groans, whispers of a moan. It all added to that feeling of spider webs on your face and things creeping up your spine. Like we were being watched even though that was impossible.

  “Eddie thinks that the killer accessed the tunnels to get the body to the library, right?”

  “Yeah.” I pointed to the right. “There’s a side passageway there. Let’s go check it out.”

  We hadn’t taken that route earlier but the tunnel was basically the same, perhaps a little narrower, walls a bit more damp and musty. We walked down the passageway, the darkness permeating, like our flashlights were fighting for the little circle of light they cast.

  The gate that the killer had presumably accessed was at the top of a small set of stairs, maybe five or six concrete slabs. The library itself was closed this time of night but there was ambient light coming from up there. We moved apart to inspect the room.

  “Are there more rooms like this one?” Kassey moved along the far wall, her fingers trailing the bricks to steady herself.

  There were a couple of old wooden chairs stacked to my left. “Yes. It seems like they’re all being used for storage.”

  “Could it be possible that the murderer is using one of the rooms? I mean, if there are more?”

  I paused, glanced over at her. “I guess it is.”

  “It’s hidden, deserted. Like a dungeon. I can’t imag
ine anyone would want to explore down here.”

  I shivered. “If there are two rooms that we’ve found in such a short inspection, then there’s probably more. And yeah, unless it’s some kids out for a thrill or something, the gates are all locked for the most part. No one would want to be down here just for the hell of it, and why bother going to the trouble?” Other than Mr. Wright, even Kiefer and his buddies hadn’t gotten very far down there. In fact, Mr. Wright was probably the only one who had a reason to be down in the tunnels…or at least more of a reason than anyone else. Seeing the man accessing a gate wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary either.

  Kassey nodded then turned back to her search. “I’ve got some old lamps here. A shelf that’s seen better days. Nothing on it though.”

  I followed the trail of her flashlight and started toward her when there was a loud bang, followed by footsteps.

  “Oh shit.” We killed our lights. I closed the distance to Kassey and put my arm around her waist, steadying her in the darkness.

  It wasn’t coming from the library, where I would expect security to make the rounds. The noise of movement was coming from the main passageway we’d just left. Or at least the echo was.

  “We have company,” Kassey whispered then she nudged me to move.

  I nodded, handed her my flashlight then pulled out my Taser.

  She looked at it, then looked at me, eyebrows raised.

  I held her stare for a heartbeat. “Let’s go.”

  She nodded.

  There was no discussion. No debate. No question that we were going to check out what the noises were. If there was one thing about Kassey that I needed at that moment, it was her unfailing courage. She never flinched. Was always at my side. Even when she knew it was dumb to be there.

  We walked slowly, a slight shuffle that made little noise. There were more footfalls, a loud clang. It sounded like someone was moving away.

  “Could that be someone outside?”

  “The caretaker.”

  “This time of night?”

  “He inspects for ghost hunters or some shit. He keeps the gate locked though. I’ll show you. There’s an entrance down there. Could be him making rounds.”

  “But why? If he replaced the lock and the gate was secure, why come down here to inspect?”

  The air changed when we hit the main passageway again.

  “You smell that?” It was gasoline and something else.

  “Ugh, that’s horrible.” Kassey raised her head higher, sniffing the air as we continued our slow progress. “It smells like burning hair.”

  We made it to the small storage room that Eddie and I had found. “The gate’s just here. I think the smell is coming from outside.”

  “What’s that noise?” Kassey gasped. “It sounds like fire.”

  We made it to the gate.

  I gripped the bars, Kassey at my side. The old oak was just there, the massive trunk partially obscuring whatever was on fire. It swayed into view then out of view again.

  “What is that?” I squinted into the darkness, rattling the gate, the lock still in place.

  “Jade, I think it’s a body.” Kassey pointed through the bars, her finger outlining the thing hanging, burning.

  And it came into focus for me. A body, hanging from the tree, bound, ablaze. And the sound of moaning.

  “Oh shit.” I pulled my phone out. No signal. “Shit, shit, shit. We need to get out of here.”

  “Go.” Kassey turned to me. “Call for help. I’ll meet you up there.”

  “Are you nuts? I’m not leaving you behind.”

  “Jade, that person is still alive. Go, call it in. I’ll be fine.” She raised her voice, urgent, defiant. “I don’t need you. Someone else does. If there’s a chance, you need to help. Go, I’ll be fine.”

  “Here.” I handed her my Taser but she shook her head.

  “I need my hands free. Go. Jade. Please. Go.”

  And so I did. I ran down the passageway, no light to guide my way. Moving as quickly as I could until I hit the archive room, and up the stairs. The moment I made it to the top floor, I got bars and called it in. First emergency, then Eddie.

  It took them less than five minutes to get there. Fire, paramedic. Eddie got there in twenty.

  They put the fire out. They cut her down. They tried to save her. And I stood and watched as they pumped her chest, squeezed oxygen in her nose. As they tried to bring her back to life. She whimpered a bit. She moaned. And then she was silent.

  It was too late.

  And I watched. I watched. And I could do nothing to help.

  She never had a chance. Her body had been ravaged. One eyeball was missing. Her skin burned and smouldering still. Her face only partially consumed.

  I knew her.

  I had just been talking to her.

  “It’s Devin Bells,” I whispered, taking steps back, away from the chaos. The police were moving people away. Blocking the media from any more pictures. They hadn’t noticed me.

  “Jade,” Eddie called, moving to my side, out of breath, phone in his hand. “Are you okay?”

  I thought he would try to hug me. He didn’t. Instead, he touched my arm. Reassuring me? If he noticed my trembling he didn’t say anything. “It’s Devin Bells.”

  “Stay here.” Eddie frowned, moved away from me and into the fray of official people. He flashed his badge, said some things to the uniformed police. Then came back to me. “They can’t make an official ID. There’s no identification on her.”

  “Trust me. I know her. Devin Bells. The tattoo on her forearm. It’s a lion. She just got it done. She told me.”

  “What are you doing here?” He gave me that look, the one that was asking more from me.

  “I saw the fire. I called it in.”

  “Yes, but why—”

  “Detective? What’s going on here?” The caretaker came over to us, his expression one of concern.

  “Mr. Wright.” Eddie shook his hand. “We’ve got a situation.”

  “I couldn’t sleep. Heard a racket over here. Someone set the tree on fire?”

  I tugged on Eddie’s arm, forcing him to lean into me. “I was in the passageway. I heard footsteps. Someone was down there with us.”

  Eddie didn’t say anything to me, just pinned me with a look then straightened. “Mr. Wright, can you come with me for a minute?”

  “Of course.”

  Eddie walked to the stairs that would lead to the gate. “Do you have a key for that lock down there?”

  Mr. Wright moved down the stairs, a circle of keys jangling in his hand.

  “Who were you in the tunnel with?” Eddie said, his voice hard when he returned to my side. “You said us. Who were you with?”

  “It’s Devin! Oh god, please don’t say it’s her.” Kiefer Jones came barrelling down the hill from the direction of the theatre. He didn’t get anywhere close to the body.

  “Hold him,” Eddie yelled then turned back to me. “We’ll talk later. I’m going to get one of the uniforms to take your statement then get you home.”

  “I want to help.”

  “You will help. Give your statement then stay out of the way. We’ll talk later.”

  Ouch. Okay.

  “Kassey.” I turned toward the staircase where Mr. Wright was fumbling with his keys. “She’s in the tunnel. I have to go help her.”

  “Kassey?” Eddie reached out and stopped me. “Kassey Hays?”

  I nodded, tried to rip my arm out of his grasp. “Yeah, we were in the tunnel, exploring. That’s who I was with.” I let an edge ride my words. “She told me to run so I could call it in and maybe try to save Devin. But it was too late.” I felt panic rising. “She should have made it out by now.” I looked around the crowd. “Kassey!” I shouted. “Kassey!”

  “Jade.” Eddie shook me a bit, pulling me toward him. “Stop.”

  “No, let go of me. I have to find her.” She was in the tunnel still. I had to go.

  “Jade!” Eddie yel
led, snapping me back to him. “Kassey isn’t in the tunnel. She isn’t here.”

  “Yes, she is. She’s here.”

  He moved me off to the side, away from the noise, the people. “No, Kassey isn’t here.”

  I frowned. “Where is she then?” I glanced around, trying to sort out how he knew where she was.

  Eddie shook his head. “I’m going to get a uniform to take you to the hospital, get you checked out.” He motioned to another cop. “Did you bump your head?” He gripped my face, turning my head from side to side.

  I pulled away. “Where’s Kassey?” Where was she? She should have been out by now. “I need to go help her.”

  “Jade!” Eddie shook me a bit, pulling my attention back to him again. “Listen to me. Kassey isn’t in the tunnel.”

  “I heard you.” I snapped. “She’s here though.”

  “No, she isn’t.” Eddie leaned closer to me. “Jade, you know she’s not here.”

  “Where is she then, Eddie? If she’s not here?”

  But this feeling in my gut that made me want to puke rose up fast and hard, lose strength in my legs and then collapse into him. “Where is she?”

  He held me close to his chest, running his fingers through my hair and I felt tears burn my eyes. His words were whispered, right in my ear so I couldn’t mistake them. “Jade, Kassey is dead.”

  28

  Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

  I knew this. I knew. Kassey was dead. She’d died six months ago. I had been at the funeral. I had been there when they’d buried her.

  Eddie took me home. He left me there. He said he’d be back to check on me. And he looked at me like I was too broken to fix. Which I was.

  I walked the condo. Went to Kassey’s room. Found the boxes. Cardboard. All taped up. I’d done that. I had. Right after she’d died. Six months ago. I’d boxed up her room, all her stuff and then painted the walls. Gotten rid of her furniture. I’d made her disappear. Convinced myself that she was at rehab. But she wasn’t. I’d conveniently made her disappear when I needed her to be gone and brought her back when I needed her here. Overnight stays, sleeping off migraines. It was all in my head, a cushion for my shattered psyche, protecting me from the truth.