Slasherazzi (10 page)

I picked up the amputated leg and held it from him to see, blood dripping from the jagged skin onto the bare floorboards beneath. “How does it feel to only have one leg?”
“Feels like it’s still there,” he replied quietly.
“Ah, the phantom limb phenomena.” My fingers traced lightly across a long scar on the outside of his thigh. “Do you remember this?”
He gave a weak nod.
“You really shouldn’t have left kitchen knives lying around the place with a traumatized child, you know?”
The torment had continued for three months before I finally plucked up the courage to end it. I’d been meaning to kill myself, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t when Mom had given everything to ensure I lived. I was still holding the bread knife in my tiny hand when Dad burst in through the front door, shouting and bawling. He went straight for me, his fists raised, and I did the only thing I could to defend myself. I stabbed the knife into his leg, and I ran as fast as my bruised and battered body could carry me through the tiny back woods. I hadn’t cared where I was going, nor could I really see through the stream of tears that stung my eyes and the open cuts on my face, but I ran until I couldn’t go any farther. It was a day or so later when I woke up in the hospital, scared and confused, and it didn’t take long for me to be transferred to a psych ward.
A sense of pride swelled inside me at seeing the scar I’d left. After all, it was my very first cut and proof of the moment I had managed to escape my father’s tyranny. He hadn’t always been bad, though. Before Mom’s death, he was a different person altogether.
“Hey, Dad,” I said. He turned his head toward me but made no move to reply. “Remember that thing you used to do when I was little? You used to take my hand and make me hit myself, then you’d tell me to stop hitting myself.”
David’s eyes widened a little, but then his face relaxed and he almost smiled. “Yeah, I remember. You u-u-used to think it was hilarious.”
“Of course, that was before Mom died. After that, you started using your own fists.”
“What made you think of that?” he asked.
“Well,” I started, raising the leg above my head and bringing it down to smash into his face. “Stop kicking yourself, Dad.” I repeated the motion over and over again, laughing as I did so. “Whaddaya know? It is hilarious.”
David groaned, his face a mess of blood and bruises. His right eye swelled, turning a sickly shade of purple, and blood ran down the sides of his face from a split lip. I picked up a large piece of cloth from my backpack and wrapped the leg up in it, before tying it up with some tape like a Christmas present just waiting to be torn into. I’d never taken a trophy before, but I had special plans for the leg, and I couldn’t just leave behind the start of my legacy.
“So, how are you feeling, Dad?”
“Go to hell,” he said, spitting out some blood.
“Hell?” I asked. “Are you sure you want me down there? After all, I’m pretty sure if Hell existed that you’d be going there too. Would you really want to be stuck there with me for eternity? I have to say, the thought of being able to do this forever makes me wish there was an afterlife.”
David grinned weakly. “Hell does not work like that. You will be punished for your own sins.”
“If there were such a thing as Hell,” I added. “I prayed for God to end my pain, and all I got was another beating. Heaven. Hell. God. It’s all a lie.”
I picked up the poker again and held it above his stomach. He screamed as I drew the hot metal over his skin, leaving behind a trail of blistered and charred flesh.
“Alright,” he shouted. I paused, eager to hear what he had to say. “I deserve this. Is that what you want me to say? I did some awful things to you, and I can’t ever take them back.”
I snorted and swung the poker in a wide arc. It clanged against the wall, the sound echoing through the tiny room, and sent vibrations running up the length of my arm. “Awful doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“You’re right,” he replied. “But it is not your place to deliver punishment for my sins. Down there, that is where I’ll pay for what I have done.”
I laughed, throwing back my head. “There is no afterlife. You’ll just have to make do with me. Tonight, I will be your Devil. How does that sound?”
David opened his mouth to speak. I pressed the poker once more to his skin, and whatever words he was ready to spew were replaced by another scream.
His breathing came faster and shallower as he spoke. “What will you do after I’m gone?”
“I plan to continue my work, of course.”
“Why?” he asked, his voice becoming more of a whisper as his life continued to slowly trickle away through his wounds. “Let it end with me.”
“Well,” I said, twiddling the poker around in my hands. “I do enjoy my work, so it would be a shame to put an end to it. Besides, my goals don’t end with you.”
“Then who?”
“There’s a detective who’s been trying so hard to catch me. Don’t worry, I don’t want him dead, but he has another role to play in this little saga. He’ll find that out soon enough.”
“What do you mean?”
I groaned and shook my head. “Enough with the questions. Before I’m done with you tonight, you’re going to pray for death, just like I begged God. And just like Him, I’ll deny you that freedom…at least until I’m done with you.”
I picked up my loyal knife and began to work on his left leg, dragging the blade toward his ankle in a crisscross pattern. David clenched his jaw, biting back the screams. I had tried to do the same thing when he would come home in a drunken rage and throw me down onto the bed. As my ass was engulfed in a searing pain, I had tried to stay quiet. But I was only young, and the pain was too much. I had cried and screamed until his rough hand smothered my mouth. It was only right he should feel the same way.
With that thought, I moved to the foot of the table, taking the hot poker with me. I wasted no time in lining up the metal rod between his legs and thrusting it inside him, wiggling it around until the resistance gave. His cries echoed throughout the entire cabin, his body jerking violently against the tape. I withdrew the poker a few inches, then rammed it back inside, before leaving it there and walking around to his face.
“Now do you understand what it was like for me?” I asked.
“Please,” he begged, the shaking of his body abating to a soft tremble. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you think I care whether or not you’re sorry? Because I don’t. Say whatever you want. It won’t change my mind. You will suffer more than you can imagine tonight.”
I cut at his stomach with the knife, resisting the urge to head farther down. That one piece of flesh had caused me so much pain, and before the night was through, I planned to get my revenge. Just not yet.
“Do you feel scared? Helpless?” I asked. “Can you imagine yet how I must have felt?”
“Yes,” he bawled.
I smirked, but only a second later, I furrowed my brow and curled my lips. “No! You could never understand how you made me feel.”
I prodded at the puffy swelling of his right eye with the knifepoint, and he winced and hissed. It was swollen almost shut, and as the blade broke the skin, a black liquid oozed out. I dug the knife in farther, twisting it around until his eye was nothing more than a crater of fluid.
His breaths came shallower and were more labored. A layer of sweat coated his body, glistening in the dim cabin light. It wouldn’t be long now before his body finally gave out, much to my disappointment. But then, it would have been impossible to make him realize just how much he had put me through. One night wasn’t nearly long enough—a month, perhaps, and he might have begun to understand.
His dick lay limp over his sac. I pierced the soft flesh, managing to almost skewer one of his balls. I growled, and gave in to the angry beast that had previously been pushed aside. Heat rose up and consumed me as I stabbed again and again, until there was nothing left recognizable as a man’s genitalia, only ribbons and lumps of flesh that looked like meat going into a mincer.
The bloodlust sated, I took the knife and saw and washed them down in the nearby sink, before wrapping them up in a piece of cloth and placing them into my backpack. I discarded my bloodied jeans and T-shirt onto the floor and washed as much of the blood from my skin as possible, then changed into a fresh pair of clothes.
“Is it over?” David asked between sobs.
“Almost,” I said, taking down the locket. I gave it one last glance before putting it in my pocket.
I picked up the leg and carried it outside to the edge of the clearing surrounding the cabin, and left it leaning up against a tree. With my trophy out of harm’s way, I went back inside and took one last item from my backpack; a can of gasoline. David’s screams had quieted. He rasped with every breath as he fought to inhale. I unscrewed the cap and poured the fuel over him and into the multitude of cuts. Even his groans were pathetic now.
“Goodbye, Dad. I wish I could say we should do this another time, but alas, it wouldn’t be much fun since you’ll be dead.”
I picked up my things and doused some more of the kitchen, making sure to stay well away from the open fire, and made a small trail outside. When there was no more gasoline left, I threw the can back inside and took out a lighter from the pocket of my jeans. I lit it and stared into the flickering flame, taking a deep breath.
The first half of my plan was complete. Now, all that remained was to finish the game of cat and mouse with Detective Alex Beckman.
I picked a strip of cloth from my pocket and held the end of it over the flame. It caught fire in seconds, and I threw it down to the ground. A trail of fire blazed toward the cabin, the heat beating against my skin. I didn’t stop to admire the inferno, instead turning and jogging off into the woods toward where I had parked my ride, stopping only to pick up my trophy. Despite being a little out of the way, the smoke would catch someone’s attention before too long, and I wanted to be clear of the scene well before then.

A heavy buzzing sound jerked me from the brink of sleep. I groaned and reached over to the bedside table to hit the snooze button on my phone, silencing the alarm tone before it had a chance to start. Just ten more minutes, that’s all I needed. I stretched my arms out and yawned, before rolling onto my side and curling up.

Seconds later, the droning was back. I cursed and sat up. Hadn’t I just turned that damn thing off? I picked up the cell to squint at the screen. Tanya.

“Don’t you give me ‘what’s up’, boy! I just lied to the lieutenant for you, now where the hell are you?”
“I’m in bed. Why?”
“Why, my ass? You should have been in the office half an hour ago.”
I took the phone away from my ear to look at the time. Eight thirty. I threw the covers to one side and jumped out of the bed. “Shit, I’m sorry. Really sorry. I don’t know what happened, but I must have slept through my alarm. I’ll be down there as soon as possible.”
“Skip the office,” Tanya replied. “We’ve got another body on our hands. Get yourself ready, I’ll message you the address.”
The line dropped, and I threw my cell onto the bed as I raced into the bathroom for the quickest shower of my life.

I pulled up behind a line of police cars and killed the engine. Tall trees lined the edges of the dirt road, rising high up into the clear blue sky with their red-brown trunks and thin needle-like leaves. At the end of the path stood a flock of journalists with their cameras clicking and flashing, and reporters relaying the events to the breakfast news shows.

I made my way down the road and flashed my badge at the officer who stood guard by the yellow tape, before ducking under. The smell of burning wood and smoke hung in the air, growing thicker with each step. A short way past the police line was the source of the fire, surrounded by a black ring of death. What had likely been a small cabin was now little more than a charred husk, and in front of it was one pissed off partner.

Tanya tapped her foot against the ground as I approached. “Late night?”
I shook my head. “Like I said, I don’t know what happened. I’m really sorry. What did you tell the lieutenant?”
She glared at me for a moment before sighing and unfolding her arms. “You’re lucky I like you, Alex. If anyone asks, you were talking to a potential witness but it was a dead end. Okay?”
I nodded and clapped her on the shoulder. “Yeah, thanks for covering me. Now, what have we got here? Doesn’t look like one of our guy’s kills.”
“A fire was reported early this morning around three o'clock. By the time the firefighters got here, it was far too late. They found a single body inside.”
“What are we thinking? Suicide? Cooking accident?”
“None of the above, unless our victim was able to tie himself to the table and start the fire from outside the cabin. You gotta admit that would be an impressive magic trick. Oh, and did I mention that our guy…Well, we’re pretty sure it’s a guy…He only has one leg.”
I grimaced. “We’ve already got one sick fuck on the loose. Last thing we need is another.”
“What makes you so sure it’s not the same guy?” Powell asked as he joined us.
“You have any reason to believe it is?” I motioned to the surrounding area. “Arson isn’t part of our killer’s MO. He’d rather leave the corpse so we can see exactly what he’s done to them; every cut and slice he made into their bodies. Not…this.”
“Unless he wanted to hide something,” Powell said. “Do we know if any pictures have turned up yet?”
Tanya shook her head.
“I can find out,” I replied, taking my cell from my pocket.
“Okay, you do that. Let me know when you find out,” he said, then made his way back over to the cabin where the two clone agents were waiting. I hit the speed dial and pressed the phone to my ear.
“You calling Vince?” Tanya asked.
I opened my mouth to answer when he picked up after the first ring. “Hey, it’s just me. I was wondering if any more pictures turned up this morning.”
“I don’t know anyone called Me. And why do you have Alex’s phone, Me?” Vince paused, then gasped. “Did you kidnap him? Well, if you’re looking for ransom money, then you’re out of luck. He sucked in bed anyway.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Keep talking, bastard. We’ll see if you still feel the same way when you have to get a wheelchair into work tomorrow because you can’t walk properly.”
Tanya’s eyes widened. She turned and waved me off as she joined the agents while muttering something about men.
“Promise?” Vince asked. “I was thinking maybe we could go out for a meal or something tonight. It’s been a while since we had a night out, you know? I can pick you up around seven-ish at yours.”
“Yeah, sure. Now what about the pictures?”
“There was nothing in the mail when I got into the office. Why? Was there another death? Shit, where is it?”
“Like I’m going to tell you that. Besides, it’ll be all over the news already.”
“Come on, Alex. Throw me a bone here. I’m bored out of my skull doing research. I could use a crime scene right now. So what happened? It can’t be Slasherazzi, otherwise there’d be pictures. Is there blood and guts?”
“See you tonight, Vince.”
I hung up and slipped the cell back into my pocket before walking over to the cabin. Powell glanced up at me as I stopped by his side.
“No luck,” I said. “Doesn’t look like it’s our guy.”
Powell shrugged and began to walk off, with the other agents trailing behind. “Guess not,” he said. “If you find anything that connects the scene to the other victims, let us know immediately. I’m gonna check in with Marshall back at the office.”
“Well, shall we get to work?” Tanya asked.
“Be nice to do our job without the feds breathing down our necks,” I said, picking up a pair of gloves from the nearby table that had been set out. I snapped the latex over my hands and followed Tanya; she led me up onto the porch. Underneath the aroma of charred wood that hung in the air, a strong chemical smell caught at the top of my nose. I stopped and inhaled deeply through my nose.
“Gasoline,” Tanya said before I could ask. She turned and pointed a short distance to the edge of the clearing. A trail of blackened dirt led out to the point where the fire had probably started.
“Did we find anything?”
“Not yet. There are footprints heading off into the trees. We have a couple of officers accompanying one of the local rangers to see where the tracks lead.”
“Hopefully to some evidence,” I said, taking in the burned remains of the cabin. The place was one large room, with what appeared to be the remains of a bed at the far end. Most of the fabric had been turned to dust, leaving behind only a few cremated strips hanging from the metal skeleton. A door in the corner had been reduced to only a few stumps, revealing the bathroom beyond.
The broken bones of the cabin jutted up from the ground, which was covered in splinters, ash, and puddles of water leftover from the firefighters attempt to save the small hut. Much of the roof was gone, leaving beams of wood laid across the open space. I stepped over one of the fallen rafters and toward the heart of the room where a table had collapsed, its legs unable to hold the weight of the body on top.
I swallowed hard, leaving an almost metallic taste at the back of my throat. The corpse had been reduced to little more than a husk, the skin sunken inward over the gaunt frame and fried to a crisp. With the condition of the body, and the cabin, there would be little evidence to gather. The fire and water had made sure of that.
Still, there were tiny clues left behind. Little pieces of the puzzle that even the elements couldn’t hide, like the fact the body was missing almost an entire leg. “What do you make of the missing leg?” I asked.
Tanya shrugged. “No sign of it anywhere. Could be an amputee. Guess we’ll find out more once we get a name for our vic. It’s either that…”
“Or our killer took it.” I let out a long breath and rubbed my forehead. “I’m hoping for the former. What do you reckon the chances are this guy was a vet who lost his leg during his service?”
“About the same chance as Slasherazzi showing up on our doorstep to turn himself in,” Tanya replied. “Wouldn’t get your hopes up. I’ve got Marco back at the office running the address to see who owned the place. Should hear back from him soon.”
I kneeled down next to the corpse to get a closer look. “So, you reckon he was tied down to the table?”
Tanya nodded. “How else do you keep a man still while he burns to death?”
“Unless he was already dead. The fire is probably just to cover up any evidence.”
“Okay, Sherlock, then answer me this. If you’re gonna kill a man, then why would you lay him neatly across the table?”
I shrugged and cocked my head to one side. “I guess you wouldn’t unless he was still alive. If you were gonna remove a leg, then you’d need some way to keep the victim immobilized long enough.”
“Now take a closer look,” Tanya said, crouching down beside me and pointing to the surface of the table. Melted into the burned wood was a thick strip of black that ran over the body. There were more toward the bottom where his feet would have been.
“Duct tape,” I muttered. Tied down, amputated, then cremated, dead or alive. “Shit, this is looking more and more like we have another psycho on our hands.”
“Tell me about it.” Tanya stood and paced across the room. “Bad enough we got one guy out there we can’t catch. Let’s just hope this kill was a one-off.”
“Yeah, but why take the leg?” I scratched at the stubble on my chin. “That’s not normal murder behavior. I’d be willing to bet we’ll have another body show up before long.”
“Don’t you be jinxing it, Beckman,” a voice called from behind. I glanced over my shoulder at Michelle. She stood over the body and pursed her lips. “The morgue is getting full enough already without adding another serial into the mix. Mind you, doesn’t look like I’ll get much information out of this one. Are you guys done? I’d like to get the body shipped back as soon as possible. We’re behind as it is with all the murders lately.”
“Sure. Go ahead,” I replied.
“Thanks.”
I stood and walked out into the open, discarding my gloves into a black bin liner that hung from a nearby tree branch. “So, what now?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Tanya said. “Guess we wait for an ID, or see if the footprints lead us to anything. Why don’t we head back to the office? Maybe while we’ve been gone, the feds will have magically solved the Slasherazzi case.”
I snorted. “Yeah, because they’re just that fucking special.”
“They got to where they are for a reason,” Tanya said, narrowing her gaze at me. “And I know you’re secretly glad to let someone else take the brunt of the case.”
I lowered my head and sighed. “Yeah, maybe. I would have preferred to solve it rather than handing it off to the feds, though.”
“You and me both,” Tanya replied. “You and me both. Come on, let’s see if we can’t get this one behind bars before another body shows up.”