It looks like you're using an Ad Blocker.
Please white-list or disable AboveTopSecret.com in your ad-blocking tool.
Thank you.
Some features of ATS will be disabled while you continue to use an ad-blocker.
The Devil Within
page: 1share:
The summer wind hit my face, moist and warm. The harvest moon, in its yellow splender is carving shadows in the night. I could smell him. That cheap
cologne, that makes my stomach turn. I started to sweat because of the condensation, and I took off one of my gloves to whipe it from my shaved head.
No need to leave hair on the body. This was two years in the making. The recovery, the rehabilitation, the strength training and of course the
killing. The first time I killed a dog, I cried. Can you believe it? Have I ever been the crying type? Now I stalk my prey, I wanted it to happen
faster, but circumstances just would'nt prermit. So many obstacles to overcome. I have come a long way, I have done terrible wonderful things
detective I figure if you and I are going to play this game, you should have some background. Then again you know me. We were friends right? So much
has happened, you came close so many times, Marcus. Can I still call you that?
He was in the alley, you know that, but where did I hide that body? Let me think. Oh yes, first things first. Why Im now a serial killer. You read the case file, you even looked for the killer for me. You didnt find s#it, which doesnt suprise me. I found more in one month than you did in one year. I had him right there, at the end of my knife. The careful planning, the hours, days, weeks, MONTHS! Finally that momment came! Oh and how sweat it was, and oh how my devil loved it! He rejoiced! We digress
He was in the alley, you know that, but where did I hide that body? Let me think. Oh yes, first things first. Why Im now a serial killer. You read the case file, you even looked for the killer for me. You didnt find s#it, which doesnt suprise me. I found more in one month than you did in one year. I had him right there, at the end of my knife. The careful planning, the hours, days, weeks, MONTHS! Finally that momment came! Oh and how sweat it was, and oh how my devil loved it! He rejoiced! We digress
reply to post by godsmokes
Someone like him. Only more brutal. What do you think? I think Dexter turned into a giant vagina. I want to bring back the brutal reality of murder.
Did you like it?
Someone like him. Only more brutal. What do you think? I think Dexter turned into a giant vagina. I want to bring back the brutal reality of murder.
Did you like it?
Cont.
I remeber that day well Marcus. Like it happened yesterday. That sickly copper smell, the bright colors once the kitchen light was turned on. It truly was a spirtual awakening in the most profound way! I look back now and I am thankfull, thats not right is it? I should be shrouded in melancholy, but alas the part of me that had feelings has died. Let me tell you a story, about me, about us. Let me lay it out for you. In the only way I know how, see I made a story about it. I think its time for the world to know. This is part manifesto, part autobiography things are crazy these days and my mind is all over the place.
I remember waking up because it was cold. Thats not entirely odd as it was winter. What was odd is the ammount of cold I felt, I knew I turned on the heat so that means a window was open somewhere that I forgot to close. That was impossible though, I checked them all. Then I noticed that my wife wasnt by my side. That wasnt odd at all either, she had a habbit of getting up in the middle of the night for a snack. She would complaine the next day of heartburn, she never learned Marcus. So I get out of bed and right away I knew something wasnt right, it was really cold. So I put on my slippers and decided to piss. As Im doing that a cold breeze hits me, so I know something is open. After I was done I tip toed into the two other rooms on the upper floor as not to let my wife know I was up, I was planning on scaring her.
Okay no more time, will do more in a while. GIVE ME FEED BACK..lol. I would love it negitive or positive.
I remeber that day well Marcus. Like it happened yesterday. That sickly copper smell, the bright colors once the kitchen light was turned on. It truly was a spirtual awakening in the most profound way! I look back now and I am thankfull, thats not right is it? I should be shrouded in melancholy, but alas the part of me that had feelings has died. Let me tell you a story, about me, about us. Let me lay it out for you. In the only way I know how, see I made a story about it. I think its time for the world to know. This is part manifesto, part autobiography things are crazy these days and my mind is all over the place.
I remember waking up because it was cold. Thats not entirely odd as it was winter. What was odd is the ammount of cold I felt, I knew I turned on the heat so that means a window was open somewhere that I forgot to close. That was impossible though, I checked them all. Then I noticed that my wife wasnt by my side. That wasnt odd at all either, she had a habbit of getting up in the middle of the night for a snack. She would complaine the next day of heartburn, she never learned Marcus. So I get out of bed and right away I knew something wasnt right, it was really cold. So I put on my slippers and decided to piss. As Im doing that a cold breeze hits me, so I know something is open. After I was done I tip toed into the two other rooms on the upper floor as not to let my wife know I was up, I was planning on scaring her.
Okay no more time, will do more in a while. GIVE ME FEED BACK..lol. I would love it negitive or positive.
reply to post by Tylerdurden1
Cont.
So I after I checked the rooms I headed down stairs. I took off my slippers as not to make any noise. I knew that the fifth step down make a creaking noise, so I avoided that and as I got closer to the end of the stairs an overwhellming breez of cold air hit me. I knew something wasnt quite right, then I thought maybe she left the fridge open. I know its crazy, but you never think the worst I know that now. So as I got to the end of the stairs I seen that the land line we had hangin up next to the fridge on the wall was dangeling down to the floor. Still in was in some sort of daze. I reached for the light as I get goosebumps on my arm, and I can hear something sort of banging like a door open. I flip on the light.
The light blinded me for a few seconds, and as I focus it hits me. It smelled like penneys, that is the thought that came into my mind at the time. Then i smelled cologne mixed with it and it made me sick. As the focus came back there was this black red pool in my kitchen. The hairs on my neck stood up, and there laying in that pool was my pregnant wife. Face down not moving. The blood was on the cabnets in sprays, like rainbows drawn from a child. It was on the sink, the dish washer, dishes and the fridge. I immediately knelt down to pick my wife up. To this day I will never forget the sound.
It was like ripping velcro apart when I lifted her up. That goddamn smell. As I ripped her from the floor a spurt of blood came from her neck and I put my hand on it. She gurgled, and tried to say something. I dont remember crying for some reason. She was hysterical and lifted her arm up, and at first I thought she was giving me a hug. I started to tell her I was going to call 911, when I felt something like a sand bag hit me. I later learned it was a metal pipe. The blow stunned me, and for a few seconds I thought it was a dream. Like a nightmare. Then the feeling came, it split my head in two and I reached behind me only to get my hand and forearm broken. Then another blow hit me again, only it hit my wife too. All I remember seeing before the blood got into my eyes, its my wifes face. It was bashed in and her eye was hanging out of her head, mouth half open and that cold dead look in her eyes.
I stood up. I should have played dead, my wifes death hadent yet hit me, I still thought there was time to save her I know I was foolish. Then a cloud of black red covered my vision and I turned to my attacker now just a silhouette. He seamed to turn his body and I felt intense pain in my face and then numbness. I couldnt feel anything else from that point. All I remember is that smell of cologne, and reaching for the phone. I couldnt find it between the blows to the head and being blinded.
When you are about to die something happens. You let go, nothing matters and somehow you just know things will turn out. So you become calm, and you just float. I could tell you what I seen when I died that night, but words can describe it. It was feelings, and mental telepathy. Too put it frankly, I seen the light, the tunnel the feeling of peace. Then I seen her. She was holding the baby, my daughter looked so beautiful. My wife was saying something, I couldnt make it out though. Then I was slammed inside my body. The worst pain I ever felt in my life and they later told me I beged them for death. I was yelling it, and I was calling for death to bring me back to my wife and child. Something must have heard me, but it only brought death in another way. Death guided my hands now. Does this even make sense Marcus? Am I crazy? Was I given a demon? Is he me, or am I him?
Continued later.
Cont.
So I after I checked the rooms I headed down stairs. I took off my slippers as not to make any noise. I knew that the fifth step down make a creaking noise, so I avoided that and as I got closer to the end of the stairs an overwhellming breez of cold air hit me. I knew something wasnt quite right, then I thought maybe she left the fridge open. I know its crazy, but you never think the worst I know that now. So as I got to the end of the stairs I seen that the land line we had hangin up next to the fridge on the wall was dangeling down to the floor. Still in was in some sort of daze. I reached for the light as I get goosebumps on my arm, and I can hear something sort of banging like a door open. I flip on the light.
The light blinded me for a few seconds, and as I focus it hits me. It smelled like penneys, that is the thought that came into my mind at the time. Then i smelled cologne mixed with it and it made me sick. As the focus came back there was this black red pool in my kitchen. The hairs on my neck stood up, and there laying in that pool was my pregnant wife. Face down not moving. The blood was on the cabnets in sprays, like rainbows drawn from a child. It was on the sink, the dish washer, dishes and the fridge. I immediately knelt down to pick my wife up. To this day I will never forget the sound.
It was like ripping velcro apart when I lifted her up. That goddamn smell. As I ripped her from the floor a spurt of blood came from her neck and I put my hand on it. She gurgled, and tried to say something. I dont remember crying for some reason. She was hysterical and lifted her arm up, and at first I thought she was giving me a hug. I started to tell her I was going to call 911, when I felt something like a sand bag hit me. I later learned it was a metal pipe. The blow stunned me, and for a few seconds I thought it was a dream. Like a nightmare. Then the feeling came, it split my head in two and I reached behind me only to get my hand and forearm broken. Then another blow hit me again, only it hit my wife too. All I remember seeing before the blood got into my eyes, its my wifes face. It was bashed in and her eye was hanging out of her head, mouth half open and that cold dead look in her eyes.
I stood up. I should have played dead, my wifes death hadent yet hit me, I still thought there was time to save her I know I was foolish. Then a cloud of black red covered my vision and I turned to my attacker now just a silhouette. He seamed to turn his body and I felt intense pain in my face and then numbness. I couldnt feel anything else from that point. All I remember is that smell of cologne, and reaching for the phone. I couldnt find it between the blows to the head and being blinded.
When you are about to die something happens. You let go, nothing matters and somehow you just know things will turn out. So you become calm, and you just float. I could tell you what I seen when I died that night, but words can describe it. It was feelings, and mental telepathy. Too put it frankly, I seen the light, the tunnel the feeling of peace. Then I seen her. She was holding the baby, my daughter looked so beautiful. My wife was saying something, I couldnt make it out though. Then I was slammed inside my body. The worst pain I ever felt in my life and they later told me I beged them for death. I was yelling it, and I was calling for death to bring me back to my wife and child. Something must have heard me, but it only brought death in another way. Death guided my hands now. Does this even make sense Marcus? Am I crazy? Was I given a demon? Is he me, or am I him?
Continued later.
edit on 2-7-2013 by Tylerdurden1 because: (no reason given)
edit on 2-7-2013 by Tylerdurden1 because: (no
reason given)
I'll try to take time later to re-read this. It needs a re-work with spelling and other errors, but has potential.
Okay so I edited a bit, and stuck it all together.
The summer wind hit my face, moist and warm. The harvest moon, in its yellow splendor is carving shadows in the night. I could smell him. That cheap cologne, that makes my stomach turn. I started to sweat because of the condensation, and I took off one of my gloves to wipe it from my shaved head. No need to leave hair on the body. This was two years in the making. The recovery, the rehabilitation, the strength training and of course the killing. The first time I killed a dog, I cried. Can you believe it? Have I ever been the crying type? Now I stalk my prey, I wanted it to happen faster, but circumstances just wouldn’t permit. So many obstacles to overcome. I have come a long way, I have done terrible wonderful things detective I figure if you and I are going to play this game, you should have some background. Then again you know me. We were friends right? So much has happened, you came close so many times, Marcus. Can I still call you that?
He was in the alley, you know that, but where did I hide that body? Let me think. Oh yes, first things first. Why I’m now a serial killer. You read the case file, you even looked for the killer for me. You didn’t find s#it, which doesn’t surprise me. I found more in one month than you did in one year. I had him right there, at the end of my knife. The careful planning, the hours, days, weeks, MONTHS! Finally that moment came! Oh and how sweat it was, and oh how my devil loved it! He rejoiced! We digress
I remember that day well Marcus. Like it happened yesterday. That sickly copper smell, the bright colors once the kitchen light was turned on. It truly was a spiritual awakening in the most profound way! I look back now and I am thankful, that’s not right is it? I should be shrouded in melancholy, but alas the part of me that had feelings has died. Let me tell you a story, about me, about us. Let me lay it out for you. In the only way I know how, see I made a story about it. I think its time for the world to know. This is part manifesto, part autobiography things are crazy these days and my mind is all over the place.
I remember waking up because it was cold. That’s not entirely odd as it was winter. What was odd is the amount of cold I felt, I knew I turned on the heat so that means a window was open somewhere that I forgot to close. That was impossible though, I checked them all. Then I noticed that my wife wasn’t by my side. That wasn’t odd at all either, she had a habit of getting up in the middle of the night for a snack. She would complain the next day of heartburn, she never learned Marcus. So I get out of bed and right away I knew something wasn’t right, it was really cold. So I put on my slippers and decided to piss. As I’m doing that a cold breeze hits me, so I know something is open. After I was done I tip toed into the two other rooms on the upper floor as not to let my wife know I was up, I was planning on scaring her.
So I after I checked the rooms I headed down stairs. I took off my slippers as not to make any noise. I knew that the fifth step down make a creaking noise, so I avoided that and as I got closer to the end of the stairs an overwhelming breeze of cold air hit me. I knew something wasn’t quite right, then I thought maybe she left the fridge open. I know its crazy, but you never think the worst I know that now. So as I got to the end of the stairs I seen that the land line we had hanging up next to the fridge on the wall was dangling down to the floor. Still in was in some sort of daze. I reached for the light as I get goose bumps on my arm, and I can hear something sort of banging like a door open. I flip on the light.
The light blinded me for a few seconds, and as I focus it hits me. It smelled like copper that is the thought that came into my mind at the time. Then i smelled cologne mixed with it and it made me sick. As the focus came back there was this black red pool in my kitchen. The hairs on my neck stood up, and there laying in that pool was my pregnant wife. Face down not moving. The blood was on the cabinets in sprays, like rainbows drawn from a child. It was on the sink, the dish washer, dishes and the fridge. I immediately knelt down to pick my wife up. To this day I will never forget the sound.
It was like ripping Velcro apart when I lifted her up. That goddamn smell. As I ripped her from the floor a spurt of blood came from her neck and I put my hand on it. She gurgled, and tried to say something. I don’t remember crying for some reason. She was hysterical and lifted her arm up, and at first I thought she was giving me a hug. I started to tell her I was going to call 911, when I felt something like a sand bag hit me. I later learned it was a metal pipe. The blow stunned me, and for a few seconds I thought it was a dream. Like a nightmare. Then the feeling came, it split my head in two and I reached behind me only to get my hand and forearm broken. Then another blow hit me again, only it hit my wife too. All I remember seeing before the blood got into my eyes, its my wife’s face. It was bashed in and her eye was hanging out of her head, mouth half open and that cold dead look in her eyes.
I stood up. I should have played dead, my wife’s death hadn’t yet hit me, I still thought there was time to save her I know I was foolish. Then a cloud of black red covered my vision and I turned to my attacker now just a silhouette. He seamed to turn his body and I felt intense pain in my face and then numbness. I couldn’t feel anything else from that point. All I remember is that smell of cologne, and reaching for the phone. I couldn’t find it between the blows to the head and being blinded.
When you are about to die something happens. You let go, nothing matters and somehow you just know things will turn out. So you become calm, and you just float. I could tell you what I seen when I died that night, but words can describe it. It was feelings, and mental telepathy. Too put it frankly, I seen the light, the tunnel the feeling of peace. Then I seen her. She was holding the baby, my daughter looked so beautiful. My wife was saying something, I couldn’t make it out though. Then I was slammed inside my body. The worst pain I ever felt in my life and they later told me I begged them for death. I was yelling it, and I was calling for death to bring me back to my wife and child. Something must have heard me, but it only brought death in another way. Death guided my hands now. Does this even make sense Marcus? Am I crazy? Was I given a demon? Is he me, or am I him?
The summer wind hit my face, moist and warm. The harvest moon, in its yellow splendor is carving shadows in the night. I could smell him. That cheap cologne, that makes my stomach turn. I started to sweat because of the condensation, and I took off one of my gloves to wipe it from my shaved head. No need to leave hair on the body. This was two years in the making. The recovery, the rehabilitation, the strength training and of course the killing. The first time I killed a dog, I cried. Can you believe it? Have I ever been the crying type? Now I stalk my prey, I wanted it to happen faster, but circumstances just wouldn’t permit. So many obstacles to overcome. I have come a long way, I have done terrible wonderful things detective I figure if you and I are going to play this game, you should have some background. Then again you know me. We were friends right? So much has happened, you came close so many times, Marcus. Can I still call you that?
He was in the alley, you know that, but where did I hide that body? Let me think. Oh yes, first things first. Why I’m now a serial killer. You read the case file, you even looked for the killer for me. You didn’t find s#it, which doesn’t surprise me. I found more in one month than you did in one year. I had him right there, at the end of my knife. The careful planning, the hours, days, weeks, MONTHS! Finally that moment came! Oh and how sweat it was, and oh how my devil loved it! He rejoiced! We digress
I remember that day well Marcus. Like it happened yesterday. That sickly copper smell, the bright colors once the kitchen light was turned on. It truly was a spiritual awakening in the most profound way! I look back now and I am thankful, that’s not right is it? I should be shrouded in melancholy, but alas the part of me that had feelings has died. Let me tell you a story, about me, about us. Let me lay it out for you. In the only way I know how, see I made a story about it. I think its time for the world to know. This is part manifesto, part autobiography things are crazy these days and my mind is all over the place.
I remember waking up because it was cold. That’s not entirely odd as it was winter. What was odd is the amount of cold I felt, I knew I turned on the heat so that means a window was open somewhere that I forgot to close. That was impossible though, I checked them all. Then I noticed that my wife wasn’t by my side. That wasn’t odd at all either, she had a habit of getting up in the middle of the night for a snack. She would complain the next day of heartburn, she never learned Marcus. So I get out of bed and right away I knew something wasn’t right, it was really cold. So I put on my slippers and decided to piss. As I’m doing that a cold breeze hits me, so I know something is open. After I was done I tip toed into the two other rooms on the upper floor as not to let my wife know I was up, I was planning on scaring her.
So I after I checked the rooms I headed down stairs. I took off my slippers as not to make any noise. I knew that the fifth step down make a creaking noise, so I avoided that and as I got closer to the end of the stairs an overwhelming breeze of cold air hit me. I knew something wasn’t quite right, then I thought maybe she left the fridge open. I know its crazy, but you never think the worst I know that now. So as I got to the end of the stairs I seen that the land line we had hanging up next to the fridge on the wall was dangling down to the floor. Still in was in some sort of daze. I reached for the light as I get goose bumps on my arm, and I can hear something sort of banging like a door open. I flip on the light.
The light blinded me for a few seconds, and as I focus it hits me. It smelled like copper that is the thought that came into my mind at the time. Then i smelled cologne mixed with it and it made me sick. As the focus came back there was this black red pool in my kitchen. The hairs on my neck stood up, and there laying in that pool was my pregnant wife. Face down not moving. The blood was on the cabinets in sprays, like rainbows drawn from a child. It was on the sink, the dish washer, dishes and the fridge. I immediately knelt down to pick my wife up. To this day I will never forget the sound.
It was like ripping Velcro apart when I lifted her up. That goddamn smell. As I ripped her from the floor a spurt of blood came from her neck and I put my hand on it. She gurgled, and tried to say something. I don’t remember crying for some reason. She was hysterical and lifted her arm up, and at first I thought she was giving me a hug. I started to tell her I was going to call 911, when I felt something like a sand bag hit me. I later learned it was a metal pipe. The blow stunned me, and for a few seconds I thought it was a dream. Like a nightmare. Then the feeling came, it split my head in two and I reached behind me only to get my hand and forearm broken. Then another blow hit me again, only it hit my wife too. All I remember seeing before the blood got into my eyes, its my wife’s face. It was bashed in and her eye was hanging out of her head, mouth half open and that cold dead look in her eyes.
I stood up. I should have played dead, my wife’s death hadn’t yet hit me, I still thought there was time to save her I know I was foolish. Then a cloud of black red covered my vision and I turned to my attacker now just a silhouette. He seamed to turn his body and I felt intense pain in my face and then numbness. I couldn’t feel anything else from that point. All I remember is that smell of cologne, and reaching for the phone. I couldn’t find it between the blows to the head and being blinded.
When you are about to die something happens. You let go, nothing matters and somehow you just know things will turn out. So you become calm, and you just float. I could tell you what I seen when I died that night, but words can describe it. It was feelings, and mental telepathy. Too put it frankly, I seen the light, the tunnel the feeling of peace. Then I seen her. She was holding the baby, my daughter looked so beautiful. My wife was saying something, I couldn’t make it out though. Then I was slammed inside my body. The worst pain I ever felt in my life and they later told me I begged them for death. I was yelling it, and I was calling for death to bring me back to my wife and child. Something must have heard me, but it only brought death in another way. Death guided my hands now. Does this even make sense Marcus? Am I crazy? Was I given a demon? Is he me, or am I him?
Great imagery, intrigue and suspense! Still needs a little editing, but that's why writer's have editors for their books. Right LOL Good job!
reply to post by Night Star
Thank you! Im going to write a bit more when I have time so look out for it!
Thank you! Im going to write a bit more when I have time so look out for it!
I honestly don’t know, the lines are getting blurry and when I am in the midst of killing I don’t care. The hospital bed was the worst, as well as
the bed sores. Getting up every day and walking a few steps, was so degrading considering that I used to run the mile in under 6 min. Marcus life has
been hell ever since. There were a few times where I just wanted to give up, turn myself in, but the demon won’t let me, he screams for blood. He
wants to swim in the blood filled pools of my nightmares.
Spending time in that hospital gave me time to think, it gave me time to recoup my thoughts and make plans. Wonderful plans, not just for my wife’s killer, but plans for every person out there who deserves it. I have evolved, and I will keep evolving and soon you won’t be able to stop me. You follow the books! How pathetic! You cant catch me, I’m always ahead of you! I know you Marcus. You know me, well you knew me. That demon I put to bed every night in that hospital is now reborn, and ready for vengeance against the world! The World Marcus.
So here we are. You and I, locked into a battle of wills, and cunning. How many can I kill before you catch me? How many different murder scenes can I create before I’m brought out into the light. Are you ready for this Marcus, because the world is not. I used to be such a nice man.
Spending time in that hospital gave me time to think, it gave me time to recoup my thoughts and make plans. Wonderful plans, not just for my wife’s killer, but plans for every person out there who deserves it. I have evolved, and I will keep evolving and soon you won’t be able to stop me. You follow the books! How pathetic! You cant catch me, I’m always ahead of you! I know you Marcus. You know me, well you knew me. That demon I put to bed every night in that hospital is now reborn, and ready for vengeance against the world! The World Marcus.
So here we are. You and I, locked into a battle of wills, and cunning. How many can I kill before you catch me? How many different murder scenes can I create before I’m brought out into the light. Are you ready for this Marcus, because the world is not. I used to be such a nice man.
I honestly don’t know, the lines are getting blurry and when I am in the midst of killing I don’t care. The hospital bed was the worst, as well as
the bed sores. Getting up every day and walking a few steps, was so degrading considering that I used to run the mile in under 6 min. Marcus life has
been hell ever since. There were a few times where I just wanted to give up, turn myself in, but the demon won’t let me, he screams for blood. He
wants to swim in the blood filled pools of my nightmares.
Spending time in that hospital gave me time to think, it gave me time to recoup my thoughts and make plans. Wonderful plans, not just for my wife’s killer, but plans for every person out there who deserves it. I have evolved, and I will keep evolving and soon you won’t be able to stop me. You follow the books! How pathetic! You can’t catch me, I’m always ahead of you! I know you Marcus. You know me, well you knew me. That demon I put to bed every night in that hospital is now reborn, and ready for vengeance against the world! The World Marcus.
So here we are. You and I locked into a battle of wills, and cunning. How many can I kill before you catch me? How many different murder scenes can I create before I’m brought out into the light? Are you ready for this Marcus, because the world is not? I used to be such a nice man.
Marcus put the letter down, and stroked his now salt and pepper beard. He got up and poured himself his favorite drink, vodka on the rocks. He sat back down, and took the gloves off that he was wearing to handle the letter. He flipped on a desk lamp and pointed it at the two pages spread out on his desk. He first looked for any hairs that might be on the letter, nothing. He started dusting for prints, and found nothing as well. Frustrated he took a long sip of the vodka.
He leaned back into the office chair. He recently started taking his work home with him keeping up with John was getting harder and harder. He didn’t see his kids as often as he had liked, even now he doesn’t. Marcus looks him self in his study. Literally. There are so many case files he looks at from other murderers he doesn’t want them to see any of it. Now he has John. His former best friend, former confidant. John knows where Marcus lives, knows most of his secrets and damn near knows every weakness that Marcus has.
Marcus didn’t know John had turned into a serial killer. John’s strange behavior was written of by Marcus as just mourning over the loss of his wife. He never knew that John killed a few people a month. That part of the letter where John said that Marcus came close so many times struck a cord with him. There was one time where Marcus came in on John stuffing something into his trunk; they were due to have steaks and beers. Marcus had been knocking on John’s door for a few minuets before he decided to go around back to see if he was in the garage.
He was and was stuffing something into the trunk and slammed it double quick when he heard Marcus. Of course Marcus’s cop instincts were going off, but quickly went away when John told him that it was the rest of the bloody clothing from his wife. John held on to it after he got out of the hospital. To that empty house, that wasn’t a home anymore. Before John got there Marcus had a few of the guys from the precinct clean the mess out of the kitchen and the living room where they found John. He said it was the only thing he had of his wife, the closest he could get. Marcus thought that weird but people grieve in their own way. They had steaks that night a few beers and Marcus went home, never thinking about the incident again. Marcus noticed John was never the same. A few times he would look over at John’s house across the street and see John leaving late at night, sometimes on foot sometimes in his car. Most of the time it was past midnight.
Marcus just thought he couldn’t sleep and was going for a walk or a drink. There is a bar two blocks from the houses in a shopping mall.
Spending time in that hospital gave me time to think, it gave me time to recoup my thoughts and make plans. Wonderful plans, not just for my wife’s killer, but plans for every person out there who deserves it. I have evolved, and I will keep evolving and soon you won’t be able to stop me. You follow the books! How pathetic! You can’t catch me, I’m always ahead of you! I know you Marcus. You know me, well you knew me. That demon I put to bed every night in that hospital is now reborn, and ready for vengeance against the world! The World Marcus.
So here we are. You and I locked into a battle of wills, and cunning. How many can I kill before you catch me? How many different murder scenes can I create before I’m brought out into the light? Are you ready for this Marcus, because the world is not? I used to be such a nice man.
Marcus put the letter down, and stroked his now salt and pepper beard. He got up and poured himself his favorite drink, vodka on the rocks. He sat back down, and took the gloves off that he was wearing to handle the letter. He flipped on a desk lamp and pointed it at the two pages spread out on his desk. He first looked for any hairs that might be on the letter, nothing. He started dusting for prints, and found nothing as well. Frustrated he took a long sip of the vodka.
He leaned back into the office chair. He recently started taking his work home with him keeping up with John was getting harder and harder. He didn’t see his kids as often as he had liked, even now he doesn’t. Marcus looks him self in his study. Literally. There are so many case files he looks at from other murderers he doesn’t want them to see any of it. Now he has John. His former best friend, former confidant. John knows where Marcus lives, knows most of his secrets and damn near knows every weakness that Marcus has.
Marcus didn’t know John had turned into a serial killer. John’s strange behavior was written of by Marcus as just mourning over the loss of his wife. He never knew that John killed a few people a month. That part of the letter where John said that Marcus came close so many times struck a cord with him. There was one time where Marcus came in on John stuffing something into his trunk; they were due to have steaks and beers. Marcus had been knocking on John’s door for a few minuets before he decided to go around back to see if he was in the garage.
He was and was stuffing something into the trunk and slammed it double quick when he heard Marcus. Of course Marcus’s cop instincts were going off, but quickly went away when John told him that it was the rest of the bloody clothing from his wife. John held on to it after he got out of the hospital. To that empty house, that wasn’t a home anymore. Before John got there Marcus had a few of the guys from the precinct clean the mess out of the kitchen and the living room where they found John. He said it was the only thing he had of his wife, the closest he could get. Marcus thought that weird but people grieve in their own way. They had steaks that night a few beers and Marcus went home, never thinking about the incident again. Marcus noticed John was never the same. A few times he would look over at John’s house across the street and see John leaving late at night, sometimes on foot sometimes in his car. Most of the time it was past midnight.
Marcus just thought he couldn’t sleep and was going for a walk or a drink. There is a bar two blocks from the houses in a shopping mall.
reply to post by Night Star
Marcus finished his drink in two very big gulps and felt the burn though his chest. It’s on now. Marcus was thinking about retirement, that’s until John went crazy. It sparked a new interest in him; he could see himself tracking serial killers. This would make a good case study to any head shrink. Marcus laughed at bit at that. He could read the notes now.
“Subject a manic depressive introvert, given to grandiose delusions at times…”
That was just to describe himself. Marcus had another laugh at that. Marcus was a simple man, never had anything of value until he became a sergeant in the police force. He was a proud man, but shied away from the lime light. One minuet Marcus would be bringing in doughnuts’ for his squad, and the next minuet he would be yelling and hiding in his office. That’s when people noticed a problem with him, that’s when Marcus started to take an anti-psychotic drug. That’s when Marcus became a zombie in uniform and quit having an interest all together in his work entirely. Then John came along, a sweet dark angle. They became fast friends.
John would talk to Marcus for hours and Marcus admired him. Marcus did that a bit too much in fact, and started to have some weird feelings about him. So much so that Marcus found himself hating Maria, John’s wife. He quickly slid all that under the rug, and didn’t look back. How could one like other men, and be on the police force? That # doesn’t happen. So Marcus’s admiration had turned to obsession over something he could never have. That would probably explain why he let so many things slide when I came to John. He knows thats a mistake now.
Marcus got up from his chair with a wobble and went to the bathroom. Flipping on the light hurt his eyes, he had been sitting in the near darkness for three hours going over the letter and just thinking. He also didn’t notice that he poured two other drinks before he sat down to read the letter. Marcus gripped the sink with head down trying to focus on the speckles in the material. He thought he should change that. He looked up and for a split second he seen Johns face, very weird and he passed it off to his buzz.
Marcus started to lather his face with shaving cream, and then noticed how long his beard became, and just how far he had fallen. It wasn’t the fact that he was caught drinking on the job, it wasn’t the fact that he threw a fit and made a scene at the office; it wasn’t even when he ended up in a cell for public drunkenness. It was right here, the hard grizzled face of a washed up police sergeant. Being black on the force was tough enough, but becoming captain? Marcus always wanted to be that guy, but when the time came he choked. He started drinking; he started to notice the faces giving him a dirty look. He knew racism was never gone, just swept under the rug like his feeling for John. The pressure became too much. Marcus came home after the tank at the police station after the scoff and laughs, and maybe disappointment, and stopped taking his meds. He started to dink more waiting out his sentence to see if he will still be a cop.
The word came down, yesterday. Two days before he saw the news of the murder of John’s nemesis. Mr. Allen Carter. The verdict was that he can return to the police force but only under probation, a pay cut and a desk job. They made an example of him; even his human resource advocate said it was harsh. It might be that New York is trying to save face? It might be that Marcus was black, and this is a warning to all black folk who try to dare to dream? Maybe they know he is a closeted homosexual? Who knows at this point, all he knows is that letter has to be reported, and that he is named in the letter. He knows he could make a strong case for his involvement.
Marcus stopped thinking for a second and looked up at the mirror. There is that broken man, that secretive, mentally disturbed person who has been hiding. Welcome back. Welcome to your new life you still look the same.
Marcus finished his drink in two very big gulps and felt the burn though his chest. It’s on now. Marcus was thinking about retirement, that’s until John went crazy. It sparked a new interest in him; he could see himself tracking serial killers. This would make a good case study to any head shrink. Marcus laughed at bit at that. He could read the notes now.
“Subject a manic depressive introvert, given to grandiose delusions at times…”
That was just to describe himself. Marcus had another laugh at that. Marcus was a simple man, never had anything of value until he became a sergeant in the police force. He was a proud man, but shied away from the lime light. One minuet Marcus would be bringing in doughnuts’ for his squad, and the next minuet he would be yelling and hiding in his office. That’s when people noticed a problem with him, that’s when Marcus started to take an anti-psychotic drug. That’s when Marcus became a zombie in uniform and quit having an interest all together in his work entirely. Then John came along, a sweet dark angle. They became fast friends.
John would talk to Marcus for hours and Marcus admired him. Marcus did that a bit too much in fact, and started to have some weird feelings about him. So much so that Marcus found himself hating Maria, John’s wife. He quickly slid all that under the rug, and didn’t look back. How could one like other men, and be on the police force? That # doesn’t happen. So Marcus’s admiration had turned to obsession over something he could never have. That would probably explain why he let so many things slide when I came to John. He knows thats a mistake now.
Marcus got up from his chair with a wobble and went to the bathroom. Flipping on the light hurt his eyes, he had been sitting in the near darkness for three hours going over the letter and just thinking. He also didn’t notice that he poured two other drinks before he sat down to read the letter. Marcus gripped the sink with head down trying to focus on the speckles in the material. He thought he should change that. He looked up and for a split second he seen Johns face, very weird and he passed it off to his buzz.
Marcus started to lather his face with shaving cream, and then noticed how long his beard became, and just how far he had fallen. It wasn’t the fact that he was caught drinking on the job, it wasn’t the fact that he threw a fit and made a scene at the office; it wasn’t even when he ended up in a cell for public drunkenness. It was right here, the hard grizzled face of a washed up police sergeant. Being black on the force was tough enough, but becoming captain? Marcus always wanted to be that guy, but when the time came he choked. He started drinking; he started to notice the faces giving him a dirty look. He knew racism was never gone, just swept under the rug like his feeling for John. The pressure became too much. Marcus came home after the tank at the police station after the scoff and laughs, and maybe disappointment, and stopped taking his meds. He started to dink more waiting out his sentence to see if he will still be a cop.
The word came down, yesterday. Two days before he saw the news of the murder of John’s nemesis. Mr. Allen Carter. The verdict was that he can return to the police force but only under probation, a pay cut and a desk job. They made an example of him; even his human resource advocate said it was harsh. It might be that New York is trying to save face? It might be that Marcus was black, and this is a warning to all black folk who try to dare to dream? Maybe they know he is a closeted homosexual? Who knows at this point, all he knows is that letter has to be reported, and that he is named in the letter. He knows he could make a strong case for his involvement.
Marcus stopped thinking for a second and looked up at the mirror. There is that broken man, that secretive, mentally disturbed person who has been hiding. Welcome back. Welcome to your new life you still look the same.
edit on 5-7-2013 by Tylerdurden1 because: (no reason given)
edit on 5-7-2013 by Tylerdurden1 because: (no reason
given)
edit on 5-7-2013 by Tylerdurden1 because: (no reason given)
edit on 5-7-2013 by Tylerdurden1 because: (no
reason given)
edit on 5-7-2013 by Tylerdurden1 because: I suck at spelling..LOL
Monday morning came as any other day would for Marcus. Only Marcus didn’t have shots in the morning, instead made a very strong pot of coffee. He
got dressed in his best suit, which was a brown non tailored suit that he found almost didn’t fit him. He had wing tipped shoes, a bit old school
but that’s how Marcus was. He was only forty one, but the grey hair was starting to show more than he wanted. Looking in the mirror at the ghost
that was now his reflection, small panic attack hit him. He opened the bottle of Xanax that was sitting next to about ten others. See Marcus had been
planning on killing himself if he could be a cop anymore. He had no other skills and who wants to hire a boozer? Thankfully those are given to him by
his doctor so after taking one, he put the bottle in his pocket and breathed in deeply and said,
“Lets do this, you can do this”.
Marcus grabbed the keys to his late model white Crown Victoria and the envelop with the letter in it, on a tiny table in his tiny apartment and locked the door behind him. The morning traffic out of his neighborhood was not too bad, but the streets of New York, lets just say you have to be quick with your feet. You will get cut off. Even at a red light, if you can believe that. Honking, glaring, yelling were all staples of a good New York Commute. The Xanax was kicking in and with the coffee Marcus was feeling, well normal.
Marcus showed his paperwork to the officer at the gate to the covered parking, after reviewing the paper work that officer said sorry and that he would have to park across the street. Across the street wasn’t even for the beat cops, it was for volunteers and secretaries. Marcus said to himself after smiling and thanking the officer,
“The hits just keep coming” and drove across the street to park. It was winter now, and the cold wind slapped him in the face after the heat was turned off. The only thing he liked about parking in the covered parking were the standing space heaters, they would keep you somewhat warm from your walk to the car.
Once inside the lobby, he had to check with the front desk lady, who he was sure he parked next to. Once checking in there, he had to go to the fourth floor for some paperwork. Once he got the paperwork filled out, he was to head to the 6th to drop it off, and then to the seventh to wait for his superiors on what his tasks will be. By the time he was waiting in the lobby of the seventh floor it was 4:.30 pm, and Marcus got there at 7:30 am. This was a very long day, and two Xanax later he was a bit tired. Finally the secretary said his name and he was on his way in to the lions den.
“Have a seat Marcus.” Capitan Swingser said pointing palm up to a seat in front of two other people, one of whom Marcus recognized the precincts shrink.
“So Marcus...” the one on the Capitan’s left was talking now, but Marcus didn’t know his name. “We heard you had a bit of trouble here a few months ago, and we are here to make sure your transition is as smooth as possible.” He then smiled big bright pearly whites.
“Who are you sir?” Marcus asked in the most respectful tone.
“Good question.” The man looked at Capitan Swingser, and Swingser nodded.
“I am Larry mend, your new supervisor.” He smiled without his teeth this time.
“I thought Tom Ridge was my supervisor?” Marcus looked at the Captain, but got the answer from Larry.
“Well you aren’t a Sargent anymore, so you wont be with the normal people your are used to working with. You can try to work back up to homicide, but you would be starting at the bottom with a past.”
“I see.” That was all that Marcus could muster, and a third Xanax was starting to look good to him.
“Listen Marcus this isn’t a punishment more as it is you getting back to what made you a cop in the first place. This about finding what gave you that fire in begin with” The Captain sounded convincing, but Marcus knew it was bulls#it.
“May I chime in?” It was Derek, the precincts shrink ready to hand out pills and make the cop population docile.
“Shure Derek, what did you have in mind?” the Capitan said a little to cheery for his own good.
“Well, counseling, one or twice a week. You can schedule it any time in that week or even do them back to back.” Fcuking great thought Marcus, not only have I been stripped of everything that mattered to me now this? Embracing.
“What about my parking spot? Or parking in general, I want covered parking.” Marcus was just changing the subject.
A look came over the three of them as puzzlement. They sat there for a few seconds, then the Capitan said,
“Sure. You got it Marcus”
“I have something to bring to your attention.” Marcus said, pulling out the envelope he brought with him.
“Look, there is no need to apologize, we all have these moments, we just need to bounce back..” Marcus cut off the Capitan.
“Its not about that, though I am truly sorry for what I did. I received a letter from John.” Marcus pulled out the plastic bag and laid on the Capitan’s desk.
“John who?” Said the Capitan, with a puzzled look.
“The John I used to know? The man who had his wife and unborn child killed, and then almost got murdered himself? The man who hunted down Allen Carter and killed him, did we ever find that mans body?” Said Marcus wondering if he himself was forgotten then a file brought up to bring people to speed.
“Now I remember.” The Capitan said looking at Derek.
“You worked that case for a while didn’t you? Well at least, looking for Marias killer, you didn’t get to do the follow up looking for John because of your incident here with the drinking and all. It drove a lot of our detectives crazy looking for that body, one of ours even ended up missing, only to find his throat slashed.” The Capitan lit a cigarette.
“So you got a letter from a fugitive, hand it over and we well have it analyzed, and checked for prints assuming yours are all over it.”
“I wore gloves Robert. There were no hairs in or on envelope, or pages, I did save the glue strip, for DNA to see if it’s who we are looking for. I want to be on this case.”
Capitan Swingser laughed out loud. Marcus remained serious, didn’t smile at all. The smile faded from the Capitan’s face.
“You’re serious. Absolutely not, you are no longer homicide, and won’t be for quiet some time. We will handle this and if you are on your best behavior, maybe I will throw you a few crumbs on this. Now go with Mend there and he will give you your new assignment.”
“Sir nobody knows John better than me, I can get him just give me a chance.” Marcus almost lost his composure.
“The answer is no, and don’t make me tell you again to follow your superior officer to you new assignment.” The Capitan sat half way up and started to get angry. So Marcus left it alone, but it wasn’t the last he would hear of Marcus, he might just have to go higher, which was frowned upon.
As Marcus was walking down the endless corridors to the auto theft division, he couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen next, will the bodies pile up? Or was John a one trick pony? He had the guts to kill Allen Carter. In the letter it didn’t even sound like him.
“Here we are this is you.” Larry was pointing to a small desk, two times smaller than the desk he had before this mess. It was in a row of others, now walls. Smoke hung in the air thick like smog. There were random coffee stains on the desk too.
“Bathrooms are over there, break room right next to it. Once you get settled you come see me for some case files. You did request to work night’s right?” Larry said half walking away.
“Yeah I did...” Marcus said looking around this dank, Smokey, poorly lit, depressing room. Looking up there was a sky light above his desk that might help.
“Good, you will find a lot of great guys here!” Larry was almost into his office now.
Looking around more, Marcus could see a few others smoking with their heads down making reports, building files upon endless files. So Marcus went to the break room, got some really terrible coffee and went to see Lary.
“Okay here you go.” Larry handed Marcus a thick stack of case file. “Are you familiar with what you have to do?”
“Yeah, call victims, write the reports organize them then work them while following leads.” Said Marcus as drab as drab could be.
“We don’t leave here. So once you have the file ready and all contacts, phone numbers, addresses organized, prep the file, and then give it to our unit that follows up on that lead. We found by splitting up that work people specialized in their jobs and the burn out rate was considerably less. So it should be a cake job for you.” Larry took a phone call and Marcus walked out and sat at his desk.
This was the next phase in Marcus’s life, a boring, mundane, lifeless dribble, those bottles of Xanax where starting to look good again, maybe he would have them for dinner sometime, with a nice bottle of vodka. So this is how it went. No more letters, just files, and files and files. One day Marcus came home to see a package at his door step, and he didn’t order anything.
Not taking a chance Marcus stepped over the box into his apartment. Put on some gloves, and took the box inside very carefully. There were no wires or smudges to indicate a hidden machine. With a box cutter Marcus carefully cut the box tape on the top. Stopping then taking a Xanax he began again. The tape was cut, now he peeled two of the folds back then the other two. What he found inside was another letter and a DVD.
Marcus read the Note first. Which read:
Dear Marcus, so sorry that they wont let you hunt me. They just don’t know how close we are. So here is something to convince them to let you on the case.
Best regards,
John.
Marcus opened the DVD sleeve and sat the DVD on the soft cloth he prepared. He checked the sleeve for finger prints and fibers, nothing was found, then the DVD, still nothing. He then went over the box and checked the tap to see if anything got caught, nothing did.
Marcus fired up the DVD player, and pressed play.
On the DVD, was John, and John talked to Marcus.
“Hey Marcus, how are you? I’m doing well as you can see”. John panned the camera to a chubby woman he had tied to a post in some sort of garage. There were metal chains attached to her hands, which bound them and chains on her feet as well. She was nude, except for her panties were still on. She seamed to be bleeding from the head quiet a bit as it slid down her half naked body. She was screaming against the gag ball he put in her mouth. John was wearing a rain suit of all things, bright yellow. His hair had gotten long too as well as his beard. John turned the camera back to him.
“So it’s been quite a while, you know when I wrote that letter you were still on your way to being Capitan. How long did you have that letter before you let the now Capitan have it? One and a half years? Paid probation, you got off lucky. They could have crucified you, well I guess they did in a way, at least your sprit has been crushed. Remember when we talked most nights about how you have just killing yourself and your job is just too much sometimes. You would say nothing exciting ever happens. Well Marcus now it has and what will you do? How will you chase me? Head on? From side to side like a snake?
Well I’m nothing without you am I? You are the hunter, and so am I. So what happens when a hunter is hunted? I chose you because who better to take me down? Who better to take me in guns blazing, looking like a fcuking rock star?
You deserve it the most because you have worked hard. That letter was just messing with you, letting you know I’m still alive and well. Now this one is to re light that fire Marcus just like the Capitan said.”
John panned the camera back to the woman, and set it on a tripod. He came in front of the camera wearing a mask. One that looked hand made of possible steel, and it was a devils face. Medium length horns and a twisted face with a smile. The steel looked like a dark red. John produced a knife, and then stuck it into the stomach of the woman who screams again against the gag ball. He then took it out twisted it upside down and a hook was visible, he stuck the knife back in the hole, and ripped it down splitting the stomach of the woman open.
She began to convulse and black out. He then reached in and pulled the bloody, stringy, fat spaghetti looking material out of her. Then Marcus noticed him digging further down, and produced a fetus. John turned back to the camera and asked behind the mask,
“Does this make you angry Marcus? Capitan Swingser, Marcus is lead on this do you understand? If not I will kill more people. I have had my eye on a certain nun I have been confessing to, it would be a shame for her to end up outside of an abortion clinic.” John switched off the camera. The DVD was over.
Marcus sat stunned, now he knows that John has gone off the deep end, his lust for blood, went far beyond revenge this time. It was in another realm. Why did he take that woman’s fetus out? How could he do that? After what happened to him you would think he would never have done that. Marcus knew what it meant, it meant that he was going to hunt John, and that it’s not even John anymore.
Marcus removed the DVD, from the player put it back in the sleeve, put the DVD and note into two separate bags, and went back to the station. The Capitan was just getting ready to leave.
“Sir you are going to need to see this.” No I can’t I have dinner with the wife, you know that.
“Its John Robert, he just sent me something. I opened it but didn’t look at what it was.” Marcus lied because he didn’t want the Capitan to suspend him again. “There is a DVD and a note, I did read the note.”
The Capitan turned a shade of red Marcus has never seen. He picked up the phone in his office, “Janelle, yes its Robert, can I speak to Chris? Chis it Robert I need you to come in, now. I know you just got to the restaurant, but it’s about that cold case John Manwell, are you familiar? Good, be here in an hour call Martinez and Cromwell on your way, put Janelle back on. Janelle I’m so sorry to drag your husband away but its time to catch the bad guys, I know, he will get that vacation don’t you worry. Okay…Okay Bye” The Capitan loosened then took off his tie.
“Thank you for the evidence Marcus, you are dismissed.” He wiped his brow that was starting to sweat.
“That was addressed to me again; I want to know what’s on the DVD. My life might be in danger.” Marcus was now inside the Capitan’s office.
“Fine, but don’t think for one second you will be on that team.” Said the Capitan and pointing at Marcus.
Chris Gain, Jean Martinez and Lab technician Lana Comwell arrive within minuets of each other. On arrival Lana dons some gloves and starts to head for the lab with Martinez, The Capitan, Martinez, Gain and Marcus in tow. Lana puts the letter on the lab light and turns it one, the letter printed on computer paper is now see through. She takes a microscope and goes over every inch of it, nothing. Then the same with the DVD and the DVD sleeve. Didn’t find fiber, or prints. She searched the box with the scope and found oil. Standard engine oil. Sold everywhere.
By the time comwell was finished, it was close seven o’clock in the evening. That meant that Marcus stopped his night shift at three in the morning so in all Marcus did a twenty five hour shift. Marcus could feel his eyes closing, until he was asleep in the chair. Woken up by the Capitan, with a cup of coffee.
“You should go home we will let you know what’s on the tape, get some sleep Marcus.” The Capitan looked sincere, but he doubted it, it was probably because he was tired.
Marcus stood up stretched and took a good pull from the coffee. He got into his car and drove home in a haze. He didn’t even remember closing the car door, or his apartment door. He fell into bed when it was dark, and woke up in the darkness the next day to pounding on his door
“Lets do this, you can do this”.
Marcus grabbed the keys to his late model white Crown Victoria and the envelop with the letter in it, on a tiny table in his tiny apartment and locked the door behind him. The morning traffic out of his neighborhood was not too bad, but the streets of New York, lets just say you have to be quick with your feet. You will get cut off. Even at a red light, if you can believe that. Honking, glaring, yelling were all staples of a good New York Commute. The Xanax was kicking in and with the coffee Marcus was feeling, well normal.
Marcus showed his paperwork to the officer at the gate to the covered parking, after reviewing the paper work that officer said sorry and that he would have to park across the street. Across the street wasn’t even for the beat cops, it was for volunteers and secretaries. Marcus said to himself after smiling and thanking the officer,
“The hits just keep coming” and drove across the street to park. It was winter now, and the cold wind slapped him in the face after the heat was turned off. The only thing he liked about parking in the covered parking were the standing space heaters, they would keep you somewhat warm from your walk to the car.
Once inside the lobby, he had to check with the front desk lady, who he was sure he parked next to. Once checking in there, he had to go to the fourth floor for some paperwork. Once he got the paperwork filled out, he was to head to the 6th to drop it off, and then to the seventh to wait for his superiors on what his tasks will be. By the time he was waiting in the lobby of the seventh floor it was 4:.30 pm, and Marcus got there at 7:30 am. This was a very long day, and two Xanax later he was a bit tired. Finally the secretary said his name and he was on his way in to the lions den.
“Have a seat Marcus.” Capitan Swingser said pointing palm up to a seat in front of two other people, one of whom Marcus recognized the precincts shrink.
“So Marcus...” the one on the Capitan’s left was talking now, but Marcus didn’t know his name. “We heard you had a bit of trouble here a few months ago, and we are here to make sure your transition is as smooth as possible.” He then smiled big bright pearly whites.
“Who are you sir?” Marcus asked in the most respectful tone.
“Good question.” The man looked at Capitan Swingser, and Swingser nodded.
“I am Larry mend, your new supervisor.” He smiled without his teeth this time.
“I thought Tom Ridge was my supervisor?” Marcus looked at the Captain, but got the answer from Larry.
“Well you aren’t a Sargent anymore, so you wont be with the normal people your are used to working with. You can try to work back up to homicide, but you would be starting at the bottom with a past.”
“I see.” That was all that Marcus could muster, and a third Xanax was starting to look good to him.
“Listen Marcus this isn’t a punishment more as it is you getting back to what made you a cop in the first place. This about finding what gave you that fire in begin with” The Captain sounded convincing, but Marcus knew it was bulls#it.
“May I chime in?” It was Derek, the precincts shrink ready to hand out pills and make the cop population docile.
“Shure Derek, what did you have in mind?” the Capitan said a little to cheery for his own good.
“Well, counseling, one or twice a week. You can schedule it any time in that week or even do them back to back.” Fcuking great thought Marcus, not only have I been stripped of everything that mattered to me now this? Embracing.
“What about my parking spot? Or parking in general, I want covered parking.” Marcus was just changing the subject.
A look came over the three of them as puzzlement. They sat there for a few seconds, then the Capitan said,
“Sure. You got it Marcus”
“I have something to bring to your attention.” Marcus said, pulling out the envelope he brought with him.
“Look, there is no need to apologize, we all have these moments, we just need to bounce back..” Marcus cut off the Capitan.
“Its not about that, though I am truly sorry for what I did. I received a letter from John.” Marcus pulled out the plastic bag and laid on the Capitan’s desk.
“John who?” Said the Capitan, with a puzzled look.
“The John I used to know? The man who had his wife and unborn child killed, and then almost got murdered himself? The man who hunted down Allen Carter and killed him, did we ever find that mans body?” Said Marcus wondering if he himself was forgotten then a file brought up to bring people to speed.
“Now I remember.” The Capitan said looking at Derek.
“You worked that case for a while didn’t you? Well at least, looking for Marias killer, you didn’t get to do the follow up looking for John because of your incident here with the drinking and all. It drove a lot of our detectives crazy looking for that body, one of ours even ended up missing, only to find his throat slashed.” The Capitan lit a cigarette.
“So you got a letter from a fugitive, hand it over and we well have it analyzed, and checked for prints assuming yours are all over it.”
“I wore gloves Robert. There were no hairs in or on envelope, or pages, I did save the glue strip, for DNA to see if it’s who we are looking for. I want to be on this case.”
Capitan Swingser laughed out loud. Marcus remained serious, didn’t smile at all. The smile faded from the Capitan’s face.
“You’re serious. Absolutely not, you are no longer homicide, and won’t be for quiet some time. We will handle this and if you are on your best behavior, maybe I will throw you a few crumbs on this. Now go with Mend there and he will give you your new assignment.”
“Sir nobody knows John better than me, I can get him just give me a chance.” Marcus almost lost his composure.
“The answer is no, and don’t make me tell you again to follow your superior officer to you new assignment.” The Capitan sat half way up and started to get angry. So Marcus left it alone, but it wasn’t the last he would hear of Marcus, he might just have to go higher, which was frowned upon.
As Marcus was walking down the endless corridors to the auto theft division, he couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen next, will the bodies pile up? Or was John a one trick pony? He had the guts to kill Allen Carter. In the letter it didn’t even sound like him.
“Here we are this is you.” Larry was pointing to a small desk, two times smaller than the desk he had before this mess. It was in a row of others, now walls. Smoke hung in the air thick like smog. There were random coffee stains on the desk too.
“Bathrooms are over there, break room right next to it. Once you get settled you come see me for some case files. You did request to work night’s right?” Larry said half walking away.
“Yeah I did...” Marcus said looking around this dank, Smokey, poorly lit, depressing room. Looking up there was a sky light above his desk that might help.
“Good, you will find a lot of great guys here!” Larry was almost into his office now.
Looking around more, Marcus could see a few others smoking with their heads down making reports, building files upon endless files. So Marcus went to the break room, got some really terrible coffee and went to see Lary.
“Okay here you go.” Larry handed Marcus a thick stack of case file. “Are you familiar with what you have to do?”
“Yeah, call victims, write the reports organize them then work them while following leads.” Said Marcus as drab as drab could be.
“We don’t leave here. So once you have the file ready and all contacts, phone numbers, addresses organized, prep the file, and then give it to our unit that follows up on that lead. We found by splitting up that work people specialized in their jobs and the burn out rate was considerably less. So it should be a cake job for you.” Larry took a phone call and Marcus walked out and sat at his desk.
This was the next phase in Marcus’s life, a boring, mundane, lifeless dribble, those bottles of Xanax where starting to look good again, maybe he would have them for dinner sometime, with a nice bottle of vodka. So this is how it went. No more letters, just files, and files and files. One day Marcus came home to see a package at his door step, and he didn’t order anything.
Not taking a chance Marcus stepped over the box into his apartment. Put on some gloves, and took the box inside very carefully. There were no wires or smudges to indicate a hidden machine. With a box cutter Marcus carefully cut the box tape on the top. Stopping then taking a Xanax he began again. The tape was cut, now he peeled two of the folds back then the other two. What he found inside was another letter and a DVD.
Marcus read the Note first. Which read:
Dear Marcus, so sorry that they wont let you hunt me. They just don’t know how close we are. So here is something to convince them to let you on the case.
Best regards,
John.
Marcus opened the DVD sleeve and sat the DVD on the soft cloth he prepared. He checked the sleeve for finger prints and fibers, nothing was found, then the DVD, still nothing. He then went over the box and checked the tap to see if anything got caught, nothing did.
Marcus fired up the DVD player, and pressed play.
On the DVD, was John, and John talked to Marcus.
“Hey Marcus, how are you? I’m doing well as you can see”. John panned the camera to a chubby woman he had tied to a post in some sort of garage. There were metal chains attached to her hands, which bound them and chains on her feet as well. She was nude, except for her panties were still on. She seamed to be bleeding from the head quiet a bit as it slid down her half naked body. She was screaming against the gag ball he put in her mouth. John was wearing a rain suit of all things, bright yellow. His hair had gotten long too as well as his beard. John turned the camera back to him.
“So it’s been quite a while, you know when I wrote that letter you were still on your way to being Capitan. How long did you have that letter before you let the now Capitan have it? One and a half years? Paid probation, you got off lucky. They could have crucified you, well I guess they did in a way, at least your sprit has been crushed. Remember when we talked most nights about how you have just killing yourself and your job is just too much sometimes. You would say nothing exciting ever happens. Well Marcus now it has and what will you do? How will you chase me? Head on? From side to side like a snake?
Well I’m nothing without you am I? You are the hunter, and so am I. So what happens when a hunter is hunted? I chose you because who better to take me down? Who better to take me in guns blazing, looking like a fcuking rock star?
You deserve it the most because you have worked hard. That letter was just messing with you, letting you know I’m still alive and well. Now this one is to re light that fire Marcus just like the Capitan said.”
John panned the camera back to the woman, and set it on a tripod. He came in front of the camera wearing a mask. One that looked hand made of possible steel, and it was a devils face. Medium length horns and a twisted face with a smile. The steel looked like a dark red. John produced a knife, and then stuck it into the stomach of the woman who screams again against the gag ball. He then took it out twisted it upside down and a hook was visible, he stuck the knife back in the hole, and ripped it down splitting the stomach of the woman open.
She began to convulse and black out. He then reached in and pulled the bloody, stringy, fat spaghetti looking material out of her. Then Marcus noticed him digging further down, and produced a fetus. John turned back to the camera and asked behind the mask,
“Does this make you angry Marcus? Capitan Swingser, Marcus is lead on this do you understand? If not I will kill more people. I have had my eye on a certain nun I have been confessing to, it would be a shame for her to end up outside of an abortion clinic.” John switched off the camera. The DVD was over.
Marcus sat stunned, now he knows that John has gone off the deep end, his lust for blood, went far beyond revenge this time. It was in another realm. Why did he take that woman’s fetus out? How could he do that? After what happened to him you would think he would never have done that. Marcus knew what it meant, it meant that he was going to hunt John, and that it’s not even John anymore.
Marcus removed the DVD, from the player put it back in the sleeve, put the DVD and note into two separate bags, and went back to the station. The Capitan was just getting ready to leave.
“Sir you are going to need to see this.” No I can’t I have dinner with the wife, you know that.
“Its John Robert, he just sent me something. I opened it but didn’t look at what it was.” Marcus lied because he didn’t want the Capitan to suspend him again. “There is a DVD and a note, I did read the note.”
The Capitan turned a shade of red Marcus has never seen. He picked up the phone in his office, “Janelle, yes its Robert, can I speak to Chris? Chis it Robert I need you to come in, now. I know you just got to the restaurant, but it’s about that cold case John Manwell, are you familiar? Good, be here in an hour call Martinez and Cromwell on your way, put Janelle back on. Janelle I’m so sorry to drag your husband away but its time to catch the bad guys, I know, he will get that vacation don’t you worry. Okay…Okay Bye” The Capitan loosened then took off his tie.
“Thank you for the evidence Marcus, you are dismissed.” He wiped his brow that was starting to sweat.
“That was addressed to me again; I want to know what’s on the DVD. My life might be in danger.” Marcus was now inside the Capitan’s office.
“Fine, but don’t think for one second you will be on that team.” Said the Capitan and pointing at Marcus.
Chris Gain, Jean Martinez and Lab technician Lana Comwell arrive within minuets of each other. On arrival Lana dons some gloves and starts to head for the lab with Martinez, The Capitan, Martinez, Gain and Marcus in tow. Lana puts the letter on the lab light and turns it one, the letter printed on computer paper is now see through. She takes a microscope and goes over every inch of it, nothing. Then the same with the DVD and the DVD sleeve. Didn’t find fiber, or prints. She searched the box with the scope and found oil. Standard engine oil. Sold everywhere.
By the time comwell was finished, it was close seven o’clock in the evening. That meant that Marcus stopped his night shift at three in the morning so in all Marcus did a twenty five hour shift. Marcus could feel his eyes closing, until he was asleep in the chair. Woken up by the Capitan, with a cup of coffee.
“You should go home we will let you know what’s on the tape, get some sleep Marcus.” The Capitan looked sincere, but he doubted it, it was probably because he was tired.
Marcus stood up stretched and took a good pull from the coffee. He got into his car and drove home in a haze. He didn’t even remember closing the car door, or his apartment door. He fell into bed when it was dark, and woke up in the darkness the next day to pounding on his door
edit on 5-7-2013 by Tylerdurden1 because: (no reason given)
edit on 5-7-2013 by Tylerdurden1 because: (no reason
given)
reply to post by Night Star
“I’m coming!” Marcus was annoyed; he didn’t know how long he had slept. It was still dark so he thought maybe only a few hours.
“Marcus! Is that you?!” It was the Capitan, and he sounded stressed.
“What in the hell is going on Robert?!” Marcuse said not too loud because of his head, as he opened the door.
“Yah he is fine check the back of the house and the alley way.” Capitan Swingser was on the radio attached to his shirt. “Marcus are you okay?”
“I’m fine, what’s up? Marcus now had a bit of an idea of what was happening.
“Let me in and I will tell you, we have a security detail down stairs as well, they will stick to you like glue.” The Capitan came in and sat down as Marcus turned on a light. “Have a seat Marcus.”
“So I am in danger?” Marcus sat on his love seat.
“Yes, I would say so.” The Capitan shifted in his seat. “On the tape was John, and a young lady, a pregnant young lady….” The Capitan explained what was on the tape and Marcuse pretended to be surprised the second time around. Once the Capitan was finished Marcus sat there in “stunned” silence.
“So you are lead on this Marcus, I don’t want anymore innocent people dead here, and the body of that lady was found, along with the fetus. It was posed in a way to incite anger. She was set in front of a church. She was crucified on a few two by fours, with other pictures of dead fetuses laid behind her. She was propped up right next to the door. As if to welcome people with open arms. There is an inscription in blood as well above the body: La morte non aspetta di vedere se le cose sono fatte o non fatte. Kulàrnava. We are in the process of getting that translated.
We have our forensics team going over the scene right now, the only thing we found was a few oil stains on the planks. Motor oil, with some sand or cat litter. It should hit the lab this afternoon. We need to open up Johns file again, and comb it extensively to see if there is anything we can use. I already have Garner, and Rosenberg going over that. You and I need to go to John’s house across the way there.”
“I’m coming!” Marcus was annoyed; he didn’t know how long he had slept. It was still dark so he thought maybe only a few hours.
“Marcus! Is that you?!” It was the Capitan, and he sounded stressed.
“What in the hell is going on Robert?!” Marcuse said not too loud because of his head, as he opened the door.
“Yah he is fine check the back of the house and the alley way.” Capitan Swingser was on the radio attached to his shirt. “Marcus are you okay?”
“I’m fine, what’s up? Marcus now had a bit of an idea of what was happening.
“Let me in and I will tell you, we have a security detail down stairs as well, they will stick to you like glue.” The Capitan came in and sat down as Marcus turned on a light. “Have a seat Marcus.”
“So I am in danger?” Marcus sat on his love seat.
“Yes, I would say so.” The Capitan shifted in his seat. “On the tape was John, and a young lady, a pregnant young lady….” The Capitan explained what was on the tape and Marcuse pretended to be surprised the second time around. Once the Capitan was finished Marcus sat there in “stunned” silence.
“So you are lead on this Marcus, I don’t want anymore innocent people dead here, and the body of that lady was found, along with the fetus. It was posed in a way to incite anger. She was set in front of a church. She was crucified on a few two by fours, with other pictures of dead fetuses laid behind her. She was propped up right next to the door. As if to welcome people with open arms. There is an inscription in blood as well above the body: La morte non aspetta di vedere se le cose sono fatte o non fatte. Kulàrnava. We are in the process of getting that translated.
We have our forensics team going over the scene right now, the only thing we found was a few oil stains on the planks. Motor oil, with some sand or cat litter. It should hit the lab this afternoon. We need to open up Johns file again, and comb it extensively to see if there is anything we can use. I already have Garner, and Rosenberg going over that. You and I need to go to John’s house across the way there.”
new topics
-
Supreme Court Oral Arguments 4.25.2024 - Are PRESIDENTS IMMUNE From Later Being Prosecuted.
Above Politics: 39 minutes ago -
Krystalnacht on today's most elite Universities?
Social Issues and Civil Unrest: 48 minutes ago -
Chris Christie Wishes Death Upon Trump and Ramaswamy
Politicians & People: 1 hours ago -
University of Texas Instantly Shuts Down Anti Israel Protests
Education and Media: 3 hours ago -
Any one suspicious of fever promotions events, major investor Goldman Sachs card only.
The Gray Area: 5 hours ago -
God's Righteousness is Greater than Our Wrath
Religion, Faith, And Theology: 10 hours ago
top topics
-
VP's Secret Service agent brawls with other agents at Andrews
Mainstream News: 14 hours ago, 11 flags -
Nearly 70% Of Americans Want Talks To End War In Ukraine
Political Issues: 15 hours ago, 5 flags -
Sunak spinning the sickness figures
Other Current Events: 15 hours ago, 5 flags -
Electrical tricks for saving money
Education and Media: 13 hours ago, 4 flags -
Late Night with the Devil - a really good unusual modern horror film.
Movies: 17 hours ago, 3 flags -
Krystalnacht on today's most elite Universities?
Social Issues and Civil Unrest: 48 minutes ago, 3 flags -
Supreme Court Oral Arguments 4.25.2024 - Are PRESIDENTS IMMUNE From Later Being Prosecuted.
Above Politics: 39 minutes ago, 3 flags -
Any one suspicious of fever promotions events, major investor Goldman Sachs card only.
The Gray Area: 5 hours ago, 2 flags -
University of Texas Instantly Shuts Down Anti Israel Protests
Education and Media: 3 hours ago, 2 flags -
Chris Christie Wishes Death Upon Trump and Ramaswamy
Politicians & People: 1 hours ago, 1 flags
active topics
-
University of Texas Instantly Shuts Down Anti Israel Protests
Education and Media • 63 • : marg6043 -
The Reality of the Laser
Military Projects • 48 • : 5thHead -
Nearly 70% Of Americans Want Talks To End War In Ukraine
Political Issues • 69 • : SchrodingersRat -
Supreme Court Oral Arguments 4.25.2024 - Are PRESIDENTS IMMUNE From Later Being Prosecuted.
Above Politics • 1 • : network dude -
Candidate TRUMP Now Has Crazy Judge JUAN MERCHAN After Him - The Stormy Daniels Hush-Money Case.
Political Conspiracies • 744 • : Threadbarer -
Truth Social goes public, be careful not to lose your money
Mainstream News • 129 • : matafuchs -
Krystalnacht on today's most elite Universities?
Social Issues and Civil Unrest • 2 • : marg6043 -
Remember These Attacks When President Trump 2.0 Retribution-Justice Commences.
2024 Elections • 56 • : WeMustCare -
British TV Presenter Refuses To Use Guest's Preferred Pronouns
Education and Media • 148 • : Consvoli -
VP's Secret Service agent brawls with other agents at Andrews
Mainstream News • 44 • : ByeByeAmericanPie