A little more in the crime drama I am slowly working on. Contained within is a sadistic fuck and some twisted things that he does, you have been warned.
Grace held out her hand long enough for Tony to pump it once, and then his phone buzzed, indicating he had an email. Absentmindedly, he grabbed it and peered at the tiny screen as Grace went on about what she had found. As soon as he read the headline, he interrupted Grace, who had barely gotten started.
“Grace, is there some place I can blow this up. I mean a screen, for everyone to see,” His mind was racing at what he was watching.
“Uh, yeah, in here.”
He followed her out of the corner of his eyes, trying not to take them off of the screen on his phone. Looking up briefly, he found himself in a conference room. Taylor followed both, and closed the door behind them.
“Use this,” Taylor directed Anthony to a terminal and then pressed a few buttons, bringing the terminal’s output up onto a large screen mounted on the wall.
Anthony finally pulled his eyes away from the screen of his phone and pulled up the departments email on the terminal. Clicking a few more buttons, he opened the email he had been pouring over on his phone.
To: Anthony Jackson
From: Jason Everett
Subject: TSF Video Just Received
This video was just delivered to us by US Post. The envelope was postmarked from the Standish, Maine post office. We dusted it for prints and found none, other than postal workers, on the envelope and none whatsoever on the tape. Attached is a digitized version of the video. Sit down before you watch it.
Tony clicked on the video to start it and the image of a large run down house came up. Pausing it, he asked Grace and Taylor if it looked familiar.
Grace answered, “That is where we found the bodies.”
“I figured.” He started the video again. The video bobbed along a gravel driveway up to where a white van stood. On its side was printed ‘Martin Brothers Painting.” Tony stopped the video a second time. “There’s your vehicle, Grace.”
“No, it was there when we found the bodies. It was listed as stolen and had been wiped clean. The only thing we found to connect it to the killing was hair from the girls.”
“I thought that was going to be too easy.”
A disembodied male voice, dripping tar, thick and raspy, began to accompany the video. “Agent Jackson, by now, you probably know that I have killed again. Hell, you probably are talking to the lovely officers that do such a fine job protecting this lovely town.” The voice stopped talking to chuckle, which turned into a hacking cough, the camera, most likely mounted in a hat, bouncing around violently. “I figured I would show you a little bit of the madness of my method.”
With that, the camera made its way to the front door of the house and opened it. From somewhere within, faint crying and shouts for ‘help’ could be heard.
Grace took this opportunity to sit down, leaving Tony and Taylor standing, staring at the screen as the camera began to walk up the spiral staircase to a stop outside of another closed door. The cries and shouts were louder now, and when the door opened, it revealed the three girls that were currently in various states of autopsy down in the lab.
The camera went to the first girl, a petit blonde who was still passed out. The cries have now turned to terrified screams of “No!” and “Get away from her!” a blue gloved hand reaches out and slaps the blonde across the face, causing her to moan and begin to stir. “Ah, so nice of you to join us.”
She responds to his voice by screaming and trying to flail her arms and legs, but the camera moves back far enough to show that she is tied down to the chair she occupies. The girls face comes into center focus and the red welt from the slap is already beginning to form. “Hi, what’s your name?” The disembodied voice says. The girl does not respond. “It’s ok Samantha, you can talk to me.” The voice laughs again, degenerating into another coughing fit, the camera shaking again. This time the blue-gloved hand comes into view, holding a lit cigarette, which it rubs into the side of the cheek of the blonde. She screams in pain.
“See how good it feels to talk,” the voice adds, chuckling and managing to control his coughing the third time. The camera turns away from the blonde and comes to rest on a tray of various blades, and other instruments, including what appears to be black thread and a number of sewing needles. The blue glove picks up one of the needles and begins to thread the black string through before turning back to the blonde. A second blue gloved hand reaches out and grabs the girl by her chin, steadying her head as he brings the needle slowly towards the right eye of Samantha.
The work is quick, but the screams of the other women in the house lingered in the office where Tony stood. On the tape Samantha appeared to have passed out shortly after the second pass of the needle. Now that both eyes were sewn shut, the blue glove again slapped Samantha across the face, causing her to stir. “Stick out your tongue,” said the voice. Samantha shook her head feebly and got slapped for her efforts. “Stick out your tongue,” the voice, angrier, demanded. Samantha did so, and the camera lost focus on her yet again.
Back at the tray, the blue glove picked up a scalpel and then, it, along with the camera, returned to where the young blonde sat, with her tongue still extended. “Samantha, you can call me Thomson, it’s not my real name, but you will not get to know me that well anyways.” He reached out, and with his left hand grabbed the outstretched tongue, the blue glove a stark contrast to the pink tongue. The right hand brought up the scalpel, which bit quickly into the tongue slicing a sliver off and causing Samantha to go into convulsions. The hand holding the sliver of tongue disappeared below the angle of the lens and a wet smacking sound could be heard for a moment before Samantha was still. A blue hand, now covered in blood from where it had cut the tongue, reached out and checked Samantha’s pulse.
“Ah, she was not much fun. Usually they last a lot longer. Like I said Agent Jackson, a little bit of the madness of my method. Hope to not see you soon.”
Taylor had made it through the entire video on his feet, but as the view faded out, he lurched to a trashcan and fell to his knees, emptying the contents of his stomach.
“Well Grace, Taylor, can I count you in?”
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