The Art of Murder: Interval 3: The Outline of Execution
Only I realize what's really going on. I know exactly what's going on. I was a fucking idiot to not tell the police immediately. I knew as soon as Justin wound up dead, I realized the recurring theme. Kirsty, she wouldn't have been able to guess.
My problem with getting a pretty girl who couldn't tell a guy was faking his innocence when she saw him. He was messed up from the beginning. I only fucked him up worse by doing this. And it's more than likely everyone is going to die, and I'm not going to be able to do shit about it until he's after me. I'll just pray the police can stop him.
Taylor took a breath. He was sitting in an interrogation room, in the precinct. He went there himself, of his own volition. He knew about Alchemy. He had no evidence, but he had the gut feeling. They had talked and talked for hours about Alchemy and what happened. Taylor admitted to being guiltless at the time, but now feeling remorse. He was assured that he and the girl were not responsible for Alchemy's action. It didn't matter. He was the final nail in the coffin. But now something might be done. The police had a lead now. They would watch Alchemy, waiting for the moment that he would slip up.
Detective Mendez got up from his seat. This kid was paranoid, worried, and not well. He felt that he was accountable. As far as he knew, there were only two other viable targets for the serial killer, the girl: Kirsty, and the guy named Monroe. They would need to isolate these two, take them into custody. It was possible that the killer was already on his way towards them. Before he left, he asked Taylor:
"Are you going to be alright?"
Taylor answered, "You need to find them, my friends. Before he gets them."
"We're in that process right now." Mendez got a call on his phone. "Excuse me, I need to take this."
Taylor seemed to shrug. Mendez walked out of the room and answered. "Hello?" he asked.
As he was expecting his answer, Dawson approached him, and, being polite, waited for him to finish the call. It was Detective Tesami Mizuku.
She told him, "Hey. We've got Kirsty at her house. Myron and Johnson couldn't find Monroe, and there's an APB out now."
"You need to find him. Has anyone tried calling?" Mendez asked.
"He hasn't answered. We've tried his friends and family calling, and no response. One might fear the-"
Mendez interrupted her, "It is inefficient to worry. We need to find him, and pray that he's alright."
"Alright. Over and out."
She was right. If he wasn't answering... he was in trouble. They needed to find him fast. That would be the focus for now, not seeking out Alchemy's residence.
Dawson approached him again, and told him that Wilkitz was at Catherine's scene.
"The crime scene, her body... is... it's... We can't move it without removing too much evidence. We've set up over there. Dr. Lang is down in the autopsy room with the bodies of Justin, his family, and Harris. He's discovered some new information that you need to hear. Let's head down."
Dawson and Mendez began their descent down the stairs towards the autopsy room. Mendez hadn't seen the cabin yet, he had only heard that several officers couldn't bear the scene. He was frightened. If this was all connected, the work of a single serial killer, he had baffled police for a month before foul play was suspected in the arson case. He left no traces with Harris, Stephanie, Gordon, or Catherine. And he was able to so brutally murder them, leaving behind the largest mess behind, any killer Mendez had ever hunted. The final thought that raced through Mendez's mind before viewing the bodies...was if Taylor was correct? This was a guy who hadn't finished high school yet and had been isolated in a mental hospital for two years... This teen was deemed sane. Cured. Accepted back into normal society. Either he was innocent and Taylor was paranoid... or they were dealing with a psychotic mastermind who fooled some of the nation's top psychiatrists. He, always an optimist, hoped for the former. He walked in to greet Lang.
"Detectives. I've got some interesting information," Lang said.
"What do you have?" asked Mendez.
"First, on every body we have found, was the Latin word "Caedes" carved into their forehead. It means murder. Every single murder so far has left no trace of his presence. He's used bleach at the scene, he's burned evidence, and he hasn't left any prints. He probably sliced his fingerprints off. He cleans up what he touched, and leaves their mess behind for us. He never leaves any trace. Not blood, not sweat. That's just in general."
"What about the arson victims?" Dawson asked.
"Well, obviously their bodies were fubar. No way to tell from looking. Upon further inspection though, Justin and the father were dead. Before the house burned. The mother suffered blunt trauma on the skull, but I imagine it only incapacitated her. She burned alive, but unconscious. Small markings left on the wrist implied she was restrained, but those were gone before she burned. Justin was restrained and brutally beaten. His head was grazed by a bullet, and he was strangled with rope that had disappeared. The father was restrained in bed, and shot. The murderer's mistake, was moving him into the living room to make it seem as though he was preparing a meal and watching television. The bullet was obvious. But again. No fingerprints, no DNA, blood, nothing left behind. No traces. Nothing."
"Throat slit. Pure & simple. But no traces yet again. Witnesses described a second man who walked out when Harris took a smoke break. This man was described as shady, but tall and lanky. Wore a trench coat and hat."
Dawson spoke up, "They're all connected. He's marking them. He's picking them off. We know who this is."
Mendez said, "We've got no evidence. That's the problem. He did an amazing job of covering his tracks."
Detective O'Bryan walked in. "That's not true. He left his house to go for a quote-on-quote Hike. he was gone well around the time that she was kidnapped, and his mother reported in that he was missing. Unless he's got a rock solid alibi, we can at least hold him."
Mendez got a call, when he checked, it was Mizuku. He answered:
"Do you have them?"
"Kirsty is in our custody. Monroe has not been seen, nobody has reported in."
"We're going to check out the cabin scene. Bring Kirsty back. Keep an eye on her and Taylor, but keep them separate."
Mendez turned to Dawson. "Dawson, we're heading to the cabin."
Alchemy had been watching his house for a good amount of time. He noticed two unmarked cars, probably police at his house. Several men were patrolling the area in incognito as walkers with their ipods in. He questioned in his mind killing them all, including his mother who was being questioned inside. No doubt they had suspicions now of him. He could clean up the scene before reinforcements arrived. But damn. This was his mother. His mother was one of the last people he had. He trusted, he loved. Besides Kate. But he might have to kill her too...
Fuck... What do I do???
He realized that leaving them alive could damage his cover. He realized that killing them would prove that he was the heartless bastard, the villain of the story rather than the hero of his story. But he was already a villain. It was still not enough to kill her.
He began to turn back when an officer called out, "That's him!"
He heard shouts and curses and saw them mobilizing towards him. He realized he needed to make his move fast. reaching for the suppressed revolver, he loaded the firearm. It was a decision now, to face five plus armed cops or make a break for it. He had never taken on well-equipped, armed, and trained foes. But then again, he had never taken on well-equipped, armed, and trained foes. he might wind up standing over their lifeless corpses, he might wind up a lifeless corpse below their stance. It wasn't worth the risk. He would run. He disappeared through several backyards, climbing over fences and into the forest. He was certain that they would call for back-up, and he would be the target of a manhunt. With several detectives pursuing and police on the way, he made quick inventory.
Suppressed revolver (Thirty-six .45 caliber rounds, suppressed with cheap plastic bottles that would become ineffective after multiple shots.), razor, mask, gloves, knife, and matches.
Earlier on, I discovered Monroe by chance. I had already figured he would be taken into protective custody as I had witnessed Kirsty before. But Monroe was absolute chance. He had pulled into a gas station to put gas in his car, and I bought a tank of gas. I followed him out in my sedan, barely tailing him. He pulled over to the side, and I didn't know what to do. I simply drove on, and pulled off in the dark up ahead. I grabbed the gas can out of my car and snuck up to his car with a garbage bag and matches. He was reading a map, and then calling a friend. He had explained he was driving as far as he could away.
"Look Taylor. I'm not going to the station. Do you realize how bad, how fucking bad that's going to be? Yeah! Okay! I know they're dead! Listen to me! I'm not going down. I got Catherine pregnant, dammit... Yeah, of course she got one. They're looking for me? I'm going as far as I possibly can. Fuck you all."
He then hung up. He got out of his car, and threw his cell phone at the road. He turned to take a look back at the city. And by then I had reached his car. When he reached for his door, I quickly slammed his face into the glass window. He grunted, and we got into a struggle. No words were said. He was focused. He knew who I was, what I was doing, what I planned. He swung his fist around at my face. I countered with an uppercut at his chin. His head fell back, and I quickly grabbed his shoulders, brought his body down, and slammed my knee. So much friction and energy as my knee slammed up while his body came down...I heard something break. And my knee started to hurt... A lot. He gasped for air, and fell down on the ground.
"Fuck you," he said at last, with a cough. "Fuck you, fuck you, you asshole. You're fucking insane, and I'm going to die. But then you're going to fucking die too. By the time your trial ends, you can be tried as an adult-" He paused to make out a couple 'hehs'- "and you'll get the fucking death penalty. Then I'll see you in hell. Motherfucker."
"You'll be there first," I said. "You deserve what's coming to you. I know what's coming to me, and I embrace it. Now embrace this." I pulled the garbage bag over his head. Then he got up. He surprised me, As far as I knew, his ribs were crushed. But I followed with yet another slam, this time into his head. Then I grabbed my gas can, quickly, and poured it over his body.
"Fuck, fuck, fuckin NO!" he yelled.
Too late. I grabbed the matches and lit one. I stood there for a split-second, contemplating action. His life was in my hands. Oh well. Good-fucking-bye, Monroe. I tossed the match onto his body, and listened intently to his whimpered shrieks. After watching him roll on the ground for a moment and finally give up, I grabbed his phone, then I walked back to my car and drove off. There was no point in cleaning the scene as they knew who it'd be anyway.
Taylor and Kirsty. They would be hard to get to in protective custody. But I imagined I could do it. I used his phone to call Kate.
She answered very quickly. "Monroe! They're looking all over for you! Where the hell are you?"
"This isn't Monroe, It's somebody else," I said.
"He's dead. Burned."
"They're looking for you now. They know who you are."
"Why are you doing this? You seemed fine. I thought you were okay, and you never really did get better. Turn yourself in. Stop doing this now. They were assholes, but you took their lives. Give up."
"Thanks for the offer, but I need to finish this. As for why... I really don't know."
"What the fuck?!?!?!"
"I don't know. I got out of the hospital and honestly felt the need to kill people. I wanted to kill them, because they put me there in the first place."
"What did they do to you?"
I hung up. That was a good question. What did they do to me? I had gotten into forgetting. But perhaps it was time to remember. Perhaps it was time to shift my focus on new targets. My doctors.
Conclusion of Interval 3
Detective Mendez pulled into the cabin. Police and FBI swarmed the place. Detective O'Bryan was waiting for him. Mendez and Dawson got out of the car and made their way over.
"What are we looking at?" Mendez asked.
"Bad shit, Anthony. Real fuckin' messed up," O'Bryan responded.
They made their way downstairs to wilkitz. There were trails and stains of blood everywhere. Wilkitz was in the basement. checking over a table.
"Wilkitz," Mendez said.
"Oh, thank god, Mendez!" Wilkitz responded with relief. "This is the worst thing I've seen in years."
Mendez looked around. Suspended from the walls on chains and hooks were severed, bloodied limbs, on a stand was her eviscerated torso, Intestines holding up buckets of her blood were hanging from the walls. In the center was a rusty chair covered in blood and urine stains, especially on the floor, along with remnants of restraints attached to the chair. On the table Wilkitz was investigating, was the girl's heart, with a knife stuck through it.
It was a scene out of a fucking horror movie. "Jacob's Ladder" all over again.
"Her organs and body parts were hidden around the house. You've seen what else was done...her fingers hidden around the basement, toes in buckets... her hands were pierced with heated nails, and she was also electrocuted in the chair. She lost most of her hair, as well as feeling in her body. She was inevitably going to die, but a mixture of adrenaline and chemicals kept her immobile and awake. She was then sliced open... and eviscerated. Her guts and organs removed by...hand. All while she was alive. At the end of it, her throat was slit, killing her quickly."
"That's fucking... That's..." Dawson couldn't speak. He walked upstairs.
Mendez looked at Wilkitz. He thought to himself, This needs to end. This needs to- a phone call interrupted him. Detective Carter explained that they had found Alchemy near his house, and he escaped. But that they were circling the forest right now to find him. He would not get past.
Mendez got yet another call, from the operator. According to her, a patrolman had found Monroe's burned body by the side of the road next to his car.
Wilkitz looked at Mendez for a moment. He knew better than to ask what happened. He also knew Mendez would be on the warpath.
Mendez immediately called the commissioner.
"Sir, I need an APB out. We're conducting a manhunt. I need a picture of this guy everywhere. I need people to know what he looks like, who he is, what he's done. We can't let him get away."
The Commissioner agreed, to the chagrin of the District Attorney who would later be upset with the lack of evidence.
But now they knew who they were looking for.
Written by Scorch933