Venator Read online

  This old house was full of all of those awful memories. Furman pushed them away. He clicked the remote and a big TV came to life casting a hazy blue light across the room. Frye lounged on the couch and sipped from his glass of iced tea. He pushed play and the screen showed two men jogging through the park. The camera jostled and shook as it tracked the men. Occasionally a branch or leaf would obstruct the view. The joggers were coming toward the camera when the screen cut to black.

  Then the camera was on again and sitting on the ground. In the frame was a dense forest and one of the joggers was bound to a tree. A dark figure wearing a long black cloak entered carrying the second jogger who was unconscious. The figure stripped the jogger naked and laid him down face first. The figure hiked up the cloak to its waist and was naked underneath. It mounted the unconscious jogger.

  The other jogger tied to the tree screamed silently into a mouthful of duck tape. Then suddenly, hearing something, the assailant looked past the bound man and leapt up. The dark figure produced a hand scythe and approached the bound man. The figure jerked its head up again, listening intently. It replaced the scythe, hoisted the naked man over its shoulder and retreated out of the frame. The screen cut to black again.

  Now the naked jogger was duck taped to a wooden chair. The camera jostled and then was still. After a moment, the jogger jerked in his chair as a dark figure appeared from behind.

  The light from the TV screen acted as a strobe on Furman Frye’s face as he bit his lip in pleasure.

  10

  Provo handed the SAC or special agent in charge, Robbie Tatum a fax.

  "Provo, I’m going to have you work with the folks from Chesterfield."

  "But sir, I’m..."

  "I know you’re the hot shot profiler from DC. I respect that and your abilities. I know you see this as a step down for you but rest assured, we are dealing with a serial killer."

  "I was under the impression..."

  "... that this was only a related kidnapping. Yes, I was too. Let me get everyone briefed and the locals sworn in. We’re really gonna need your help on this one, Provo. This killer is the real deal."

  Tatum’s voice boomed through the conference room, "Quiet folks! Let’s quiet down now. Forgive the late hour ladies and gentlemen but as you can see we a fairly short staffed and I want to get under way as soon as possible."

  Eric stifled a yawn while Emily sipped from her styrofoam a cup of coffee.

  "No rest for the weary," Emily whispered. "We’ve got a long night ahead of us."

  "Yeah, I know. Who’s bright idea was this again?"

  Emily smirked at him.

  Tatum unbuttoned his blazer, "We have three related kidnappings in Alexandria, Virginia. Richmond, Virginia and Charlotte, North Carolina. We believe that these are the work of one individual and that he is a serial killer. The first abduction took place Friday, two weeks ago at approximately 2:00 in the afternoon. A young couple, Steven Edwards and Heather Graham, were assaulted inside Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. Ms. Graham’s body was found slashed and dumped inside an empty mausoleum. Someone called Richmond City Police at 2:15 and left this message, ‘The angel of death has risen from ash, screaming bloody murder with throats to slash.’ Mr. Edwards is still missing. Trace of the phone call turned up a pay phone outside a 7-11 in downtown Richmond."

  "The second kidnapping came on the following Friday just south of Charlotte. Paul Reynolds and his son, Jeff were assaulted while they were walking the family dog through Revolution Park. Jeff was beaten with a baseball bat and left behind a grove of trees. He has been hospitalized from a severe concussion and is in a deep coma. Mr. Reynolds is also still missing. Again, a phone call was placed to Charlotte authorities, ‘Death is hard at work, he’s only just started, hunting for you and me, to join the dearly departed.’ Again the trace ran us back to a pay-phone."

  "The last abduction took place this morning inside Utah Park in Alexandria. Joel Brothers and Saul Salvatore were jogging at just after dawn when they were assaulted."

  Tatum pulled a small black remote control from his jacket, "Wheatley, hit the lights please!"

  Tatum keyed the remote and a large screen descended from the ceiling, "The following is a taped interview conducted by Alexandria detectives this morning."

  The big screen illuminated and the tired face of Saul Salvatore appeared.

  "All right, Mr. Salvatore. If you could tell us exactly what happened one more time for the camera," a detective said from off screen.

  "But I’ve already told you ten times! Why aren’t you looking for Joel!"

  "Please, Mr. Salvatore. We are actively looking for Mr. Thomas but we need you to tell us exactly what happened again. This will be for are friends at the FBI."

  "Friends? Yeah right!" an agent called from the back of the darkened room. A few quiet laughed greeted the comment.

  "Quiet," Tatum scolded.

  "Alright, alright. I just don’t know what I would do without Joel, if anything happens to him..."

  "Mr. Salvatore? Please?"

  Saul sighed with exasperation, "Joel and I were jogging this morning through Utah Park like always. We were talking about Christmas and going to visit my family. Joel isn’t very close with his parents anymore. So we planning on staying a few days with my folks. Well, I thought I heard Joel stumble behind me. So I called out over my shoulder, you know, to see if he was alright. When he didn’t answer me, I thought that maybe he was hurt. So I stopped and when I turned around he wasn’t anywhere on the trail. I was confused, I thought maybe he was playing a trick on me, maybe hiding in the woods to try to scare me. He’s always doing things like that. Well, I thought I heard him moving around in the bushes to my right, so I push through and these hands grab me. I mean they were incredibly strong, they shoved me down and all of the sudden this guy was on top of me."

  "You say, a guy was on top of you. Are you sure it was a man, did you see what he looked like?"

  "No, well not at first. But he was definitely a man, he was so strong. He whispered in my ear that if I didn’t cooperate, my boyfriend was dead."

  "What did the man do next?"

  "He told me to sit beside this tree and not to make a sound. So I did, I was so scared. Not for me, but for Saul. I mean this guy was crazy, you could hear it in his voice. So, he duck tapes me to the tree and I tried not to look at him. You know, they always tell you if you being robbed or something not to look at them because it makes them nervous and their more likely to shoot you or something. But I couldn’t help notice that, well, it seemed like he had on a cape, a big black cape."

  "What, like Superman?"

  A low chuckle rumbled through the conference room.

  "I know it sounds ridiculous, but the man had on this long black thing, like a robe or a cape."

  "Could you tell how big the guy was, maybe his weight and height?"

  "No, not really. He was just a big black shape but I’m pretty sure he was albino."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Well, he did have on a hood and I’m pretty sure I saw his chin. It was white."

  "What do you mean? White like me?"

  "No, not white-Caucasian-white, I mean like chalk white."

  "I see, so what happened next?"

  "He taped me up and then taped my mouth shut. He put this old VHS camcorder on the ground in front of me and disappeared. When he came back he... he dropped Joel on the ground in between me and the camera. Then he took of his clothes and..."

  "Joel’s clothes?"

  "Yeah."

  "Are you alright, Mr Salvatore? Do you need a minute?"

  "No, he uh, the guy, he started to have... he started to have sex with Joel."

  "Was Mr. Thomas conscious through this?"

  "I don’t think so..."

  "Mr. Salvatore?"

  "I'm sorry, he uh, the guy, he got distracted, like he heard someone coming."

  "Did you hear anything?"

  "No, I was, I was crying and I didn�
��t hear... you know. I didn’t hear anything."

  The detective slid Saul a box of tissues.

  "Thank you," he said, wiping his eyes. "The guy, he got off of Saul and came over to me. He was going to kill me."

  "How do you know?"

  "He, he pulled out this curved knife and then he must have heard someone coming again. He grabbed Saul and ran off."

  "Thank you again, Mr. Salvatore we’ll..."

  "Hit the lights!" Tatum shouted. "This time Alexandria police received a fax from a local Kinkos. ‘Death is a hunter and the hunter seeks death, only from the harvest can we find breath, you are my prey and I shall feast, I’ve killed em all may they rest in pieces."

  Eric’s face contorted.

  "You alright?" Emily asked.

  "Yeah, this guy just creeps me out is all."

  11

  The hunter howled with laughter. It was so cleverly hidden in the shadows that no one would ever detect its prescience. The hunter would be able to feed at its leisure once it acquired its new prey, so plump and so delicious.

  The hunter recalled its first kill. The family cat, who was quite the little bitch, had hissed and clawed its delicate hand. The hunter bled for the very first time, a curious feeling, pain and pleasure intermingling with each other. Then, the rage boiled over both and it buried the little monster alive. The hunter stood there for the longest time in the bright sunlight and listened as the cat’s pitiful cries slowly die out. Then the hunter dug it up and decapitated it. It dumped the body in a garbage can and took the head home.

  Because of this incident, the hunter learned that it had to occasionally relinquish control and fade into the shadows. The head had almost been found under the hunter’s bed by a nosey parent. Sure that it would be discovered, the hunter readied a sharpened pencil with which to stab the adult.

  "Clean this fucking room or I’ll take it away!" the parent yelled.

  "The head?" the hunter thought. No, the parent meant the room. Clean up the room or else the bedroom would be taken away. No that would be misery.

  The hunter hated it in the dark place but it was a necessity. A way to keep the peace and stay hidden away. And it had been oh so hard to keep itself in check. Sometimes the urge to just cut loose was almost too much to bear. The hunter wanted blood and lots of it. It was thirsty dammit and it refused to wait another moment!

  Patience, patience. So many voices wanting so many things. Right now, discretion would be advised, it would drink later. The waiting made it so much more pleasurable. To deny itself even the tiniest morsel made the main corse so much more enticing. The tingle of anticipation made it shudder uncontrollably. The hunter thought about the euphoric climax to come and nearly screamed with joy.

  Focus, focus, the voices concurred. Everyone agreed. But then again, they always agreed, in the end. The hunter was the perfect puppet master, reigning in its assortment of deranged beasts to serve its higher purpose. Conquest. Death. Resolution. The hunter snickered to itself and settled in for the evening.

  12

  A car horn blared outside. Emily Sanderson stumbled down the stairs in her apartment and nearly broke her neck. Her cell phone rang and she cursed. A fat orange cat rubbed up against her calf and she nearly fell again.

  "Alright Jasper, hang on a sec," Emily muttered as she threw open the front door.

  Jasper meowed a reply and Emily’s cell phone rang again.

  "Jesus Christ, Eric! The door’s fucking open!" she growled to herself. The phone stopped ringing but Jasper continued meowing.

  "I know Jas, its time to eat."

  Emily opened a can of tuna and dropped it on the floor, "Alright, buddy. Mom’s off to work."

  "Get the lead out of your drawers, Sanderson. We’re gonna be late!" Eric boomed from the front door.

  "We’ve got plenty of time, don’t get your panties in a bunch," she called to him from the kitchen.

  "Not so, there’s a wreck on 95. Overturned tractor trailer, everyone’s taking the Powhite. Its gonna be a mess!"

  "Great," she mumbled. "Want some coffee?"

  "I’m fine. Are you descent?"

  "Oh, get over it, Eric. You’ve seen me naked enough times for me not to give a damn."

  "So you are naked?"

  "As the day God made me. Stop gawking and hand me some fresh underwear out of the dryer."

  "I don’t know if I’m comfortable with this, Em."

  "Comfortable with what, Eric? Look, I don’t have time for that this morning. Can we save it for later?"

  "Yeah, fine" Eric said over his shoulder as he dug into the dryer. "We’ll have plenty of time while we sit in traffic."

  Emily groaned.

  "Catch," Eric said..

  "A thong?"

  "My favorites."

  "Fine, would you fix my coffee, please. Two equals..."

  "... two equals, half milk and in the Garfield tumbler, I know."

  Jasper regarded Eric with a look of distaste and dove back into his tuna.

  "Hey, big man. You haven’t been scratching your Mama’s arms up again have you?"

  Jasper squinted his eyes at Eric.

  "Well, how’s Mr. Jasper feeling this morning?"

  Jasper showed Eric his fangs and hissed.

  Eric jerked his hand away, "Grumpy, huh?"

  13

  I don’t understand what the big deal is here, Eric," Emily said between slurps of coffee.

  Eric cussed under his breath and gunned his unmarked cruiser through the thick traffic.

  Emily took another long sip, "Do we really have to go through this again? Look, if us being physical is going to screw up our working relationship than maybe we should just stop."

  Eric glanced at her with a pained expression, "That’s not it and you know it, Em."

  "Then why don’t you tell me what it is, Eric. I’m sick of playing these fucking head games with you."

  "Emily, you know how much I care about you. I love you."

  "I know... I love you too, but we both know that things will just never work out between us."

  "That’s what you think. But it’s not what I feel. Jesus, Em. We’re meant for each other. I’ve never been so happy with anyone in my whole life."

  "Eric, when we were together you were miserable. And I was miserable. We need more than just a great sex life to make things work."

  "I know we had some problems but I think we can fix it. I want to try. You mean too much to me to just give up on this."

  "You’ll never be happy with me, Eric. We’re fundamentally different. Just look at our jobs for God’s sake. You’re a street detective, you think outside of the box. You’re creative, hell, I think you’re brilliant. You have so much talent. You’re an incredible artist and singer. Eric, you could give up law enforcement and start up your own jazz band. You’d make a killing. I don’t understand why you haven’t left already. If I were you, I’d have moved to New York or Chicago..."

  "Yeah, well you're not me, Em. You want to know why I’m still here? It’s because of you. If I left tomorrow to try to make it as a serious musician, I’d be miserable. Because I’d always wonder about you, about us and if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving you."

  Eric squeezed her thigh, "Can’t you see how much I love you. I’d do anything for you."

  "I know," Emily replied quietly. "I’m just not ready for all of this. I’m damaged goods. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be completely healed. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to show you who I really am. I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust anyone completely."

  "What have I ever done to make you not trust me?"

  "Nothing."

  "Have I ever lied to you?"

  "No."

  "Have I ever cheated on you?"

  "No."

  "I just don’t understand why you won’t give us a chance to be happy!"

  "You don’t have to understand!" Emily exploded. "It’s my choice, so just respect that!"

 
; Eric stared out of the front windshield, fuming. Emily let her gaze follow the passing cars.

  "I’m sorry I raised my voice," Eric quietly said.

  "You know I hate that," Emily whispered. "Your temper, its scares me, Eric. And you wonder why we’ll never work."

  "Emily, I can change. I’ll work on that and anything else you want me to if it will make you happier."

  "That’s just it, Eric. You shouldn’t have to change. There’s nothing wrong with you. Everything is wrong with me."

  Eric reached for her hand.

  "Don’t," she warned.

  "Em..."

  "Please, just don’t, okay?"

  The cruiser stopped at a light and Eric looked at Emily. She wiped a tear from her cheek. "What?" she asked.

  He unbuckled his seat belt and wrapped his arms around her.

  "Eric, stop it," she whispered, sniffling against his chest.

  He kissed her forehead and looked into her eyes.

  "Please don’t," she said.

  He leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

  She shoved him away.

  "Goddam it, Eric! Don’t touch me!"

  "Fuck, Emily!"

  A car horn blared from behind them. The light was green. Eric slammed his foot down on the accelerator and the cruiser peeled off down the highway.

  14

  You guys from Chesterfield?" Provo asked at a crowded conference table. Phones were ringing off the hook and the room was packed with various law enforcement officials.

  "My name’s DeJesus and this is Emily Sanderson," Eric said. "It’s a pleasure to meet you Agent Provo. I’ve followed your career with the feds and..."

  "Bully for you. Look, we’ll be working together on this and I’ve already distributed my working profile on the I-95 killer to the other teams, so let me fill you in on who I think we’re looking for."