The Crucifix Killer Part 25

'Right over there.' Duane pointed to a bread dispenser on the kitchen worktop.

Martin wasted no time in retrieving a couple of bread slices. Using a knife he found in the sink he smothered the bread with enormous amounts of peanut b.u.t.ter and jelly.

'd.a.m.n, man, easy on the jelly,' Duane giggled. 'What are you on, hash?'

'I have no idea. I took a couple of pills that were on a table upstairs,' Martin said in-between huge bites. A blob of jelly ran down the left side of his mouth.

'Tripping?'

'h.e.l.l yeah. How about you?'

'No, man, I'm on dust. Haven't slept since we got here, I'm still buzzing like h.e.l.l, man.'

'When did we get here?' Martin asked, looking confused.

's.h.i.+t, dude, you are are tripping. On Friday night,' Duane responded with a laugh. tripping. On Friday night,' Duane responded with a laugh.

'And what day is it?'

Duane's laughter grew louder. 'Early hours of Sunday morning.'

'd.a.m.n, you've been awake for two nights and a day.'

'h.e.l.l yeah.' Duane looked proud.

Martin shook his head in disapproval, grabbed a handful of marshmallows and walked back to the bread dispenser. 'Would you like a peanut b.u.t.ter and jelly sandwich?' he offered.

'No man, I've got no appet.i.te, but knock yourself out.'

Martin made himself another sandwich, this time with even more jelly.

'Hey, Mart, remember I said I had a surprise for you?'

Martin looked at his friend curiously. 'No, I actually don't remember that at all.'

'Well I did. Would you like to see it now?' Duane sounded excited and Martin couldn't tell if it were the drugs talking or his friend was really happy to be able to show him some sort of surprise.

'Sure, what is it?' he said casually.

'It's a DVD. I'll go get it while you finish that jar of jelly,' Duane said, pointing to the almost empty jar on the worktop.

'A DVD?' Martin questioned unimpressed.

'Trust me, you'll like this one.' He dashed out of the kitchen leaving Martin to finish his sandwich. A few moments later Duane stormed back in holding a slim DVD case. 'Here it is.'

Martin checked the case. There was no front or back cover. The disk inside it had no printing on it either.

'Where can we watch it?' Duane asked, sounding even more animated.

'I seem to remember a room with a huge flat-screen TV and surround sound system upstairs.' He drank the last of his soda down in huge gulps. 'But what the h.e.l.l is this DVD all about, Duane?'

'This is gonna be cool, man. I know you're into bondage, right?' He sounded like a character out of Wayne's World Wayne's World.

To his closest friends it was no secret that Martin enjoyed bondage and rough s.e.x.

'This is a bondage DVD?' A tingle of interest in his voice now.

'This, my friend, will probably freak you out. This is supposed to be some extreme bondage s.h.i.+t.'

Martin stared at a hyper Duane. 'I'm game, the rougher the better.' He stuffed the last of the marshmallows into his mouth.

'So where's this room with the flat screen?'

'Upstairs somewhere. We'll find it, don't worry. Let me just grab a donut.'

Martin went back to the fridge and grabbed a box with three chocolate donuts and another can of soda. They both left the kitchen.

It didn't take them long to find the entertainment room with several s.p.a.cious and very comfortable-looking leather chairs facing the biggest flat-screen TV they'd ever seen. The surround sound system together with the DVD equipment was state of the art.

'Now this is cool,' Duane said, jumping onto one of the leather chairs like a little kid in a bouncing castle. 'And that's sweet.' His eyes had rested on the impressive TV set.

'Give me that DVD, and stop acting like a stupid kid,' Martin ordered. Duane handed the disk over and made himself comfortable.

The first thing Martin noticed was the amateurish quality of the images; this was definitely not a professionally made film. The opening scene showed a young woman, no older than twenty-five, already tied to a metal chair. Her long blond hair disheveled as if she'd just woken up. Her white blouse looked dirty and drenched in sweat. Her denim skirt had been ripped to expose well-toned and tanned legs. She'd been blindfolded and gagged and her running mascara was a clear indication she'd been crying. Her lipstick had been smudged off her lips and she seemed scared and exhausted. The room she was in was about thirty feet by twenty-two with holes in the walls as if someone had used a sledgehammer on it. Besides the chair she'd been tied to, the only other piece of furniture in the room was a small metallic table.

There were two other people in the room, both male, but the camera never focused on them. In fact, they were only seen from the torso down. Martin was instantly intrigued and his grogginess started to subside.

'This is different,' he commented. 'Forget about having a plot, they just go straight into the action here, don't they?'

'I knew you'd like it, man.'

One of the two males approached the scared-looking woman with an erection bulging in his black trousers. He tried running his fingers through her hair, but when she felt his touch her head jerked back violently, her frightened scream m.u.f.fled by the gag in her mouth. Her reaction angered him. His blow landed on her left cheek, the impact so powerful it lifted her off the chair.

'Don't fight it, b.i.t.c.h,' he said in a menacing voice.

The man turned and faced the other person in the room who handed him a switchblade. He slowly ran it over the girl's right cheek. As she felt the cold metal against her skin she gave a petrified cry, tears running down her face through the blindfold. He turned the blade towards her blouse. In a quick movement he tore it off her body. A small speck of blood formed in between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s where the tip of the blade had sc.r.a.ped her skin. She emitted a frightened moan and was instantly slapped across the face once again.

'Shut up, wh.o.r.e!' he commanded.

The second male approached the terrified woman and forced her legs apart before slas.h.i.+ng through her miniskirt revealing a pair of see-through red panties. They seemed moist and that aroused Martin who s.h.i.+fted his position on his seat in an attempt to get more comfortable.

The film proceeded with both males touching her, rubbing their visible erections against her body and getting more and more abusive. The violence at times seeming to get out of hand. Martin, nevertheless, was enjoying every second of it, until the last scene.

One of the two males had positioned himself behind the young woman, who by then had been freed from the chair, stripped naked and raped by both men several times. Her blindfold was suddenly torn from her face forcing her into a blinking frenzy as her eyes struggled to get used to the light. As they did, they focused on the second man standing directly in front of her. First a look of recognition, then terror took over. Her horrified expression was reproduced in Martin's face.

'Jesus Christ!' he breathed, quickly jumping to his feet. His body now s.h.i.+vering with fear.

With no warning her head was pulled back exposing her neck. The gleaming knife came out of nowhere. Her eyes saddened as she realized what was about to happen, there was no point in fighting anymore.

'You've gotta be s.h.i.+tting me!' Martin's eyes widened in horror. His excitement evaporating into repulsion.

The knife slash was clean and swift, ripping her neck open from left to right. Her dark and warm blood first gushed out and then streamed down onto her body. Martin and Duane had never seen so much blood. The man behind held her head back while the camera zoomed in on her dying eyes. Laughs were the only sound track.

'Holy s.h.i.+t . . . What the h.e.l.l?' Martin yelled hysterically.

Duane had now jumped to his feet as well. His horrified eyes were glued to the screen.

'It's a snuff movie? You got me a f.u.c.king snuff movie?' Martin turned to face Duane.

'I didn't know,' he replied, taking a step back. 'They told me it was extreme BDSM, man,' he said, feeling faint, his voice unsteady.

'Extreme?' Martin shouted. 'She's dead, Duane. Murdered right in front of our eyes. Yeah I'd say that qualifies as f.u.c.king extreme.' Martin brought his s.h.i.+vering hands up to his face rubbing it as if trying to wipe away what he'd just seen. 'Who are they?'

'What?' Duane looked confused.

'You just said they they told you it was extreme BDSM, who the h.e.l.l are told you it was extreme BDSM, who the h.e.l.l are they they? Who did you get this from?'

'Just some contacts I have. You know the kind of people you can score drugs or girls from.'

'Not my kind of people,' Martin shouted nervously and walked over to the DVD player and retrieved the disk. His hands still shaking.

'Why are you so f.u.c.king messed up about it anyway, man, it's got nothing to do with us. Let's just get rid of the disk and forget about it.'

'I can't, Duane.'

'Why not?'

'Because I know who she is.'

Thirty-Seven.

'What? What do you mean you've seen it before? Where? When?' Hunter's voice rose a few decibels above normal.

'I'm not sure, maybe three, four months ago,' Isabella said casually. 'Aren't you gonna eat your breakfast?'

Hunter's appet.i.te had vanished. 'Forget the breakfast. I need to know where you've seen this symbol before. I need to know when and I need to know now.' He held her by the arms.

Isabella stared at him with fear in her eyes. 'Robert, you're scaring me. What the h.e.l.l's going on?' She s.h.i.+fted her body trying to free herself from his grip.

Hunter let go of her realizing how crazy his actions looked. 'I'm sorry,' he said, lifting his hands.

She stepped away from him as if moving away from a stranger. 'What's this all about? What the h.e.l.l's gotten into you?' she asked scared.

Hunter paused and ran his fingers through his hair, taking his time to calm down. Isabella stood waiting for a reasonable explanation.

'Please have a seat and I'll explain it to you.'

'I'm fine standing, thanks.'

Hunter took a deep breath. 'I lied about the symbol meaning nothing at all.'

'Yeah, I guessed that.'

Hunter proceeded to tell Isabella about the significance of the double-crucifix, being very careful to reveal only what he deemed necessary. He told her about the two latest killings, but none of the previous murders were mentioned. The symbol, according to Hunter, had been drawn into a piece of paper found at the scene of both crimes. There was no mention of it being carved into the victim's flesh.

Isabella stood quiet and motionless for a minute, her eyes fixed on Hunter. When she spoke, her voice was unsteady.

'So you're talking about a serial killer? I could've been face to face with a serial killer?'

'Not necessarily,' he tried to calm her down. 'The textbook definition of a serial killer is "someone that kills three or more people in three or more separate events." We've only had two murders so far,' he lied again.

'That doesn't make him less of a psychopath.'

Hunter agreed but said nothing. 'Isabella, I need you to tell me about that symbol. Where did you see it?' He gently held her shaking hands.

'I'm not sure. I'm too nervous to remember now.'

'Please try.'

She let go of his hands and ma.s.saged her closed eyelids for a moment. 'About two or three months ago,' she finally said. 'I was having a drink with a friend of mine in some bar.' She reopened her eyes.

'Can you remember which bar?' Hunter asked.

A shake of the head.

'It's OK. We can come back to it later. What happened next?'

'We were sitting at the bar and my friend had to go to the ladies' room.'

'So you were by yourself?'

'For a minute or two, yes.'

'Carry on.'

'This guy approached me and asked me if he could buy me a drink.'

'What did he look like, can you remember?'

She looked at the floor for a few seconds. 'He was very tall, maybe six two, six three. Shaved head, looked quite strong and fit and his eyes . . .' She paused for an instant.

'What about his eyes?'