The Murderer's Contentment
Jim has to sit through a disturbing interview,
What I have to tell you isn't some fairy tale that will make you laugh or spark lust in your fantasies. It is gory and details of it will make you want to stop reading because of it being so sad and horrific. What I have to say will stun you. If you do not wish to read, I understand, because not even I would.
Read if you dare.
"February 15th was just another cool winters' day. Since it was a Monday most children were at school but some were still too young to go to school. He was not allowed in parks or schools, or anywhere near them for that matter, but he had learned how to keep a low profile. The woods around the Sandy Park made an excellent hiding place for him to watch the kids as they played on the equipment. Some mothers were good mothers and always watched their children but it was usually the younger mothers that were foolish enough to leave their kids alone.
They may have been foolish but he loved them that way. When they would leave to go to the bathroom or to flirt with some attractive male on the basketball court, he would make his move. First he would be coy and slowly walk up to the child then he would be a little more outspoken and ask a random question to spark their interest.
It was strange, as I recall, he never went after any child with blonde hair and it usually was a male child. Anyway, that day, he had picked out a brunette boy who had green eyes. I remembered them because he had cut them out afterwards and had put them in some stew. He always ate his victims so that there would be no proof afterwards. As for the bones, he'd crush them up into tiny grains then dump them in the nearest creek or bury them.
That day he had picked that child, for whatever reason, and had persuaded him to help him find his lost puppy. He told the boy that he so loved the dog so very much but the dog had raced out of this car when he had opened the door. The boy took the bait like a fish would a worm, and wandered into the woods searching for the dog.
Needless to say, he never came back out.
This was one of the first of his victims. After time he grew... unsatisfied, I would say, and moved to plans of torture for his enjoyment. If I had to say, I would say he liked the sexual torture the best."
Jim held up his hand for a moment as he threw his pen against the one way mirror in irritation. "Let me get another pen before you continue, Mr. Jenkins."
White as a ghost, the man across the table chained in handcuffs nodded and stared down at the table though he could not see it. He had been a crucial witness in the case but sometimes Jim wondered just how precise his information was because of his disability. Though he had not been blind during the episodes, he had been partially and that aroused curiosity and suspicion. The man on death row would use that as an advantage when he was put on trial, Jim knew this.
Once he grabbed another pen he nodded for Mr. Jenkins to continue.
After clearing his throat, he carried on with the story Jim never wanted to hear. "Well, after his last victim, the three year old girl, something had stopped him, or should I say, scared him. He said when he cut open her..." he stuttered as tears began to fall. Jim knew this was a fragile subject and thought of how Mr. Jenkins had been there every time to see everything. Awkwardly, Jim patted the man's hand and waited for him to pull himself together. "He had cut open her neck and he made me look in her eyes. He asked me what I had seen. I lied and said I had seen what he had; I didn't want to get beaten again. He asked me what Satan looked like to me," he stopped, his breath raspy and his voice breaking.
Jim stood and nodded at the guard who was standing by the door, expression hard as nails but it was clear the story had bothered even him. Once outside, the air of the hallway seemed to wash over him as the feeling of freedom soothed his nerves. So many times had he listened to gruesome stories about profilers, rapists, and murderers, but this one, god this one, was too much. He pulled out his tri-fold wallet and stared at a picture of his little girl. Lilly was grown by now, but just thinking about a man touching the dimpled, chipmunk, curly brown haired, blue-eyed, girl, brought his blood to a boiling point. Even if it killed him, he would make sure this man would be found guilty. Not only for the sake of the children, but for the parents as well.
"Jim!" Teresa exclaimed, running down the hall holding a mucky brown folder in hand.
All he wanted was to go home and forget this hell, but, she was his boss. "What's up?" he asked, turning to face the middle aged woman who enjoyed bright red lipstick against yellow teeth.
Teresa thumbed through the papers in the folder then pulled out a thick stack of papers and handed it to him. "This needs filled out about the Greg case and turned in Thursday morning."
With a mental moan and a charming smile he took the stapled papers then replied, "Of course, boss."
She gave him a half of a nod then went down the opposite direction which she had come from, leaving him there. If he only knew he would not make it to turn in such an assignment.
Read if you dare.
"February 15th was just another cool winters' day. Since it was a Monday most children were at school but some were still too young to go to school. He was not allowed in parks or schools, or anywhere near them for that matter, but he had learned how to keep a low profile. The woods around the Sandy Park made an excellent hiding place for him to watch the kids as they played on the equipment. Some mothers were good mothers and always watched their children but it was usually the younger mothers that were foolish enough to leave their kids alone.
They may have been foolish but he loved them that way. When they would leave to go to the bathroom or to flirt with some attractive male on the basketball court, he would make his move. First he would be coy and slowly walk up to the child then he would be a little more outspoken and ask a random question to spark their interest.
It was strange, as I recall, he never went after any child with blonde hair and it usually was a male child. Anyway, that day, he had picked out a brunette boy who had green eyes. I remembered them because he had cut them out afterwards and had put them in some stew. He always ate his victims so that there would be no proof afterwards. As for the bones, he'd crush them up into tiny grains then dump them in the nearest creek or bury them.
That day he had picked that child, for whatever reason, and had persuaded him to help him find his lost puppy. He told the boy that he so loved the dog so very much but the dog had raced out of this car when he had opened the door. The boy took the bait like a fish would a worm, and wandered into the woods searching for the dog.
Needless to say, he never came back out.
This was one of the first of his victims. After time he grew... unsatisfied, I would say, and moved to plans of torture for his enjoyment. If I had to say, I would say he liked the sexual torture the best."
Jim held up his hand for a moment as he threw his pen against the one way mirror in irritation. "Let me get another pen before you continue, Mr. Jenkins."
White as a ghost, the man across the table chained in handcuffs nodded and stared down at the table though he could not see it. He had been a crucial witness in the case but sometimes Jim wondered just how precise his information was because of his disability. Though he had not been blind during the episodes, he had been partially and that aroused curiosity and suspicion. The man on death row would use that as an advantage when he was put on trial, Jim knew this.
Once he grabbed another pen he nodded for Mr. Jenkins to continue.
After clearing his throat, he carried on with the story Jim never wanted to hear. "Well, after his last victim, the three year old girl, something had stopped him, or should I say, scared him. He said when he cut open her..." he stuttered as tears began to fall. Jim knew this was a fragile subject and thought of how Mr. Jenkins had been there every time to see everything. Awkwardly, Jim patted the man's hand and waited for him to pull himself together. "He had cut open her neck and he made me look in her eyes. He asked me what I had seen. I lied and said I had seen what he had; I didn't want to get beaten again. He asked me what Satan looked like to me," he stopped, his breath raspy and his voice breaking.
Jim stood and nodded at the guard who was standing by the door, expression hard as nails but it was clear the story had bothered even him. Once outside, the air of the hallway seemed to wash over him as the feeling of freedom soothed his nerves. So many times had he listened to gruesome stories about profilers, rapists, and murderers, but this one, god this one, was too much. He pulled out his tri-fold wallet and stared at a picture of his little girl. Lilly was grown by now, but just thinking about a man touching the dimpled, chipmunk, curly brown haired, blue-eyed, girl, brought his blood to a boiling point. Even if it killed him, he would make sure this man would be found guilty. Not only for the sake of the children, but for the parents as well.
"Jim!" Teresa exclaimed, running down the hall holding a mucky brown folder in hand.
All he wanted was to go home and forget this hell, but, she was his boss. "What's up?" he asked, turning to face the middle aged woman who enjoyed bright red lipstick against yellow teeth.
Teresa thumbed through the papers in the folder then pulled out a thick stack of papers and handed it to him. "This needs filled out about the Greg case and turned in Thursday morning."
With a mental moan and a charming smile he took the stapled papers then replied, "Of course, boss."
She gave him a half of a nod then went down the opposite direction which she had come from, leaving him there. If he only knew he would not make it to turn in such an assignment.
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