I'm not releasing this anywhere but here, so thank you for your emails, your comments and your awesomeness! It is appreciated.
I hope you enjoy the prologue to my newest release. It will be out this Friday, November 1st!
~Prologue~
Las Vegas
Christmas week
It isn’t easy being a killer.
You would think that taking a life and plotting an entire crime
from start to finish would be the simplest thing to do. How hard could it
possibly be to pick a victim and then steal the life from their bodies?
Well, that part wasn’t difficult, but the rest was a
strategic masterpiece in the making.
Any good homicidal maniac knows that you have to be damn
good at your job, or the police and Feds will be all over you. First, you have
to watch your prey and follow them around for a few days to make sure they were
the right ones for you.
You wouldn’t buy a pair of shoes without first trying them
on, would you?
NO!
So, the same was true with picking a woman to claim in your
little murderous game of cat and mouse. They had to be perfect for what you had
planned, and not just any woman would do.
After finding the lucky lady, you have to go deep into
planning mode. There’s the whole ‘electric chair’ outcome that you have to
worry about. In this game, there can be no errors. No one wants to lose their
life strapped into that device. Getting kicked out of the game means death, so
you have to be very careful when it comes to evidence.
Basically, there could be none.
Nada.
Zilch.
Gloves were needed to keep their bodies pure. Lest you
planned on spending your dying days in a bright orange jumpsuit in Federal lock
up. If you have any intent on having your way with them first, then you will
need even more protection. It may be a hindrance, but it will keep your little
guys from finding their way back to you in the long run. You don’t want the
police putting your sample on file for future reference. That could come back
to bite you in the end if you ever were to become a prolific killer.
Now, if you physically have contact with the women’s bodies,
then you need to have a sure fire way to remove any possible trace evidence and
fibers.
A common shop vacuum seems to work wonders in a pinch. Well,
it did for him anyway. It was well worth the investment to suck away all the
stray hairs that were inadvertently left behind.
Then you need a place to leave the bodies. If you’re playing
a game and vying for the attention of the world to see, then you want the
location to be in the open and easily accessible. It can’t be too hard for the
cops to find, since they aren’t the brightest individuals on the face of the
earth. It needs to be a place that you can just happen across when the crime
scene is discovered, just so you can gawk in horror, like everyone else.
Who didn't like to watch the way it all unfolded, and stare
in pride at their fine masterpiece? Watching was the best part. It was for him
anyway. Some killers enjoyed the taking of the victim, the raping or the
killing. Not him. He loved the observation. It was like watching your opponent
in action and unobserved. It was being able to play a game and not have anyone
see you taking notes.
So, it was important to make it count. He personally liked
picking locations that made no sense, even to him. It would keep everyone
guessing and far from discovering the truth of who was committing the crimes.
Lastly, there was one more important part to the sport. You
needed to have the perfect opponent. Regular detectives wouldn’t do- not in his
case. Why waste time with some local idiots, when you could ask for the king of
all cops?
The FBI.
It was funny. If you just left a note, then you could get
them to come to the party. If you promised more dead women, then you could have
them at your beck and call. When they believed they were working against
someone so twisted and crazy, they’d pull out all the stops to just end your
game.
Too bad that wasn’t going to happen.
Ever!
There was a new mastermind in town, and this time it wasn’t
the almighty Feds.
For him, there was no love lost for this time of the year.
It was a time of fake happiness, family tomfoolery, and faux bliss. But this
season, he was giving himself the best Christmas present ever. He was taking
the gift of life. Not just one, but as many as he could until Christmas came to
an end. When the holiday was finished, he’d wrap it up and wait until next year
to pick up again. Maybe it would be here in Vegas, maybe it wouldn’t. That
would depend on the FBI and how good they were at their jobs.
Only time would tell.
Some might call him sick, perverse, and twisted, but he knew
the absolute truth. He was the only sane one in a world full of lunatics. Why
run around trying to buy presents that would be forgotten shortly after the
holiday? Why run up credit card bills on ugly sweaters and decorations for your
home, when you could give yourself the gift that kept on giving?
It was the memory of being full of power and in control.
It was the best gift that could ever be placed under your
tree. You could lay in bed, night after night, dreaming about how it unfolded
and relive the emotions that you felt as it happened. It was as close to
absolute happiness as one could get.
Murder was the best present ever and highly underrated!
The rustling sound from the next room drew his attention
back to his evening’s plans. It was time to take care of the ‘situation’. At
just the thought, he was filled with such peace. Now, this was what the spirit
of Christmas was all about!
Entering the darkened workspace, he stood admiring his two
captive prizes. One, he’d taken a day ago, and the other just that night.
They were very different from each other and completely
random. That was how it needed to be. It would make the FBI go crazy as they
tried to ferret out the rhyme or reason behind them. One was a young teacher,
and the other was some pricy call girl, hired to make men’s dreams come true.
If you thought about it, they were actually more similar
than different. They both helped people.
One assisted children in learning.
The other taught men that buying sex was acceptable.
There was no doubt that right about now, the one woman was
probably rethinking her life and choices. Offering herself up to him was
probably her one biggest regret.
Oh well, live and learn. Then he realized how funny that
truly was, since her learning and living were about to come to an end.
Moving towards the innocent one, he stroked her hair as he
stared down into her terrified eyes. “I’m sorry you have to die this way, but I
needed a ‘nice’ and you were the best I could find.”
The woman made some noise from behind the gag in her mouth,
following it up with tears sliding down her cheeks.
He kissed her on the forehead. “You’ll go fast and won’t
suffer,” he promised. “Unlike my little ‘naughty’ here. She’s going to feel
pain and suffering as she finds her way out of this world.”
The other woman whimpered and shook at his words. She began to
struggle against the chains wrapped precariously around her throat.
“Well ladies, shall we begin?”
They both fought to get free from their bindings, but
neither had a chance. Life was marked in minutes now for them both, not days or
years.
Today they were destined die.
Life was on its way out.
Putting his hands around the ‘nice’ one’s neck, he slowly
cut off all the oxygen. Her eyes went wide as he crooned to her and whispered
reassuring words that it would all be okay. “Just go to sleep precious one.
It’s time for peace.”
Slowly, she obeyed like he knew she would. ‘Nice’ always did
what she was told and followed the given commands. Soon, her eyes rolled back
into her head and the up and down motion of her chest came to a stop. Now, she
was meeting her maker and free from the bindings of this life.
And just like that, she was gone.
He turned his focus to the woman fighting hard to slide
across the floor and away from him. She’d been forced to watch the woman’s life
being snuffed out. By the look on her face, he could tell she was terrified, knowing
what was coming.
“My gift to her was a serene ending, but you won’t be so
lucky. ‘Naughty’ leaves the world kicking and screaming as she begs for mercy,
because there has to be balance in everything we do.”
He began stripping from his clothes, not to ruin them or
leave any evidence on the victim.
She began crying and that only excited him more.
“It’s time to give me the best Christmas present of the
year. I do believe that I’ve earned it,” he stated, putting on protection and
following through with his plan.
The woman’s eyes were huge, as tears poured down her cheeks.
In that moment, she began praying silently and asking for forgiveness for
whatever it was she had done. It was obvious that she was going to die, but now
she begged for a quick passage much like the other woman had been offered. In
her time of death, she too wanted to be ‘nice’.
He leaned over and grabbed her by the hair to drag her back
to the mattress from which she had escaped. Her body scraped across the floor
and landed with a thud at his feet. The chains around her neck tightened to the
point that she began to panic.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he admitted, grinning. “How could
I not?”
His laughter filled the room, as one woman lay dead and the
other began the torturous journey to death.
Her prayer wouldn’t be answered.
She wouldn’t go easy or fast.
The killer made sure of it.
Pressing her securely to the mattress beneath him, he whispered
in her ear. “Let’s begin the celebration,” and then he did just that.
Much to her horror, by the end she begged for death.
Three hours later
He stared down at his masterpieces. The last few hours had
been brutal for the ‘naughty’ one. He’d taken her a few times and enjoyed the
fight and the broken submission. As he buried himself in her body, his mind was
already wandering towards locating the next pair of women.
It wouldn’t be long now.
There would need to be quite a few more. There were only so
many days remaining until Christmas, and he didn't want to miss a second of the
holiday revelry.
He lined the trunk of his car with plastic, to keep their
bodies pristine and the blood from ruining the carpeting in his car. That
wouldn’t help him in the long run if he left a trail. He packed them in
carefully, placing ‘nice’ on the top, since she was the innocent in all this.
He wanted to treat her body gently, since she’d earned it. The only harm he’d
done was the word carved into her ivory skin.
At first, he debated doing it but then again, she was
already dead, so what was the harm in that?
Closing the hatch, he grabbed the two bows and two notes he
had for the FBI. Once there, he’d place them around their necks and start the
next part of the game.
Before long, they’d find them. Then he could sit back and
revel in his glory that with four dead women, they were no closer to figuring
it out.
Ah, those poor Feds. This time, they would realize that they
had met their match. He was going to outsmart, outplay, and outthink them until
they gave up in frustration. There was no way they’d find him and end his
little holiday adventure.
Now, it was time to dump them and find the next pair of
early Christmas presents. His ‘naughty and nice’ list was getting longer and
longer.
Okay, who was he kidding?
It was also his very own wish list. They’d caught his eye
and now he had to have them.
How he wished there was more time before the holiday. He’d
been a very good boy this year and deserved even more presents.
Then again, who could stop him from just taking whatever he
wanted.
The answer?
No one…
Twenty miles outside Vegas
Wednesday Night
Inside the trunk of the vehicle, she was struggling to get
free from the bindings around her wrists. As she slid around, she could hear
the Christmas music playing in the car, entertaining the person who had taken
her. They were obviously enjoying the whole kidnapping thing.
Well, she wasn’t and it was time to end his fun.
When she came to, her head was covered with a hood and her
mouth had been taped shut. They were the first to go in her attempt to break
free. If she had to fight to survive, she needed to be able to call for help or
better yet, bite her captor. If he was going to kill her, then she would take
some DNA with her for the police to find. In fact, she’d take a finger or chunk
of flesh if need be.
She didn't know how long she’d been out. The lump on the
back of her skull throbbed, but whatever he’d placed over her nose was making
her head swim sickly to the point she wanted to vomit. Trying to think back,
her mind rebelled and wasn’t having it. It looked like she needed to focus on
the here and now until she was free.
She didn't know what was happening, but she was well aware
that the next few moments would mean life or death. It all came down to what occurred
when the car came to a stop.
Freeing her hands, she reached down to get her ankles
unrestrained, and then scanned the dark confines of the car trunk for anything
to use as a weapon. The tail lights were visible inside, illuminating the space
with enough light for her to see outlines of items.
There was nothing to use, but she did find one thing that
might save her.
This was a newer model car, and inside was a safety release latch.
There was a way out!
When he bound her, he should have made it harder to escape.
Now, she could pop the trunk and make a break for it when he slowed down.
He hit a bump and it jostled her, causing her to land hard
on her side. That was going to hurt in the morning, if she lived to tell about
it. Already, her body sung in aches and pains, but the adrenaline forced her mind
to push past it. Later, she was pretty sure she would be feeling like a truck
ran her over.
For all she knew, one actually did. Everything that happened
was a little bit hazy.
Right now, she had two priorities, and she kept focusing on
them in her drug fogged brain. Now, she needed to survive and get home. Everything
in her told her to stay fixated on getting back to his side. There would be
safety if she was only strong enough to overcome what was coming.
Nat King Cole played over the radio, irritating the shit out
of her, as she finally freed her ankles. Reaching up, she waited until the car
slowed down to pull the release. When it finally did, she held the trunk lid
with sore fingers and peered out into the night.
All she could see were trees.
There were lots of them too.
Someone wasn’t in downtown Vegas anymore.
Well hell!
Gone were the neon signs and the palms and back were the
real deal. Okay, so this wasn’t going to be as easy as she hoped. In fact, the
insurmountable odds began weighing on her mind, as she scanned the situation
further.
Yeah, this wasn’t looking good at all.
She was screwed.
Then she could feel the change in motion, as the vehicle slowed
down. It must be coming to a crossroad or stop sign. It was now or never, and
in her mind she prayed to a higher power that she’d be strong enough to pull it
off. The car rolled to a stop, and in that moment she took the chance that
either screamed life or death.
He’d catch her, or she’d be fast enough in her state to stay
one step ahead of him.
Pushing up the trunk lid only far enough to squeeze out, she
felt the car begin to move again, as she fell from the inside. When she hit the
asphalt, her body sang in pure pain, but she didn't care. She was way too busy
praying that the music would cover any sounds and offer distraction.
Then she did what her instinct told her to do.
She ran for her life.
It was important that she stay focused on the path ahead and
never look back. If she did, there was the fear that the person who abducted
her would be right behind her.
It scared her to know she might be recaptured again.
That he’d take her once more.
If he succeeded, could she get free a second time?
Racing further into the trees, she wished for some
protection as the cold air assaulted her body and lungs. He’d taken her clothes
and boots, leaving her only with a lacy bra and panties. Obviously, he’d wanted to make it as hard for
her as possible to get away from him.
Well, mission accomplished there.
Being half-naked wasn’t exactly how she wanted to be found,
but at this point it didn’t matter. Getting away and to safety meant everything
at this point.
She had to call him!
He would find her!
It wouldn’t matter where on the planet the abductor took her.
He would come. She had to believe that with all her heart and soul. It was all
that was pushing her on through the chilly night.
Weaving in and out of the trees, they sliced and whipped at
her as she refused to stop or look back. The only sounds that filled the night
were that of her footfalls and her rapid breathing.
Tripping over a root, she went down, scraping her knees and
palms, but refusing to give up.
She was tougher than this.
This wasn’t the way she was exiting this existence.
NOT HAPPENING!
There was no way in hell that after all she survived in her
life that she was going down to this maniac. Up she jumped, all the while pushing
on to move closer towards freedom. When she’d run as far as she could,
barefoot, she leaned protectively behind a tree to listen and track the
possible person chasing her.
There were no sounds.
No one was out there.
Surely, if he was following she’d hear him.
That gave her renewed hope, and then there was the crash of
reality. She was in the middle of nowhere, dressed in her underwear, and it was
getting later in the evening. If she were in Vegas, she’d know how cold it was
going to get but here she had no clue. Was she still in Nevada? He took her
early in the day and at this point she could be in another state.
Her first instinct told her to find help, and then if need
be shelter from the cold. It was survival mode, and she wasn’t going to panic
any more than she already was inside.
Pushing on, she refused to let it break her.
Not yet. There’d be no tears until he came for her. Once she
saw him, she’d shatter apart under the exhaustion of it all. For now, there was
the need to stay strong and keep believing that she had a snowball’s chance in
hell of surviving all this.
Moving through the trees, she knew as long as she kept
moving in one direction, it would be okay.
She wasn’t aware of how long it had taken, but there was a
clearing up ahead, and it gave her hope. Maybe, it was a rest stop or a police
outpost.
When she broke through the tree line, there was indeed a
building visible.
Her heart soared as she raced toward it. There were no cars,
no lights or sign of life. If she had to, she’d break the window and find some
warmth. Her hopes crashed as she spotted the barred windows. Well shit! Okay, on to plan B.
Reading the sign beside the door, she was never so happy to
see words in her life. It was a ranger’s station, and the location was the
national park right outside of Vegas. She wasn’t that far from home after all.
She pounded on the door and peeked in the windows, hoping
that someone was working late.
No one was there.
Damn!
And then she saw the phone booth. Immediately, she knew what
needed to be done. Racing towards it on damaged feet, she pushed the pain out
of her mind. This would be her one shot at salvation.
“Please work,” she muttered as she slammed the door to the
rickety old booth and picked up the handset.
There was a tone and her heart began to rejoice.
She dialed nine-one-one and prayed for help.
“What’s your emergency?” came the monotone woman’s voice.
She almost wanted to weep in joy at just that sound alone.
“I’ve been abducted. I escaped the man’s car, and I think I know where I am.”
She read her the sign above the ranger’s station door and waited for the woman
to say something, anything.
“You’ve been abducted?” Immediately, the woman’s tone
changed from boredom to urgency.
“You need to call this number. It’s the direct line to the
head of the FBI in Las Vegas. His name is Director Greyson Croft. You need to
call him,” she demanded. “Do it now! I don’t know how much time I have!”
“Okay, calm down,” the woman said, taking the number that she
repeated over and over.
“I can’t! I escaped, and he may be coming back for me! Call
the damn number! He’ll verify that this isn’t a prank!”
The operator kept her on the line and did what she asked.
When the call was picked up on the third ring, she spoke to the man.
“Is this Greyson Croft?”
“Yes,” he replied, sounding frazzled and very irritated.
“I have a woman on the line, and she gave me this number.
She’s saying that she has been abducted.”
There was hope beginning to blossom in him.
“Where’s she at?” he demanded, motioning to everyone in the
room to follow him.
The operator told him what she’d relayed and gave him the
story.
“Do you have her on the line?” He practically shouted into
the phone.
“Yes, sir.”
He knew what he needed to do.
“I need her name.” There was always the slim chance that
this was a prank. “And then tell her to hide! We’re on our way.”
The operator switched over to the woman. “Ma’am, are you
still with me?”
“Yes, but hurry. It’s cold out. He took my clothes.” Her
teeth chattered as she scanned the area to assure he wasn’t coming for her.
“Director Croft needs me to get your name. Who are you?”
She wanted to weep at the mere mention of his name.
“I’m his wife. I’m Detective Emma Croft.”
This work may not be reproduced or copied without consent from the author. To use it, please contact Morgan Kelley at
Author.m.Kelley@gmail.com
© Copyright 2013 by Morgan
Kelley LLC All rights
reserved. No
parts of this publication may be
reproduced
or transmitted in any form or by any
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All characters are fictional
and any
similarity to real life or individuals is
coincidental
