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The Rapist - Crime (standard:horror, 4449 words) | |||
Author: hvysmker | Added: Jul 07 2004 | Views/Reads: 3939/3369 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
A serial rapist is caught, a rather unusual one with unusual complications. | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story in the hotel. It was on the fourth page, a dead hooker and her pimp were hardly an unusual event in Chicago. RE: We'll have to check that out, it must be on record. HJ: Yeah, how that make you feel, Pete, can I call you Pete? PP: I answer to Peter, don't like Pete. HJ: Hokay, Peter. How did you feel after that one, your first? PP: Anyway, I remember I was nervous for a week or so. I thought they might have my fingerprints or something. I kept waiting for a knock on my door, Oh, and my fists hurt like hell. They were swollen to twice their size and hurt like hell. After that I tried to use a club, brass knuckles or something. I found I could carry some padded leather gloves with me, cheap work gloves like. Not very suspicious, but they protected my knuckles. A glancing blow did wonders with the leather cutting their faces, and I could throw them away afterwards. HJ: There would have been way too many fingerprints in one of those hotel rooms. They never clean or even dust those cheapy rooms. No way the cops would pay that much, or go to the trouble, for a dead hooker. PP: I didn't know that, then anyway. Anyway, I didn't do it to anyone else for a long time, years anyway. I joined the Army and went to Vietnam for a couple of years. Anyway, that's where I got good at it. I was stationed in this Vietnamese City, just outside of Saigon. I could go down town whenever I wanted, didn't even need a pass or nothing. I had to wear a uniform though, which was a bummer. Thousands of hookers, and they came and left so quick, nobody noticed when a few were missing. Not even much trouble when they showed up dead. Anyway, I tried paying for regular sex. Like before, it was ok, but not as good as that one hooker in Chicago. When I did it, you know sex, I kept thinking about the black hooker's eyes, and wondering what it would be like to do it, you know kill, another one. I knew it was wrong, and taking a big chance, but..... I don't know if you can understand, nobody understands, anyway, I just got drunk one night and did it, like in Chicago, but no pimp. Anyway, again nobody said anything. Wasn't any newspaper, but nobody seemed to know about it on post. And, it was as good as before, except I couldn't understand her language after a while. I knew she was pleading, but I was mostly watching her beautiful eyes change. It was wonderful, seeing those changes. First she was surprised when I hit her, without even taking my clothes off. This time I hit her hard, and while she lay there sobbing, holding her stomach, I shoved a rubber slipper in her mouth, as far as I could. She tried to stop me then, but I used a narrow towel and tied the shoe in. Anyways, then I started good. I took my time, watching those eyes. This one showed a lot of pain then. She could mutter some around the slipper, but not very loud. After a while she stopped trying to stop me and tried to turn her head away. I couldn't let her do that, I couldn't see her eyes, her pleading lovely eyes. I could smell her as she shit herself, but that just meant I had to be careful and not get shit all over me. Maybe the one in Chicago did too, I didn't notice though. Later I found they all do when I choke them. Anyway, I could see the moment when she knew she was gonna die. I can still see and love that look. It's different than any other. I knew I had the power, the power over her. Another blow or two and she would be dead. I stopped for a while, sat on the bed, and lit a cigarette, watching her look at me. A couple of minutes later, I could see her eyes reflect pain again, which turned to hope as she watched my cigarette get shorter. She probably thought I would finish it and leave. I looked away from her eyes, to my watch. Almost an hour had gone by. Anyways, I figured that I better finish up soon. Someone might come to check on her. Anyways, I smiled at her and slowly swept the cigarette nearer and nearer to her face, watching her eyes change as she realized that I wasn't really done with her yet. Her face muscles tautened and she tried to scream as the hot coal came closer and closer. She didn't realize that the last thing I wanted was to burn those beautiful eyeballs. Laughing, I held the hot coal up her nostril, listening to the screams and watching hope fade from her eyes. The cigarette went out and I finally ended it, in tune with my own feeling of completion, choking the remaining hope from her now dead eyes. I was soon back at base, like nothing had happened. HJ: Jesus Bob, look at the front of his pants. RE: Lets cut this short Harry. Peter, we have some paperwork to do. We'll continue this later, OK? (15-16 seconds) OK, Peter? PP: Guess so, whatever you guys want. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------ Rosetown Police Department, 322 Jefferson St, Rosetown Ohio 43444 Interview Room 120 April 26, 2012 01:25 p.m. Present: Officer(s): Detectives Robert Evens, Harry Jefferson. Suspect(s): Peter Persinski W itness(s): Police Psychologist Phyllis Adams, Columbus Police Departmen t Remarks: In regard to unknown numbers and types of criminal activity t o wit Murder in the first degree --------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- HJ: How was lunch, Peter? PP: Ok, I guess, as good as McD's. Who's the woman? PA: I'm a Doctor, Peter. I heard about you and got permission to sit here and watch. I won't say anything if you don't want me too, just sit here and listen. PP: A shrink, uh? Anyways, don't matter to me. You would read it later anyways. HJ: So, about how many people did you kill in Vietnam, Peter? That's interesting but doesn't really help us here. PP: Before I start talking, I want the shrink to sit in front of me. I want to see her eyes. HJ: Is that OK with you Doctor. You're the one who wanted to sit in on this. PA: I guess so, why not. Peter doesn't want to hurt me. Do you Peter? ....... Peter, you don't want to hurt me, do you? PP: Well, to be totally honest Doctor....... I don't suppose so, no. I just want to look at you while we talk. Anyways, I suppose ten or twelve women, and a couple of men. I wanted to go on field duty, but they stuck me in a clerk's job. I hardly even saw any American women, and the Officers had all of them anyways. Do you want me to describe them, the girls I mean? They were pretty much like the first one, except I learned from each one, how to make the eyes change back and forth, and that's when I started on kids. RE: You say you started on men and kids? How did that happen? PP: Well, there was this old man, a Vietnamese, about two battalions over. He took care of the hot water heaters, stoves for the cooks, and that sort of thing. I knew he was a Viet Cong by the way he was always looking at everything. See, I'd become and expert on eyes. I could tell he was studying everything he saw. He went home, off post, at night and probably told his Viet Cong buddies what we were doing. Anyways, we were restricted to base for a while. They were changing our money. See, we had this paper money they printed for us to use. Not American and not Vietnamese either. Every once in a while, to keep the black market down, they would restrict everyone and give us a new kind, making the old one worthless. If you tried to change a whole lot of it, they would investigate you, find out how you got so much. Anyways, we were restricted and I got horny. I figured that since I never screwed the girls, maybe I would check this guy out and see if it did the same thing for me. I went over to his little shack on post just before he left for home. I just went in and grabbed him. A wiry little guy for his age, he fought back more than those little girls did, but I finally got him tied up. I tried everything I could, but it just wasn't the same. The little bastard never showed much. He just stared at me. Sure, I could see when he died, but it didn't really relieve me. I just did it to myself, on his face, before beating him to death, but it wasn't the same at all, even made me feel guilty. I tried a couple more men at different times, but they were never much fun, though. PA: You say kids too? That's kind of unusual for this sort of thing. How did you get started with them? PP: By accident. I had just finished with this one hooker, when a little girl came in carrying what looked like a broken doll. Anyways, I had to do something. I was already finished myself though, but I couldn't let her scream or tell anyone, see. You can understand that, can't you? (About a minute of silence.) RE: OK, sure. Go on Peter. PP: OK, anyways, I grabbed her, and looked around for something to gag her and tie her up with. I thought of my belt, but then realized that I would be suspicious walking around without one. They would find it and someone put two and two together. Anyways, I couldn't see anything and she was struggling. I was holding one hand over her face and the other over her mouth. I shrugged and just started squeezing with both hands. Anyways, it was different in some ways. I could see her panic turn to fear. Her eyes bugged out and I even thought of taking them out and home with me, at least for a few seconds. I could feel her little heart beating through my arms and shirt. After a while, her heart started skipping and then stopped. I didn't see any feeling, any acceptance of death in her eyes though. I only saw it a couple of times with kids. It's like they don't understand death like grownups do. RE: Geeze. HJ: Maybe you better tell us about afterwards, back in the States, Peter. We can get all the Vietnam stuff later. The doctor doesn't have time to hear it all right now, do you Doc? PA: Uh, what was that Bob? Oh, yes Peter, what about in the States when you got back? PP: I like your eyes Doctor, especially when I talk about kids. They get all bright and misty like. (Laugh) I even saw some fear, didn't you guys see it, just a flash like. PA: Leave my eyes out of it, please Peter. RE: You can sit behind him if you want, Doctor. PA: That's allright, Bob. PP: I'm finished now anyway. I don't want to talk anymore until tomorrow. RE: Yes, now that you mention it, I can see that Peter. I'll have someone get you some clean clothes in a little while. PP: Thank you, Bob. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ --- Rosetown Police Department, 322 Jefferson St, Rosetown Ohio 43444 Ca ptain Zymonski's Office April 27, 2012 10:10 a.m. Present: Officer(s) : Detectives Robert Evens, Harry Jefferson. Suspect(s): Peter Persins ki Witness(s): Police Psychologist Phyllis Adams, Columbus Police Depar tment Remarks: In regard to unknown numbers and types of criminal activi ty to wit Murder in the first degree. Interview Room 120 being painted and Room 122 in use. May be variation in sound due to different audio ta pe machinery. ---------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------ RE: Good morning Peter. Did you sleep well las t night. PP: Morning Bob, and Harry. Not too bad. Is the good doctor going to be here today? HJ: Mornin', she should be here any minute. Do you want to wait awhile? PP: That's ok, Bob. Where do you want me to start? RE: How about when you got back to the States from Vietnam? PP: Sure, let me see now, that was a long time ago.......... Ok, got it. I was let out of the Army early, which was something they did at the time. They figured there wasn't any sense in making me process in at some other place and then process out in a month or so. Anyways, they just had me turn in my uniforms and stuff in Oakland when I got back. A couple of hour later I was a civilian again, with back pay and extra money to pay my way home. Not much to spend it on over there. I had over twelve thousand dollars in all. Having been around the world by then, at least Kentucky, Texas, Honolulu, and Vietnam, I didn't want to bother going back to Chicago. So, I just kept the money and stayed in Frisco. It was as good a place as any other. Besides, it was February, and I had no wish to go back to the cold weather back home. Anyways, I got a hotel room in Frisco. I got drunk that first night and thought things over. I'm not dumb, and I'd watched all those television and movies about people like me. Killers I mean. I knew that I probably couldn't stop. It's like an addiction, and there were plenty of addicts in Vietnam, and the compulsion just too powerful to ignore. After each time I would be good for a few days, or even weeks, but it would get to me sooner or later. It would take over my mind. I would spend all my time thinking about it. It's hard to explain something like that compulsion. I would find myself walking the streets in a kind of stupor, watching and staring at the eyes of every woman I came in contact with. Some of them would get uneasy, and even yell at me or call the cops. It was all I could think about, until one day, it always happened, when I had enough. The relief after all that waiting was exquisite, but much more dangerous. That's when I sometimes got a man or kid, since I was desperate. It was better to take my time and plan ahead of time, follow some women and find one that I could get alone. That way I took few chances and could back off quickly if I sensed danger. Anyways, I got that hotel room and a half gallon of cheap vodka, with a sixpack of coca cola. I spent the night drinking and thinking. I remembered all those movies and knew that the cops and F.B.I. followed a trail, usually a paper trail, like the one where a long distance trucker was killing hitchhikers. They could go back later and look at his log books, finding he was always in the area when a girl was murdered. I had to avoid that sort of thing. They also found the guy by the way he did things, his MO. That was something I had to change, since mine was always the same. I knew I was lucky. Lucky no Vietnamese or Army Detective had found me that way. But then, Saigon was such a big city with so many hookers it would have been hard. Anyways, I decided my best bet was as a traveling salesman. Not one that works for a big company, but the door to door kind that works for himself. I went out the next day and bought an old delivery van, the big boxlike kind. It was beat up but ran alright, I had it checked over first by a mechanic. It still had the logo of a Frisco Grocery chain on it. That gave me my idea on how to make a living. I would look in the phone book for a small local factory. I could give them a line of shit about shopping for that Grocery chain. That way I could get a real good deal on a van load of whatever they made, with a promise of buying much more if it sold. I would just go to another town and sell it for a profit, any profit would do. Then go to a small factory in that new town and buy a load of something else. It took a lot of hustling but gave me a good income. I kept my sex down to a minimum that way, finding that hard work tired me out. I was careful in my sex life during that period, with only one killing per town and the next at least a hundred miles away. I tried to hold out to one in a State, but sometimes the pressure built up. I also tried to vary the killing. It had to be slow to watch the eyes, but there were many ways. A couple of times I even carried a woman with me for days at a time. Once I had a particularly good looking hitchhiker. I took her with me for over a week. I really enjoyed just knowing she was in the back, driving along the Interstate and planning what to do with her next, and knowing she was in the back of the van waiting. Knowing she was also thinking about me thinking. During the day I would stop and tell her about my plans for that night, with maybe a little oral to tide me over. Anyways, I was doing such a good job that I started a franchise, complete with buying an old warehouse. I found that a lot of those little factories had too much inventory, and were glad to sell it for only a little profit. That way they could fill up the warehouse again and sell me more later. My business grew, but I hired a manager, telling him that I wanted to stay on the road. We communicated by radio. After twenty some years of that, and maybe a couple of hundred women, I became a millionaire. That's what led to my downfall. PA: What's going on? I told you I was coming over. You started without me. HJ: Don't get bent out of shape, Lady. You can listen to the tape later. I got me an appointment in a couple of hours, and we need two persons in here with him at all times. PA: You still could have waited. Hello Peter, Miss me? PP: I missed your eyes, Ms. Phyllis. PA: Bet you did, didn't you? What is it about women's eyes, Peter? PP: I never thought about it, but mostly the way they show emotion, I guess. A man is taught not to, from the time they're kids. RE: We better get on with it. So you were a millionaire and kept on killing, uh, Peter. PP: Yes, anyways, I was featured in this newspaper article about self made men. The Governor of this State read it and wanted to meet me. So, like a good little citizen I said sure. We met while he was at a fund-raising dinner. We were outside with all these reporters and flashbulbs going off, it was an organized pandemonium. RE: And the whole world knows what happened next Peter. You had to be a hero, didn't you? PP: Yeah, like a damn fool. I saw these guys, they were with the reporters, reaching under their coats. I was closest to them and when they pulled out guns I jumped them both. I kicked one in the crotch and punched the other one in the face. When a third also got his gun out and started shooting I got mad and threw myself on him, saving the Governor. The photographers got the whole thing over the air, live. I was shot three times, but nothing real serious. A few days later people started calling in to the police and even America's Most Wanted. They recognized my picture on television. So, here I am. RE: Tough luck Peter. On one hand you're a serial killer, on the other a National Hero. HJ: Now nobody knows what to do with you. You're an enigma. And with that, I gotta go fellas and ladies. My dentist won't wait. Guess this interview's over. PA: Hey I just got here. I'm officially a policeman. I can be the second cop in the room. RE: I don't know about how legal that would be. PA: Why do you need two in the first place? RE: The Attorney General made the rule after a suspect accused an Officer of brutality when he was alone with the guy. It saves on lawsuits. PA: You don't mind, do you Peter? You won't accuse me of brutality, will you? PP: It don't bother me any, Ms. Phyllis, not at all. RE: Damn, I wanted Harry to bring some coffee in before he left. You wanna get some for us, Phyllis, while I watch Peter here? PA: You gotta be kidding, Bob. For one thing I outrank you, and for another I stopped that sort of thing when I graduated from college. A man can get his own coffee. PP: I could use a cup too, Bob, black. (Short pause) RE: All right, all right. You want any, Ms. Adams, Mam? PA: Tell me Peter, what do you see in my eyes? Be honest now. PP: Come closer, I can't tell from here. PA: Close enough? Now what do you see. PP: Strange, Phyllis, your eyes seem kinda dead, like they say mine are, kind of like a kill..... (Sound of three pistol shots.) --------------------------------------------------- From: Police Chief Jefferson Campbell Columbus, Ohio, Police Department To: Captain Zymonski, Rosetown Ohio. I am sorry, but we have no record of a Major Phyllis Adams working anywhere in our department. Or, for that matter, in the Columbus City Government. If someone is using that name and title, they should be immediately arrested. Please inform our office of anything done in that regard. Impersonating a government employee is a serious offence. Signed Jefferson Campbell, Police Chief Tweet
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