Jon looked puzzled for a moment and asked,
"What do you mean after his White Rabbit?"
"Do you know Jefferson Airplane? White Rabbit? One pill makes you smaller and the other makes you tall? Seriously did you have any fun in high school or college?"
"Whatever, what does this have to do with anything?"
Steven looked offended and pushed his head back, his eyes still focused on Jon as he said,
“It has to do with everything! See I had a feeling what he was up to and followed him into the washroom and I saw him regurgitating his medication that he just swallowed. I asked,
"So why are you doing that Alex?"
Alex responded,
"They just want to keep you in these walls. They want to poison your mind and not let you expand your true potential. In the end we are all in here because we want to protect the ones we love."
"Protect the ones you love huh? Is that what they tell you? If that is true, then why are you the one being locked up? Why are you the one they are giving medication to?"
Alex paused for a moment then looked back at Steven. "I don't know why? I just thought it was right."
"Right? What do they know what is right? The more ideas you have the more they just try to push back. Try to keep you condemned, contained. Take a look around Alex. That is what you are, a condemned, trapped, lonely and confused boy. Tell me Alex are you a boy? What do you really want to do?"
Alex shrugged his shoulders and pondered thoughtfully for a moment before he could respond,
"I don't know what I want? I just want to get out of here. "
Steven smiled and knelt down beside Alex leaning against the bathroom stall and said,
“That is what they want you to think. Get out, just get out, and be free. Well we all want to be free Alex. My question is what do you hear? What do you see?"
Alex shuddered and tears started to roll down his cheeks. They were flush, a look of frustration and torment came across his round face as he replied,
"The voices, they won't leave me alone, they call to me. Ask me to do things that are horrible. Horrible thoughts, horrible, unspeakable thoughts."
"Then why throw up the meds? If you don't want to hear the voices or see the thoughts anymore why stop taking the medication?"
"That only works half the time. The medication only turns the voices into a whisper. I can still hear them but they are faint. My doctor keeps telling me they aren't real. But I know they are. I can hear them, pounding in my head all the time."
"What do they say to you Alex?"
"Kill her, relieve her soul."
"Have you killed before Alex?"
"No of course not! I would never do that!"
"Why not? If they are telling you to do this, why not go through it? The voices will probably stop if you do."
"Do you really think so? If I take her life, the voices will leave me alone?"
"Oh I don't think so Alex, I know so. All you have to do is obey what they are asking you to do. Then this will all go away."
"But how do I get out?"
"Oh you don't have to worry about that Alex. I can get us both out. I just need to know you can do what needs to be done."
Jon made his way around the steel table, his eyes went coal black with tears streaming down the sides of his cheeks. He threw his right fist directly into the side of Stevens head.
"You bastard!" as he lunged his body into Steven taking them both to the ground.
"It was you! It was you!"
Jon repeated as he mounted Steven smashing his fists into Stevens head.
Steven started laughing spitting out large amounts of blood from his mouth. His legs wrapped around Jon’s body and with a sudden movement used his chained shackles to pull Jon's head even closer. He mounted his back and like a giant anaconda started squeezing Jon. Jon started to choke out, he could feel that puking exasperation as he tried to gasp for air but could only find more pain. Still laughing Steven saw the door to the interrogation room swing open as the police flooded the room. He screamed out,
"What happened in that cellar Jonny boy?”
"That's enough!”
As one of the officers yelled pulling out a baton swinging it into Stevens’s right rib. Steven instantly let go of Jon who was limp and gasping for air. They pulled Jon towards the door who was kicking and his mouth was moving but no words were coming out. Cassandra reached for Steven with the other officers and pulled him through the door. She closed it quickly behind her and helped Jon up to a chair. Detective Parsons focused on Jon saying,
"Jon, calm down, just breathe Jon, and just breathe."
Jon’s eyes were now red as they roamed around the room trying to register his surroundings. She couldn't tell if it was from lack of oxygen or anger. Finally words came out of his moving lips.
"I'm going to kill that sick son of a bitch!"
He tried to push himself up out of the chair but the other officers held him back down. Jon started to cry out a noise that could not be explained. Only it sounded like it started out to a slow grunt, then a howl of an animal that truly was in pain.
Cassandra yelled,
"Jon you have to calm down, just breath. These officers cannot let you go unless you promise me to calm down."
Jon started to take shallow breaths and relaxed. His body went limp as he unclenched his hands off the arms of the officers. Cassandra nodded to them and they gently let go. She knelt down and softly spoke to Jon as she said,
"Jon, what did Steven mean by the cellar?"
Jon stopped sobbing and a sorrowful look came across his face. His eyes focused past hers and it was like he was no longer there. His voice stretched out in a solemn manner and replied,
"I haven't thought about that day in over fifteen years. I sometimes have nightmares about it but I don't really remember them anymore. It was like it never even existed. A bad horror movie plot that creeps in on you sometimes. But then there are the days that you realized that horror movie wasn't a movie. It was a reality that happened and the movie reel just won't stop playing in your head."
Cassandra looked into the two way mirror and saw that Steven was helped up by the officers and put back in his seat. He was bleeding quite badly but the smile was still instilled upon his face. She turned back to Jon and said,
"What does that mean Jon? What happened?"
Jon replied,
“Nothing.”
Cassandra’s eyes widened as she gazed upon Jon’s face. She looked down for a moment then back into his eyes as she said,
“What happened Jon?”
Jon didn’t answer. Lost in thought to himself, reminiscing about that fateful night.
“It was two o clock in the morning when I got a call from an unknown number on my phone. I was just getting off work and was in a corner store buying a late night snack, a candy bar and a pop. I was walking towards my car and my cell phone started buzzing. I picked up it up. It was my brother on the line and he sounded distressed.
"He said it would go away. He promised they would go away."
"Alex is that you? What are you talking about?"
"Jon, I love you, I love you Jon."
"Alex what are you talking about? Calm down."
"I need you to come get me Jon, I need you to come get me."
"You know I can't do that Alex, you aren't allowed to leave the asylum."
"Alex......I'm not at the asylum."
Jon stopped walking, a gut wrenching lump filled up his throat. His stomach felt like it was in knots and he grasped the side of his car. He finally started to breathe and let out a gigantic sigh.
"Where are you Alex?"
"I'm at this old house in the basement on 2748 River side crossing. Jon I’m really scared, the voices didn't go away. You have to come help me."
Jon swung the car door open and threw the bag into the passenger side.
"Stay right where you are, I’m coming now. Don't move."
I sped downtown going
through every light, and eventually came out of the city past the burbs into the country. I didn’t know exactly what my brother was talking about but had some sort of idea on what it might be about. My brother was put away because he had a history of violence towards other people and himself. He was sick and needed help. The only way we as a family could do that was to incarcerate him in an asylum for the insane. See when my brother turned eighteen something happened to him. He snapped, and tried to kill one of the neighbours. He claims it was some voice that told him to do it. He stopped himself and called me before he went through with it. My family took him to a doctor and diagnosed him with paranoid schizophrenia. I convinced the next door neighbour not to press charges for the assault so my brother wouldn’t have it on his record. I thought maybe he could straighten out on the medication the doctors were giving him. But now he claims he is out and is waiting for me at some random address. All I could think about was that this felt like that same phone call 5 years ago.
I pulled up to the house, it was dark. There were no lights on. I took my holster strap with my gun and slung it around my shoulder, snapping it to my waste. Reached for my jacket in the backseat and slung it over myself. I shut the car door gently and started walking towards the house. It was quiet, not a sound from anywhere. As I went to knock on the door I noticed that it was slightly already ajar. I pulled out my flashlight and eased my way in calling out for Alex,
“Bro are you still here?”
I could hear a little voice coming from down the hall.
“I’m down here Jon.”
I walked down the hall and it lead to the kitchen. There was a door wide open. I shone the light towards the empty darkness to find a staircase that could only lead to a basement. That lump in my throat suddenly crept up into a raw unnerved fear as I said,
“Okay bro, it’s me Jon. I’m coming down.”
I made my way down the staircase, I could hear every creek as my weight pressed down on the wood. I made it to the bottom of the basement. The ground was soft and wet, full of mud. I could hear sobbing coming from the corner of the room. I shone my light towards it. There was Alex slumped up against the stone wall crying. He sniffled and said,
“I couldn’t help it Jon, the voices made me do it. I couldn’t help it.”
“Calm down Alex, what happened? What are you talking about?”
“They wouldn’t get out of my head. The children, they kept telling me I was a bad person. That I did things I never would do. I had to make them stop. They had to stop.”
I took a couple of steps closer and reached out my hand to put on my brother when I saw a small hand sticking out of the mud. Its little fingers half curled up. Startled I leaped back in horror and stammered,
“Alex! What did you do?!”
Alex sobbed and looked up at me with tears streaming down his eyes as he said,
“I told you that I had to make them stop.”
I had two choices at that moment. I could be a police officer, call it in and give my brother to the law. The chair or life is what they would give him. Or I could be his brother. Help him cover up the bodies and take him back to the asylum. Could I really live with myself though? Even though he is my brother, he killed children. How would I know he wouldn’t get out and do it again?”
Jon got up and pushed his way out the door and back down the hallway. All he could think about was getting some air. Everything felt like it was closing in on him. His collar on his shirt felt like it was squeezing around his neck. He quickly ripped at it, tearing off the buttons. Beads of sweat perspired over his brow as he made his way to the exit. His chest started to tighten and he started taking quick shallow breaths that felt like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. He knew he was having a panic attack. He swung the door open so hard that it bounced off the concrete wall. He was outside now. Taking in deep breaths he leaned against the wall, his mind racing as he thought,
“How can this be? How can that psychopath know my brother so well? Is he really the reason Alex did those horrible things all those years ago? He must be, no one would have access to that information unless he really was there.”
Jon fumbled into his pockets and pulled out the deck of cigarettes and lighter. He was shaking profusely as he lit one up and drew back the smoke. He pressed his palm against his forehead reliving everything that went on the past hour. He thought to himself,
“The only explanation is that Steven Willis is telling the truth and knew my brother. He had to be the one who persuaded him to do those unspeakable acts.”
Jon dropped his cigarette on the ground snuffing it out with his shoe. He let out a deep sigh and made his way back into the station. He knew things were about to get hairy. Jon thought to himself,
“This Steven guy is too close. He knows too much about my life. He’s using it to screw me up. Make me think he has the edge. I just have to focus on the case at hand. Get him to start talking about himself again. Keep to my game plan and stick to it.”
Jon walked into the back room. Cassandra was sitting down on a chair and crossed her arms as she said,
“You’re done this interrogation Jon. You hit him while in custody. Any lawyer is going to have a field day with this. They could try to sue, even try to say the confessions were in coercion and get the whole case thrown out!”
Jon shook his head and said,
“Steven won’t do that. It’s what he wants. He wants me to lose control. He poisoned my brother Parsons! He poisoned his mind with his sick twisted, psycho bullshit!”
Detective Parsons looked down at the ground for a moment. She felt uneasy as she glanced back in the interrogation room at Steven Willis. She knew Jon was right. It is what the psychopath wanted. She knew Steven wasn’t going to talk to anyone else. She let out a sigh as she looked back at Detective Cratick and said,
“So what is it going to be Jon? He won’t talk to anyone else but you? Do you still want to go through this?” Jon nodded and said,
“I have to make a phone call first.”
Jon walked down the hallway corridor of the police department and made his way through the holding cells. He found a door to his right that was a tiny room with a phone hanging onto the wall. Jon walked in and closed the door behind him. He lifted the phone off of the hook taking in a deep breath for a moment. He then dialed 0 and waited. An operator picked up and said,
“Hello, operator how can I direct your call?”
Jon cleared his throat as he replied and said,
“British Columbia, Sylas Jenkins Mental Asylum please.”
The operator responded,
“Just one moment. Connecting you now.”
Jon waited intently as the phone rang. After a few rings a woman picked up on the other end stating,
“Sylas Jenkins Mental Asylum how can I help you?”
Jon spoke up and said,
“Yes hi there, my name is Detective Jonathon Cratick I am with CIA Criminal Investigating Analyst team. I’m a profiler based from Quantico. I need some information on a patient you used to have.”
The woman responded,
“Oh I am sorry, we can’t give out any patient’s information over the phone. You are going to have to go through the proper channels in your department to release any personal information on file from any of our current or ex patients.”
Jon gritted his teeth for a moment replying,
“I understand that. This is urgent and needs to be dealt with in a timely matter. Can you please just….”
The receptionist cut him off and responded,
“Again sir I don’t know who you are. You are going to have to go through the proper channels before I can release that information.”
Jon nodded his head in acceptance and was about to hang up. A thought suddenly dawned upon him as he realized he had one more alternative. He asked,
“I understand, is Doctor Kevin Hansin still practicing there?”
The receptionist paused and said,
“Yes he still i
s.”
Jon smiled as he placed his hand on the painted white brick wall and exclaimed,
“Can you please connect me to him?”
The receptionist paused for a moment and then said,
“Yes, just a moment.”
Jon waited for a minute and then heard a familiar voice come over the line saying,
“Doctor Kevin Hansin speaking, may I ask who is calling?”
Jon paced back and forth stretching the long black coiled telephone cord with him as he said,
“Yes my name is Detective Jonathon Cratick. I don’t know if you remember me, one of your patient’s was my brother….”
Doctor Hansin cut him off mid-sentence and responded,
“Alexander Cratick. I remember you well Detective. It’s been a long time. I am so sorry what happened to your brother.”
Jon paused for a moment. He felt a choke come up in his throat as he managed to swallow it back down and said,
“Well that’s what I am calling about. I came across a unique case that involves that tragedy and need some sensitive information about a possible former patient of yours. I know that you normally can’t give that information out without the proper paperwork but this is urgent.”
Doctor Hansin paused for a moment as he said,
“Jon normally I don’t do this, but for you, I understand. Who do you need me to look up?”
Jon threw his hand in the air and clenched his fist thrusting it downward with his elbow to his side as he rejoiced with a whisper,
“Yes, thank you.”
He then proceeded with the question,
“I need information on a possible former patient Steven Willis. He might have signed himself in under an alias. The patient could have been possibly diagnosed with a wide array of psychological disorders. Can you locate anything on that patient’s information please?”
Profile of the Gemini Serial Killer Page 7