Profile of the Gemini Serial Killer

by Michael Rawding

  Jon walked into the plane and saw that Steven was strapped down into the chair. He sat down across from him and started to tuck the recorder back into his breast pocket. He took off his trench coat and laid it over the arm. He started unbuttoning the cuffs to his white shirt to get more comfortable for the flight. Steven glared at Jon and said,

  “My, my, wouldn’t I give to hear what is on that tape Jonny Boy.”

  Jon looked up as he was unbuttoning his last cuff and pulled his thick black hair back with the palm of his hand. He smiled back at Steven and said,

  “You already know what is on the tape Steven. It’s mostly your confessions. We just need to see if your story checks out.”

  The plane’s engines had already started as they were moving to take off. Jon buckled himself in as he stared back at Steven. The plane pulled them back in their seats from the g-force as they started their ascent into the air. Jon felt that familiar little flip in his stomach as they rose higher and higher into the clouds. Steven still had his eyes locked onto Jon’s as he said,

  “I was talking about my profile on me you are coming up with Jonny boy. You don’t have to lie to me you know.”

  Jon looked up at Steven with a half way wayward smile. He shook his head slightly and started tapping his index finger on the seat chair. Steven tilted his head slightly, glancing down for a moment at the tapping and back up at Jonathon as he slithered,

  “Craving that cigarette I see. Oh don’t worry Jonny boy, that flipping feeling in your stomach will pass as the plane levels out. It’s kind of like the same feeling when I killed Emily Clark you know? At first there is fear, anxiety, excitement……”

  Steven leaned a little closer. The cross straps of the seat belts tightened against his chest as he hissed,

  “….Chaos.”

  Jon shifted in his seat, uncomfortable from the look in Steven’s eyes. Steven’s smile was even wider now; knowing he had Jon where he wanted him. He then said,

  “Makes you feel a little uneasy doesn’t it Jonny Boy? A little queasy in the tum tum? See I felt that too until I opened her up. I had to see what she looked like.”

  Jon shook his head reaching into his coat pocket that was laid out across his lap muttering,

  “Yeah and is that when you and Shawn came to be?”

  Steven smiled as the plane leveled out and said,

  “When I opened her up, I felt calm. What Shawn and I became that night was glorious. It was destined for us to become what we already were.”

  Jon revealed his flask and unscrewed the cap. He went to take a swig. The scent of the whiskey hit the air as Steven winced. He shook his head violently. His arms shaking in his straps as his body contorted; he screamed,

  “No, no, no! Get away from me. Get it away from me!”

  Jon looked at Steven for a moment confused. He then looked down at the flask. Raising his eyebrows in confusion, he raised the flask upward as he said,

  “What? This?”

  Steven snorted with saliva now drooling from the corners of his mouth. His eyes twisted and rolled in his head like a shark, revealing the dilated black pupils. His nostrils flared as he hollered,

  “GET IT AWAY FROM HIM!”

  Jon slowly put down the flask, in-between himself and his seat cushion. He slowly raised his hands, palms out; displaying them empty to Steven he said,

  “Okay? Okay? Hi Shawn. Why do you detest whiskey so much?”

  Steven wrenched in his seat replying,

  “We told you, we don’t like whiskey!”

  Jon nodded his head replying,

  “Right…..your father….he was an abusive alcoholic? Wasn’t he Shawn?”

  Steven snapped back and forth in his restraints. The chains clacking against the metal seat and hard plastic. His eyes rolling around in his head like he was possessed. He rolled his head on his shoulders, rotating his head on his neck like a swivel and looked at Steven; still frothing in the mouth like a rabid dog as he said,

  “I had to protect him. Just like I am going to protect him from you Jon!”

  Jon nodded as he replied,

  “Okay, protect him from me Shawn? You don’t have to protect Steven anymore. Both of you are going to get the help you two need….”

  Steven let out a loud harsh cackle and said,

  “You don’t know what we have planned for you Jonny boy. You don’t know how close you are too us. To understand us. There is no help Jon. The stars are aligned, the weather is warm. Tell me Jonny boy? Have you ever smelled fresh blood on a warm summer’s night?”

  Jon looked at Steven bewildered. The black eyes staring back at him made him shudder. The voice, his movements, everything suggested that he was no longer talking to Steven. It was like talking to someone completely different. Steven smiled and said,

  “You will remember the olfactory filaments Jonny boy. Trust me you will remember the iron taste as it swirls in your nostrils and drips on your tongue with the sweetened smell of summer.”

  Jon looked down for a moment gripping his forehead. He clasped his face and then looked back up at Steven in disgust. Steven’s eyes were no longer black, but to the cold icy blue again as he smiled and said,

  “Don’t worry, you almost had it. You’ll remember.”

  Jon got up out of his seat in horror and walked to the back of the plane. He motioned to an officer to take his seat to keep an eye on Steven. He needed to get away from the sick psychopath for a little bit. He sat back down in another seat in the back of the plane and decided to drift off for a little bit. As he placed his coat on the chair and unscrewed the cap he heard Steven yell from the front of the plane,

  “My senses stir up blood too Jonny boy. You will understand soon.”

  Jon shook his head as he swallowed the whiskey. He turned in his chair and decided to take a short nap before the plane lands. Curling up, using his coat as a make shift pillow, he slowly slipped into a state of unconsciousness.

  Chapter 12

  Jon woke up bouncing on his seat. The plane tires skidded on the tarmac as they slowly came to a stop. He got up pulling on his coat ignoring the captain’s warning to stay in their seats until the plane had come to full stop. Jon didn’t dream anything while he was out. He shuddered at the last thing Steven had said to him about his senses stirring up blood. What did he mean by that?

  Jon got off the plane and saw that Steven was already being escorted to another black van. Jon walked over to a man standing by the van. He was dressed in uniform with a thick brown moustache and blue aviators covering his eyes. He took off the shades extending his hand out, shaking Jon’s as he exclaimed,

  “Constable Phillips. North Bay, Ontario police detachment, Ontario Provincial Police (OPP). I was the one working on the cold case, missing person report of Emily Clark. I understand I was told to accompany you Detective Cratick with the suspect in custody.”

  Jon nodded as he said,

  “Great. I warn you, Steven is a handful. Just keep your wits around him. Don’t ever let your guard down around him. He is considered extremely dangerous.”

  Constable Philips nodded to Jon as he watched the other officers escort Steven into the van. He said,

  “Yeah, we’ve dealt with crazies before.”

  He saw the grin come across Steven’s face. Steven turned his head slightly to the officer as he was being pushed towards the van and said,

  “Constable Philips meet Detective Cratick, or should I say Profiler Jonathon Cratick. He came all the way here from the FBI, Crime Scene Investigations. Or what you refer to as CSI. Don’t worry Phillips, he’s just here to help clean up the mess to what you dumb OPP pigs couldn’t.”

  Constable Phillips shook his head as he grinned,

  “Keep talking shit bird. You’re the one in cuffs.”

  Steven grinned as his head was pushed down into the van. He looked back up at the OPP officer as the door was being closed, giving him a wink and said,

  “Only because I want to be Phillips.”
r />   Jon shook his head as he got in the front of the van and said,

  “I told you, he’s a handful.”

  They drove outside of the small town to a house at the edge of the forest. Coming up on a hill there was a long driveway. A small house sat at the top that was horribly run down. The paint was falling off the white trim, the shingles were worn and blackened. A plastic tarp that was torn, was flapping in the wind that covered a broken window. There was a rusty swing set once painted white, but now rusted brown in decay in the tall yellow grass in the backyard. A rotten grey porch, wrapped around the old beaten shack shanty of a house. Steven let out a low exhaled aw as they stopped in the driveway. He looked off into the woods with a faraway look as he droned,

  “We’re here.”

  Jon looked around and saw a torn up shack off by the woods that Steven Willis was staring at. He looked back at Steven and said,

  “Is this home Steven? Is this it?”

  Steven broke his trance and sneered,

  “This was never my home.”

  Jon shrugged his shoulders and got out of the van. The other officers all piled out, dragging Steven along with them. They checked his restraints and then nodded looking back at Detective Cratick and said,

  “He’s secure.”

  They made their way to the edge of the property. Steven kept looking back at the shed with a grin across his face. Jon was about to turn towards it when Steven piped up and said,

  “Into the woods, this way.”

  Jon turned his gaze from the shed, and then followed Steven with the officers into the forest. Steven walked down the path, shuffling with one foot in front of the other. His hands still bound in handcuffs out in front of him. The chains clanking together as they walked down the dirt road. There was a little bit of sunlight, peeking in through the tree tops of the thick underwood brush. The light flooding onto the forest ground, revealing all of the different shades of greens and browns. Jon walked along side Steven who was quiet, watching him look around the forest in wonderment. His eyes were filled with a lust that disgusted Jon, because he knew Steven wasn’t admiring the beauty of the forest. He was reliving something much more dark and sadistic in his twisted mind. Steven grinned looking back up at Jon and as he whispered to him,

  “Do you smell it Jon?”

  Jon shook his head in distaste looking forward as he said,

  “Smell what Steven?”

  Steven smiled as he stopped looking to his right at a grassy knoll. It was filled with lupines and ferns. He hushed a faint whisper, that escaped his lips with an exhale saying,

  “The smell of death and rebirth.”

  Jon looked at the over grown foliage of, lupines, shrubs and ferns as he held up his fist to the other officers. Everyone stopped walking and looked into Steven’s direction he was gazing at. Steven walked out of the path and sauntered into the green patch. Smiling a sadistic smile he said,

  “This used to be a clearing when I was young. Now it has grown just like I have.”

  Jon walked over and stared down at Steven’s feet. He asked,

  “Is this where you buried her Steven?”

  Steven nodded looking up at the sun through the tree tops. A gentle breeze came through the forest, rustling the leaves in a faint calming sound. Jon watched as Steven got onto his knees. With his hands still bound in the handcuffs he reached down and started scooping up soil. Jon placed his hand on Steven’s shoulder and said,

  “We can take it from here Steven.”

  Steven ignored Jon as he kept digging replying,

  “It’s not far, trust me, it’s not far.”

  Jon grabbed Steven by the shoulder, grasping it hard as he clenched down and said,

  “I said we will take it from here!”

  Steven roared as he wrenched his body into Jon’s knee causing him to topple over. Jon hit the ground hard as he looked up seeing Steven continuously digging. Steven kept repeating,

  “It’s not far, it’s not far, just a little further, just a little further.”

  Jon shook his head in disbelief. Steven was referring to Emily Clark as it, not her. He didn’t look at her as a person, but as a thing. A thing he had buried out here in the woods so long ago. Like a rabid dog, frantically digging for its buried bone, Steven kept clawing into the ground as the officers clambered on top of him. Ripping him up off the ground back to his feet, one of them took out their night stick and struck him hard into the abdomen, forcing Steven back down to his knees. A long piece of drool came dripping out of Steven Willis as he winced in pain from the officer’s blow. He took the dirt in his hand and quickly smashed it into his eager mouth, tilting his head back as he sucked. Jon got up and ran over to Steven grasping him by the jaw. Steven locked eyes onto Jon’s as Jon said,

  “Spit it out!”

  Steven let out a gurgle as Jon’s hand gripped tighter around the psychopaths jaw. He then quickly used his left hand and clenched his fingers around Steven’s throat. Constable Phillips yelled out,

  “What are you doing Detective Cratick? Whore cares if the sick piece of shit wants to choke on dirt?”

  Jon still grasping Steven, clenched even tighter looking directly down into Steven’s eyes, who was now on his knees looking back up at him. His black pupils dilated, bulging and enraged; trying to breath as his mouth gurgled in brown bubbles of muddy spit. Jon grimaced as he gripped even tighter around Steven’s throat as he murmured back to the officer saying,

  “It’s not just dirt.”

  Steven finally gasped as he hawked a hard object out onto the ground. Jon let go of Steven as the psychopath fell onto the forest floor, choking, gasping for air and laughing at the same time. Constable Phillips walked over kneeling down at the object which was white, covered in spit. He leaned in closer and said with disgust,

  “Oh god.”

  Jon nodded as he snapped on gloves and scooped it up saying,

  “Yeah, he was trying to ingest a piece of her bone.”

  Steven was still laughing in hysterics, rolling around on the ground. Jon rolled his eyes as placed the piece of human fragment into a plastic bag and said,

  “Steven told me he had smashed up Emily Clark’s bones and scattered her remains in behind his childhood house. His story checks out. Get this whole place cornered off and start digging.”

  Jon looked over at Steven who was still laughing and said,

  “And get him out of here!”

  After little digging, piece by piece of Emily Clark’s body was discovered. Just like Steven had said, he had smashed her bones up into tiny little fragments and scattered her remains over the forest floor. With a shifter and some meticulous work, she was slowly coming back together again. Her skull fragments were almost complete as well as most of her bone structure. Jon looked at Steven in amazement as he approached him and asked,

  “Steven…did you or Shawn do this?”

  Steven looked up at Jon and said,

  “I told you, I did it.”

  Jon nodded and replied,

  “So you are saying you, Steven Willis murdered Emily Clark and scattered her remains. Shawn Campbell had nothing to do with this?”

  Steven wrenched his head up towards Jon who was now towering over him. Steven looked up and said,

  “I told you, it was just me. It was only me.”

  Jon shrugged his shoulders and said,

  “Fine, but you know what I am going to check out next. Don’t you Steven?”

  Jon started walking back towards the edge of the property towards the back yard. Steven followed in pursuit behind him with officers still clutching onto his chains. Steven yelled out,

  “You don’t want to go in there Jonny Boy! Leave it alone! Jonny Boy!”

  Jon made his way to the torn down shed and placed his hand on the broken door. Steven Willis winced and in a childlike voice he whimpered almost in fear saying,

  “Careful.”

  Jon stopped and looked back at Steven. He pointed at the shack and said,


  “This is where you kept the animals isn’t it?”

  Steven nodded staring into the darkness of the shed. His nightmares came flooding back of all the road kill, hanging on meat hooks, swaying back and forth with the chains dangling from the rafters of the shed. Jon looked down at one of the rotten floor boards and started yanking on them. He looked back at Steven Willis who was now smiling and said,

  “Like I said, careful detective. My senses stir up blood too Jonny boy. Trust me you will remember the iron taste as it swirls in your nostrils and drips on your tongue with the sweetened smell of summer.”

  Jon shook his head, rolling his eyes as he started prying against the rotten boards of the shed floor. One by one he ripped them apart and then covered his mouth form the putrid smell of rancid decay as it hit his nostrils. He stumbled back still covering his mouth and started dry heaving. The OPP officer went running up and said,

  “What, what is it? Oh dear god.”

  Steven was laughing to himself as the other officers approached the shed. Inside, scattered around in a circle were dozens of animal skeletons. In the middle of the decrepit morbid circle of death, was a human skull, sitting on top of a pile of bones. There was some very old, dried up lupines sitting beside the remains like a shrine. Jon gasped as he turned to Steven Willis and said,

  “That’s your father…..isn’t it Steven?

  Steven laughed as his eyes turned black and said,

  “Poor, poor Jonny boy. So close. Oh so close. I bet you can still taste the smell of blood in the flowers.”

  Jon heaved as a realization hit him all at once. Remembering the family from the string of murders from fifteen years ago, the photos sprawled on his apartment floor. All the nights staring into them. He turned his head towards Steven and said,

  “It was you…..Shawn Campbell…..the Campbell family….you killed them and took their name!”

  Steven smiled as he shuffled his way closer to Jon. He smiled and said,