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An Angel of A Different Order: Dr Peter VonNetzer, the bloodletter (Danger Angel Book 1)

Page 27

by S. R. Rashad


  Chapter 28

  There is an Art. There is a madness.

  “Let's begin.”

  These are the words she hears as she awakes, head pounding, foggy, bound, gagged, chained, constricted. Her body spread eagle, imprisoned on top of an old butcher block table. The scent of dried blood coming from the old butcher’s table, where livestock had been slaughtered in recent history, still lingers. This aroma is still a far second to the powerful dank mildew smell that encompasses this damp, drafty old basement, in this century old country cottage, in the middle of the woods, Peter’s new home.

  “I'm dr. Peter VonNetzer and you're my guest. Unfortunately, what happens here won't be pleasant…” he pauses, looks over to his tools, then finishes his sentence. “… well…for you. And it will result in your death.” Peter says this wanting to experience her fear and feel his joy.

  Her head is still groggy. In this fog like state, everything seems distant, a dream and the dread of the moment doesn't quite hit her.

  Peter can see she is still hazy. He needs her sober. He commands her full attention.

  And he intends to get it. He reaches for a meat hook, hanging on the wall next to her, amid the varied choices of weaponry. Watching her watch him, he slams the point of the hook into her hand. She makes a muffled scream, and the pain, the fear, and the bleeding begin in earnest.

  “Yes…yes, you are aware now!.” He says with delight.

  Her pain and suffering is magnificent.

  “You and I are gonna have a time.” He says as a hint of a smile appears on his face, while tears roll down hers.

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  He wipes her blood from the tip of the hook with his handkerchief, places the handkerchief to his nose, and inhales deeply. Then he puts it in his pocket. All the while, her gaze follows him. His every movement watched by her fearful eyes. He’s in bliss. He returns the hook, the instrument of her painful, sobering reality, to the rack.

  “Not yet.”

  He turns, cuts off the lights and leaves the room, satisfied, for now.

  Peter will take his time, on this one. This new home away from home has the makings of something special. He is pleased with what his sister arranged for him. His every need anticipated. The seclusion, the privacy, the instruments, well thought out, the large room in the basement of the cottage house, in the deep wooded area of the sprawling 50 acre plot that houses Nancy’s estate, (Inn/café/gas station, two private family homes, small horse ranch, and tree lined lake and boat house.) has all the earmarks of something frightfully exceptional.

  On the drive back home, having seen what can only be described as his lair, Laura knows he is no man of the law, let alone anything remotely close to being an FBI agent. But what has her most on edge, is the knowledge that this man who she looks to for help to protect her friend, is the same man who shot her weeks ago, nearly killing her. Laura needs to come to terms with that reality and the realization that she needs to keep Peter away from her friend, her Bambi, but if she can’t rely on him, then what.

  As they approach Laura’s home, both unaware of the fate that befell Jen, Laura still wants assurances. She needs something ironclad.

  “What do we do, now? How should I proceed? Where will you be if she needs you?

  “Now, we wait. Continue as you normally would, Laura. I'll be near.”

  “She means a lot to me.”

  “I can see that.”

  Juan sees Laura getting out of the car and runs over to greet her with strange news.

  “Hey, ms. Danger.”

  Laura sees Juan is visibly agitated.

  “Juan everything alright?

  “Well, that’s just it, ms. Danger. I don’t know. Jen asked me if me or Sergio could get some dog food for her but then a tenant found this on the elevator…” Juan shows her a bag of puppy food. “I tried calling your apartment, but got no answer.”

  “You saw her leave?”

  “Yea, she was down here awhile ago and said she needed dog food but she couldn’t leave the apartment till you got back or something like that, and asked me to go but I couldn’t leave the desk at that time…” Juan doesn’t say because he was preoccupied with a soccer game. That information won’t help things. “…And then she left the building but I never saw her come back.”

  “But why do you think the dog food is hers? Maybe someone else left it. She may have gone to the office or to her house to get something.” Laura knows this is a far stretch but she has nothing else to go on. And Jen being in the hands of Dr.VonNetzer is not a thought she even cares to entertain.

  “You might be right ms Danger. She could’ve gone to the office. I just felt that since the FBI was here that something was going on, that’s all. But you could be right, you know.”

  Overhearing parts of the conversation, and seeing that both Juan and Laura seem on edge, he decides to see what the conversation is about.

  “Hey, Laura. Hey Juan. Everything all right?”

  Laura hesitates before responding. She doesn’t want to say anything. She fears he may provide a more realistic and sober prospective; one that she isn’t willing to hear, just yet.

  “Well…we aren’t sure yet. Jen may have gone to the office or something. Juan’s just voicing some concerns, but I’m calling Jen now. She’ll say she had to go to the office I bet.”

  “I see.” He says but a feeling of deep concern overtakes him. As Laura walks off to try Jen’s cell, he motions to Juan.

  “Hey, Juan, tell me what you know.”

  Juan relays the story to him exactly as he did to Laura just minutes ago but he has a different reaction. His instincts say the doctor was here and that Jen is gone.

  “Juan, is there another entrance?”

  “Yea, sure. There are two others. There’s the side entrance that is for maintenance and package deliveries but the tenants don’t use it. Only the building’s employees have keys or the front desk has to buzz you in, but the garage entrance is for everybody.”

  “So, do people use the garage entrance?”

  “Yea, all the time.”

  “Ok, maybe she came in through there.”

  “Yea, maybe… because someone left that dog food on the elevator.” Juan says agreeing with him.

  Laura comes back after several failed attempts at trying to reach Jen’s cell and sees the two men trying to arrive at what happened exactly.

  As Laura approaches, he doesn’t even bother to ask her whether or not she got ahold of Jen. He knows the answer to that question.

  “Laura, Juan and I are going to the surveillance room. Come with us.”

  Laura doesn’t say anything, just follows them. She is afraid of what they might find.

  “Juan, the garage entrance, is there a camera there?”

  “Yea, there is.”

  “what time did you see her last?

  “About two hours ago.”

  “Queue up the monitor for that time. Let’s see what we come up with.”

  The three of them gather around the monitor

  “Juan, what am I looking at?”

  “That’s just outside the entrance to the garage”

  “Ok… there, there that’s her right?”

  Laura and Juan agree the woman they see entering through the garage door, holding a bag of puppy chow, is most certainly Jen.

  "Yes, that's her.” They both say.

  “You guys know what. She's probably upstairs sleeping. Let me go check.”

  He points out the obvious to her.

  “So why was the dog food still on the elevator. Why would she go out of her way to get dog food, only to leave it on the elevator, come on, Laura. You know what happened don't you?”

  Laura is not herself. She is uncharacteristically both hysterical and irrational.

  “No, no I don't know what happened and neither do you. Nothing happened. Let's go upstairs. I’ll show you two. She's asleep. We all got it wrong somehow.” Just then as Laura hears herself, the truth of
the moment hits her. She can't pretend she doesn't know what happened. She's never truly been the kind of person who could fool herself for long.

  “Shit! That fucking bastard!” She yells as she kicks the office chair… “ The crazed maniac took her, shit! Why the hell didn't she just stay put!”

  He’s sorry Jen was taken but he knows this is what it takes to get Laura to do whatever is called for to stop the doctor. She’ll be fully committed to his way, now. Maybe, she’ll even help him kill the doctor. Cause that's what has to happen.

  “Laura, I need you calm. Can you do that?”

  “Why, why the hell should I be calm?”

  “Well, Laura. If you're not calm, your judgement is off and I need your ‘A’ game. Jen needs your ‘A’ game. So calm down and Look, here. This is him on the elevator with her.”

  Laura calms her outward anger as he points out the doctor being his monstrous self, but a well of fury builds up inside her as she watches in horror at the sight of her friend being violently subdued and taken.

  “Can you see that? There's someone else there who is just out of full view of the camera.” He points out.

  “Yes, I see another head there. It looks like a woman but her head is down. It's hard to tell.”

  “Yea, I think you're right, Laura. That’s a woman, but who, and is she helping or is she another victim?” He says as he looks off in thought.

  She is alone in the dark. And from the start of things, she is set to be a human pincushion, a plaything for a killer. She is hurt and beyond scared, afraid, knowing she's gonna die. She wants it to be quick, but her greatest fear is that he wants her to suffer and this thought makes her petrified, just thinking of the hours, days of agony ahead. But she remembers her special gift. Ever since she was a young girl, she's always had magical thinking. She has the ability to see herself in a better place. One could almost describe it as astral projection. The smells, sights and sounds of whatever she imagines become real for her. It encompasses all her thoughts and energy. She thinks of her friends at home. She thinks of her girlfriend who just a few weeks ago, asked if she wanted to get married. She thinks of how understanding she was when she said she had to stay with her friend Laura for awhile, till she healed. She thinks of Laura and their new puppy, and of her friends at the office. She thinks of all the wonderful things in this world, all the beautiful sights and sounds, all the great people she's met. She imagines she is there again with Sara the night she got on her knee at the beach in the Rockaway’s at sunset, took her hand and asked if she would spend the rest of her life with her, and how wonderful it felt. This is where Jen is, and if one were to look beyond the chains, the bindings and gag, one would see a happy, smiling Jennifer Bromley. She is happy and feeling thankful. Now, She is having dinner with Laura the night she returned home from the hospital, safe and sound. She continues. She is a hundred other places. She is surrounded by her closest and most dear friends and family. She is no longer alone. She is no longer his victim. She is no longer there where she is. She is no longer bleeding and tied to a slaughter table in a smelly old basement, facing her imminent destruction. She is free.

  Peter enters the room. She doesn't hear him come in. She is entranced. She doesn't hear him call out to her. Her thoughts are elsewhere.

  He comes over to the table. He leans in close. He looks in her eyes. He doesn't see a hint of fear. She doesn't acknowledge him. She isn't with him. She isn't a part of his madness. She's gone. This infuriates him. He grabs a hammer and a chisel. He puts the chisel to her right index finger and swings the hammer down on the chisel, lopping off her finger in one swift blow.

  She yells as loud as her gagged mouth allows. She’s back. She is in pain. She's in the company of the doctor, again. Her magical thinking defeated by the real and focused anger of a madman and his toys.

  “Where were you a second ago?” He says angrily as he gets closer and looks into her eyes, grabbing her face and squeezing it tightly.

  “You seemed distant, distracted. Don’t you do that. Don't you leave me!”

  How can Peter feel her fear if she won't participate. This is not acceptable to him, not in the least. His dominance must be acknowledge.

  The three have seen enough. They've seen the violent struggle. They've seen an unconscious Jen manhandled and take from the elevator. They've seen an image of the truck Peter used in his abduction, leaving the garage with her in it. Even Juan wants on board. He's ready to color outside the lines as well. Our agent looks at the faces of Juan and Laura, as they witness the horrific events and he sees what he hasn't seen in years, he sees his anger and frustration reflected back at him. His anger gets a new righteous cause. For the first time in years, he doesn't feel alone, alone in his anger, alone in his rage, alone in his pursuit of the monster. He has a family again, a brother and sister in arms.

  "Juan, I need copies of these videos.”

  “Can do. What else?”

  “I need you to continue as you normally would. Call 911 and let them know about the abduction, but I need you to wait two hours. I'll need a little head start. And most important, I wasn't here. Laura wasn't here. No one knows about this other than you. Got it.”

  “Got it.”

  “Good, Juan. Good.”

  “Anything else?”

  “That's it for now.”

  Juan is willing to go the extra mile if he is called on. He grew up in a country where the drug cartels kidnaped and tortured members of his family. He was never able to do anything back then cause he was so young. His parents fled the country with him and his younger brothers and sisters before anything happened to them but this incident awakens an old wound. He's not willing to let this guy have their sweet Jen.

  “Laura, are you with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let's go then. I got a guy who can help. We don't have much time if we’re to help Jen before…” He doesn't finish his sentence. He knows not to mention Jennifer's death at this point. He needs Laura hopeful. She'll be more focused that way.

  “Juan, the puppy. Can you…”

  “No problem, ms Danger. I’ll take him.”

  “Thanks, Juan. Thanks so much.”

  “Laura, let's get going.”

  “Ok.”

  It's time Laura met Richie, the conspiracy theorist.

  They get in his car and make a beeline to Richie’s.

  Chapter 29

  Sister. Mother. Matriarch.

  There are two sets of doorbells in the cottage house, Peter’s little unassuming home in the middle of Nancy's estate, the first apparent, visible to all, the second is hidden under the mail box. Only family knows where it is. When Peter hears that bell, he knows to answer. Her children know to never be frivolous with the bell. They know to never enter the cottage, to never go over uninvited, to never disturb him, unless they are given implicit instructions to do so. It is Sanctum de Sanctorum. It’s their uncle’s private sanctuary.

  The family bell is wrung.

  Both Peter and Jen are startled.

  Peter stops what he is doing.

  “I'll have to get that, but we will continue.” He smiles at Jen, who is deep in her pain now, he turns toward the door, cuts off the lights, and exits the basement, heading up stairs.

  “Hello, Uncle Peter...”

  His nephew stands at the front door still wearing his uniform. Peter only opens the door so wide, sure to obscure his blood covered hands from him. “...Mom wants you to come for dinner.”

  “Oh, I see. Thanks, John. I'll be there shortly.”

  Peter shuts the door, goes upstairs, cleans the blood from his hands, freshens up, and changes into his dinner jacket. He knows his sister likes things a certain way, men in jackets and ladies in dresses. He doesn't care to disappoint, especially when she's been so generous. Family dinners are still sacred to her.

  He takes Laura to a side of the city she wouldn't in her wildest and weirdest dreams ever want to be. They enter The Door before the Door, the caffeine
fueled, cyber crime friendly hang out for the freaks, geeks, hackers, hoodlums and derelicts of Richie’s world of urban pirates, housed in what used to be an old auto shop.

  “What is this place?”

  “It's a café.”

  “Is it? No, this isn't a café.”

  “Ah, yea. You wanna get a coffee while I find out where our guy is.” He says nonchalantly.

  “I don't know if I want to do that.” Laura says as she looks around at what could easily pass for a crack house or a shooting gallery, but with an espresso machine.

  “Sure you do.”

  Laura is still hesitant but the aroma of freshly brewed coffee is overpoweringly enticing and the cups and mugs look clean, at least cleaner than the patrons. So, she gets a coffee as suggested. But she'll be damned if she's gonna sit on those possibly bedbug infested couches. She stands awkwardly at the bar, making sure not to lean on the bar, or stool and avoiding all eye contact with any of these degenerates while he goes looking for Richie.

  Nancy's third child, son number two, the simple, lovable, yet deformed dwarf, the misshaped mistake that caused her husband to leave her and the family not long after his birth, also heads over to his uncle's house but twenty minutes late. He arrives at the cottage just minutes after his uncle has already left. He rings the family bell and waits. No one comes to the door. He walks around the house. He sees the light to the study is still on. Perhaps, his uncle's there. He finds a log, rolls it up to the window, in order to climb on top, to get a better look. He peeks through the window. The study is empty. No one's there. He knows he must've missed his uncle. He climbs down. His diminutive figure is caught in the moonlight, casting a shadow down through the open slit on the mostly boarded up window to the basement. Jen sees his figure. She knows he's too short to be the doctor. So, she tries to get his attention. She yells and shakes the table violently, causing a screwdriver to fall from the rack and onto the hardwood floor. He hears it as it hits the floor and peeks through the slit. He thinks he can see someone lying there but it's much too dark and much too difficult to see through the boards around the window to really tell.

 

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