Psycho Candy

by Steven Hunter

  The three cautiously approached the gate, which swung open with a creak. Nobody knew why they were on edge. This was only a witness they were going to see.

  Malone turned to the officers. "Am I the only one who feels like pulling his gun right now?"

  The other officers shook their heads.

  Malone knocked on the door, his hand firmly on his six shot revolver inside his jacket.

  Just in case, just in case.

  The woman that answered the door was seventy if she was a day.

  She smiled kindly. "You must be the police men who were due to see me. Please come in. You too miss. Sorry, didn't mean anything by calling you all men. It's good to see woman getting the same breaks as the men folk."

  Siuna herself smiled at this, yet her sense of unease did not depart her.

  The old woman indicated a teapot set upon a tray with four cups and a jug of milk. Sugar sat as lumps in a porcelain bowl.

  Malone nodded and the others followed, just as Malone's police radio burst into life.

  "Radio one niner- Detective Malone do you copy?"

  "I copy. What appears to be the disturbance?"

  "Massive homicide over on the East Side. Chief wants you there, a-sap."

  Malone sighed then looked at his two detectives. "You think you can handle this alone?"

  The detectives nodded and Malone nodded in return. "File a report and have it on my desk by Monday at the latest, okay? In fact call in with any news in around three hours. If you don't get me the first time keep trying," Malone turned to the old lady and smiled. "Sorry to leave so early Mam. Duty calls."

  "I'll leave you to make your own way out."

  Malone nodded politely, and headed for the front door.

  Closing it behind him he shuddered and felt an unexplainable gladness to be headed across town, despite the massive homicide.

  Inside the house the officers turned back to the old woman.

  Dale asked the first question. "So where did you first see the woman... eh... Cassandra Dell?"

  "When I was fucking her on her bed."

  "Excuse me?"

  “I said when I was fucking her on her bed.”

  The two police officers watched in horrified fascination as the old woman began to claw frantically at clothes, leaving herself naked, then repeated the same course of action with her skin.

  Neither officer felt the ability to do anything but watch as the old woman literally tore herself apart, leaving strips of bloody skin in her wake. Finally, there sat Mephinie, naked, with a hungry look in her eyes.

  Siuna drew her gun; however Dale just sat mesmerised by the slender elegant body before him and the beauty of this woman's face. As he gazed at the cuts on the woman's face he unconsciously found himself falling deeper into a trance.

  He smiled up at Mephinie. "Some nasty cuts you got there. Maybe we should take you to a hospital."

  Siuna was scared, nearly on the verge of tears. What the hell was happening here? Who was this woman and what the hell had happened to Dale?

  She tried to take control of the situation. "Okay, on your knees, NOW! Or I swear to GOD that I will pump all six rounds of this revolver into you!"

  Mephinie laughed. “What do you think Dale? Shall we let the little lady play with her toy? Should we see what happens to children who are bad?”

  Siuna felt her fear intensify. She knew if she tensed up she wouldn't get off a single shot. Dale had gone loopy. It was up to her. Sweat ran down her forehead and she brushed at her brow self consciously before it landed in her eyes.

  She decided to make one final warning. "Mam. I am about to shoot you with this gun if you do not do what you are told. Now get the hell on the floor on your knees. In fact lie on the floor with your hands parted.”

  “As you wish,” Mephinie stood slowly and casually as if she held no care in the world, which was in itself true, and lay spread-eagled on the carpet.

  "Now put your hands behind you back so I can cuff you."

  Mephinie laughed but did what she was told.

  Siuna leaned over cautiously never once taking her hand away from the gun which was pointed at the Goddess's head. She clicked one cuff into place and now the other. With that done she took a look at Dale. He sat staring at the naked body as if he too had no care in the world. To Siuna it was a clear case of the lights being on but nobody being home.

  "Dale, you okay? What you thinking there?" Siuna asked her partner.

  "LIVING DEAD LIVING DEAD LIVING DEAD SEXUAL DEATH SEXUAL DEATH SEXUAL DEATH SEXUAL DEATH. . ."

  Siuna could not for the life of her make out what the hell he meant by that but she wanted him to stop, for it to all stop and she had the sudden urge to bring the gun heavily down upon Dale's head and MAKE IT ALL STOP when thick steel was placed around her neck and she struggled to breathe and she was soon on her knees and Mephinie was laughing.

  Finally the pressure was released and gasping for breath, Siuna turned to face Mephinie who snapped the handcuffs in half then peeled the cuffs off each wrist. Dale sat watching, a blank expression on his face. Siuna looked around for the gun she had dropped in the struggle. It was less than a foot away. She bent to pick it up, and then felt a sharp pain at the base of her skull as Mephinie lashed out with the bare foot of her left leg.

  The force of the kick smashed the police woman's face into the marble fireplace, rendering her unconscious.

  Mephinie focused her attention back on Dale. “Do you find me attractive, Dale?”

  The police man nodded.

  “I think we should do something about that, don't you?”

  Dale nodded again. Inside his head a very small part of him still remained under his own power and he was trying to will the rest of his body to get the hell out of there, but it seemed that the Dale that remembered Dale was very much in the minority.

  “Why don't you close your eyes and let me take care of you?”

  Dale's body obediently closed its eyes.

  So the little bit of Dale that remained never saw Mephinie walk through to the kitchen or return with the knife, and the first he knew anything about it was when she stuck it in the side of Dale's head where it passed through skull and brain to come out the other side.

  Dale slumped back on the chair, a grin on his face.

  Mephinie crossed the room to the unconscious Siuna. She bent down and gently cradled the police woman in her arms, and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom. After throwing Siuna to the bed, she began undressing her.

  Then she closed her eyes and summoned her ablath which appeared neatly in her hand.

  Mephinie sat waiting for Siuna to awake.

  Mephinie paced the city streets alone.

  She had enjoyed her evening and fancied a stroll, maybe a drink of some hard liquor. She quite appreciated some of the human tastes. The fun she had had with Siuna; she would be in her dimension now, born into it as a subordinate woman, but still with the rights of expression and free speech, and the entirety of the afterlife to better her position in the dimension of Azarathrazar. Her world was a liberal one after all.

  A little over an hour previously, she had stripped the policewoman then taken Dale's handcuffs and shackled Siuna to the bed. Then she had stuck the gun up Siuna's cunt. This had done the trick of rousing Siuna from her involuntary comatose state. Siuna had screamed straight off the bat at the sight of Mephinie. Then she had turned her head as far as she could, towards the feeling of cold metal between her legs.

  “Would you like me to pull the trigger?” Mephinie had asked.

  "Oh God . . .Oh holy God what the fuck why me what is this I don't deserve this It's not me you want for Christ's sake I'm only a fucking cop WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE TO YOU..." Siuna's words ran together in a stream of consciousness, unbroken by the mind's usual need to make sense of its filtered thoughts.

  “Would you like me to pull the trigger? It is a simple question. Without direction I shall assume this is what you want to happen.”

&n
bsp; "No, no don't pull the trigger. Please... just get it the hell out of me!"

  “Of course. How rude of me. I thought it may have turned you on getting fucked by a bullet but I'll never understand the human mind. Still, you shall be reborn, for you are near my kind in form and I shall make you like me in spirit. Do you think under the circumstances this may be permitted?”

  "What are my options?" Siuna tried to get her police training in mind, to relax, negotiate, keep calm at the demon hovering over the bed with the...

  "What the fuck is THAT?"

  “This is the ablath. Tell me do you find me attractive?”

  "Yes, I think you're beautiful. Is that what you want? For me to be attracted to you?"

  “It would be nice but will matter little. You will enjoy this. But perhaps you need some kind of blindfold. It will take away your anxieties and leave you to concentrate on the pleasure.”

  Mephinie pulled a silken scarf out of thin air and wrapped it around Siuna's eyes. The policewoman wrestled and fought the best she could but her hands were strapped to the bed with heavy steel and there was little she could do but accept her fate.

  "What are you going to do with me?" the policewoman asked meekly.

  “It all starts with a kiss.”

  Now Mephinie walked the city, heading for a bar she knew.

  She would shield her cuts with her mind, place a slide over the logic of whomever she met. They would not believe what their minds could not accept. She entered the bar and there he stood. The Native American. John. Yes, she remembered his name. How could she forget?

  He was drinking whiskey and he stopped his hand in mid air, a gesture of indecisiveness.

  She knew he was aware, yet he let go of the pause button and took a large swallow of the fiery liquid. She took her place at the bar beside him. Neither made eye contact.

  “You buy a lady a drink?”

  "That depends. The lady want a drink or the lady come to fight?"

  “No fighting tonight old man. I just want to relax, take some time out of the darker realms.”

  "Then what will it be?"

  “You see the first six bottles on the top shelf? I'll have a shot of each of them in a single glass each.”

  "Then you're gonna have to lend me some money, cause I'm down to my last ten bucks."

  Mephinie sighed. “You really know how to show a lady a good time.”

  "The good times come after, when John stick it in you. Come on Meph. You must owe me something from over the years. Remember the time you wanted to know what childbirth was like, then somehow fell pregnant to a woman and your daughter nearly died? Old John remembers because it was him who brought her back to life. She still living by the way?"

  “Yes, thank you for asking. Okay, I guess I owe you. I had always meant to say thank you but you disappeared and no-one had heard from you.”

  "You know I didn't do it for no money, Meph. I did it because that child was in pain and so was her mother and there ain't nothing worse. But, I am broke and you're never short of a few bucks, so-"

  Mephinie, or Meph to John, reached into the inside of her leather jacket, which she wore over a tight pink t-shirt and faded denims, and withdrew a large wad of notes. She counted off twenty, all hundred dollar bills.

  “I trust this will suffice.”

  John signalled the barman for every shot on the top row and a bottle of bourbon, flashing a hundred dollar bill as he did so. The barman sprung to life. A couple of hours later and John was drunk. So was Mephinie, although she as a Goddess could sober up in moments at will.

  "I never understand why you joined with those others, the rest of the Rubiconeteka. You were never evil, not in the way they are. You just have a difficult nature. Violence is in your blood and so be it. But you also show kindness and compassion and that's rare in any kind that is not human. Can I ask you a question? Do you feel love?"

  “What do you think me? A monster. Of course I feel love. A love you could not understand. And what of you? Do you feel love?”

  "I'm not sure if I want to any more. It's already broken my heart. I worry if I felt it like that again it would shatter it beyond repair."

  “Or maybe it would heal it? Do you want to come to a place with me tonight, John? I have never been with a man in my life and would like to know the experience.”

  "It's a mighty compliment but you're drunk. Take a moment to sober up and ask me then."

  Mephinie did as she was asked.

  She laughed out loud. “Thank you for saving me there John. No offence but nothing with a dick gets near my pussy.”

  "So where to now?"

  “Now I am going to walk the stars and the space in between and I am going to contemplate in silence. Then I shall return to my world and sleep for six days. On the seventh I must present before the council of the Rubiconeteka. I shall need as much rest as possible to withstand their presence.”

  "You could always get out you know. You could-"

  John was cut short by a wave of Mephinie's hand. “I am a killer, John. That is what I am. The world is a lonely enough place without someone to relate to, to belong to something. Be seeing you around. Still there is a feeling I get from you today John, that has not been there before.”

  "With this much history a person begins to collect feelings. Not all of them nice. To be honest Meph, as nice as it was seeing you, old John would rather be alone for the rest of the night. He got some serious thinking to do.”

  “Another time then.”

  "You can count on it."

  John watched her walk through the table and disappear.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  OFFICERS DOWN

  The scene which Detective Malone walked into left no doubt that the person who had done this was no old lady. Fuck no.

  And he had a horrible suspicion that the murders of all those years ago were going to start up again. Except he fully believed Candy guilty of those and if that was the case then what the fuck did it all mean?

  In the living area sat Dale. Malone stared straight on at the serrated knife end that protruded from the middle of Dale's head. The speed and force that the blade had been shoved through skin, skull and brain, according to the forensic ballistic expert, was comparable to having it inserted by a train moving at over one hundred miles an hour. Apart from that Dale had been pretty much ignored, a neat, if mystifying death.

  It was the bedroom which had nearly had him spewing his spaghetti and meatball lunch.

  Officer McKenzie was laid spread eagled on the bed. Hew whole body had been gutted from her vagina right through her intestines up to the breasts. Her heart sat clasped tightly in her left hand. No, not clasped; gripped. There was a hole in her forehead which still continued to bleed; despite everything the medical team on site had tried to stop it. Her eyes had been gouged and her lips had been chewed off and there were signs that at some point she had ejaculated – well, he wasn't sure how to put it but he supposed lady cum would suffice.

  It appeared she had done this a lot. The bed was soaked with the stuff, along with enough blood, that it puddled together on the duvet when the material had been unable to absorb any more. Forensics had done a good job of separating the two substances.

  He had called in the other unit who had been sent to the other address and had no reply as of yet. He had sent two more squad cars to the property only minutes earlier and now he was about to hit that particular property himself. He had not the slightest idea what the hell was going on here. Some kind of satanic cult? Maybe that crazy bitch cop killer had something to do with it? And the disappearance of the Cassandra woman? He could not for the life of him place her last name.

  But one thing was decided.

  He would get to the bottom of this, even if it killed him.

  The squad car had pulled up outside the address of the second witness. A weather beaten sign nailed to the concrete said they were on James Street. They searched for the house number control had given them, building number 13 fl
at 5. It was all apartments on this street, not a one level in sight and they trawled close to the kerb looking for number fifteen. They passed 36 then 34 and guessed they were on the right track but wrong side of the road. Eventually they saw it. Number thirteen; a black door, the digits to mark it painted on in scrawling red.

  Both officers involved in this follow up were male. The first out the car was a newbie to the job at age twenty one. His name was Jimmy and although eager to move up the ranks, he had yet to fire his pistol in action. The second was an old timer. He was nearing fifty seven and would soon no doubt be forced into early retirement, which suited him fine. A pay off bundle and off he and his wife would go to Florida and start their business of selling fine art. His wife had quite a collection and figured she would make around $200,000 on only the first five pieces.

  There were thirty three in her collection in total and their sale, along with the police retirement package, meant that the old timer, known as Jackson, was counting on a comfortable retirement.

  They stepped out the vehicle and looked for buzzer five but where the intercom had been there was now only a space with protruding wires. They tried the door and it wouldn't give. To add to their confusion, both numbers 1 and 3 looked as if they had been freshly painted. Jimmy dabbed at the glistening red and pulled his hand away in horrified wonder at the unmistakable stickiness of blood.

  “Think we'll need our guns on this one old timer,” holding his bloodstained finger up to Jackson for inspection.

  "Here Jimmy," said Jackson. "Give it a shove. This is a serious case here and we gotta get in that building, see."

  Jimmy did see, and he took a few steps back and took a running start and knocked the door ajar in one go. The hallway inside was in darkness. Both officers pulled out their torches and pointed their beams around the stairwell. The circle splotches of light which lit up the interior revealed a rundown staircase. It appeared the only way was up. The both started to climb the stairs, counting their way to number thirteen. It was tiring work for Jackson but Jimmy found it no bother. He worked out every other day and this was child's play to him.