"Do you think this was a homicide?" One of the firemen who'd recovered the body from the ashes was leaning over
Montgomery's shoulder, peering down at the sizzling corpse. He didn't look so good. Shock had leeched al the color from his face and his pupils were wide as bul et holes. Montgomery was afraid the man would vomit al over him. He wouldn't have blamed him. The smel alone was stomach-churning. The detective moved over just in case.
"I'm pretty sure the fire didn't do this," Detective Montgomery said, turning to his partner and pointing down at one of the corpse's legs, which seemed to have survived the fire relatively intact except for the absence of meat on the thigh where something had cut away at it.
There were long scrapes on the femur where someone had obviously shaved the meat off of it with a sharp blade.
"Are those teeth marks?" the wide-eyed young fireman asked. There were circular bruises on the calf, with indentations that had broken through the skin where something appeared to have bitten down hard. It looked like a human bite mark.
"Yeah. It kinda looks like it, doesn't it? I think this one was dead long before the fire started."
The young fireman began to weave back and forth, like he was going to faint. With his curly red hair, explosion of blotchy freckles, and dimpled cheeks, he looked more like a choirboy than a fireman. His innocence added a surreal quality to the horror they were slowly piecing together.
"It almost smel s sweet, doesn't it? Like barbecued pork," Montgomery said.
Then the fireman did turn and drop to his knees, regurgitating.
"It looks like quite a bit of it is missing. There's hardly any meat on it at al." Even with much of the flesh burnt away it was obvious that something else had been at work on the body. Its chest cavity appeared to have been broken open and gutted. Al of the internal organs were missing and al the flesh had been cut away from the chest and pelvis, making it impossible to identify the sex of the body without an autopsy. Volario held a handkerchief over his nose in a vain attempt to stifle the stench of both the burnt corpse and the young fireman's vomit.
Two more firemen came out of the stil smoldering building, carrying a halfmelted, misshapen, white box: a smal apartment-sized refrigerator.
"Uh… detectives? I think you should see this," one said.
They opened the little refrigerator; it was stuffed with meat that had cooked inside it during the blaze. It took a second for Montgomery to notice what it was that had the two firemen so spooked. Then he saw it.
"It looks like we've found the rest of the corpse," Volario said as he peered inside. Montgomery just stared without saying a word.
"Who-who would do this? I mean… why would someone, why would anyone do something like this?" The fireman looked to be in his midforties, though he obviously spent a lot of time in the gym and could have passed for a much younger man if not for the worry lines in his face. He'd probably seen a lot out here during his many years with the
SFFD, maybe even as many bodies as the detectives had, but this was completely beyond his experience. He looked from one detective to the other, waiting for them to offer some explanation. They stared back at him, equal y perplexed.
Inside the little refrigerator was a liver and kidney, part of what appeared to be a loop of intestines, thick pieces of meat that could have come from the victim's back and thighs… and half of a human face that had been neatly cut away and removed in one piece.
Chapter Twenty-five
The night was completely black except for the occasional headlights from passing cars or the glare of the overhead streetlights tossing eerie shadows across the wal s. Frank's limp body bounced and rol ed beside her as
Alicia lay in the back of the van headed up the California coastline, taking the 101 North toward Tacoma, Washington.
She was thirsty, hungry, and scared. Joe was getting worse. He had come back twice in the last couple of hours to take pieces of flesh from Frank's buttocks, which he greedily stuffed into his mouth without waiting until he was at least in the front seat and out of her sight.
Again she'd watched as he masturbated himself to orgasm while chewing on the thick chunks of human flesh. The little man that he was feasting on ejaculated as wel and Alicia thought she would scream. This was completely insane.
The last time the van stopped Joe crawled back into the van with them again and cut off the wounded little man's remaining testicle, which she assumed he later consumed as wel, though grateful y he'd done so out of her sight. Her fel ow captive had not lost his erection during the entire procedure and Alicia was certain that he would have ejaculated again had he stil had his testes. His screams of pain were horrific, even more so for their similarity to ecstasy.
Frank was stil leaking blood from his many wounds despite Joe's attempt to cauterize the deep cuts with a Bic lighter. The flesh had curdled and blackened and Frank had yel ed his vocal chords raw while Joe held the flame to the masochist's ransacked scrotum. The screams had loosened the tape that Joe had clamped over his mouth and Joe had not replaced it before climbing back into the driver's seat and starting the engine. The slender little man drifted in and out of consciousness, mumbling to himself as they drove along the freeway. Alicia kept reminding herself that eventual y they would have to stop for gas and then she would have her chance to escape, though the restraints stil presented a problem.
The van turned sharply and began to bounce along what was apparently an unpaved road. Alicia was sure that they were on some type of dirt trail. She and Frank accumulated more bumps and bruises as they were tossed around in the back of the van. Frank began to mumble to himself again, delirious with pain. Alicia listened for a moment to his incoherent ramblings. At first it just seemed to be random words thrown out in no discernable order. Then she began to make sense of what he was saying.
"…Cut cleanly and swiftly. Remove from the chest as quickly as
… For the best taste it should stil be beating… when seasoning is added… Bay leaves, three garlic cloves, one whole onion… one beef bul ion cube, cook on a low… twenty minutes…"
Alicia scampered away from him when she realized that he was reciting a recipe; a recipe for a soup made from a human heart. She hummed to herself to drown out the sound of Frank's ranting and tried to keep track of how long they had been driving off-road. When the van final y rol ed to a halt there were no sounds from other cars. No gas pump noises or sounds of pedestrian foot traffic like you would expect to hear at a rest stop. There was only the sound of crickets chirping to their mates in the distance.
Alicia heard the van shut off and the driver's-side door slam. Joe was coming back again.
The van door opened and Joe reached in and scooped Frank up like a sack of dirty laundry. The terrified little man was mumbling about roasted thighs in garlic butter when Joe tossed him over his shoulder and reached a hand out for
Alicia. Alicia wanted to tel Frank to shut up, not to give their captor any ideas. She'd seen that glazed look in Joe's eyes often enough to know that it preceded violence. She looked beyond the big man and saw that they were parked in a dark, heavily wooded area.
The ful moon shone overhead like an omen. A werewolf's moon. There was not another human being in sight. No one to hear them scream.
Alicia shook her head defiantly when
Joe motioned for her to take his hand.
Then she began to cry.
Something in Joe's eyes softened as he watched the terrified woman sobbing in the dark. She was so beautiful.
Something innocent remained untouched within her. Something that her long procession of lovers had not despoiled. Something that even Joe could not corrupt. It humbled him. It was like looking at the face of an angel. He felt like a vicious savage ripping and tearing through the Garden of Eden in pursuit of Eve.
Joe's own face cracked with sorrow and confusion. He withdrew his hand and ran it over his forehead and through his hair. He didn't know exactly what he was about to do, but the monster was roaring and snarling w
ithin him, and he was certain that at least one of his captives would not survive a trip into the woods with him. His eyes darted around as he tried to make up his mind what to do. His eyelids shut and Joe let out a long slow breath, composing himself. When he opened them he looked right into Alicia's watery eyes. The monster was quiet now. Now it was just Joseph Miles, looking at the pain and fear of another human being. He tossed Frank back into the van and slammed the door shut.
Chapter Twenty-six
The van stopped again and Alicia could hear Joe step out of the driver's-side door and shut it behind him. She listened to his shoes crunch the dirt as he walked toward the back of the van. She could stil hear the sounds of traffic and when he opened it she could see that they were parked in the breakdown lane along the freeway. Joe climbed into the van and she and Frank both tried to wriggle away from him. Joe's forehead wrinkled and his eyebrows knitted together. He looked as if it hurt him that they were frightened of him.
"I know how you feel. I didn't realize it
"I know how you feel. I didn't realize it before, but this looks just like the van that Trent stuffed me into when he kidnapped me. Even in midday it was dark back there. I can only imagine what it must be like at night." He could barely look at her. He reached out and removed the gag from Alicia's mouth. "I'm sorry about al this."
"Joe, you have to stop this. You need help. Look at what you've done to this poor man-and that woman. That woman that you… you ate!" Alicia shuddered.
"I'm trying to get help. You have to believe me. If I had a choice I wouldn't be doing any of this but I have this curse, this disease! It's driving me crazy! I just don't know what to do!" His eyes searched hers as if he would find the answers within them.
"So you're just going to give in to it?
You're going to eat him too-and then what about me? Joe, what if there is no miracle cure out there? What if you kil this Damon Trent guy and the hunger doesn't get any less?"
"I can't think about that."
"You need to think about it! You need to learn to fight it or you'l just keep kil ing until they catch you and lock you away or kil you!"
Joe leaned back against one wal of the van, deep in thought. He reached out and stroked Alicia's face.
"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You know that?"
"I don't believe you and I don't think it matters."
Joe reeled back with his eyes wide, visibly stricken by Alicia's harsh words.
"Wel, if you weren't so beautiful I would have eaten you already. Believe that!" Now it was Alicia's turn to recoil. She stared at the huge man with the superhero face and was surprised to see him grin back at her and wink.
Suddenly she began to laugh. The absurdity of a serial kil er who'd just eaten one woman and partial y cannibalized the man she'd been riding with for the last few hours, joking about her own probable murder, was the most ridiculous thing she could imagine. Even as she laughed the tears flowed without relent. Joe reached out and wiped the tears from Alicia's eyes as he continued to stare at her like an object of worship. Alicia smiled back even as fresh tears ran down her face.
"I hope I'm more than just a pretty face to you? That's not enough to sustain a relationship you know. I mean… you hardly know me," she said. Her voice stil shook with fear, but she was trying to remain in control.
"I know that you've been hurt too," Joe said. "I could see it in your eyes from the moment I met you. You're one of the walking wounded just like me. But you've overcome it. You're a fighter. Even in this situation you're holding up pretty wel. That alone tel s me that you've been through a lot of pain in your life."
"Nothing like this," she said.
"Then like what?"
Alicia went silent.
"Tel me." He took her hands in his and raised them to his lips where he kissed them softly. She began to cry harder now. Her body shook with the force of it. Joe gathered her into his arms and held her.
"Tel me."
"I seduced my father and… he-he kil ed himself. He shot himself in the head and it was my fault! I'm a fucking whore just like he said I was! I kil ed my own father!" Joe didn't try to pretend to know what she was feeling now or what had motivated her to have sex with her father. He knew that he could never understand what had made her do such a thing any more than she could understand what made him hunger for human meat.
Instead he continued to hug and rock her in his arms.
"I forgive you," he said as he cradled her against his chest. "I forgive you." Joe cried with her as he held her tight against him.
Women were so beautiful when they were sad. Her tears glistened on her cheeks like a string of diamonds as the moonlight beamed through the windshield onto her face. It broke Joe's heart. He leaned down and kissed her dampened skin, licking the salty tears from her eyelashes.
She pul ed away from him and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked up at her captor expecting to see that homicidal lust she'd come to know al too wel, but instead she saw a shocking paternal tenderness. His eyes reflected her own sadness back at her as if her pain had wounded him. It was a depth of compassion she would have never expected in such a beautiful monster.
"I forgive you too," she said and surprised herself by meaning it. She knew what Stockholm syndrome was.
She'd heard of victims who'd begun to identify with their kidnappers, even fal ing in love with them, and knew that this was exactly what she was doing, but she didn't care. She was fal ing in love with a cannibal, a kidnapper, and a kil er and it was the most loved she'd ever felt. Whether the look in his eyes was love, lust, or just hunger, no one had ever looked at her that way before, with such passion and desire. No one had ever needed her like that. She leaned forward and kissed him and once again they made love as Frank lay in the back of the van moaning in agony.
"I'l try to fight it. I'l try for you," Joe whispered in Alicia's ear as he lay atop her, inside her, with his erection slowly diminishing after their combined orgasm. He crawled back up into the front seat and drove off without putting her gag back on, though he did handcuff her again.
They talked al the way to Seattle as if they were little more than a couple out for a drive in the country.
"Do you stil think this is just some kind of disease you have? You stil think that you can cure yourself by kil ing this guy?"
"I'm actual y getting more and more convinced by the moment."
He pointed up at the sky, at the big luminescent face of the ful moon hovering just at the end of the road.
"Ever since that moon rose, the hunger has been almost unbearable, just like the werewolf legends. I can feel changes inside me. My canines seem to be getting sharper and longer."
He looked up into the rearview mirror and bared his teeth. Alicia looked at his teeth in the reflection and shrugged her shoulders.
"You may not notice it, but I can feel them growing. "
He turned to her and stuck out his tongue. There was a smal red gash on the tip.
"I cut my tongue on my own teeth. They don't fit the same in my mouth as they did just last night. And look at my jaw. It's like the muscles are getting bigger, stronger. I feel like I could crush bones with my mouth now. Like soon I won't even need a knife. I'l be able to rip a person apart with my teeth alone."
"You're starting to scare me again, Joe."
"Nothing's changed between us. I promise not to hurt you again."
"But what about him? Are you going to kil him?"
"I don't know if I can stop myself. It's a long drive to Seattle and I don't even have the desire for regular food anymore. I can smel his blood. It's so rich. I wish you could experience it the way I do. The taste. The smel. It's like I can experience his entire life through his flesh. I can absorb it al. Al his joys and agonies, his passions and sorrows. It's al there in that smel. It's maddening. I feel like I can smel his thoughts. You know, when I ate that librarian, it was like I absorbed her. Like she became a part of me. Everything she was assimila
ted with my flesh. I can stil feel her inside, in my blood. That's how I know that kil ing Damon Trent wil cure me."
"Why? I don't understand."
"Because I know that he can feel me inside of him too. Because I can stil feel him inside of me."
Frank stirred in the back of the van. He was regaining consciousness again.
"Eating Frank is different," Joe said, glancing back at him. Half of the man's buttocks were gone, as were most of his genitalia. The rest of him was mostly skin and bones and hard muscle. None of the tender meat that Joe hungered for. There wasn't a whole lot on him left to eat. He looked back over at Alicia and tried not to think about how wonderful she would taste.
"There's no fear in him. I mean, his fear is different, more sensual. He enjoys it. He can feel the communion, us joining together as one. He wants it. I can feel it. He wants to become a part of me. I wish you could feel it too. The way he does. I wish you could see how beautiful it could be." His eyes crawled over Alicia's voluptuous hips and thighs and lingered on her big heavy breasts. The monster stiffened in his pants and Joe's eyes glazed over, sparkling with hunger as his jaw creaked open and he instinctively licked the tips of his canines before dragging his tongue across his lips.
Alicia shuddered and turned away from his ravenous gaze.
"Joe, when you talk like that it doesn't sound like you want to be cured."
Chapter Twenty-seven
Damon Trent stared out the barred window and tried to tune out the pandemonium of the other patients as they fought over the TV remote. The television flipped back and forth between Tyra Banks and Sesame
Street. He tried to quiet the cacophony in his mind as his own lusts spoke to him, seducing him with images of blood and flesh. Damon's mind swirled as the cocktail of antipsychotics and antidepressents in his bloodstream mired his thoughts. He could barely feel the lives he'd consumed over the narcotics. Their whispering echoes were indecipherable to him now. They had faded like yel owed photographs worn away by time. He barely noticed them anymore and with the drugs he could no longer feel their warmth.
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