Greek Island Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-2-3): Gripping, psychological mystery/thrillers destined to shock you!

by Luke Christodoulou

  She nodded, much to his delight. Panayioti approached with a plate in hand. His mischievous grin and the video camera in hand worried her. These sadists had something in mind.

  Andrea opened his zipper and with his right hand he pulled out his penis. He then picked up a piece of bacon and placed it on it. ‘Best spoon you’ll ever have,’ he chuckled. Agatha turned away, only to be grabbed again by the hair. With his other hand, Andrea grabbed her pearl earring and ripped it out of her flesh; his face revealing his delight upon hearing her screams.

  ‘I told you to behave,’ he said. ‘Now, eat!’

  Agatha reluctantly obeyed. Bread and eggs, followed; fed in the same manner.

  ‘Panayioti, stop jerking off. The whole scene will be shaky,’ Andrea shouted to his camera-holding brother. Panayioti giggled and pulled up his pants.

  Agatha swallowed down the last piece of bread.

  ‘Thirsty?’ Andrea asked with fake kindness as he stood up and started to urinate over her face. Panayioti laughed out hysterically.

  ‘What the…? Boy, you better wash her up and have her ready for us or you’re the one going to get a beating,’ the heavy voice came from up the stairs.

  ‘Don’t worry, uncle. We’ll wash her right away.’

  ‘Good,’ he said and walked back up.

  Andrea untied her arms. Red bruises travelled around her arms caused by the thick rope. Panayioti turned off the camera and helped his brother to pick her up. They threw her to the corner where another pail of icy water awaited her. A brown sponge floated in it.

  ‘Wash yourself, you filthy woman. And especially your lady parts. Now!’ Andrea ordered and threw her a bar of soap. Agatha trembled the entire time, yet resisted speaking. She knew it would only make matters worse. She took the soap and dipped it in the water. The bar of soap felt good as it journeyed upon her red, bruised skin.

  ‘Quicker,’ Andrea barked, like the animal he was.

  Sobbing and numb, she picked up the sponge. Andrea grabbed her hand and guided it between her legs.

  ‘Like this,’ he said and scrubbed hard.

  His tough, large hands were scrubbing her back when the rest of the pack came down. His long face with the small evil eyes, watching her the entire time she washed. So much hatred gathered and she had no clue why.

  As she stared upon her captors in disgust, a terrifying thought spawned in her mind’s darkest corners. They were surely going to kill her. She had seen their faces, heard their names; she knew everything about Achilles. Uncontrollable crying came over her and she fell to the ground on all fours.

  ‘What a way to start today’s fun,’ Achilles said. ‘She was always a whiner. Spoilt little brat.’

  ‘Get up, you ungrateful bitch. And stop your crying or so help me God, I will hurt you more,’ Panteli spat out, his tiny lips moving angrily, hidden in his thick white mustache. He moved towards her and snatched her by her wet, tangled hair, lifting her up.

  ‘There is no God,’ she screamed and spat in his face. Panteli stopped moving for a second. He lifted his right hand and gradually wiped away her gob from his cheek. He smiled evilly, looked around at his stunned comrades and punched her in the stomach. Agatha’s petite body folded in excruciating pain.

  ‘Tie her up,’ he ordered the younger members of the group, who eagerly picked her up and flung her on the dirty bed. ‘No, tie her the other way. Daddy wants some ass today.’

  Agatha laid face down and watched as his heavy belt fell to the ground. He did not bother to undress. He unbuttoned his jean trousers and lowered its fly. Soon, she felt his whole body on top of her.

  ‘I’ll teach you to show some respect,’ he whispered in her ear, licked her neck, then his fingers.’ She struggled to move, but in vain. The ropes just dug further into her pale skin. She felt his wet fingers caress her and then, with a heavy grunt, Panteli pushed himself inside her. She held her lips tightly shut. She had decided to offer the monsters no satisfaction from watching her suffer.

  Her insides, still in pain from yesterday’s ordeal, burned in agony. Panteli breathed heavily as he kneeled behind her, rapidly raping her, pulling out of her and pushing himself back in. She wished he had a heart attack every time she heard him breathe with difficulty. He started to grow tired and lean on her. Unable to support the weight of the obese fifty year old, Agatha fell down into the mattress. All of Panteli was on top of her. She felt like she was suffocating, the heat unbearable. She could not keep her lips shut any longer and began to breathe and gasp for air.

  ‘Enjoying yourself, I see,’ Panteli whispered into her ear, biting down on the lobe. His breath stunk of alcohol.

  ‘I’m going to come,’ he proudly announced, signalling to Panayioti to come closer for the finale. The teen approached with the camera and zoomed in as his uncle pulled out and ejaculated over Agatha’s back.

  ‘Now, zoom in on the face,’ he directed as he picked up his semen with his fingers. ‘Dinner time, baby tits,’ he announced. ‘That’s a good girl,’ he said, enjoying the young girl’s ordeal.

  *The five men recorded the vicious rape.

  Chapter 18

  Tick. Tock. Tick. Agonizing tock. Seconds were flying by, gathering together and becoming minutes. My body wet and sore, my soul broken and defeated. I stumbled towards my room’s en suite bathroom; clothes fell to the carpet floor as I trudged along. Boxers fell last as I slammed the door behind me.

  Great. Now, even my pee is beginning to hurt. I must be coming down with something.

  I flushed the toilet and in a state of daze, watched the yellowish water cycle and disappear before appearing back, pure and clean. Catharsis. I wish it was that easy with humans, too. To press a button and come back shiny and new.

  Stop philosophizing, Costa, and get in the freaking shower, already. You know what it is you have to do. You have spoken enough. It is time for your gun and threats to speak.

  My aching feet managed to overcome the bath tub obstacle and enter the shower. My ankles seemed to have doubled in size. I know they carry around my heavily boned body, but lately as I unwillingly approached the half century mark of my existence, I had lost weight by being careful. I still enjoyed my food, yet I cut down on the alcohol, the juices and the two spoons of sugar in each of my three daily coffees. I even finished my salad that up to my late thirties was just a decoration on my meat-filled plate. Still, my weight was no excuse for feeling this tired, this sore. I guess my emotional state did not help either.

  Focus, man. Get a grip.

  My hands turned on the hot water. It burned my skin as it fell and I let it. Sweat and dirt streamed down me and cycled the drain. Two minutes later, my body felt better; in contrast to my dark spirits.

  I exited the bathroom naked, water still dripping down off me, blue towel in my right hand, roughly drying my thinning brown hair.

  I froze at the sight of the small cardboard box lying in the center of the bed. The towel free-fell to the floor. I rushed to the box, lifting it up. It was light. I threw off the paper lid and looked inside, my heartbeat beating the record of a hummingbird.

  A ball of tin foil and a piece of paper.

  ‘I warned you, Captain, but you did not listen. You did not take my threats seriously. I promised to return your spouse in return for your silence, yet you searched for her all day. Why? To release her and then make the murders public? Have us all arrested until you find me? Well, Captain, I do not plan on getting caught. And you will DO NOTHING to stop me. If you continue, FORGET your precious TRACY! She will be returned to you piece by piece! Each time you try to find me, she will suffer. The first piece of her is in the tin foil. Remember, it’s on you, not me. I warned you and you did not listen.’

  My God, please, no. Tracy…

  My hands picked up the ball of foil. Trembling they pulled the foil aside.

  No, no, no…

  I yelled like an angry animal, dropping the foil to the floor. I yelled again as my punch smashed the mirror hanging on the wal
l beside me.

  In the room next door, Ioli turned off the flowing water. She was not sure if she had heard a scream. She squinted her eyes and turned her ear towards the wall separating our rooms. A loud smashing sound echoed through her bathroom. Shampoo still in her hair, she leapt out the tub, grabbed the biggest towel from the pile in the cherry wood cabinet and with her gun in hand rushed out into the hallway. She paused at my door, leaning closer to eavesdrop. Only silence. After two seconds of inner debating whether to knock or not, she pulled down on the handle, hoping the door was not locked.

  I saw the door handle lower and quickly reached for my towel. As I wrapped it around me, blood dripped from my palms. I pulled out a tiny fragment of glass out my index finger as Ioli’s gun entered the room, followed by a fully-alert police Lieutenant. Her eyes scanned the room from left to right. She realized that I was alone.

  ‘Costa? What the fuck? What happened?’ she breathlessly asked, kicking the door closed behind her. ‘Is that blood?’ she asked in a high pitched voice as she rushed towards me and took my hands into hers. It was then, I realized, that my hands were shaking uncontrollably. It took me a while to reply to her series of questions.

  ‘I’m… I’m fine,’ I groaned and pulled my hands out of hers. I took a couple steps back and slid down the wall. I sat on the floor and pointed to the box and the ball of foil standing beside it. Her wary eyes studied me before turning and focusing on the brown, cardboard box. She knelt with caution; only a towel covered her body. I saw the shock spread over her now ashen face. She exhaled deeply and reached into the box for the note. Then, the color in her high cheekbones reappeared and a smile was born upon her face.

  ‘Are you smiling?’ I asked with amazement and curiosity coloring each word of my three word question.

  ‘You thought this was Tracy’s finger?’

  I stood up. My eyes widened. ‘Please tell me that is Cassandra’s missing finger.’

  ‘Of course it is. The cut is not fresh, you can see the difference in the color where the missing ring was and Tracy’s nails were not shaped this way. I polished her nails red just the other day.’

  I clumsily leapt forward and took her into my arms. ‘Thank God. I did not even think to check the finger. I read the note first and my mind jumped to the worst conclusion…’

  ‘Err, boss?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You can let go, now.’

  The image of the two of us standing there hugging naked, but for our towels was bordering between funny, awkward and inappropriate.

  ‘Oh, yeah. Sorry.’

  ‘Of course you presumed the worst. That is exactly what the killer wanted you to believe,’ Ioli said. ‘We have to stop searching for her, don’t we? We cannot risk…’

  ‘Go dress,’ I interrupted her. ‘I’m tired of playing games. We are taking charge and no one threatens us. It’s our turn to act.’

  Ioli placed her hands upon my bare shoulders. ‘I trust you 100%.’

  With a smile, I replied ‘glad to hear.’

  ‘So what’s the plan?’

  ‘We gather everyone in the dining room. It is time to really interrogate.’

  ‘Give me five minutes,’ she said and turned to leave.

  ‘Oh, and Ioli?’

  ‘Yeah, boss?’

  ‘Don’t forget your gun.’

  Her smile widened. ‘I never do,’ she replied, lifting her armed right hand. As the door closed behind her, I turned to the window. I gazed out into the wild mayhem on going outside. The charcoal sky was blackening by the minute.

  Short winter days.

  My eyes grew watery. Tracy hated the winter because of this. An avid fan of the siesta, she despised the early rolling in of the night during winter months. She would always complain about how she never had enough daylight to finish all of her to-do list.

  My sweet baby.

  More determined than ever, I quickly dressed. Another dull pair of pants, a white shirt and my grey jacket covered my body as I mechanically dressed; my mind set on my goals, analyzing my theories. Ioli normally trusted her gut, her instincts, yet I never was one for acting upon them. Now, with Tracy’s life on the line, I was ready to shoot and hope to score.

  This time round, Ioli knocked upon the wooden door. I opened to find her dressed in a pair of blue jeans that flattered her silhouette, a white shirt tucked into her jeans that stood with the help of an elegant, thin, black belt. Her black high heels were on; her eyes had reached mine.

  ‘Aren’t you cold?’

  ‘The heating is on all over the house and anyway, I feel flushed. Your eyes scare me.’

  ‘Good. Let’s hope they scare the ones I need them to,’ I said and strode down the hallway.

  ‘Aren’t you telling me anything more? How am I supposed to back you up…’ Ioli began to say as she quickened her pace to catch up with me.

  ‘No time. We need to get everyone immediately into the dining room. We can’t give the killer any chance of escaping, any time to get to Tracy. Besides, I fear that you might talk me out of it or say something to blow my theory out of the water and then I will be left with nothing and Tracy is still out there.’

  ‘OK, I’ll take the bedrooms and then go down to the servants,’ she replied, not questioning my plan.

  ‘And I’ll take the bottom floor. Everyone into the dining room.’

  Just then, the text I was expecting came from Headquarters. I avoided talking over the phone due to the cameras hidden around the house. I had texted them in the morning asking about details of a fallen plane and to validate a gossip report.

  ‘The solution is in the details, always,’ as my former partner used to say.

  Chapter 19

  Myriads of tourists walked up and down the beach front, the paved road of Naxos town; the fishing boats still upon the serene, turquoise waters on one side and the taverns and souvenir shops on the other. Large cruise ships stopped at a distance and deployed more sun and fun-seeking folks of all ages. The mid-day, Greek, summer sun burned strongly from above their heads and the cool sea breeze enjoyed over night had vanished, melted like a popsicle under the furious sunrays.

  Further down, people searched for a place in the sun upon the sandy beach of Agios Georgios. All of the sun beds were full, a line of umbrellas shielded playing-in—the-sand young ones and tanned, fit twenty-something year olds played with their beach rackets with the clear waters reaching up to their knees, lilos floated amongst swimmers and seagulls flew above their heads. The beach bars in the center provided beverages to the thirsty people under the sun, but in vain. Naxos, famous for its nightlife, filled its tourists up with cheap beers, quality local wine and spirits for all tastes. Alcohol and heat waves do not match and will keep you thirsty for hours.

  Just a ten minute drive away from all the commotion, a young girl continued to face much more serious issues than a hangover and thirst. It was the fourth day of Agatha’s imprisonment. For three days, the five beastly men had raped her body and soul. Agatha had given up. She fought her captors no more. She obeyed and carried out all of their perverted requests, anything to avoid being bitten, burned, beaten or humiliated by being urinated upon again.

  The silence scared her. In the beginning she was glad no one had come down this morning, then, hours later, fear took over.

  Where were they?

  What if they have left me here to die?

  What if they are planning on how to kill me?

  Questions ran freely and wild in the darkest corners of her mind. Her arms had gone numb; they remained tied up for such a long period of time. After being raped by all five men and fed their barbeque chicken leftovers, Achilles and his father, Panteli tied her up for the night. It must have been around midnight. She remembered watching the seconds go by on Valentino’s black watch as he raped her. Normally, young Panayioti would come down in the morning to untie her and bring her breakfast.

  Where were they?

  She closed her eyes and imagined th
e perfect scenario. The police had arrested them in town and were searching for her. Soon, they would be at her door.

  The growling of her stomach brought her back to reality. Hunger had tormented her during her stay in hell, beating out the pain she felt in her private parts, the pain from the kicks and punches, the pain from being whipped upon her back, the pain of teeth marks on her breasts, legs and ears, the pain in her soul.

  She lay naked with an empty stomach and a full bladder. Tears fell from her watery eyes as she decided not to hold it any longer. With fear of being punished, she urinated on the bed. Soaked in her own filth, she closed her eyes and tried to let her mind escape; to picture other times, other places, other faces.

  More hours later, the slamming of the door above caught her attention. Heavy footsteps were heard and the rattling of the basement’s door being unlocked echoed down to her below. Achilles, dressed in his green swimming trunks and a white T-shirt, came down first, followed by his father. Panteli scratched his thick beard and lit a thin cigar.

  ‘How’s my favorite whore doing today? Did you miss us?’ Panteli asked in a joyful mood, blowing smoke in Agatha’s direction. Agatha did not dignify his ridiculing with a reply.

  ‘Hungry?’ he continued. ‘We enjoyed a feast fit for kings. Unfortunately, all good things have to come to an end, sugar tits, and we took my brother and my nephews to the airport. We have jobs and families to return to. We can’t stay here all week satisfying your needs.’ He could not resist laughing sadistically at his words.

  Agatha’s heart beat accelerated. ‘This is it,’ her inner voice said. ‘They are going to kill me.’

  ‘Where was I? Oh, yes. A feast fit for kings. We had an entire lamb, the five of us. Delicious,’ Panteli rambled on as Achilles, with his new-found icy, apathetic look, approached her and started to untie her.