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A Predator and a Psychopath

Page 23

by Jay Kerk


  “I’m telling you, I didn’t hurt your family. I don’t know anything about you,” he said in a soft voice. I didn’t reply, this wasn’t the real him. I knew there was a dark man underneath this polite exterior, so I decided to wait.

  Not one minute later, he shouted, “I said cut me loose or I will fucking kill you! You motherfucker! You’re a worthless shit!” He was spitting and trying to maneuver out of the chair.

  That didn’t take much time, I thought. He’s already lost it.

  I waived the crowbar as a threatening message, and he settled down. I was sure he could get out of the laces if left alone, but he wouldn’t try while I was there with a weapon. I could break his arms and stop any attempts to escape before they even started.

  “Where’s my son?” I said. “Think well before you answer. I won’t leave an unbroken bone in your body. Where is Mathew?”

  “I told you, man. I am a gamer, I don’t know anything about him. I didn’t hurt your family. I swear,” he said, looking fragile and weak. I knew that this was also an act.

  “What is that in the fridge?” I said.

  “Nothing. I don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

  I stood up and hit him on the shoulder with the crowbar, and he grunted. “No lying,” I said and sat back down. “What is in the cups in the fridge?”

  “I’m a gamer. Some days are good and some are bad. I store my sperm and sell it to sperm banks for money.” He paused. “Some people need it, you know. They can’t make their own, or it isn’t good.”

  I didn’t reply.

  “Remember when I saw you in the meeting?” he asked. “I was going to check out SAA. I started masturbating so I could donate, but then I got hooked. I was checking if SAA would work for me.”

  “Really,” I said. “I thought you were a CCB agent. What about the Be Your Best Motel?”

  He was taken by surprise for a second.

  “What motel?” he said.

  I hit him on the shoulder, thigh, and both knees. He grunted.

  “Listen. I won’t get tired. I’ll keep hitting you.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you everything. I knew your daughter, but I had nothing to do with her or your wife’s death. I loved Lea.”

  The next blow was to his head. Blood started trickling down his face. He didn’t scream—maybe he was stunned that I had it in me. I was surprised, too. A raging anger filled me when he uttered her name.

  I switched on the computer. It was password-protected. I asked him for the password, and he gave me one. A screen notification popped up: the password was incorrect. I assumed the computer would allow only three wrong entries and then lock, but it could also have been set to lock after just two wrong entries.

  I hit him with all my power, focusing on his shoulders and avoiding making any new cuts. I sat down and he gave me another password and I entered it, but before hitting Enter, I glanced at him sideways. He was looking at the closet, as if he expected something to happen there.

  I didn’t press Enter, instead, I walked to the closet. I asked him about the plastic container, and he said it held a server. I asked him about the bottles, and he said they held coolant, but when I looked closely, I saw that the bottles had fuses attached to their caps.

  I removed the bottles carefully thinking to myself they might be bombs. Each bottle had a seal on its opening, like a thin film. These were weird bottles, metal, with nothing written on them. I asked him what was in them, and he insisted it was coolant.

  I knew he was lying, the coolant had to circulate to do its work. I put the bottles on the table and erased the password he had given me, and he suddenly charged at me from the chair, but I knocked him down and gave him a load of punches. I hit him until he passed out.

  I ran upstairs, hoping to find some rope and I saw a laptop bag lying on the kitchen table. I went into the living room and found that he had a back pack containing a ski mask and zip ties. Bingo.

  Cautiously, I went down downstairs with the computer bag and the zip ties, and he was still lying on his side, still tied to the chair. I placed as many zip ties on him as possible. I opened the bag, and inside were a laptop and an electronic notepad, exactly like the one Dr. Thompson had given me when I was in the facility.

  I sat back down in front of the screens and wished I had something to torture him with, some way to get him to give me the password. So far, all I knew was that he was a man who stored his semen in his basement, and he owned a ski mask and zip ties. I could call the police, and they would do a better job of investigating, maybe search for evidence and DNA; however, I would be arrested along the way and I would face severe consequences. The police wouldn’t question him about Mathew the way I wanted them to, my son was out there and I must find him.

  I searched online for torture methods, all of them required supplies, and few were truly cruel. I went upstairs and searched for something to use, but all I could find was lemon and salt. Squirt it into his eye.

  I waited patiently, but along the way I panicked about not finding anything and assaulting the man in his house. After some discussion, I told him I would not leave unless I see what is on the computer, otherwise I would stay here. At that stage, he offered up the password without me even asking for it. I entered the password on the desktop keyboard and threatened him that if it didn’t work, I would break all ten fingers and all ten toes.

  It logged in, the desktop was empty except for one folder, I double-clicked it and it was empty on the inside. I try the changing the hidden feature, but nothing appeared to be hidden. This was the moment I realized the defeat, I panicked to the thought of police and facing Cynthia and Luke. If only I preserved the good thing I had with Cynthia.

  The man started babbling, but I could not focus on what he said, I was sure he mentioned untying him and leaving. I reached for the electronic notepad and powered it on and entered the password used for the folders, it worked but prompted a fingerprint validation from the garbage man. Once in, I saw he had many text files saved in a folder labeled, “Manifesto: Rise of the Elite.”

  What a sick motherfucker.

  I threw down the notepad and opened the laptop, and suddenly one of the screens turned on by itself. The other three screens followed. What I saw was horrific: he was filming people, in their homes, and it was live. Each screen was split into eight smaller ones.

  “Wait. It’s not what you think, this is paid service, these people willingly accept to be recorded. You have to know that.”

  Yeah right, as if I believe you.

  His shirt was now bloody from the cut on his forehead, and his eyes had started swelling.

  I checked the desktop of the laptop, and there was a folder I clicked on and it had several folders inside, named by year. I opened the 2016 folder and scrolled down. I saw her name in caps: LEA. I double-clicked.

  “What you see doesn’t mean I hurt her or her mom. Man, I told you, I loved Lea.”

  There were fifty-two items in that folder, and all of them were videos of them having sex in the studio. I was so sad, I cried. It was horrible to see. “You fucking sick bastard!”

  I returned to the 2016 folder and started opening other folders within it. They all contained footage of him having sex with women, or videos that looked like they had been made by secretly filming women in their homes. I spent an hour looking through them, and George called three times to check in. There was nothing else, but surely this would be enough to get him investigated for what happened to my family and convicted for whatever other shit he had done.

  “Listen, man,” he said. “No one got hurt. All of this is just for me. I don’t sell it, and no one sees it except me. I told you, I didn’t hurt your family. I was angry at you because I thought you hurt Lea, that’s it. I really loved her.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” I yelled.

  “Let me go, and I won’t press charges,” he said. “I told you, I did nothing. I didn’t do anything to them.”

  I jumped out of my seat, cut
off part of his shirt, and stuffed it in his mouth. It wasn’t the best gag, but it worked. He was still loud, but no longer comprehensible.

  I didn’t know what to do next. I was curious to know what was in the bottles. I removed the film on one bottle and held it close to my nose. It smelled like vomit, I poured a few drops on the desk, and they made a hole and released an awful smell. It was probably acid, certainly something corrosive.

  I lit a cigarette and thought. I right-clicked inside the folder, and changed the option to “Show all files.” More folders appeared, with names like “on the road” and “my special one” and “experiment.” My heart gave an extra beat, Mathew. What do I want now, to see him or to know he didn’t hurt him?

  I opened “on the road,” and it had many folders inside it, all filled with videos of pranking old people, hitting women, and video footage taken on buses and subways.

  I found folders with people’s names. I looked through very quickly—I wanted to see if there was anything on Lisa, Lea, or Mathew. I found one called Kelly, and my heart skipped a beat. My Kelly? Definitely not her.

  Seeing what he had done to her, I punched him few times and kicked him on the floor until he started spitting blood. All I was thinking was, don’t kill him, Jason. Don’t kill him. Don’t kick the head.

  I still needed him to tell me where Mathew was.

  I opened “the special one” and saw him choking an underage girl while having sex with her. The “experiment” was him with a boy, and I was glad it wasn’t Mathew, but I was so sad to see that happen to someone. How damaging and how unfair to commit such an act on a defenseless and vulnerable soul.

  I wanted to kill him, he deserved it, and I would probably be excused, but I knew from his demeanor that he was hiding more. “Where is Mathew?” I asked him more than fifty times and he insisted he knew nothing about him, and he never took him away. He even mentioned that he has no motive now to hide anything else, especially that I have seen everything on his laptop.

  I looked at the laptop, not knowing what else to do, how to squeeze the truth out of him. There were a few icons on its desktop, one was titled, “the elite paradise.” I double clicked, and it opened another video feed.

  There were three women in what at first appeared to be a jungle with many trees and a small stream of water, but it looked like the jungle was in a cement warehouse or a deserted building. The three women had chains around their necks, and one of them was pregnant, they looked weak and lethargic. One of them was watching TV.

  “Jesus Christ,” I said.

  The three women were startled, and the one watching the TV shut it off rapidly. The three of them quickly sat on chairs and straightened their backs.

  “Shit. You sick motherfucker,” I said.

  They looked at each other as if they heard me.

  “Can you hear me? Where are you?” I asked. There was no way they could hear me. What kind of twisted simulation was this?

  They stood up suddenly. “Please let us out!” “Please!” “Please!” One started crying. The pregnant one fell to her knees begging. She had a very big bulge, she was probably in her seventh or eighth month. “Let us out before he comes back!”

  “Wait a minute.” I called the police and gave them the address. I said I had a man tied up in his basement, and I could see three women held in captivity via video feed on his laptop. They said they were coming.

  “What are your names? And do you know your location?” I said to the women.

  I texted George: “The police are on their way. Call Luke. Tell him to come here. Tell him I got the motherfucker.”

  “Melanie Salva,” said a very thin woman who didn’t look at all well. She was swaying from side to side. “We don’t know where we are.”

  “Laurie Makenzie,” the pregnant woman yelled.

  “Christelle Sherlie.” Her voice told me she was young.

  “The asshole impregnated me! He’s the guy who looks after my apartments. Tell them his name: Andy Manger. Andy Magner!”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “You’re going to be saved. The police are on their way.”

  I had a few minutes before they would arrive, I begged him to tell me where Mathew is - was. I thought this was his only leverage at this point, and he’d probably try to use it to get a deal.

  I wondered where he was keeping Mathew. Was there another live feed for Mathew, like with the women? If the guy went to jail, who would feed Mathew?

  I took a few pictures for leverage, but while taking them, I asked myself about the purpose of what I was doing in the moment. Almost two years had passed, and no progress had been made. I’d had to take care of finding this creep on my own. How could I trust the police now?

  I sat on the floor and rested my back on the wall and thought of one thing only, they are GONE. This monster took my family. I lost them all, including Mathew.

  THE END

  END NOTE

  Protect your children and promote the protection of all children. Predators are smart and manipulative, they feed and act on people’s trust.

  The vast majority of abusers are within the close circle of the family. Be vigilant. Never break your rules even if you trust whoever, never let your guard down.

  I am sorry if some parts of the novel made you angry. I also felt bad about thinking like this for a brief time.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Thanks again for reading the book, appreciating your time. If you enjoyed it, I would be immensely grateful if you could rate it and post a short review.

  My email is Authorjaykerk@gmail.com, drop me a message if you want.

  Table of Contents

  Part 1 - Jason

  Chapter 1: Page Dr. Thompson

  Chapter 2: Play Along

  Chapter 3: Facing the Demons

  Chapter 4: Impure Truth

  Chapter 5: Broken

  Chapter 6: Mathew

  Chapter 7: Peanuts Over Walnuts

  Chapter 8: A Gray Rainbow

  Part 2 - Jerry

  Chapter 1: Who Am I?

  Chapter 2: Into the Abyss

  Chapter 3: Kaleidoscope

  Chapter 4: The One

  Chapter 5: Courage

  Chapter 6: Enkidu

  Chapter 7: Boredom

  Chapter 8: Nothingness

  Chapter 9: Turbulence

  Part 3 - Jason

  Chapter 1: A Free Bird

  Chapter 2: Go On

  Chapter 3: Guardian Angel

  Chapter 4: And Action

  Chapter 5: So What?

  Chapter 6: Inspection

  Chapter 7: Plans of Hope

  Chapter 8: Dancing With a Lady

  Chapter 9: Sin

  Chapter 10: Garbage Bins

  Part 4 - Jerry

  Chapter 1: Out of the Cocoon

  Chapter 2: New Times

  Chapter 3: Alpha

  Chapter 4: Rain

  Chapter 5: Healed

  Chapter 6: Focus

  Chapter 7: Dreams Do Come True

  Part 5 - Jason

  Chapter 1: Breeze

  Chapter 2: Serendipity

  Chapter 3: Laugh

  Chapter 4: Never Say Never

  Chapter 5: Debt

  Table of Contents

  Part 1 - Jason

  Chapter 1: Page Dr. Thompson

  Chapter 2: Play Along

  Chapter 3: Facing the Demons

  Chapter 4: Impure Truth

  Chapter 5: Broken

  Chapter 6: Mathew

  Chapter 7: Peanuts Over Walnuts

  Chapter 8: A Gray Rainbow

  Part 2 - Jerry

  Chapter 1: Who Am I?

  Chapter 2: Into the Abyss

  Chapter 3: Kaleidoscope

  Chapter 4: The One

  Chapter 5: Courage

  Chapter 6: Enkidu

  Chapter 7: Boredom

  Chapter 8: Nothingness

  Chapter 9: Turbulence

  Part 3 - Jason

  Cha
pter 1: A Free Bird

  Chapter 2: Go On

  Chapter 3: Guardian Angel

  Chapter 4: And Action

  Chapter 5: So What?

  Chapter 6: Inspection

  Chapter 7: Plans of Hope

  Chapter 8: Dancing With a Lady

  Chapter 9: Sin

  Chapter 10: Garbage Bins

  Part 4 - Jerry

  Chapter 1: Out of the Cocoon

  Chapter 2: New Times

  Chapter 3: Alpha

  Chapter 4: Rain

  Chapter 5: Healed

  Chapter 6: Focus

  Chapter 7: Dreams Do Come True

  Part 5 - Jason

  Chapter 1: Breeze

  Chapter 2: Serendipity

  Chapter 3: Laugh

  Chapter 4: Never Say Never

  Chapter 5: Debt

 

 

 


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