Gerald Robinson.
He fiddled with the custom nameplate on his desk. Things as a private detective had been pretty slow that year; cases hadn't been as abundant. That is, until four months ago.
Fifteen students at a local college were kidnapped, two were somehow the culprits, two escaped, thirteen of them were killed. Gerald scratched his head, his eyes closed. How did two punk kids pull off a massacre of that caliber?
When the police found the bodies and the two survivors, they were out in the woods in some abandoned cabin. The evidence of whoever put them there was practically untraceable. There was no sign of struggle, no blood, just a really disgusting old shack and a pile of dead bodies. The two who made it, Alaire Bowen and Aaron Clement, were both unconscious. Neither of them seemed to remember how they got there.
Gerald reopened one of the several folders on his desk for the tenth time. In both of their testimonies, they were last in a hospital, and before that an old theme park. However, Aaron recognized the abandoned shack and claims that’s where the captors brought him and a few others from the beginning.
Gerald rolled his eyes. The cops had found out so much and yet so little. He reviewed the pictures of the victims and sighed loudly.
Even if someone had killed them at that cabin, the manner in which they were each killed were too bizarre. One girl had completely lost her head and the rest of her body was mostly bones, her meat had been eaten off. Cannibals? Unlikely. However, another boy seemed to have a similar death with most of his body being eaten, except in his case his face was the first to go.
A girl named Jessica was simply stabbed in a few places, that was easy to interpret, but then there was this kid Spencer who’s body was full of deep holes from... spikes? He looked like a block of swiss cheese. Alaire's brother was also stabbed, one girl's head was blown by gunshot, another guy's body was smashed to oblivion, a kid named Dwight drowned somehow, and one kid even had a huge cantaloupe-sized hole through his chest. Gerald couldn't forget the girl who's insides turned into a beehive. What in the hell?
These were crafty, well thought out, and possibly experimental murders, Gerald thought. The one thing getting in the way of the investigation was the missing bodies of Matt and Taylor. All the authorities had to go off of was the word of the survivors. Gerald would’ve been skeptical as well, but when a tiny girl like Alaire confesses to killing someone in self-defense, it makes you wonder what motive she had to admitting such a thing. The bodies still haven't been found, she could’ve kept it to herself, but she didn’t, in fact, she was quite insistent about it.
Luckily, they were able to confirm that Matt and Taylor were involved in suspicious activity, like false identities and such, which helped pin the kidnappings on them. The mystery of all the murders was still… well, a mystery.
Gerald’s office door suddenly burst open. He was shocked to see Aaron, one of the freaking survivors! Following closely behind him was Ryan, Gerald’s assistant.
“Looks like you’re not gonna do what you’re paid to do,” Gerald slouched in his large office chair, “Being my guard dog means you don’t let people waltz in, exactly like this.” He gestured to Aaron.
“Dude,” Ryan’s dark eyebrows rose, “Have you seen this guy? He looks pissed.”
“An even better reason for you to do your job effectively…”
Aaron looked haggard. Dark bags under his eyes, his beard a bit untamed, and his chest puffed with every breath. It didn't look like he was in the mood to leave, so Gerald offered him a chair across from his desk.
“Look,” Aaron’s voice was surprisingly calm, “Sorry for being brash, but I’m freaking out and the cops aren’t taking me seriously anymore.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” Ryan said proudly.
“Back to your desk, please,” Gerald pointed to the door. Ryan’s shoulder’s slumped and walked out of the room. Now that they were alone, Gerald let out a long sigh and clasped his hands together, setting them on the desk.
“You’re the miracle child?”
Aaron eyebrows pulled together.
“One of the survivors,” Gerald explained.
“Oh… yeah, I guess,” Aaron had a cell phone in his hand, and his hands were shaking, “Something happened to my friend last night.”
“The other survivor?”
Aaron nodded, “Alaire.”
Interesting. Gerald thought for a moment, why wouldn't the cops be interested? They’d be scrambling for any kind of lead.
“We were on the phone last night,” Aaron started, “I heard something downstairs so I left for a second, but when I came back our call had dropped. My phone started ringing again… I figured she was just calling me back or maybe a butt-dial, but… Well, listen for yourself.”
Aaron set his phone on the desk and opened a voicemail from Alaire. Gerald got closer and waited for a girl’s voice, but instead it sounded like movement. Someone was struggling, a female. Has to be Alaire. He could tell by the small gasps she made. Something was preventing her from being able to scream. It definitely sounded like a second party was in the room. Something fell over making a loud thud, and that was the end of the message.
“The cops didn't react well to this?” Gerald asked in disbelief.
“When I went to Alaire’s house to check on her, her parent’s seemed surprised, like they didn't hear anything. We all went into her bedroom and she was gone and the place was spotless. Except for a weird mark on her wall and her phone on the floor.”
Aaron took a breath before continuing, “When we went to the police, they started getting suspicious. OF HER! And even of me. I thought that was taken care of a while ago, but they think her disappearance is her running away.”
“And you believe she was kidnapped?”
“I hope that’s all she is!” Aaron said, “I just mean… I hope she isn't hurt. But she might be! I don’t know…”
“You showed them this voicemail?”
“Yeah, and they’re looking for her, I just don’t think they’re looking for her with the right intent.”
“She’s still the victim,” Gerald said mostly to himself, “And you want me to find her?”
Aaron nodded, “Please. If anything happened to her… I think I’d lose my mind even more.”
Gerald could tell there was inner turmoil in this guy, a mixture of worry for his friend and worry that he might even be in danger next. Poor kids. And they aren’t even the only victims anymore. Gerald looked at the blue folder to his left, knowing the contents inside could send Aaron on a trip.
They discussed the terms of their agreement, and Aaron was willing to pay the half up front. Gerald was pleased of course, but still a bit surprised. Aaron even agreed to leave his phone for some more inspection, and before leaving he told Gerald, "I think there was some interference with my phone as well... For a second my screen was locked and it was doing something strange. Check into it if you can."
After Aaron left, Ryan stomped on back bursting through Gerald’s office door again. Gerald bit his tongue.
“So what happened?”
“We got a job,” Gerald responded.
Ryan sat himself down in one of the chairs and scooted in close. Gerald watched him with dead eyes.
“No seriously,” Ryan looked excited, “He’s one of the students right?"
“Yes.”
“Does this have anything to do with the new investigation?”
Gerald looked back at the blue folder again, this time he opened it. A few pictures of young faces were clipped together.
"For her sake, I hope not. But I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a possibility."
*****
Macy felt something drip on her forehead. Aw man, she groaned, it rained last night, but did her apartment really have a leak? It sucks being on the top floor! Even so, she drifted back into sleep, until she felt dripping on her arm. More leaks? Ugh! It was impossible to ignore at this point. Macy rubbed her closed eyes with the back of her hand. Huh? Her hand must've gotten wet too.
Coming to her senses, the air smelt heavily of rust. So badly she could almost taste it. What did her roommate do this time? Host a welding party in their living room? Macy opened her eyes, ready to handle the catastrophe.
Her mouth dropped open.
She wasn't in her apartment at all. It was suddenly apparent how uncomfortable the bed was. Macy was laying on a metal table covered with a dirty cloth. The ceiling took her a few moments to believe what she was seeing. Hanging like bait on meat hooks were chunks of a human body, limbs, and even their head.
Covering Macy's forehead and arms were droplets of blood. Her body violently shook, she clamped her eyes shut, and then screamed.
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