hey read this.
Victoria Elizabeth Smith.
She looked at her scarred wrists, the wrists she once slit with the edge of a sharp razor. She was only a teen when she tried to take her own life. Her name was Victoria Elizabeth Smith a Homicide Detective for the NYPD. Standing 5feet 9inches and about 150 pounds. Golden blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes like the sky. Any guy will kill to date her, but her heart was broken too many times. She spent more time with the death than her own family. Her life was dark and enigmatic. After all she was strong as a horse, and let nothing put her down.
Victoria had a long day and she was ready to lie down to get some rest. As she closed her eyes, she quickly fell into an abyss full of chaos. The images of her abusive father flashed on her mind. His strong fist charging fiercely towards her mother’s face one hit after another. She saw her herself peeking through the door of her room, holding tight the only doll she had and hearing her father’s fist slam towards her mother until he slowly stopped. As her mother lay unconscious, her father slowly approached her room and opened the door making a squeaking noise. Little Victoria dropped to her knees and burst into tears, her father having a perverse look in his eyes, slowly unbuckle his belt and put his zipper down, he then closed the door shut making the night eternal. Victoria’s beeper wildly vibrated and woke her up out of her horrible childhood memories. It said James Carter and an address where she was needed. Something had come up in the middle of the night. James was her partner. She quickly got out of bed, put on her Levis jeans and her shirt. She grabbed her car keys, bag and 9mm, rapidly rushing out the door not knowing what the night had in store for her.
Victoria anxiously opened the door of her mini cooper, started on the engine and race down the street. The night was cool and the wind blew her beautiful enchanting hair in a very seductive way. As she drove, she looked through her bag, and grabbed her red lipstick; she quickly applied it to her upper lip and slowly down her bottom lip. Victoria whisper to herself, “Why James will call me this late, It must been something real big.” The suspense was killing her, so she grabbed her phone and called James. He picked up on strange tone saying "Victoria, Where are you, you have to come down here, right now…" She asked what was going on, and his reply was "...Your not are not gone believe it...”, followed by a cough, he hung up and left her hanging from what she was going to say. For James to sound so serious and strange, it was something very serious. Detective James was the typical clown. He always joked around and tried to make people laugh, but something about his tone, made Victoria worried.
Her destination was Long Island City, Queens, an abandoned factory. She looked at the clock and boldly said 2:45 A.M. She whispers, "…It isn't a very good time to be around that area at this time…" After a 30 minute drive, she was finally there. The flashing sirens near the crime scene could have been seen from blocks away. It was something serious. NYPD, Crime forensics and even FBI were there. Victoria parked her car, and quickly got out. Flashing her badge, saying Homicide Detective coming through, everyone got out of her way. She had a reputation of being an excellent detective and having a nasty attitude, so no one mess with her. She stepped into the crime scene, and James stood there with his flashlight pointing up a couple of feet from the ground. Victoria stare in disbelief and closed her eyes saying "…God, Why?..."
The body of a torture black male hanged from the ceiling by several tuna fish hooks pierced onto his shoulders and long iron chains locked into the ceiling. The body hanged, lifelessly. The body dangled slowly back and forth, with massive impacts to the face. Victoria couldn't believe a person could have done this. This was no person, this was a monster. A cruel demon with no remorse. James began talking about the time of death, cause of death and all the details about the victim. Victoria wasn't listening, she slowly examine the body for any special details. Victoria noticed something about his fingers, his finger nails were missing. She quickly turned around and asked James, Do you have down all of his fingernails are missing. James replied "…Uhh no…", well write it down Victoria said coldly.
The Forensics began to look for evidence that could help the detectives catch the murdered. Anything will be useful, even one fingerprint. After hours of looking, nothing was found. He is a professional Victoria shouted, and James replies on a sarcastic way "…duh…" Victoria approached a table not so far from where the young man hanged. There was a piece of paper and something written on it.
It was a yellow paper. It seemed like it was written nervously after doing this horrific act. Victoria could of picture the stress and the pressure the murdered had been trough. The paper said “FORIVE ME FOR THIS ACT, AND FORGIVE ME FOR WHAT IM ABOUT TO COMMIT”
This puzzle Victoria, She taught and whisper to herself as usual saying Aif he stroked ones, he can strike twice@
Forensic Clark Burrows was the head in making autopsies to the victims. Victoria and James entered his lab, and he began briefing. Name Mark Johnson, Sex Male, 35 years of age, 6 feet 2 inches, and 195 pounds. Time of death less than five hours ago, cause of death, powerful blow to right temple leaving the sphenoid bone (temple) completely “dented”. The final blow taken to the left temple caused severe damage to the cerebral hemispheres leading to a very painful death.
In general, it wasn’t a pleasant death Burrows said. Victoria carefully analyzed the corpse. The holes that the tuna hooks left behind made her feel disgusted. She couldn’t watch anymore and decided to leave. After staying up all night, Victoria went home and slept.
Victoria headed to the precinct. She wanted to find out everything about the victim, Mark Johnson. When she arrived to her office, she sat down on her computer and opened the database. Before she did anything, a message popped up in the screen saying “…New message, Please Check…” The message contained only one sentence where it said, “…Did you sleep well after seeing his body, where the pink pjs comfy..?”
Victoria flipped but she remained quiet about this. She asked to herself how the hell this person knew she was wearing pink pjs. It made Victoria worry a lot. The message was from an unknown sender, and she couldn’t trace it back. She cursed out loud and everyone around turn their heads towards her, and shouted “You people having nothing else to do!?”
She put the message aside, and began investigating who Mark Johnson was. She skim trough all his records. Reading quickly read US Citizen, African American, 6’2”, and she found something that caught her attention. His criminal record, Johnson was convicted of sec.130.65 Sexual abuse in the first degree, consider a felony class D. He was convicted back in 92 and served 8 years in prison, the victim a twelve year old girl.
Victoria felt the rushing blood come up her jugular veins up to her head. Deep inside Victoria felt
“happy” this man was vanished from the face of this earth. The other side tells her not to think like that and not be that way.
There was more to this murder than just an act of hate, or just because the murdered felt like it.
Victoria had to put the pieces of the puzzles in place and use all she knew to put this man behind bars. The man wasn’t an amateur; he knew how to play the game and left no evidence at all that traced back at him, leaving it extremely difficult to search for suspects. There wasn’t even one witness that will help lead her and James to a possible suspect.
Weeks went by fast and the case remained the same, a mystery. It wasn’t until Victoria received a call from SWAT Captain Keller. When Victoria picked up her phone, she heard a strong voice shouting “...VICTORIA WE NEED YOU AT 125-45 JAMAICA ESTATES IMMIDIATLEY!!!..” followed by a clicking noise. Victoria was at pub having a beer; she paid the bartender and rushed out the door faster than a bullet. She stepped onto her cooper and shift the gearbox to fifth, rushing through the L.I, zigzagging trough the lanes like a crazy teenager. She could hear the horses of the engine screaming and shouting to step on the gas a little more. Victoria loved speeding, and her car was a 05’ Mini Cooper dual turbo charged engine. After almost causing a major accident with her craziness behind the wheel, she reached her exit.
When she arrived fearful men where armed, with submachine guns calmly aiming towards a house. Victoria parked her car, and got out yelling what the hell was going on. Captain Keller briefed her with the latest Intel and then provided her with a beautiful steyr AUG bullpup rifle. The situation was that an unknown caller contacted the police saying he was responsible for the murder of Mark Johnson and had committed a second murder. He also mentioned he was heavily armed and ready to put up a good fight.
Victoria couldn’t believe a mastermind like this, the mysterious murder brought up this upon him. NYPD negotiator Adam Cubbin was unable to reach the suspect and could not begin with the procedure of talking it out. Therefore violent force must have to be taken to put an end to this. Captain Keller commands his man to surround the house, placed several snipers in the surroundings and he was ready to deploy its men inside the house.
Victoria asked permission to Keller if she could join in them in the raid into the house. Permission was granted and Victoria armed with her AUG and a 9mm as her side arm, lead team A into the house. Knocking the door down and screaming NYPD everybody down, the house was calm and everything was still. Victoria lead team A inside and secured the perimeter. There was no sign of the suspect or his suppose victim until the body of naked man was found in the kitchen floor with a severe cut from his neck to pelvis.
Victoria put her rifle down and analyzed the body carefully. It was similar to Johnson’s death. Beautifully executed, slowly tortured to death. Psychotic fantasies, taught Victoria. The murdered was a freak, and was impulsively obsessed with torture. The blood in the floor had an awkward smell and funny color. The corpse was rotting and horrific smells overwhelm everyone in the room. Victoria noticed there was a lot of food spilled and vomit throughout the floor. She called up Crime Scene Unit to make further investigations in the matter.
As Victoria stood up a loud bang quickly reached her ears, making her draw her gun in a second and opened fire on a man that ran through the door. She jumped and raced out of the door down the steps, she saw him. A tall bald man stepping into a classic muscle car, and insanely speeding down the road. She ran to her car, and began chasing the suspect. She sped like never before, putting her sirens on of her tiny cooper everyone got out of her way.
She raced down the L.I. for the second time in a day, but this time she felt her heart pounding against her chest, feeling an adrenaline rush, she hit the clutch and shifts the gearbox to the sixth speed. The steering wheel was now intensively shaking due to the extreme speed she was going at. The speed o meter marked 140 mph, at these speeds and the size of her car. One spin of the wheel and her life was gone. There was no time to call backup, it was only her and him.
In a game of Tom and Jerry, her car didn’t have the power the old camaro had. She was at least five hundred feet from him, and the roaring engine of his muscle car could be heard from there. Her car was now overheating and she had to stop. Extremely frustrated, Victoria slam her dedicated hands against the steering wheel, cursing. A slight tear went down her cheek, making her eyes bluer than ever. Her frustration to catch this mystery killer went to an obsession. She felt impotence of him being a lot smarter than her, and she asked herself how the hell he was not detected in the house.
When Victoria started heading back to the precinct her phone ran off the hook. Crying and cursing she raced her way back where the chief will be up her butt about all this mess. She had already too much stuff in mind to deal with his crap, so she didn’t even bother to think about him. All she had in mind was to lock up this animal once and for all, but only knowing that he was tall, bald and owned a camaro didn’t cut it.
It was that time to see Forensic Clark again. Slowly narrating all details about the victim and caused of death, Victoria rudely interrupted and asked him. “..What’s inside his torso?” Clark gave the strangest look to Victoria, putting his sight down and he slowly said …”You ain’t going to believe it...” Slowly opening the deep cut, a bunch of small papers was revealed. It wasn’t paper; they were photographs, photographs of young little girls and cute teenagers. The images were cover by blood and a nasty slimly substance but the cute faces could still be seen.
Victoria couldn’t believe this. It seems like the murder choose his victims according to the type of people Victoria strongly despised. She took the bloody latex gloves off, and slam the lab door open, walking quickly towards the computer criminologist. She yelled …”Get me all the info you can on Eric Miller, S.S. # 125-47-9237...”
Eric Miller was the second victim. Standing 5 feet 8 inches and about 275 pounds, he was severely over weight. Victoria asked Clark for the full autopsy of his body, and he handed her the paper with all the details.
According to Clark it seemed like he was fed over and over until his stomach became the size of a basketball. That wasn’t the cause of death tough; he died from severe internal bleeding. He was cut opened alive, but he was numb on anesthetics. He was paralyzed when the savage slowly opened his torso with the sharp surgical knife. He watched his own death, literally. His death wasn’t physical painful, but caused an extreme psychological trauma. What can be worse to see your whole torso open and be stuffed with photographs of little girls.
This was too much, Victoria was becoming self destructive, drinking massive amounts of alcohol and not even knowing who she really was. This case was special from any other case she had in the past. It brought back many childhood memories. Victoria hated her father; he abused her sexually for over five years until the night of May 25 1988. She taught about how she struck her own father with a 12 inch blade. Piercing his chest and blood gushing out, and getting all over her. She wasn’t convicted of murder, due to self defense. Her mother couldn’t handle the death of her husband, even after he abused her countless times. She committed suicide, and Victoria was left an orphan at age 14.
Chief of Detectives, Joe Carter was thinking about taking Victoria off the case. She was letting her personal life influence her professional life. The little games this murderer was playing weren’t healthy for Victoria at all. He was ready to take her out of the case, until his phone ranged.
It was a police officer, requesting for Crime Scene Unit and homicide detectives to assist. Joe called Victoria, giving her the location and latest info. He turned around and looked out his window not knowing for sure if he made the right call.
Rushing once again down the highway, Victoria was anxious to arrive. When she did, the saw the “NO TRASSPASING” tape being attached from one post to another. The scene was in the middle of the street. The bodies of a young girl lie in the middle of the street. Victoria kneels down, and a tear went down her cheek. She wasn’t even angry; she was just ashamed of how ignorant we humans are. Of how one can commit such act to another, of how the so call “leaders” of our nations can declare war on another and completely change lives worldwide.
Victoria sat down and just stared at the teen age girl. Her wrists were slit, but this time that girl was at the other side. She taught of how this city is an urban jungle full of predators, and people still loved this city. Her body seemed cold and was blue, she was naked. When CSU (Crime Scene Unit) arrived, her body was put on the last thing she will be on, a black plastic bag.
Victoria knew who ever he was. He killed this victim to remind her of her haunting past. Ignoring her extreme anger, she drove down to the morgue to once again listen to Mr. Clark coldly describe her death.
As Victoria went down the road, she spaced out and out of the blue. An extremely powerful force slammed her tiny car and blasted her head against her window and the glass shattered into a thousand pieces. After that extreme impact, everything went pitch black.
Victoria opened her eyes slowly, awkwardly she was upside down. Her car had been severely crashed. She could smell the oil dripping down her engine. She had cuts all over her face, and a deep cut on the side of her skull. She couldn’t think or react. A horrible headache over powered her brain from thinking and she was unable to comply. She gave up and closed her eyes.
Detective James rushed into the hospital, and desperately asked where she was held. A security officer that was the size of a gorilla told him to cool off and grabbed him by the shoulders. James wasn’t that tall, and he always felt threaten by taller men, he flashed his badge and colt 45 on his face, and warned him if he ever touched him he will put a bullet through his head. The security officer, knowing how angry he was, he just nodded and let him walk.
James had been in love with Victoria ever since he first met her. When he spoke to the doctor and, him telling him that she was in coma, it was like a hammer had came down upon him and crushed him. James held her hand, and a tear went down his cheek. He couldn’t believe this had happened. The worst part of all was that it was no accident. This was an assassination attempt. The car that slammed into her cooper was a camaro, same model, and same powerful roaring engine as the one she once bravely chased. Unfortunately, there was no plate number or any evidence that lead to this freak. Once again confusion occurred in the mind James and everyone in this investigation. Why? Will the murdered try to kill Victoria in a car? Why not just torture her just like he did with the other three. It wasn’t until this mastermind entered the doors of the hospital and made an astonishing ending to his great game.
Sean David Brooks entered the hospital. His height made him look strong and scary. He had not one hair in his head, he was completely bald. In his right arm, a tattoo written in German, it said “Tod zwingt die, die ihm entgegensetzen” meaning “Death compels those who oppose it”
He wore a long trench coat, which disguise powerful weapons of death. A 12 pump action shot gun and dual m92 Berettas and enough ammunition to take down a small army. He pressed the UP sign of the wall and pressed the number six in the elevator. He closed his eyes and began to pray.
When the door opened he started walking down the hall and to the left. There the gorilla security officer stood guarding Victoria’s room. Sean slowly approached the security guard, and in a split second, he injected a lethal poison into the officer’s throat that let him slowly close his eyes shut forever.
Sean dragged the dead body into Victoria’s room. She laid calmly with severe bruises to her face and lots of cuts throughout her body. Sean locked the door, and ridiculously no one saw anything. He stood up besides her. The man Victoria despises and wanted to kill with her own hands was right in front of her. Victoria could feel some one besides her, even after she was in a deep coma.
Sean began speaking, having a German accent but very understandable. He said “...Victoria you’re a great woman. A great detective that’s served over ten years to a city that gave nothing back to you. You had arrested innocent men and casted many demons to prison. You have chased evil all your life and you never took a minute to look into yourself. You are oblivious to the fact you destroyed many homes by arresting innocent men and woman, you are oblivious to the power words have. You are selfish and careless, you try to be “good” but have no idea how quickly you are destroying yourself with your haunted past. You think by arresting “bad” people, you will save this world from self destruction? You are wrong. This world is like a ying yang, there will always be evil and good. No one is an angel, and no one is a full devil. I idolize you, but in your eyes I was a simple janitor that cleaned your office. You had no idea who I was, but now you will. Now you will never forget my name, and these words. I planed all this correctly; I did not miss one detail. I wanted to show you what true evil was, and to prove you, you can’t get everything your way. I hoped I made you stressed, I hoped you hate me for taking your work in removing bad from this earth. I killed those two men because they were savages, rapist and child molesters they deserved to be killed and torture. The little girl was to really get to you and touch you deep inside. Make your remember all those haunting memories from your father, and to crash you. The last step was this, this conversation, after I walk out of this room, the world will know me as a ruthless murderer but only you will know the truth. Only you will know my Victoria. You’re enchanting and I was obsessed with you. For now I must depart into the gates of hell, where Lucifer itself held’s a special ceremony for me, all the presidents of hell await in a circle for me to come to their arms and join them for eternity. Where Allu the faceless and monstrous demon awaits to rip me into a million pieces for the actions I done here. I do not fear him; I know I have a good place in hell, better than here in earth. He kissed her goodbye, and slowly walked towards the door.
He stepped out with a look of pride and anger. Sean whipped out his pump-action 12 gauge. Walking towards his victims, taking one step at a time with a smirk on his face, he opened fire. The victims were armed with 9mms; pointing and shouting “Freeze!” the echo of their voices triggered an explosive nuclear reaction on his mind, and open fire uncontrollably.
All the small buckshot pebbles dashed trough the air, smashing everything in its path and finally meeting its faith, a young rookie cop. The pump action reloading sound was the reaper itself in the ears of an armless security officer. Once again another blow breaking glass, medicine cabinets and exploding metal fragments all over the place. Blood slowly spilled on the floor, making a river of blood and broken things.
Backup was on its way. Captain Keller loaded his m4a1 rifle and his men were ready for combat. Professional sharp shooters surrounded the area, and had their cross hair in the main entrances. Holding their breath steady, right until the moment he came out and a .50 caliber bullet that travels at a rate of 853 m/s will pierce his forehead, gently penetrating his brain and finally coming out of the back. As he ran downstairs towards the main entrance, he would hear the distant sirens approach. He was sure it will be the last sweet noise he will ever hear.
Time went by slowly for the cops outside; they felt the cold sweat drip down their foreheads. The cold sensation and the smell of death in the air made them ponder. They had the power to take a life in a pull of their finger.
He took his lasts steps slowly. He marched with his head up high, feeling no shame. Dropping his shotgun, he took out both of his silver m92 Berettas, both beautifully polished and so clean. He was only a couple of steps away from meeting his faith. He took a breath and the automatic doors slide open.
Sean bravely lifted his arms and began firing, a rain of bullets that blocked out the sun decent upon him. Closing his blue eyes and every bullet that pierced his body felt awkwardly good. The bullets left permanent holes, and blood slowly flowed down being pulled by gravity. He dropped to his knees, opened his eyes that reveal a blue shatter sky, the last image he saw. He slowly collapsed whispering ... “forgive me, lord for all my sins…” Just like that Sean David Brooks was killed January 25 2007 at 10:25 A.M.