Chewing On Glass Presents… See Through the Light Into The Darkness…

The body lays on the ground before me pale and mutilated. So, pale that it doesn’t even look human at first. She lays stretched out in a cross like formation. Her hands not nailed to a board, but spiked into the ground. Both palms and one large spike through the ankles. No blood lies in her palms. No blood at all on the body. Could that be why she is so pale? The body has been placed here. Left here naked and abused. Whoever did this didn’t care for her, but what she represented to them. Jealousy? Lust? Foot prints all around the body. Us, him, or them? Can’t tell until it is all said and done. Still processing the body. Could be hours before we could even begin to find out. Must assume that it is more than one. I don’t like to assume. Leads down the wrong path. Goes places we shouldn’t. Her hands are stretched out not clinched. No, other wounds besides the palms and ankles. How did she die where she didn’t cling her hands? Natural to close our fists in pain. Did she die in pain? Where is the blood and where did it come out? Arms are clear of track marks. No usual signs of drugs. Body covered in tattoos, piercings, and what looks like other body modifications. She had money or money to burn. The work is good. Not cheap. Someone would have known if she had been missing. How long has she been missing? Who is she? Rubbing my eyes and as they make that funny wet sound a voice brings me back to reality.

“We found her like this,” a uniformed officer says nervously. He is trying to not act as though he isn’t bothered by this. Playing the part of the strong cop, but no one is used to seeing this. Not even me I want to say, but keep it to myself. “Sent in a call to the F.B.I. and here you are,” the lead detective finishes for him. Here I am. This shouldn’t even be my assignment. This is my areas of expertise, but nowhere near my home office.  Of course something like this had to happen while I was down here for a seminar. Go teach a class on homicidal profiling, take a break from the field, enjoy the calm relaxing atmosphere of the south my boss told me. Now I’m stuck here for at least a few days if not until this is solved. “You don’t speak much do you? Quiet type?” The lead detective asks me. “Is this the first?” I ask ignoring his basic observation of me. “The first what?” He throws back at me. “The first murder of this nature? Nothing about this says one and done,” I say to him. “Oh, yeah it is. Ain’t been nothing like this ever done here before,” he says confidently. “I’m going to need you or the officer to reach out to the other counties and possibly the surrounding states to confirm that,” I ask of him. “I told you nothing like this before,” the lead detective says hostile. “Here, but there are how many other counties in this state or the surrounding ones? We need to know all the information that we can,” I inform him. He steps closer to me, “We are trying to keep this, this crime from the getting out. No one needs to know that this happened here. The town can’t afford such a thing.” The lead detective gives me a serious look of concern. “It is a little late for all of that,” I say to him. “You telling me a guy with your smarts can’t solve this all quick like?” He asks me. I can’t tell if he is being a smart ass or I’m hyper sensitive at the moment. “That is not how my job works,” I say taking the high road. “Sure it does. They say you’re like a body whisper or something like that. You’ve solved all kinds of cases and what not,” he rationalizes. “I helped solve all kinds of cases and what not. It takes more than one person to solve these types of murders. I need the information I asked for and I’m going to need a lot more than a body nailed to the ground to help you solve this case,” I tell him. “I’ll get someone on it then,” he says annoyed. “I’m also going to need every ones shoe print before they leave here,” I slip in. “What? In the hell would we need that for?” He questions. “Way too many foot prints around the body. Either you have a much larger team of forensic experts or there was more than one person laying down the body,” I say pointing at the grass around the body. “I need to go and finish out my assignment. Call me when you get the report back from the coroner,” I hand him my cell number. “I’ll place some calls with my department and see if I can’t find any more helpful information,” I finish. “Is that all?” He asks annoyed. “Yeah, don’t screw this up and be prepared to find more. If this is a local thing. It is not going to stop at this,” I say walking back to my rental car.

“See the way the bodies are arranged? It’s a message, a warning. These aren’t satanic killings. These are Christian in nature,” I point out. “No, good Christian would do a thing like this,” the lead detective objects. “No, but a bad one might,” I say amazed I even have to say it at all. It is shocking to think that even in this day and age it might seem to out of place for such a thing in the south. Religious extremist come in all shapes and sizes. “I’m telling you no one who believes in God would ever do a thing like this,” he says as though reading from a script. “Unless it was for a purpose. The bible is riddled with stories of justice brought on by violence. Every Christian church has a statue of Jesus nailed to a cross. Not standing next to. Nailed to a cross, hands bound, and a crown made of thrones placed on his head. This wasn’t the work of Satanists or the occult. This is Christian in nature. The only question in my mind is how many?” I lay out. “How many what?” He asks. “How many people are involved and how many more victims are we going to stumble upon?” My presented questions go unanswered as they should. “I’m going to need an APB out on nay traveling Christian groups, any churches with overly religious themes, and anything of that nature,” I say into the phone. “Hold on just a minute. Do you have any idea where you are? This is the south. You’ve just halted traffic from here to Georgia,” he says. “Good, then our killer or killers will have no place to go. We need to find them and find them quickly,” I tell him. “Agree, but there is no way this is going to happen. The state doesn’t have the man power to cover every road in and out of this state. They could be days ahead of us,” he says. The first smart thing he has said in all this time. “Well we still need whatever man power you have looking out for these types of people,” I say again. “I suppose I could lock down the whole state while I’m at it,” he says sarcastically. “If you think it will help,” I say right back. “I have to go. Call me back when you have the report on the body,” I inform him before hanging up. Walking back onto the tiny school auditorium stage I address the audience of officers once again. My mind on the case and my mouth reciting something entirely else. The sooner I get back to the case the sooner I can get out of here.

“Why her though?” The detective asks me. “Why not her? Is what you should be asking,” I say to him as we look at her body on the metal slab. “Said it yourself earlier. There’s not a girl like her for hundreds of miles in any direction. She is tattooed, pierced up, and most importantly different,” I say to the detective. “So you think because she is different she is a target?” He asks. “If we are to believe the religious nature of this killings and the others that might be connected, then yes.” I walk around the body and try to look at her from another angle. “Hold on, not this again. I’m telling you the killer ain’t Christian. No good Christian could do this,” he says frustrated. I feel as though this is a road block I will never be able to get around until it is too late. “You shouldn’t be even pushing towards this hunch of yours you got going,” he spits on the floor of the examination room, a nice big wad of tobacco and saliva. “I assure you I am not pushing towards the Christian killer or killers. The facts however are. Either the killer is Christian or they are a huge fan of the Bible. Either way we both can agree that they are not receiving the message.” He rolls his eyes, “I ain’t agreeing to shit. I mean who does this?” He points at the victims groin area. “I mean look at these pictures,” he hands me the photos. “What kind of sick freak does this to a lady? Even a lady like her.” I push the photo back, “She did that to herself or she paid to have it done. Cutting slits into the labia has become something of a fade lately. You can see this in that the skin around the slits is already scared over. This tells me that she was passionate about her body modifications and that is about it. Nothing else to go on about that.” He cringes in horror at every word that I say. He seems more visibly upset over the body mods than he did this morning at the crime scene. “People do this to themselves?” He asks once again. “People do all kinds of things to themselves. This is pretty new. Not a lot of people doing this. Most mods serve a purpose such as image or perception. This one in particular is private. Doesn’t serve an overall purpose that we could help us. Even if we tried to tack down where she got it done it would lead to a dead end,” I rationalize out loud. “I just can’t believe,” he says as he shakes his head. “There are so many things you can’t believe out there. Not important. There’s nothing here beyond the obvious. No finger prints, no semen, no blunt force trauma, and least of all anything to go on. We can wait for the toxicology report, but unless that comes back with some rare drug we don’t have shit,” I say frustrated. “So, we sit and wait then?” He asks. “So it seems,” I say. The door of the exam room opens and a portly man walks in with a clip board. “Did you get through the whole report?” He asks. “Skimmed through the bullets points,” I tell him. “Any idea why they would choose to drain all her blood through her vagina?” He asks. “What?” I flip through the report once again. “They wiped the area around the vagina clean, but when I was examining for trauma and semen that’s when I noticed something odd. It seems they didn’t want to disturb the outside of her body so they went from within. She had to have been drugged or dosed with something, but there is no needle marks that I could find. So either she swallowed something willingly or she sat there calmly as they mutilated her insides,” the pathologist say calmly. “That doesn’t make any sense,” I say. “Nope, most mutilations like that would have to have some sort of sexual element to them. She wasn’t a virgin, but it has been sometime since she had any type of intercourse. Obviously I can’t pinpoint an exact date, but it hasn’t been any time recent. This has some religious aspect written all over it,” he informs us. I look at the detective and he rolls his eyes. “I believe that too, but even Jesus went through hell before they placed him on a cross. So what was her crime and why not kill her another way?” I ask them. “Are you really questioning such a thing?” The lead detective asks. “Whoever did this is obviously sick,” he follows up. “Local PD,” the examiner says to me. I nod my head. “What the hell does that mean,” the detective says offended. “Nothing,” the examiner says. “I wish I could be more help, but this body is clean. Perfect almost except for the inner genitals,” he says. “So it wasn’t just one?” I ask. “Not even close. If I had to guess nailing her to the ground wasn’t the first option. I think they may have tried to first shove a stake through her, but it didn’t work out? Not sure. Whatever they put up there wasn’t very big. As I said she hasn’t been penetrated for a while,” he shrugs. “All I know is you two have your work cut out for you.”

The body lays on the ground before me pale and mutilated. So, pale that it doesn’t even look human at first. She lays stretched out in a cross like formation. Her hands not nailed to a board, but spiked into the ground. Both palms and one large spike through the ankles. No blood lies in her palms. No blood at all on the body. Could that be why she is so pale? The body has been placed here. Left here naked and abused. Whoever did this didn’t care for her, but what she represented to them. Jealousy? Lust? Foot prints all around the body. Us, him, or them? Can’t tell until it is all said and done. Still processing the body. Could be hours before we could even begin to find out. Must assume that it is more than one. I don’t like to assume. Leads down the wrong path. Goes places we shouldn’t. Her hands are stretched out not clinched. No, other wounds besides the palms and ankles. How did she die where she didn’t cling her hands? Natural to close our fists in pain. Did she die in pain? Where is the blood and where did it come out? Arms are clear of track marks. No usual signs of drugs. Body covered in tattoos, piercings, and what looks like other body modifications. She had money or money to burn. The work is good. Not cheap. Someone would have known if she had been missing. How long has she been missing? Who is she? Rubbing my eyes and as they make that funny wet sound a voice brings him back to reality.

“We found her like this,” a uniformed officer says nervously. He is trying to not act as though he isn’t bothered by this. Playing the part of the strong cop, but no one is used to seeing this. Not even me he wants to say, but keep it to himself. “Sent in a call to the F.B.I. and here you are,” the lead detective finishes for him. Here he is. This shouldn’t even be his assignment. This is his areas of expertise, but nowhere near his home office.  Of course something like this had to happen while he was down here for a seminar. Go teach a class on homicidal profiling, take a break from the field, enjoy the calm relaxing atmosphere of the south his boss told him. Now he is stuck here for at least a few days if not until this is solved. “You don’t speak much do you? Quiet type?” The lead detective asks him. “Is this the first?” He asks ignoring the basic observation of him. He has always been a thinker. Most people can’t take it, but he can’t change who he is. “The first what?” The Lead detective throws back at him. “The first murder of this nature? Nothing about this says one and done,” He says to him. “Oh, yeah it is. Ain’t been nothing like this ever done here before,” he says confidently. “I’m going to need you or the officer to reach out to the other counties and possibly the surrounding states to confirm that,” He questions. “I told you nothing like this before,” the lead detective says hostile. “Here, but there are how many other counties in this state or the surrounding ones? We need to know all the information that we can,” He inform him. The lead detective steps closer to him, “We are trying to keep this, this crime from the getting out. No one needs to know that this happened here. The town can’t afford such a thing.” The lead detective gives him a serious look of concern. “It is a little late for all of that,” He smiles. “You telling me a guy with your smarts can’t solve this all quick like?” The detective asks him. He can’t tell if he is being a smart ass or if he is being hyper sensitive at the moment this early in his morning. “That is not how my job works,” He says taking the high road. “Sure it does. They say you’re like a body whisper or something like that. You’ve solved all kinds of cases and what not,” The detective rationalizes. “I helped solve all kinds of cases and what not. It takes more than one person to solve these types of murders. I need the information I asked for and I’m going to need a lot more than a body nailed to the ground to help you solve this case,” He looks back down to the body. “I’ll get someone on it then,” The detective says annoyed. “I’m also going to need every ones shoe print before they leave here,” He slip in. “What? In the hell would we need that for?” The detective questions. “Way too many foot prints around the body. Either you have a much larger team of forensic experts or there was more than one person laying down the body,” He points at the grass around the body. “I need to go and finish out my assignment. Call me when you get the report back from the coroner,” He hands the detective his business card containing his cell number. “I’ll place some calls with my department and see if I can’t find any more helpful information,” He informs. “Is that all?” He asks annoyed. “Yeah, don’t screw this up and be prepared to find more. If this is a local thing. It is not going to stop at this,” He tells them walking back to his rental car.

“See the way the bodies are arranged? It’s a message, a warning. These aren’t satanic killings. These are Christian in nature,” He points out in the pictures. “No, good Christian would do a thing like this,” the lead detective objects. “No, but a bad one might,” He says amazed he’d even have to say it at all. It is shocking to think that even in this day and age it might seem to out of place for such a thing in the south. Religious extremist come in all shapes and sizes. He thinks to himself.  “I’m telling you no one who believes in God would ever do a thing like this,” The Detective says as though reading from a script. “Unless it was for a purpose. The bible is riddled with stories of justice brought on by violence. Every Christian church has a statue of Jesus nailed to a cross. Not standing next to. Nailed to a cross, hands bound, and a crown made of thrones placed on his head. This wasn’t the work of Satanists or the occult. This is Christian in nature. The only question in my mind is how many?” He says as he looks down at the picture in front of him. “How many what?” He asks. “How many people are involved and how many more victims are we going to stumble upon?” His presented questions go unanswered as they should. “I’m going to need an APB out on any traveling Christian groups, any churches with overly religious themes, and anything of that nature,” He says picking up his phone. “Hold on just a minute. Do you have any idea where you are? This is the south. You’ve just halted traffic from here to Georgia,” The detective laughs. “Good, then our killer or killers will have no place to go. We need to find them and find them quickly,” He tells him. “Agree, but there is no way this is going to happen. The people of the south may be cool, calm, and collective, but they are still human. No one is that friendly anywhere. Besides the state doesn’t have the man power to cover every road in and out of this state, and I can guarantee the other states don’t either. They could be days ahead of us,” The detective points out. The first smart thing he has said in all this time he thinks to himself. “Well we still need whatever man power you have looking out for these types of people,” He says again. “I suppose I could lock down the whole state while I’m at it,” The detective says sarcastically. “If you think it will help,” He smiles right back. “I have to go. Call me back when you have the report on the body,” He inform him before excusing himself. “I need to get back to why I am here.” Walking back onto the tiny school auditorium stage he address the audience of officers once again. His mind is on the case and his mouth reciting something entirely else. The sooner he get back to the case the sooner he can get out of here. “Why her though?” The detective asks him. “Why not her? Is what you should be asking,” He says to him as they look at her body on the metal slab. “Said it yourself earlier. There’s not a girl like her for hundreds of miles in any direction. She is tattooed, pierced up, and most importantly different,” He says to the detective. “So you think because she is different she is a target?” The detective asks. “If we are to believe the religious nature of this killings and the others that might be connected, then yes.” He walks around the body and try to look at her from another angle. “Hold on, not this again. I’m telling you the killer ain’t Christian. No good Christian could do this,” The detective says frustrated. He feel as though this is a road block he will never be able to get around until it is too late. “You shouldn’t be even pushing towards this hunch of yours you got going,” The detective spits on the floor of the examination room, a nice big wad of tobacco and saliva. “I assure you I am not pushing towards the Christian killer or killers. The facts however are. Either the killer is Christian or they are a huge fan of the Bible. Either way we both can agree that they are not receiving the message.” The detective rolls his eyes, “I ain’t agreeing to shit. I mean who does this?” He points at the victims groin area. “I mean look at these pictures,” The detective presents the photos once again. “What kind of sick freak does this to a lady? Even a lady like her.” he pushes the photo back, “She did that to herself or she paid to have it done. Cutting slits into the labia has become something of a fade lately. You can see this in that the skin around the slits is already scared over. This tells me that she was passionate about her body modifications and that is about it. Nothing else to go on about that.” The detective cringes in horror at every word that he says. The detective seems more visibly upset over the body mods than he did this morning at the crime scene. “People do this to themselves?” The detective asks once again as though the words are lost on him. “People do all kinds of things to themselves. This is pretty new. Not a lot of people doing this. Most mods serve a purpose such as image or perception. This one in particular is private. Doesn’t serve an overall purpose that we could help us. Even if we tried to tack down where she got it done it would lead to a dead end,” He rationalize out loud. “I just can’t believe,” The detective says as he shakes his head. “There are so many things you can’t believe out there. Not important. There’s nothing here beyond the obvious. No finger prints, no semen, no blunt force trauma, and least of all anything to go on. We can wait for the toxicology report, but unless that comes back with some rare drug we don’t have shit,” He says frustrated. “So, we sit and wait then?” The detective asks. “So it seems,” he responds. The door of the exam room opens and a portly man walks in with a clip board. “Did you get through the whole report?” The examiner asks. “Skimmed through the bullets points,” he tells him. “Any idea why they would choose to drain all her blood through her vagina?” The examiner asks. “What?” He flips through the report once again. “They wiped the area around the vagina clean, but when I was examining for trauma and semen that’s when I noticed something odd. It seems they didn’t want to disturb the outside of her body so they went from within. She had to have been drugged or dosed with something, but there is no needle marks that I could find. So either she swallowed something willingly or she sat there calmly as they mutilated her insides,” the examiner says calmly. “That doesn’t make any sense,” He says puzzled. “Nope, most mutilations like that would have to have some sort of sexual element to them. She wasn’t a virgin, but it has been sometime since she had any type of intercourse. Obviously I can’t pinpoint an exact date, but it hasn’t been any time recent. This has some religious aspect written all over it,” the examiner informs them off handed. He looks at the detective and he rolls his eyes. “I believe that too, but even Jesus went through hell before they placed him on a cross. So what was her crime and why not kill her another way?” He asks the room. “Are you really questioning such a thing?” The lead detective asks. “Whoever did this is obviously sick,” The detective follows up. “Local PD,” the examiner says to him. He nods his head. “What the hell does that mean,” the detective says offended. “Nothing,” the examiner answers. “I wish I could be more help, but this body is clean. Perfect almost except for the inner genitals,” the examiner informs them. “So it wasn’t just one?” He asks. “Not even close. If I had to guess nailing her to the ground wasn’t the first option. I think they may have tried to first shove a stake through her, but it didn’t work out? Not sure. Whatever they put up there wasn’t very big. As I said she hasn’t been penetrated for a while,” the examiner shrugs. “All I know is you two have your work cut out for you.”

“Why her though?” The detective asks me. “Why not her? Is what you should be asking,” I say to him as we look at her body on the metal slab. “Said it yourself earlier. There’s not a girl like her for hundreds of miles in any direction. She is tattooed, pierced up, and most importantly different,” I say to the detective. “So you think because she is different she is a target?” He asks. “If we are to believe the religious nature of this killings and the others that might be connected, then yes.” I walk around the body and try to look at her from another angle. “Hold on, not this again. I’m telling you the killer ain’t Christian. No good Christian could do this,” he says frustrated. I feel as though this is a road block I will never be able to get around until it is too late. “You shouldn’t be even pushing towards this hunch of yours you got going,” he spits on the floor of the examination room, a nice big wad of tobacco and saliva. “I assure you I am not pushing towards the Christian killer or killers. The facts however are. Either the killer is Christian or they are a huge fan of the Bible. Either way we both can agree that they are not receiving the message.” He rolls his eyes, “I ain’t agreeing to shit. I mean who does this?” He points at the victims groin area. “I mean look at these pictures,” he hands me the photos. “What kind of sick freak does this to a lady? Even a lady like her.” I push the photo back, “She did that to herself or she paid to have it done. Cutting slits into the labia has become something of a fade lately. You can see this in that the skin around the slits is already scared over. This tells me that she was passionate about her body modifications and that is about it. Nothing else to go on about that.” He cringes in horror at every word that I say. He seems more visibly upset over the body mods than he did this morning at the crime scene. “People do this to themselves?” He asks once again. “People do all kinds of things to themselves. This is pretty new. Not a lot of people doing this. Most mods serve a purpose such as image or perception. This one in particular is private. Doesn’t serve an overall purpose that we could help us. Even if we tried to tack down where she got it done it would lead to a dead end,” I rationalize out loud. “I just can’t believe,” he says as he shakes his head. “There are so many things you can’t believe out there. Not important. There’s nothing here beyond the obvious. No finger prints, no semen, no blunt force trauma, and least of all anything to go on. We can wait for the toxicology report, but unless that comes back with some rare drug we don’t have shit,” I say frustrated. “So, we sit and wait then?” He asks. “So it seems,” I say. The door of the exam room opens and a portly man walks in with a clip board. “Did you get through the whole report?” He asks. “Skimmed through the bullets points,” I tell him. “Any idea why they would choose to drain all her blood through her vagina?” He asks. “What?” I flip through the report once again. “They wiped the area around the vagina clean, but when I was examining for trauma and semen that’s when I noticed something odd. It seems they didn’t want to disturb the outside of her body so they went from within. She had to have been drugged or dosed with something, but there is no needle marks that I could find. So either she swallowed something willingly or she sat there calmly as they mutilated her insides,” the pathologist say calmly. “That doesn’t make any sense,” I say. “Nope, most mutilations like that would have to have some sort of sexual element to them. She wasn’t a virgin, but it has been sometime since she had any type of intercourse. Obviously I can’t pinpoint an exact date, but it hasn’t been any time recent. This has some religious aspect written all over it,” he informs us. I look at the detective and he rolls his eyes. “I believe that too, but even Jesus went through hell before they placed him on a cross. So what was her crime and why not kill her another way?” I ask them. “Are you really questioning such a thing?” The lead detective asks. “Whoever did this is obviously sick,” he follows up. “Local PD,” the examiner says to me. I nod my head. “What the hell does that mean,” the detective says offended. “Nothing,” the examiner says. “I wish I could be more help, but this body is clean. Perfect almost except for the inner genitals,” he says. “So it wasn’t just one?” I ask. “Not even close. If I had to guess nailing her to the ground wasn’t the first option. I think they may have tried to first shove a stake through her, but it didn’t work out? Not sure. Whatever they put up there wasn’t very big. As I said she hasn’t been penetrated for a while,” he shrugs. “All I know is you two have your work cut out for you.”

End Part 1

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