Body Of Scars

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

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A confused woman was hog tied and trying to regain consciousness. She laid next to a shower tub that looked all too familiar to her. "What is going on?" She said, as the dose of the tranquilizer she was injected with started to wear off. The woman began to panic as she soon realized she was unable to move and still was clueless on what was happening. "HELP!" She screamed. She had feelings that the person that put her there knew she would start to panic and came to conclusion that her screaming might never save her from what was going to happen. "HELP!" She yelled again, as she held onto a little hope of being saved. Finally the man showed himself, but she couldn't tell who he was for he wore a mask to hide his identity.
The man moved around blandly checking his designs for the style of execution that was to take place.
She saw that his entire body was covered in plastic. The fear of why he was covered in plastic made her feel sick to her stomach causing her to puke on the tiled floor of the bathroom.
The demonic man pressed a button releasing classical music that went through the woman's body, giving her an earthquake of a frightened shiver. He exited the room and left her there in an anxious anticipation on what was going to happen.
"What are you doing?"
The man paid no attention to her question and continued to walk out of the room. From the room he crept down the basement stairs where he had made a hole in the floor that led up to the cast iron bathtub. Underneath this square hole in the floor, was a gas burner, duck taped to the top of the latter, followed by a tube hooked up to a propane tank. The determined man had the burner on for hours and was waiting for the bathtub to hit a nice boil.
"Who are you?" The lonely, unaware girl asked, as she tried to figure out the reason behind the madness that was happening.
ONE HOUR LATER. The persistent man returned to see his victim was passed out from fear and his tub of water was boiling. He pressed play on a digital recorder.
"WAKE UP!" He screamed, causing her to wake in a startle.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Hello again. When you find this person you need not to worry if the human you have found had lived an upstanding extravagant life. For she is a very, very bad girl and deserves to die in an extreme course of execution. This one is called Boiling."
"Who are you?" She asked, sobbing.
"I am your judge, here to hand out your sentencing,” his eyes glimmered as he walked towards her.
















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CHAPTER FIFTEEN.


"Ready to move." The man said over the radio.
Ben and Frank looked on as S.W.A.T was ready to breach Fredrick Millan's house.
"You know why this guy was fired?" Frank asked, right before the raid on the house.
"He had a thing for freshman boys." Ben said, as he kept watch on the mysterious house.
"Jesus. Is anyone trustworthy these days?"
"I am, I think.”
“You are. To a certain point." Frank said, with a smile as he joked with his partner.
"Go!" Ben commanded on the radio, for he was in charge of the raid. "Lets rock!" Ben said, intensely.
"POLICE!" S.W.A.T yelled before smashing the front door in. Suddenly a loud Bang was heard right after they splintered the man's door.
"What was that?" Ben's question wasn't answered, leaving him unaware, on the walkie-talkie, running up to the house.
"Shit!"
"What the hell happened?" The two detectives picked up their jog to a sprint. Ben and Frank came to a sudden stop in the house, as they looked on intensely. The two of them stared at walls covered in blood, flesh, brains and a rigged shotgun that went off as soon as the officers busted through the door, blowing part of some man's head off. Ben stood there in confusion for a second, but then came to the understanding that Frank Millan wasn't the man who was responsible for the three murders.
"Looks like you guys won't have trouble figuring out who this is." One of the S.W.A.T officers said, as the body had a name tag on it. The name tag read "FRANK MILLAN."
"I want you guys to leave now. This is now a crime scene." Ben said pointing S.W.A.T out.
"Yeah no problem. Call us whenever you need us again." One officers said, sarcastically.
Ben and Frank began to examine the body and came across something interesting, as his shirt was half buttoned, revealing something on his chest.
"What is that?" Frank asked.
"Looks to be words carved into his chest." Ben began to read what was carved in the man's chest. "Even the land was defiled; so I punished it for its sin, and the land vomited out its inhabitants."
"Who is that meant for?" Frank was unsure of the intentions of the carvings on Fredrick's Chest.
"Everyone." Ben said. "He is preaching." Ben looked down in the man's clutching hand which held a digital recorder. "Another recording?" Ben loosened the grip of the man's hand to listen to the recording. "What's he have to say now?" Ben said, to Frank. Ben clicked play and sure enough it was the man himself.
"And I stepped foot in these two cities and saw nothing but wickedness. Sins were seen and were gone unpunished. After seeing the evil in the cities I was forced to destroy them. Leave now and don't look back." The tape ended, leaving the two detectives stunned and ignorant to the versus the man was reciting.
The Lieutenant stood outside, as they worked the house, sweeping it for anything, but as usual all they found was nothing, but blood and a recording. The detectives walked out and let the paramedics take the body.
"Nothing?" Lieutenant asked.
"No. Unless there is someone's prints on this recorder." Ben then handed the Lieutenant the bag they dropped the recording device in.


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CHAPTER SIXTEEN.



It was early morning and Ben decided to make himself a bagel with cream cheese. He used a serrated knife that was always left off to the side of the kitchen sink to cut his bagel in half. Ben placed the sliced bagel inside the toaster and waited. While waiting he watched outside his sliding glass door, taking notice of how cold it was, as the frost covered his wooden deck, along with the tree branches with dangling icicles.
A familiar cat appeared up on the deck to be fed. As his bagel sat in the toaster oven he opened the sliding glass door to feed her. he turned his back to get a pack of food for her and turned around to her no longer in sight. "Kitty!" Ben said, trying to get her back up on the deck. Ben wondered where she could've went, but turned his attention back to the smoking bagel in the toaster oven. "Shit,” Ben said, as the unwatched bagel had been burnt.
The cold winter air seeped into the house, as he left the door wide open. Something caught the corner of his eye as he threw his bagel on a paper plate. A strange man had just walked into the house. Ben was at a loss of words as he just stared at this man. The man was big. He stood around six foot three. Ben could also see his jean jacket, along with his jeans were filthy; it had also appeared that the man hadn't shaved in a couple days as his face was scruffy.
But the things that really stood out in Ben's eyes was a deranged look in the man’s face, snarling teeth and a box cutter in his hand. Ben knew the man's intentions was to do harm.
Suddenly Ben's brother came rushing to the rescue clashing with the man holding both of the man’s arms. Ben stood there watching as his brother struggled with the man and his weapon forcing both of their arms to rise in the air, both attempting to gain dominance. The man was pushed into a small island counter causing him to slip just enough for Ben's brother to gain the upper hand with the box cutter.
Quickly the brother took both hands to his one, with his weapon, forcing it up to his neck. The box cutter penetrated just under his chin. What happened next Ben would never forget as his brother forced the blade down the man's throat causing a large amount of blood to gush down the man's dirty cloths. Soon after the throat had been cut wide open the man dropped to the floor in a puddle of blood. "You okay?" Ben's brother asked as he turned around asking concerned for the safety of his younger brother.
A LARGE GASP FOR AIR Ben took as he awoke from a nightmare.
"What's the matter?" Laura asked
"Nothing." Ben said "Nothing at all." He said again assuring his wife that nothing had been wrong, but hiding a past memory that stays with him every night in the present. Ben got up and went into the bathroom. His shaking hands turned on the faucet filling a small cup of water and immediately pouring it down his dry throat.
He began to control his panic breathing as he looked at his sweaty face in the mirror.
Ben moved towards his bedroom blinds and looked outside to see the soothing night street. What he saw calmed him down more as snow flurries began to fall. "What are you doing now?" He asked, as the question was aimed towards the killer. He was curious on such a calm night, that there was still a serial killer most likely murdering another person in a way that piles on to his collection of nightmares.
"Are you coming back to bed?"
"Yeah... One minute." Ben continued to look out the window thinking how he was going to catch a sadistic murderer and save the lives of innocent people. He already has three dead victims on his mind and definitely more to come. The flurries kept gently making their way down to the street leaving Ben in a calm state. Even if it was for the briefest of moments, it sure did help.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.



"It happened again."
"The dream?"
"Yeah, the damn dream!" Ben said in frustration. Ben's leg was bobbing up and down showing his tense nerves.
"What happened?" The curious man asked.
"What do you think?" Ben asked sarcastically. "Man came in my house and destroyed my life."
"How did he destroy your life?"
"Well not physically, but the mental image he left of himself, his face as the blade went in his neck and sliced down, turned my stomach. The blood gushing turning his face pale white. Soon after that he fell to the ground in blood that seemed as if it was waiting for him."
"Go on." The man said, as he listened.
"And now I had to become a police officer who worked his way to detective. The things I've seen before this serial killer were almost like bearable. But now these bodies cause my nightmares to return even worse and all I can do is wake up and take drinks of water from the faucet."
"I can prescribe you some Xanax. It might help you with the nightmares."
Ben's cell phone started to ring. "Another one?" Ben said answering the phone predicting the intention of the call.
"Yes,” Frank said in a low tone of voice.
"Sorry, doc no drugs. I have to go,” Ben said getting up. "Don't worry you will probably read about what I'm going to have to see up close and personal in the paper,” Ben said, exiting the office.















CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.



Ben arrived on the crime scene to be greeted by Frank.
"I was suspecting another warehouse,” Ben said puzzled by the change of spot for the victim.
"Yeah me too."
"Whose house is this?"
"Lisa Peladine's house,” Frank replied, as the two of them walked towards the front door of the house.
"How was this one called in?"
"This one is good,” Frank said, with a smile, leaving Ben curious on what he meant.
"How so?"
"The neighbor called 911 around five in the morning when they got a strange knock at their front door. At the front door was a note saying and I quote,” Frank then pulled out a note that was left on the front porch of the neighbor’s house, “Lisa Peladine shall not speak falsely again in this life."
"Falsely?" Ben said, puzzled.
"Yeah and guess what."
"What?"
"She also was an employee of the same school as the other three victims."
"Had a feeling you were going to say that."
"Yeah, but she was fired for drinking alcohol on the job... Apparently she showed up to work drunk too many times."
"So how does she afford this house?"
Frank came to a stop as he was going to deliver potentially upsetting news. "This Lisa has a rich mother... The mother is some hot shot lawyer who we both know."
"NO..." Ben already knew the name.
"That's right, Benny... Nancy Fievararo... The same bitch that got that Francine Larue off for murder."
Both detectives had history with Nancy and Francine. Francine was charged with murder by Ben and Frank with upstanding evidence. Somehow the evidence was tampered with and she walked away with not even a slap on the wrist. Francine should have gone down for murder one, after killing her husband. Miraculously the knife she used to stab him several times with managed to slip its way out of evidence and never to be found again. Her story was a simple burglary that ended with one of the two masked men stabbing the husband to death.
"Well I guess I am not to upset about the victim today,” Ben said as he felt no pity, as his hate was so strong for Nancy Fievararo, it carried its way down to her daughter.
"So she kept the fathers last name." Ben said to Frank
"Yup..."
"Wonder why that is."
Of course as the detectives closed in on the house, they saw Nancy crying hysterical off to the side of the neighboring house, being questioned by police officers.
"Please,” Frank said doubting her sorrow.
"Another actress in the world,” Ben added, as they were watching her in enmity, as they walked to the front door. "What a slut." Ben had to add before entering the house. "I am ready to leave now and just say we didn't find anything,” Ben said, with the least bit of interest, in the victim.
"Definitely."
"Hate playing by the book." Ben and Frank stepped first feet into the home, leaving sight of Nancy. As soon as they entered the house, the thoughts of hatred went away, as the smell took them by complete surprise.
Frank gagged, as the smell was appalling. "Jesus! What is that stank?"
The two detectives walked further into the house; discovering a bath tub full of water, with submerged bones, toppled with remains of fat, floating stagnantly.
"This water had to be boiling for a long damn time!" Frank concluded, as the remains were liquefied, in the pale. Just chunks of muscle and layered fat.
"What time was that knock at the neighbors door?"
"Think five a.m."
"This guy had to have started boiling her at like nine p.m.,” Ben said, due to the separated muscle from the bones.
Each time they stuck their heads near the bath tub, to observe the remains, it caused them to get a whiff of boiled human flesh. Ben and Frank walked down to the basement to find the source that heated the tub. What they found was a propane tank, on a ladder; under the ladder and the propane tank was a perfect cut in the floor, exposing the tub to the basement.
"Where did he bring this thing from, home?" Ben asked, humorously.
"I bet no prints."
"Yeah. This guy knew what he was doing." Ben continued to observe. "Look at this thing,” Ben pointed at the steaming bath tub.
"Just big enough for her to fit in." Ben saw another tape recorder. "Of course."
Frank took the tape recorder off the book shelf in the living room and hit play. "Hello again. When you find this person you need not to worry if the human you have found had lived an upstanding extravagant life. For she is a very, very bad girl and deserves to die in an extreme, agonizing, method of execution. This one is called Boiling."
"Who are you?"
"I am your judge, here to hand out your sentencing."
There was a slight pause in the recording. "Are you ready mother?" He asked giving hint of a third party.
"NO! NO!" She screamed as the man dumped her body in the tub. The screams were heard perfectly through the ears of the detectives, and will be forever theirs to hold onto, as they looked at the after math, in the tub. After the screams came to a stop, it signified her life coming to a end, as shortly after the screams were muted, the tape recording session ended.
"Mother?" Ben said, looking at the tub. "Dust the bathtub and propane tank for prints!" He yelled.
The forensic team ran in and went to work.
Ben and Frank paced around watching them use their equipment.
"Oh yeah!" The Forensic man said. "We got a ton of prints."
"Get those down to the Lab now! I want those results in today!" Ben said as he barked orders.
Ben walked outside, as Frank stayed behind to wrap things up.
"Lieutenant! We got prints!"

BEN AND FRANK SAT WAITING FOR RESULTS AT THE PRINT LAB.
"I am going to get a cup of coffee,” Ben said walking away. Ben let out a huge sigh, as long period of waiting for a match to the finger prints had him extremely exhausted. He began to pour some coffee in a cup, but suddenly the process was interrupted by Frank Yelling,
"We got the results on those prints!"
"Whose?"
"They belong to Nancy Fievararo."
"Mother,” he said, completing the mystery of the third party that was present during the murder of Lisa Peladine.














CHAPTER NINETEEN.



Ben Chuckled at Nancy's face, as she had no idea what she was doing in a police interrogating room, after the murder of her daughter. "Probably wondering what you're doing here,” Ben said, with a smile and his arms crossed with the thought that, his opportunity for revenge had finally come his way.
"I have no idea what I am doing here,” Nancy said.
"We have your prints."
"Prints?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Nancy. We got your prints off the propane gas tank that was used to boil your daughter alive." After he said the words "boil your daughter alive." She was in tears once again and anger washed the smile off his face, as he thought she was acting, playing the role of the grieving mother. "Oh get off the act!" Ben slammed his hands on the table, causing Nancy to jump in her seat.
"You’re a cold man!"
"And you’re a murderer."
"I didn't murder my own daughter. You heartless bastard." She then returned to sobbing hysterical.
"Please,” He said, doubting her tears and affliction. "Well, unfortunately your words mean nothing, compared to your finger prints on a piece of evidence that was a big part in the boiling of your daughter!" Ben couldn't help, but had to laugh, after realizing what he had just said to her.
"I have nothing else to say."
"Good,” Ben then leaned down and said, "cause every time I hear your stupid voice sobbing, along with Your fake tears, it all makes me wanna vomit. I hope if that did happen, it would happen all over your stupid, ridiculous face." Ben then left the room with a smile. "Better get a lawyer, Nancy." A last word from the Joyful detective, as he left the room.











CHAPTER TWENTY.


"Well, it appears we definitely got one of the murderers,” Frank whispered, in the ear, of the other eager detective. Franks assumption was based off the fact that the murders had stopped after the arrest, and the charge of murder, to Nancy Fievararo.
"Has the jury reached a verdict?"
"Yes, we have your honor. We the jury find the defendant."
Ben was nodding his head, as he knew the words would be guilty.
"NOT GUILTY."
Ben and Frank were dumbfounded, in complete rejection, of what was just said. They both looked at her with thoughts of butchering, crippling her, as she received hugs from her family, and friends.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Ben muttered, to himself.
Nancy looked over at the two detectives and smiled.
"That bitch,” Frank added, as her smile had them both up very tight. The two detectives stormed out of the court room, talking amongst themselves.
"We had prints!" Frank said.
"That lawyer got the jury with that one statement." Ben looked at Frank, saying "The propane tank was stolen from her house, by the killer, to frame her," he said, quoting Nancy's lawyer.
"But the jury didn't think that, the whole time she was on trial, there hasn't been a murder since, which matches the past ones we've been investigating?"
"Don't you worry, we will be watching her!" Ben hopped in the driver’s side of the car, along with frank getting in the passenger’s side.
"Let's get a sandwich at that deli,” Frank said, as he shut the car door.
The car engine roared and the tires smoked; Ben pulled away from the court house, in rage.













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CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.



Slow, smooth jazz played in the background, as Ben and Laura were out on a fancy date night.
"Everything looks good,” Ben stated, as he looked at the menu.
"Yes, absolutely."
A fine gentlemen, with a white buttoned shirt, along with a black tie, came up, with a smile.
"Hi, my name is Brad. I will be your waiter today. May I interest you in some appetizers?"
"Hi, Brad." Ben said, mocking his posture and attitude. "I think we will partake in some appetizers tonight. What do you recommend?"
He then began to speak clearly and with an upbeat attitude. "Well the stuffed mushrooms are fabulous, with a hint taste of a fine aged wine and also I think the Asparagus salad would follow nicely." After finishing his suggestions for appetizers, he had a huge smile.
"Sounds perfecto. Bring us some of that ravishing food, immediately."
"Sure thing, Sir. Any drinks?
"Vodka, neat!"
"And for you, ma'am?"
"Just another glass of wine, please,” Laura was slightly embarrassment, after Ben's mocking tone.
"Sure thing, ma'am. Be back in a moment with your drinks." Brad left the couple at the table, still in neat posture.
"Bad day, Ben?"
"Why do you say that?"
Laura stared at him, as she was shocked that Ben was mimicking the poor young man that was waiting on them.
"Vodka? The mocking attitude?"
"What? I was just having fun with the little prick." Ben then started to pour whiskey in his water glass.
"What the hell are you doing?" Laura asked, not believing her eyes.
"Having a pre-drink, Laura." After informing Laura, he returned his sights on the whiskey being topped off in the water glass.
"How much did you drink before you met me here tonight?"
Ben stared at her with blank face and disinterest in her question. He took a big sip out of his whiskey and then let out an obnoxious sigh, as if his thirst was quenched.
The two of them sat through a rather awkward dinner, not saying much after Ben downed a fifth of whiskey and three glasses of vodka.
"Your check, sir,” Brad said, placing the bill in the middle of the table. Laura's side of the table was neat; almost as if it wasn't used. Ben's side was full of empty glasses that were full of booze, plates of food, types of gravies that were spilled and a stained table cloth.
"God, you're such a pig."
"Whatever,” Ben said, in no concern for her feelings. Ben removed a large amount of cash from his wallet. "That should cover it."
"Where are you going?" Laura asked, as Ben was just about to walk out.
"To the bar down the street." After he informed his wife, he began walking away.














CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.



Ben was seated at the bar, thinking of the case he had on Nancy. He was drowning his anger with booze.
"Another drink, sir?"
Ben looked up, as he was slouched over, in a sulky mood. "Yes," Ben said, answering the bartenders question. The bar was rather crowded with younger kids, as they were all glued to the television. Ben saw what they were looking at. He wasn't pleased by their choice of entertainment. It was a fight in a cage. The crowd of young kids, screamed and shouted for blood.
"Vodka on the rocks, sir,” the bartender said, handing the glass of booze to Ben.
"Thanks." Was Ben’s reply, in a low tone. He brought the cold alcohol up to his lips, sipping it, and bringing his eyes up to the screen watching the two men throwing each other around; punching, kicking in attempt to knock one another out. Ben then glanced down at his hand, looking at his wedding ring in deep thought. He wanted to feel love again. He wanted to love her, but the love, the happiness, had left his body and mind. This was so upsetting to Ben. He wanted to change the way he felt for his wife, but he couldn't. Whatever that was left of his marriage had ended, after dinner that night.
After thinking of the ring on his finger, his thoughts soon turned to more pressing concerns. His best suspect, which he had charged with murder, had gotten away with it. Whatever happened to justice? The evidence was clear as day, he thought. The jury was stupid. These are the people he was protecting from violent, sadistic, human beings? He began to hope they were the next to be tortured to death. His thoughts were soon interrupted by a voice.
"Hi."
Ben soon turned and looked up to see a woman smiling at him, with a certain eagerness about her. "Hi,” Ben replied. Ben was looking onto her with excitement. He saw the most beautiful woman that his eyes have ever set upon. She was about 5'6", with beautiful, big, brown eyes; big luscious lips, wavy hair, and an extremely fit body. He finally realized that he was staring at her without saying any words.
"What are you drinking?"
"Vodka, on the rocks,” Ben said. He began to become suspicious on why such a beautiful girl would all of a sudden spark up a conversation with him.
"I like vodka, but I love whiskey!" She stated, staring into his eyes.
Ben took a big swig out of his drink and gently put the glass on the bar. At that moment Ben had realized that feeling that left his body, suddenly came streaming back into him, like a volt of electricity. He almost felt guilty looking at her. "Who are you and what do you want?" Ben asked.
"Shouldn't you have asked: what my name is?"
"Sorry, what is your name?"
She giggles and then says "Nicolette."
"Hi, Nicolette. I am Benjamin," Ben said, extending his moist hand from the drink, trying to make up for his rude question. "Sorry for being rude. I just had a bit of a rough day." He explained, as she sat there twirling her finger in her hair. Ben noticed she looked at him with such interest. This made him smile and start to show a little more enthusiasm, from her presence at the bar. "Can I buy you a drink?" Ben said, finally breaking the silence between them, as before they were just locked into each other’s eyes.
"No,” she said, smiling, “I would like to buy you a drink."
This got Ben even more excited. A beautiful woman, probably the best looking one in the bar, wants to buy him a drink. He deserved it, he thought. "Thank you, Nicolette." With an unusual smile he watched as she flagged down the bartender to get drinks. The way she leaned over, as if it was extremely important to get him that drink. She even had her hand up to get the attention of the bartender. If Ben could describe her attempt to get them a drink it would be 'AGGRESSIVE.' He felt appreciated.
"Yes?" The bartender asked, as he finally came over to the dashing Nicolette. Ben then wondered, how could she have been ignored for so long, being as beautiful as she is? She ordered their drinks and sent the bartender on his way.
"You buy strange men drinks often?"
"Only good looking ones." Her response gave Ben great gratitude.
Ben was flattered by this dashing woman. He also saw that every time she spoke to him, she stared into his eyes. Ben was in a loss for words. He couldn't believe what his eyes were gazing at. She was glowing.
"You have such lovely green eyes." She stated, as she kept looking into them.
"Thanks,” Ben said, in a squeaky, nervous voice. She began to look down from his eyes.
"Your lips look so plump,” she said smiling, returning her eyes to his.
"Oh,” Ben said in a trance. He felt hypnotized by her. She then extended her hand placing it on his.
"Are you okay?"
"What?"
"Well, when I first saw you, you looked a bit depressed."
"Oh, that was nothing,” he made a desperate attempt to appear fine, brushing off the past, as he couldn't get over the person he was looking at. Ben saw that she hadn't even reached for her drink yet, but just stared at him the whole time. Ben finally shook himself out of it and proceeded on asking questions, as if he was interrogating her.
"What do you do for work, Nicolette?"
"I am a teacher."
"Where do you teach?"
"I teach over at...."
The school she spoke of caused Ben's jaw to drop.
"Are you okay?" She asked.
"Nothing," Ben said, tossing back the rest of his drink. He stood up saying, "it was nice meeting you Nicolette."
She stared on in complete disbelief, reflecting on the conversation, wondering what she had said that caused Ben to leave in such a hurry. "Was it something I said?" She asked, as feelings of complete embarrassment pulsed through her body.
Ben turned and replied "Yes." From that moment on, all she saw was the back of Benjamin Grossman exiting the bar.







CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.



Ben begins to quietly get into his bed, with the task of not waking his wife, who seems to be sound asleep. The smallest noise or jerk of the blanket, Ben stopped in hoping that it didn't wake Laura. With one leg in he quickly and gently slid into his bed next to her, letting out a huge sigh of relief.
"You're just getting in?" The assumed sound asleep body next to Ben said. "You smell like alcohol,” she said, in a groggy voice.
"Go back to sleep,” Ben said, rubbing her shoulder. A feeling of guilt came across Ben's mind, as he was imagining himself in bed with different woman. The name Nicolette, was bedded in his head. He lied there with a smile, thinking of how it would feel to be lying next to her instead of what was in bed next to him in reality. His sudden fantasy was interrupted by his wife's voice.
"Honey, we should talk about what happened tonight."
"Right now?" Ben was angered by her attempt to make conversation at this time, when he was drunk, and another human being, with the sweetest features was on his mind.
She jumped up in anger turning on the light switch. At that moment Ben knew he was going to get an ear full of more bullshit.
"Do you even care about our marriage?"
"Of course I do!" Ben said, but admitting to himself that it was a lie. He only said that so she would lower her voice, because the very sound of her scream was making his head pound.
"We need to talk!" She insisted, once again.
"And I will ask again. Do you mean right now?" Now thoughts of guilt flushed away with thoughts of violence. The action of choking her to death seemed to be appealing at this particular moment.
"Forget it!" She said, turning her body, switching the lamp off next to her, and plopping her head back onto her pillow. Ben knew that the anger of the conversation that just happened would keep them awake. He got up out of the bed that appeared to be his, but had a soul that he began to wish horrible things towards.
Ben found his couch in the living room and clicked on the T.V. He sighed, and thought about how much more of this was going to happen tomorrow. Maybe he should talk to her now, he thought. No, he said in his head. Tomorrow he will be at work and out of reach from Laura's constant nagging. This has been going on for to long. He hoped he would see Nicolette again. He hoped to come home to find Laura in bed with another man, as the scene of another man humping his wife would bring a smile and a reason to leave her without any guilt. Finally he realized that the relationship between him and his wife was completely lost.
He could compare their relationship, as one of the many women he found dead. The word dead, was appropriate for their marriage. Maybe there was something on his television that could cheer him up at the moment.
Flicking through all the channels, nothing seemed to suit him at that time, and he was wide awake, due to his wife's dopey scream. Even the word wife seemed dopey to him, when the name Laura was involved. Every conversation he had with her at this point was asinine. Ben came up with a solution while flicking through channels with no actual aim. He will just ignore her.













CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.



The ear piercing sounds of the office were going right through Ben's throbbing head. He knew he shouldn't have drank the night before, but the case, and his wife caused him to turn to the booze. He definitely established that he hated Nancy Fievararo more than his wife.
"Rough night?" Frank said, handing off a cup of steaming coffee, that was much needed for Ben.
"Thanks, man." Ben took a sip that made him come to terms not to ever take coffee for granted again. "Yes it was such a horrible night." He concluded.
"Wife trouble?"
Ben looked up at Frank with his blood shot eyes saying, "not just that, but the case too. I am just enraged! I can't believe that bitch, Nancy, got away from me again!"
"Jesus, man. I have been feeling the same damn way,” Frank said, sipping on his own coffee.
"Benjamin Grossman,” was yelled out, in the office.
Ben looked over towards the man yelling. "Shit, it's a messenger." Ben sat up in his chair and said, "Over here!"
"Here you go. Just sign your name."
Ben's pen scribbled on the paper and the man left extremely quick.
"Who is sending you packages now?"
"Shit, you’re not going to believe who this is from,” Ben said, showing the name to Frank.
"Nancy!" Frank said, laughing and intrigued by what she could have sent Ben. "Okay, Ben, whatever is in that box, don't get mad. Don't let this bitch fuck up your day."
"Too late,” Ben said, smiling while cutting the box open. Ben slowly opened it soon realizing what was in the box. He suddenly let out a loud scream "FUCK!"
Frank jumped back, as the reaction by Ben startled him. "What the hell?" Frank said, as he dropped his coffee from the shock of Ben's yell. "What's in the box?" Frank asked, the breathless and petrified man. Frank peered over and saw dark red mixed in with what appeared to be human organs. "Oh, Jesus Christ." Frank said, backing up. The whole station was silent, but they were all trying to hover over the box.
"Everybody move back!" Ben yelled, throwing his hands in the motion he wanted them to move.
"What the hell is going on?" The impatient Lieutenant yelled. The Lieutenant soon answered his own question, as he saw the pile of guts laying on the station floor. "Whoa." It was clear that even the Lieutenant was in a loss of words, when the best thing he could come up with was 'Whoa'
Ben began to sift through the guts, as he saw an object that was all too familiar to him. "Tape recorder,” he said, pulling it out of the mixture of human organs. Ben looked up at everybody and saw their eager eyes all on him. Ben, with a quivering thumb, pushed the play button. "This style of execution needs no explanation." Then there was silence. The man sounded, as if he found humor in the creepy words he selected to record.
"Look at it this way, Ben. At least Nancy isn't smiling anymore." Frank said.
"Nor is she alive." Ben said, as he still held onto the blood stained digital recorder. "This guy is going keep his promise."
"What promise is that?"
"Ten Bodies."



LATER THAT NIGHT...
Ben and Frank were sitting at a bar. Frank had just gotten off the cell phone. "The blood test came back..." Frank said, to Ben.
"Is it Nancy?"
"Yes, it is."
"She is an outsider,” Ben said, still trying to piece it all together.
"Yeah, she doesn't fit in with the school."
Ben looks around the vacant bar pondering in thoughts. "I believe that this man knew from the very beginning who he was going to murder and he knew how he was going to kill them. But his motive still eludes me."
"Ben. We catch them all."
In Ben's eyes, Frank was over confident. He seemed to have no idea on who they were dealing with.
"Another Vodka on the rocks, sir?" The bartender asked, Ben.
"Yeah."
"And for you, sir?"
"Scotch." Frank replied. Frank then chuckled saying, "Joe, you know us. Why do you keep asking what we drink?"
"Yeah, Joe?" Ben asked, in agreement with Frank.
Joe came back smiling with the drinks in his hands. "I know. I like to bust your balls, guys." With a large smile he hands them their usual drinks. "I have noticed you two have been in here a lot more than usual."
"We have a problem,” Ben said, to Joe giggling.
"We sure do,” Frank said, also laughing. "A killer problem."
They both soon turn back to their drinks and conversation. "So how is your wife?" Ben asked Frank while taking a sip out of his drink.
"Pain in the ass!" Frank yelled. "I come home late after work exhausted and she wants to talk. So, I tell her, NO. She starts screaming and yelling..."
"That is exactly the same as me." They sat around in the bar, laughing, drinking for hours. Suddenly the laughter stopped when Frank asked a question.
"What are we going to do?"
Ben still laughing said, "about what?"
"The murderer." A long pause came between the two, as Ben couldn’t think of a single decent answer to give to Frank.
"We could talk to everybody at that school." Ben suggested.
"Everybody?"
"What else could we do?" Ben then muttered under his breath, "What else should we do?" The silence between the two remained, as Ben stared at the bar floor in deep thought. The silence was broken when the bartender came over.
"Anything else?"
Ben looked up at the bartender. "No, Joe." Ben started to reach into his pocket for money. "Think I am going to head home to the wife," Ben said, with a sarcastic smile. "But this was fun. Should do it again tomorrow night," Ben said, laughing hysterically, proving that the seven cocktails he had were in full effect.
"Fuck that! More scotch over here,” Frank said, as he was going to remain at the bar.
"See you tomorrow, Frank." Ben turned his attention to the bartender, "good night, Joe."
"Good night, Ben."
"Say hi to the wife, Frank,” Ben said, wobbling out of the bar.
"Real funny, asshole." Frank takes a sip out his drink and immediately spits it out. "Ah! Damn! What the hell is this, Joe?"
"Johnny Red."
"Goddamn it, Joe. You know I drink Black label!"
Joe stood there without an answer.
"Take this shit back,” Frank said, while pushing the glass away.
Ben finally left the conversation when he shut the door to the bar, entering the cold winter night. "Oh, Shit,” A shock came to Ben when noticing the time. It was nearly Four a.m. Which meant he had about two hours to sleep and recover. His thoughts were now concentrated on his pockets, trying to find a smoke before getting a cab.
Cold gusts of wind, along with snow flurries, began to come down on the street. His wandering hands finally got his pack of cigarettes. A large inhale of smoke was taken, as he knew this could be the only time he would have peace and quiet through the entire night. He slowly picked his head up to take in the night view. It was the most beautiful scenery he had laid his eyes upon the entire week.





CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.



Ben thought he would just stay up for one last drink, as he sat at his kitchen table with a glass of vodka. Soon his moments of complete blissful silence was snatched away, as Laura came into the kitchen to observe the reason for the lights being on.
"You’re drunk again?"
"Buzzed,” Ben said, not picking his head up to acknowledge his wife.
"It's five in the morning!"
"Can you just take it down a notch?"
"No, I cannot take it down a notch!"
Ben began to grip hard onto his glass of booze in extreme anger
"You think you’re the only one who has to deal with stress? I have to get up and go to work just like you do! Not to mention I been waking up every morning early cause of a drunk husband..." Her yelling was cut off when Ben violently threw his glass against the wall. All that was heard was the shattering glass finally hitting the tiled floor.
"You hear that?" Ben asked Laura. Ben saw that he had her terrified by his violent actions, and was grateful of her fear; it might mean she would stop screaming... "Nothing." Ben finished. "Nice and quiet." Ben got up from the chair to fix another drink for himself. He gently poured the vodka in another glass and sat back down in his seat. After sipping it, he let out an obnoxious sigh. "Are you still here?" Ben asked. "Go back to bed now, Laura."
The frightened wife backed out of the kitchen and went back into the hall.
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