Jungle Giants exert

Act one: The Jaw Breaker
Chapter One
Neither a smile nor grimace reached the Jaw Breakers face as he slowly released the valve widening the contraption within the victim's mouth. Slowly the jaw bone released from the crevice holding its position and with a crunch, the recipients jaw regretfully gave out. The woman recoiled from the discomfort. It will be okay my darling, the jaw breaker whispered; his eyes glistened in the dark as he inspected his work. His gloves caressed her face, the form of her youthful cheeks were somewhat extravagant to him. She whelped in terror, trying to swallow but gagged, her eyes darted away from contact, unwilling to meet the man in front of her. `It will soon come to an end, like all must do, he reminisced to himself. The victim lay sprawled backwards on a dentist's chair, wearing a nursing costume and her limbs constrained by two frilled pink handcuffs. The room was dim with a single light source strategically placed above the chair. He towered over her with his naked and stocky build; the victim's eyesight of the room was construed by his circular belly, the two white mittens he wore and his erection. The Jaw Breaker giggled and brandished a knife from the shadows, expecting a reaction he eagerly looked at the woman in front of him. To his disappointment her eyes appeared skulked and diminished, disappointed the concentrated look on his face changed to anger, Where did your hope go? He spat. The victim remained quiet. Perhaps I will let you go if this is no fun so try not to break character, he bluffed looking off into the distance. The expression of the woman changed and she lit up at hearing her captive's words. It worked? What the hell? He pondered; perhaps the knife wasnt the only dull thing here, the thought left distaste in his mouth. She was different from how he thought she would be. You didnt think it would be that easy did you? he whispered before dropping the knife...
It had been no more than twenty minutes since the dentists secretary had alerted the police of her finding the following morning that Chief Inspector James Chester had arrived. His weary blue eyes glared in resentment at the dead woman lying on the chair in front of him. It had become an increasingly familiar site. Hes not getting any more creative, he sighed under his breath. His dark clad boots approached the scene, making sure not to impede on any of the victims reminiscence puddled on the ground. The beaming light illuminated his finely trimmed facial hair sprawling underneath of his convex nose that protruded from his face. He unfolded a scrunched piece of paper from his folded trench coat and started scribbling his first impressions. He paused for a brief moment looking at the dead woman, contemplated investigating further but the corpse was not going anywhere and the repugnant smell of blood and potency of bleach had filled his nostrils. He closed the door and continued back to the reception to the secretary slumped in the chair. Im Inspector Chester, could I please get your name? , Its Claire, the woman replied.
I hope youre doing okay, I understand this must be difficult... Is there someone we can call? Chester questioned trying to sound concerned. No its fine... I just, who would... the secretary, started choking up. Chester seeing her reaction intervened, Could you tell me in your words what happened? He asked. I just came into work to open the practice, like I normally do and, and she was there... Thats when I called you, then I came here, ` she said sniffling whilst her finger wiped a tear from her eye. Can you tell me who this woman is? He asked, the secretary vividly shook her head not wanting to talk. It was the reaction that he had come to expect a fight or flight response with the incredible amount of hormones and instincts surging for a response it sometimes could lead to temporary paralysis of shock. He knew the nature of this crime scene though, the unprecedented, methodical and heinous act in conjunction with the type of victim. It had been two weeks since the first murder with this exact signature, the culprit seemed to have enjoyed them self or the vast media barrage that followed. The jaw Breaker replayed across different news channels, each station claiming to have an insight on the serial killer. The thought made Chester glare; he knew that is what they loved, the role of a celebrity and the status of an antihero, the whole thing was romanticised for viewer ratings. This crime was about power, the young and successful women being taken advantage of, the role of submission and now the media affirming the Jaw Breakers actions, whilst pretending to care for the society's well-being. Shit he was caught daydreaming, the secretary was left staring off into the distance and the time left alone with her thoughts probably wasnt doing her any favours. About to speak Chester was interrupted by the door slamming open. A hunched figure, wearing an embroidered TPD blue vest and large unkempt beard marched into the room. Holding a coffee in one hand and the other on his gun holster, he looked as if he was carrying out a raid. Mornin Grey, did you get one for me? Chester exclaimed, hinting at the lack of professionalism of buying coffee on the way to a crime scene. The question was ignored as the bearded man continued to march towards the bleached red woman. He opened the door and peered in, Well this is a fucking mess isnt it?` he questioned, darting his eyes from the crime scene to woman in distress. Can you tell us anything that could help us find who did this? Gray asked. The secretary peered down at her feet, still quiet. `Well, shit remind me to come here to get away with murder, exclaimed Gray before closing the door. `I guess youve never heard of something called CCTV either, have you? He said peering into the corners of the room expecting no response. Chester glared at him, `I think youre needed elsewhere he stated looking through Grey. A brief silence filled the room, Just be sure to give me the report this time, James... Earlier this time he spat before marching back through the entrance. Chester knew the sour exchange was planned, in truth Grey wasnt needed there, the built frustration of the case had lead him to relish in potential moments of placing blame, that those affected should know more and he wouldnt skimp on letting them know. The door opened again and two police officers walked in with tired expressions plastered on their face. Perfect! `You see to Claire and you stay at the door for any unwelcomed visitors, said Chester pointing at the officers. Remember no comment if theres action outside... He exclaimed before the officers could respond. `You take a statement and see to it she arrives home safely, he ordered. The officers cracked into an attentive state, had they seen Grey leave only moments earlier they would they would not have expected their usual leniency. He approached one of the officers and said quietly, get the victims name and notify the family so when we get this body moved, I can talk to the family when they confirm her.' It was second nature to Chester, he was confident in his critical thinking and situational awareness. Had he thought the officers could contribute something beneficial to the situation at hand he would hear their concerns. In truth, Chester resented officers that took the job lightly. The lack of attention to detail, care for the work and compassion lead to under achieving officers and in Chesters mind an officer that didnt care for their work, didnt care for upholding the law, may be corrupt already. In this case Chester knew the assumption he made of these officers was a stretch but something he deemed worth noting. The TidalSprings Police Department attracted a lot of what he deemed wrong attention. He moved back to the corpse in the other room leaving the officers to tend to his favourite duty. The air wafted warm and weighed caressing his soft skin as to mummify it. Chester observed the glow of the light reflecting on the pale skin the of the dead woman, the radiance left a red burn travelling down her back before slowly transitioning into glowing white skin of her upper thigh. The white threads of her nursing outfit bled and had started to mesh around her skin, melding into a darkish yellow colour of pus. The womans head hung down the side of the chair, her mouth dripping blood that lead to a congealed pool that formed at the base of the chair. The victim's neck bruised and discoloured brown and black with similar but red bruises on her ankles and wrists. Chester moved to the where her head drooped, removed a plastic pen from his pocket and prodded it into her cheek. He tilted her head upwards so the light could not escape. He sighed, it was as he thought. Inside of her throat glimmering was a golden ring, a continued trend of a recent homicide spree he assumed to be symbolic for marriage or engagement. `Great, he shrugged, another at least twelve hours before he would be able to go home. The ring had confirmed his suspicions, now it was clear that everything had matched the signature of the serial killer. The infamous Jaw Breaker he thought, it was lazy craftsmanship but never less the motive seemed bigious enough. The targets of young successful women, the connection to what could be commitment, the ruined jaw, death by suffocation via blunt object, the facts seemed so purposeful Chester could see the Jaw Breaking killer already. The means of when the act took place and how the victim arrived at this destination also seemed ominous. Forensics would have to clarify if the victim was inebriated, however Chester had an irking suspicion the victim was abducted rather than persuaded. The marks around the victim's neck was something Chester had seen before and it did not seem to be consistent with that of a sexual act, but perhaps the means of how the killer abducted her. If so it may reveal the physique of the killer. Alas, he stood, pen in hand and wanting to come to some form of realisation. The kills though happening in quick succession seemed to have plenty of planning beforehand. The killer must know the routines of these women before abducting them perhaps?
He could hear some friendly chatting now from the reception, more officers must have arrived. Apart from be a pretty face and contaminating the crime scene there was very little he could do until forensics arrived, it was in his best interest to leave before something got out and the media would swamp the area like mosquitoes to suck his remaining sanity dry. He did a final check over at the woman in front of him. The scene seemed very peculiar to him. To establish the time of death Theo would have to examine the temperature of the body for rate of decomposition. Like a warm slab of meat, to accurately test for the temperature he would have to avoid the heated and glistening surface of the woman's back to avoid the cooked parts.

Chester was a collector of rare and expensive items. It came as a second nature to him that when driving to and from the precinct his eyes would eagerly observe the turn off between Harper and Manning Street. He smiled at the sight of the new stock and amongst it was something most special. A large bulbed object with a hot pink body and lime green thistles sat inside of a basket, no doubt the last one left. It warranted further investigation, it had been something he had only seen online; undoubtedly his mind must be fooling him. Fearing it was too good to be true he parked his car for a closer look. It was no illusion, the radish was there and it was bigger than the one he saw on his online forum. His mind bolted and mouth was trying to catch up with him, `How much? He spat. The woman behind the table slightly recoiled and then returned to her bored expression. She must have been in her late teen years, bleached blonde hair and she hugged her over sized jumper even when the sun was out. Two fiddy she replied, as she sniffled her nose. The interaction seemed more like a drug deal. Where is the usual lady? He asked. You mean my mum? She replied in a snarky tone. Chester paused and glanced at her; she did not look like her mother. Two hundred and fifty is too much, he said firmly, `no one has that kind of money, the price however was not unexpected. Well as you can see this is the last one, so they have done pretty well, she remarked. So that would indeed be the last one, I wouldnt suppose you just had more stashed away... Chester said sceptically. She didnt respond. He knew the crowd that would buy these kinds of things, if any of them had thought it would be the last one they would go as far to put a second mortgage on their apartment just to obtain it. Selling the vegetable would barely be safe if it hadnt been for the more elder cliental it attracted. `I dont have time for this, Chester uttered as he reached into the inner chest pocket of his trench coat and produced five crinkled notes. She smiled and happily snatched it from his hands. `Thank you! she said inspecting the notes against the suns glare. The transaction angered him. The oddity of vegetables was a bi-product of what was a dead and dry city. The pressure asserted from the fast food industry, lack of structural reform and price of food production and importation had swiftly destroyed the fresh produce industry. The large island city remote from civilisation was plagued with heat and moisture. The smell of salt wafted freely in the wind corroding metal and infusing with bricks leaving structures encrusted and weak. The islands inhabitancy had built narrow buildings and sky scrapers that patterned the terrain with neat squares of metal, with no room for parks, monuments or agriculture- the city had shrivelled up to a large rustic pin. Food was artificial and included sixty or more ingredients for a packet of crisps. Buying takeout varied between fried, baked or battered and undoubtedly contained the same numerous ingredients. Chester often wondered at what point people would be eating unlabelled mush out of a tube and compared it to the analogy of Choosing your poison. Choice had turned from too much of a selection to an illusion. Chester would rather spend fifty dollars on a home grown carrot. His senses would dull from days on end working cases whereby the unvaried and uneventful act of collecting vegetables kept his sanity in check. The superstition surrounding his great city had come to no avail. The Elburg Mine introduced fifty years prior encased various cold cases that still haunted the precinct shelves today. Tunnels leading five hundred meters deep formed a labyrinth underground of the citys centre. It scuffled towards the molten core of the earth with chambers, outdated machinery and discontinued elevator shafts. From what was made to spruce the economy turned to vast claims of paranormal activity, suicide, crime and disappearances. The mine was shut down due to concerns of lead and mercury poisonings that had plagued the miners involved. The story was reported worldwide as a phenomenon and it neatly placed the last nail in the coffin of TidalSprings. The island state was branded with stigma of the supernatural and corruption. Years passed and the state essentially turned into its own country with new federal legislation dictating trade routes and immigration. The occupants were given passports incapable of such migration for no more than a month to a handful of countries. With a distraught educational system, low levels of employment and an abysmal wage gap, TidalSprings was a manic destination of bliss and inferno, depending on your perspective.