FanStory.com - Guttedby Brett Matthew West
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The loss of an innocent life
Brandon McCann
: Gutted by Brett Matthew West
Artwork by Lilibug6 at FanArtReview.com

Background
Brandon McCann vanishes while en route to visit his grandparents in Orlando, Florida. So, why are dead corpses suddenly popping up in three states?

WRITER'S REQUEST:

If you start reading this chapter, and decide to quite before you finish it, I would appreciate knowing why. My intention with this story is to make it book ready. Therefore, all honest reviews, even if all you do is answer that question, are appreciated.

I am not overly worried about how many stars you provide this chapter. I would really like to shake loose from the "good old boy" review system, and simply make this chapter the best it can be.

My reason for asking for this is because the reviews I have received vary a wide range from changing the location of the murder from the men's room to a boiler room, to the usual "great stuff". And, honest reviews help to keep my writing much more focused.


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WARNING: This chapter contains graphic violence as we delve into the twisted world of an insane pedophile. Aren't they all?

LAST TIME: Suddenly the door to the stall burst wide open! Rickie Wolford stood there with a sparkle in his eyes and evil on his mind. The boy screamed at the top of his lungs. To no avail. Nobody heard his wretched cries.

"Hello, handsome. You're so-o-o-o-o cute. Wanna play?" Wolford hauntingly asked the boy. He turned and locked the stall door behind him.

The bane for the preadolescent began. The knife in Wolford's hand eviscerated the sprout. He knew dessert was about to be served.

Word Count: 1,455

Member Cents: 1.02


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"Oh, my dear God, no! Somebody get some help in here now! The poor boy. He's dead!"

These were the grief-stricken words uttered by the hysterical old man at the Orlando International Airport. He'd been the only person to occupy the facilities after Rickie Wolford accosted the youngster in the locked stall.

In a mad hurry to exit the men's room, the senior citizen tripped over his own two feet. He stumbled forward and almost fell flat on his face. Somehow, he prevented the fall, caught his balance, and spoke these words, "There's blood everywhere! I've seen gutted deer look better!"

Two uniformed patrolmen raced into the crime scene. The old codger did not know how accurate his perceptions were. Slumped down on the toilet seat, the boy had been split open from his belly button to his heart. Blood ran down the sides of the commode and pooled on the floor at his feet. His pants legs were soaked in crimson. The officers gagged at what they encountered.

This was David Brewster's welcome to OIA. He'd come to the airport to interview Southwest Airlines flight attendant Becky Johnson in regards to the missing youngster he'd been radioed about. Brewster didn't expect to be drawn into a gruesome murder.

The chaotic noise grabbed his attention the moment he stepped off the elevator. He wondered if fate had cruelly delivered the missing juvenile to him? Although for the kid's sake, he hoped that wasn't the case.

Having ditched his blood-soaked jacket in the trash receptacle in the men's room where he'd committed his violent rage, Rickie Wolford stood off in the shadows admiring his handiwork.

'The kid had it coming,' he justified his actions to himself, 'he shouldn't have rejected my advances.'

Wolford got the boy to tell him his name. It was Joshua McGirt. That was the last pronouncement the kid made before Wolford cut his tongue out of his mouth to keep as a souvenir. He also amputated the boy's genitalia and shoved it down his throat.

Wolford treasured the sound of the name "Joshua." It conjured up strength and excited fantasies deep within him. So sad what he had to do to the corpse though.

'If Joshua had only stopped screaming,' Wolford declared to himself, 'he might have lived to tell about their chance encounter.'

That was the reason Wolford killed the boy, to shut him up so the loud commotion wouldn't draw an unwanted crowd.

'Stupid punk! Oh well. It is what it is and it's not going to change now.' Wolford vindicated his savagery.

More running feet arrived at the location. The men's room was cordoned off with yellow barricade tape marked "POLICE" and "DO NOT CROSS". David Brewster approached the mulatto stationed outside the doorway that led into the men's room. He had questions he needed answers to. There was no better place to receive that information from. On the security guard's white shirt he wore a brass nametag that identified him as Ezekiel Belvedere.

Brewster flashed his credentials so the guard would know who he was responding to. "Got a make on the body?" he asked.

"Young boy. Maybe twelve or thirteen. From what I've been told he's been cut up badly," Belvedere replied. Shaking his head in disbelief he stated, "no one deserves to die like that! OCPD's got a handle on it."

"For crying out loud," Brewster muttered.

Desiring to see the remains, he stepped past the guard and entered the men's room. He also had additional questions to pose to the on-site officers. It wasn't every day a boy was slaughtered at the airport.

Never insecure about the world he lived in, David Brewster did not break easy and he had his pride. Upon witnessing what he found in the men's room, this case became personal. Although he overstepped his jurisdiction, Brewster welcomed the challenge of bringing the crazed psychopath who rendered this violence to justice. He made a mental note to confer with the dead boy's parents before he left the airport.

An announcement transmitted over the intercom system throughout the terminal that said, "David Brewster, please meet flight attendant Becky Johnson at the Southwest Airlines courtesy counter."

Brewster heard the page loud and clear. He observed the dead body one last time. It was spread out on the linoleum floor ready to be tagged, bagged, and carted off by the Coroner's Office upon their arrival. He obtained the information he sought from those working the crime scene and headed back out of the men's room. Brewster walked past Security Guard Belvedere and located the Southwest Airlines courtesy counter.

Rickie Wolford detected David Brewster's actions. He did not know who Brewster was but something warned him to be very suspicious of this stranger. Wolford also noticed his jacket as the evidence was carried out of the men's room in a plastic bag held by a uniformed officer. It was time for him to leave, as expeditiously as he could, out of the airport. DNA, from his sweat on the jacket, would unquestionably connect him to Joshua McGirt's murder.

Joshua McGirt, and his parents, had been on their way to Disney World from their home in London, Ontario to celebrate his twelfth birthday with Mickey Mouse. Joshua always fantasized about the fun he'd have at the Magic Kingdom. He especially wanted to visit the Frontierland Shootin' Arcade, the Haunted Mansion, and Space Mountain. None of that would ever materialize. For Joshua there would only be a slow ride in the back of a long, black, hearse and no brass band at the station to welcome his arrival.

People like to pretend they are in control of their destinies. They aren't.

Cast of Characters:

David Brewster - Special Investigator with the Orange County Sheriff's Office Missing Persons Task Force. Known as The Bloodhound.

Becky Johnson - Southwest Airlines flight attendant assigned to escort Brandon McCann to his waiting grandparents at the passenger arrival gate of the Orlando International Airport.

Rickie Wolford - Convicted pedophile. Gruesomely murdered Joshua McGirt.

Ezekiel Belvedere - Security Officer stationed outside the men's room of the Orlando International Airport. David Brewster encountered him entering the crime scene.

Assorted Police Officers - Responded to the crime scene at the airport.

Unidentified Old Man - Discovered the mutilated dead body of Joshua McGirt in the men's room of the Orlando International Airport.

Mr. and Mrs. McGirt - Joshua McGirt's parents.

Recognized

Author Notes
Personally, I believe pedophiles are not able to be rehabilitated, and therefore should be permanently locked away from society, where they can not harm young children as depicted in this chapter.

OCPD - Orange County Police Department








Evan is growing up, by Lilibug6, selected to complement this chapter of my book.

So, thanks Lilibug6, for the use of your picture. It goes so nicely with this chapter of my book.

     

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