Bloody, twisted and dismembered teen bodies drifted pass his eyes. Once they were pretty, full of life and promise, but now, only shadows of their youth remained. Detective Marcus Simmons sat in his old Ford going over crime scene photos of past victims, as the cold November rain washed the dust off his cruiser. He didn’t bother turning on the wipers, they were six months past needing to be changed and would only make things worse.

A light appeared in the window of the warehouse across the street. In the deep rainy darkness of the night the pale glow was like a beacon of hope; a small sign that maybe man can break the darkness that has fallen over this once great city. Marcus smiled and checked his gun for the fifth time. He didn’t care about symbolism of light, only that one turning on meant someone, perhaps his suspect, was inside. Now all he needed was a reason to…

“AH!” a scream pierced the night like a sharp needle.

For a second he did nothing as the rain pelting the car once again took dominion over all sound. Was it my imagination? Was that really a scream? It sounded like a…

“No!”

Marcus threw open the door and burst out into the storm. There was no mistaking it that time. The voice was female. His years of experience instantly matched a young child’s face and form to the cry.

Please Lord, don’t let me be too late. Please God, not another one, Marcus prayed as he streaked across the lonely road. Training told him that he should call for back up. The law demanded that he announce himself in case his instincts were wrong. Detective Simmons ignored both of them. He skidded to a stop before the old wooden door that barred him and without a thought raised his size twelve shoe and slammed it into the door.

Wooden shards and splinters exploded inside as the old door fell before his need.  Marcus roughly shoved the remains aside and raced into the dimness of the warehouse.

“Freeze!” Marcus yelled before his eyes ever saw a target. So loud and so forceful was the authority and power in his voice that even the rain outside seemed to stop and an eerie silence fell over the scene.

All the world, except for one lonely yellow sixty watt bulb hanging from the ceiling, froze in place. Beneath that one light, the Detective’s eyes quickly found the source of the scream. He also saw his suspect.  Bare-chested, with his gray workman’s pants and dingy underwear circling his fat thighs, David Wilkins kneeled between two cotton white, thin legs that were bent in angles nature never intended.

“I…I didn’t do nothing,” David cried, from the floor as he stared into the black muzzle of Marcus’s automatic. But the Detective didn’t hear him. In truth, though his eyes registered the man’s presence, his mind was stuck in trying to grasp what should not be.

“Why?” tumbled out of Marcus’s mouth as he gazed in horror at the naked and twisted body spread out before David. He didn’t need to check the child to know she was dead, and as he felt his heart break, a small part of him was glad she was. He only hoped that she passed on, before the monster above her began his destruction. “What…what kind of man… are you?”

Warm, salty tears fell from a cop who had believed there wasn’t any more the city could show him that would make him cry again. As he pointed his gun at David’s head, it took everything he had not to pull the trigger.

David reached down and attempted to cover his blood stained member.

“Don’t you move,” shouted Marcus, as rage and spit flew from his trembling lips and splattered across the man’s face.

“Just… let me pull up my…” Again the size twelve shoe flew through the air; where before wood splintered, this time soft flesh yielded and brittle bones fractured.

David was too large and heavy to break into pieces, but he toppled over like a perverted Humpty Dumpty. His demented face slammed into concrete and his huge hairy ass rose into the air. Once more Marcus’s shoe flared. The shine on the tip briefly disappeared as it went three inches deep into a place where no sunlight reached.

“AH!” The man’s scream from the blunt penetration elicited a smile from the cop.

“Karma is a bitch.” Marcus raised his leg again, before the soft whimpers of the man reached his clouded mind. He looked down at the red and brown stain on his toe and lowered his foot back to the ground. “You…you’re under…arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything …you say can be…”

“Finish it,” David shouted and rolled over onto his back.  His nose, lips and penis were bloody from hitting the rough concrete floor. “Just kill me, man. I don’t want to live.”

“Oh, you’ll live you demented bastard, at least long enough to know what it feels like to be her.” Marcus tilted his head towards the defiled body. “They are going to love your big ass in state prison. I’ll make sure of it.”

“No…no…no, I won’t go to prison.” David sat up and stared at the Detective. A smile grew on his flabby face. “You know who my father is, don’t you? I know you do. I’ve seen you before. You have some idea how rich my daddy is, don’t you? Do you know how long I’ve been this way? Do you think that little bitch over there is my second tasty morsel?” He brought three chubby fingers to his lips and kissed them. The grotesque smacking sound echoed off the walls. David leaned his head to the side, his grey eyes never leaving the Detective. “Do you think you’re the first cop to catch me?”

“Oh no, you sick bastard.” Marcus stepped closer to his enemy. “You’re not getting off from this one. I caught you in the act, before you could clean up. The body, D.N.A., blood, and your fat saggy ass right here at the scene. I don’t care if you’re fucking Donald Trump Junior. You won’t walk away from this one.”

The smile on David’s face grew even larger, and be began to laugh. “Body…what body? In case you haven’t noticed, you have a gun in your hand not a search warrant, and this,” he raised his arms wide, “is private property.”

For the first time since leaving his car Detective Marcus’s confidence began to falter. His gun waivered ever so slightly, but that was more than enough for David to see. The smiling man winked and Marcus felt a new surge of rage.

“Yes, yes, now you’re getting it. I can see the anger in your eyes. Not so sure about that conviction now are you? But fear not detective, I don’t want to go prison or home. I know what I am, and I hate it. You don’t know what it’s like to be me. What it’s like not to be able to stop yourself. To be a slave to the beast that always hungers for more, more, more. Always more, always younger, dear God, I can still hear the babies crying as I ripped into them.” Hands the size of footballs reached up to his face. David screamed and blood rained down as yellow nails dug grooves into his skin.

Detective Marcus backed-up as his mind again reeled in what was surely the madness of pure evil. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone.

“Don’t,” yelled David, his face a mask of blood, torn skin, and tears. “If you call them, and arrest me I will get off, or at the least I will bail out, no matter the cost. And when I’m free, I’ll do it again. I swear before God, I’ll do it again, and I’ll do her nice and slow just for you.”

“What…what do you want?”

“Peace. I want to be free.”

“Then kill yourself, you fucking bastard.”

David laughed again, and shook his head. “You would like to see that wouldn’t you. I think you are a little evil yourself. We both don’t mind seeing death.”

“Enough talk. You want to die. Walk outside and lay in the road. I’ll say you ran out. Nothing I could do.”

“Ha, you are evil; you just play for a different team. But no, you have to be brave to do that. Look at me. Look at my victims. See any courage there? If I was a sick dog, dying and in pain wouldn’t you give me peace? Wouldn’t you? How many times have you thought of me as a sick animal? It’s a small act of kindness, one soldier to another. I’m tired of the war. I know you understand that.” He looked over to the girl's body. "I still want her, even now. I bet she's still warm."

Marcus's eyes grew wide as he saw the unthinkable begin to rise between David's flabby legs. "Dear Lord..."
****

By morning the rain had stopped, and the crime scene investigators swarmed through the warehouse like roaches in the light. Detective Simmons stood alone with his thoughts, and watched the sun rise.

“We’re done here, Detective.” The Captain shifted from one foot to the other. “It’s only preliminary, but from what we can tell, it was a good shoot. You clearly didn’t have a choice. There was no way you could know the girl was already dead. We’re taking both bodies now. I suggest you go home and get some rest.”

The Captain patted him on the shoulder and then walked away. Marcus looked to the changing sky and wondered if he would be shown the same kindness when his time came. Probably not.