The Face-Off Killer #7

Gina Coleman walked along the dimly lit road to the Fairhall Dormitory on the Boston University campus. Her steps were quick and decisive as she tried to make it to the dorm as soon as possible; evening wasn't a good time for young women to be up and about alone. Usually Gina returned to her room before nightfall, but that day she had to stay behind late at the School of Medical Sciences to finish some academia related work. She and her friends, like hundreds of female students before her, had written to the university authorities asking for better lighting of the streets in the campus vicinity, because of past incidents of violence against women. The petitions were to no avail- therefore the girls had to take responsibility for their own safety.
Gina thought she heard footsteps behind her. She stopped in her tracks and looked around, searching for the source of the noise. The road was deserted and surrounded by trees and bushes. The only sound Gina could hear was the chirping of the insects and other insects.
Gina mustered up her courage, tried not to get scared, recalled that the dorm was only 10 minutes from here, and started walking again, pulling her heavy bag closer.
She thought she heard footsteps behind her again. She stopped yet again and looked behind her.
"Hello?" she said, trying to sound curious rather than nervous. The road was deserted. Gina felt the hair on her neck stand up- the sensation of being watched by an unseen entity overwhelmed her and heightened her nervousness.
Being a Neuroscience and Behavioral Psychology student, Gina knew what physiological processes her body was undergoing to adapt her to possible danger in her current situation-walking a lonely stretch of road at might. Somehow rationalizing her fear and paranoia through scientific knowledge made her feel better and less scared, and her mind told her body to stay in motion. She took a deep breath, and started walking again.
A few seconds later she heard footsteps yet again...except this time they were right behind her, and she knew someone was chasing her.
Before she had time to fully register the danger, a hand firmly lodged itself over her mouth, cutting off her scream, and another grabbed her by the waist. She fought and struggled with both of her hands and legs, before inhaling the chloroform that started to anesthetize her and made her cease fighting.
Her attacker lifted her bodily, and slumped her over his shoulder. Then he hightailed it out of there.

         *********

Ansen Cole and Lance Carter sat in the AV Lab, on their tenth cup of cold coffee, watching the video footage from the ATM camera. They still hadn't narrowed down a possible suspect- thousands of people had been on that street the day Danna McBride's body was discovered, and it was nearly impossible to narrow down a possible suspect.
"Hey...Cole...rewind the video again!" Carter suddenly yelled, making Cole nearly jump out of his skin and spilling a bit of the coffee in his own hand.
"What? You saw something?" Cole asked, nonplussed.
"Yes...yes, rewind the video please!" Carter said again, nearly falling from his seat in excitement, his eyes the size of tennis balls.
"Okay...tell me where to pause," Cole replied, and taking the remote, started rewinding the video.
"Stop...right there! Do you see that guy?" Carter said, pointing to the plasma TV eagerly.
"What guy? Where?" Cole asked.
"The one standing under the awning of the antiques shop, right next to the alleyway. He's wearing a blue polo shirt, a brown jacket and blue denims, and a cap on his head!" Carter replied.
Cole tried to locate the man Carter was talking about, and found him soon enough. The red cap was obscuring part of his face, but still, it was a score.
"Let's play the video again, and find out where he came from, what he did here and where he went off to," Ansen said, now sharing Carter's enthusiasm.
Ansen pushed Rewind, and they saw the camera capture their guy coming in from the left side...right around from the street where Cole had been with his girlfriend to collect the cake that very afternoon. The man went to stand in front of the shop, and subtly, from his position, tried to recon the area around the alleyway. Soon, he turned right again and stood at the mouth of the alley, took out his phone and seemed to be busy with it. But Cole and Carter could clearly see that the man's attention was fixated on the alley- his face was turned that way while his hands worked on the phone.
A few minutes later, he turned on his heel and walked back the way he had come. In this whole charade, nobody paid attention to him or turned to look twice in his direction. He was the perfect predator, camouflaging his movements and reaching his murderous goals while successfully remaining inconspicuous, Cole thought.
"Did you see that?" Carter asked.
"Yup...I did. The bugger didn't bother to look up, unfortunately, or we could have seen his face. Anyways, we got something. I'll print out snapshots of the man's every moment on this film," Cole said.
after he had taken the print-outs, they began to watch the video again, looking for the man's reappearance in the video. They didn't find anything till the footage had reached that of late evening.
This time it was Cole who spotted the anomaly.
"See the dark van that just pulled up near the sidewalk?" Cole yelled, pausing the video and rewinding it.
"Yes! A dark van is the perfect camouflage during evening time. No one would notice it in the dark! But it's parked right in front of the alley. Shit!" Carter exclaimed.
"Have patience! Let's watch the rest of it," Cole said.
Cole allowed the video to play forwards, and a few minutes later, they saw a figure in a dark jumpsuit, with its back to the camera, carrying a black trash bag into the alleyway.
"That's him!" Carter said.
"Yes. Carrying Danna's body like a sack of potatoes," Cole replied. He didn't know whether to feel excited or mortified.
A few minutes later, the figure came out of the alley, sans the bag, and this time he was facing the camera.
"So he wears a jumpsuit and ski-mask," Ansen observed.
"And drives a dark SUV," Carter observed.
"I'll print out these photos as well. The Lieutenant will be so glad," Ansen said.

The Face-Off Killer #6

"So did you get everything?" Lance Carter asked his partner, Ansen Cole, as he entered the Audio-Visual lab of the Boston CSI HQ.
"Yeah. Burgers, coffee, sandwiches and bagels. We are ready to pull an all-nighter," replied Cole, lugging packets of food and two huge Styrofoam cups of cold coffee in his hand.
"Oh good! There...let me give you a hand," Carter said.
Five minutes later the two men were settled firmly in front of the huge plasma monitor where the videos for analysis were viewed.
"We have about 24 hours of real time video footage to view," Carter spoke, sipping his coffee.
"I know. So let's get started," Cole replied. He switched the screen on with the remote.
"Let the movie begin," Cole said.
   *********
"Those freaking bastards!" Lt. Will Masters muttered, as he sat in his cabin reading the newspaper.
A particularly disturbing article, which painted the Boston police in a very, very unflattering light, had appeared on the front page.
The Face-Off Killer strikes again; Police still clueless
Boston: In another shocking discovery on Tuesday, the police discovered a body, apparently that of a woman, with the face ripped off. The victim is said to be college student Danna McBride. She's the second woman to be killed by this Face-Off killer. But the police, as of yet, have no clue so as to who, or why, is committing these gruesome murders. They don't even have a suspect in custody till now. There is a fear psychosis developing in the minds of Boston denizens now. There is only one question on everyone's minds and lips- is Boston under the siege of a psychotic serial killer right now? Are the women of this city safe? The police seem to be tight-lipped on the topic. The public needs some kind of an assurance; and some tips so as to what to and what not to do in these troubling times.
Lieutenant Will Masters has been unavailable for comments.

"Fear psychosis my foot! You morons are the one spreading the fear psychosis among the public to sell your newspapers!" Will exclaimed, exasperatedly.
There was a series of loud knocks on the door.
"Come in," Will said.
"Everything okay, boss?" Officer Natalie Dunham entered the room.
"No. Not okay! These media idiots think they can tell us how to do our jobs! As if!" Will said, angrily.
"What happened?"
Will showed Natalie the newspaper article about the Face-Off Killer.
"So now they've given him a name! What an honor for the killer! This is how such people feel glamorized and encouraged to kill more," Natalie observed, reading the article.
"I've no idea what to do, Officer. How can we tell the people how to protect themselves when we don't know anything about the killer?" Will asked.
"I am at a loss too, Lieutenant," Natalie replied.
                            ***********
He stood at the arched entrance to the university campus, pretending to be a student reading a book and enjoying the outdoors. Actually he did have to study for an upcoming test, but this wasn't the time to do that. This was the time to hunt for new prey. The prey which would give him his Azalea.
Suddenly, he saw a group of girls go by. The one who interested him stood in the center. A young, luscious blonde with a curvaceous figure, dressed in a tank-top and jeans.
He felt a strange stirring in his loins. He had to have her, soon. She was his Azalea.

The Crimocopoiea: The Face-Off Killer #5

The Crimocopoiea: The Face-Off Killer #5: Detective Ansen Cole was sitting in his car parked near the sidewalk on Wilson Street. The corner alley where the latest victim...

The Face-Off Killer #5

Detective Ansen Cole was sitting in his car parked near the sidewalk on Wilson Street. The corner alley where the latest victim of the Face-Off Killer had been found was only a few steps away. Try as he might, Ansen couldn't dismiss this detail from his mind as he looked out of the window, waiting for his girlfriend Miranda to get back from the bakery with a giant cake order for a friend's birthday.
Ansen suddenly had an urge to revisit the crime scene again. The murders were fresh on everyone's mind lately, and Ansen, being the first responding officer to the first murder, was caught up in the frenzy too. He wanted badly to catch the bastard who was killing and defacing innocent women. He was spending a lot of time thinking about it...this was a perfect opportunity to try and get some insight in the case.
Ansen got out of the car, locked it, and first looked in at the glass-fronted bakery. Miranda was busy deciding the kid of cake she wanted. Knowing her, Ansen figured he had about 10-15 minutes to kill before they could go on home. So he walked up to the alley again, and stood at its entrance. He scrutinized his immediate surroundings, trying to notice anything which stood out while shielding his eyes from the hot sun.
Suddenly he noticed it. Right across the street, from where he was standing. Why hadn't he noticed it before? It was there, all the time- the possible opening that may help the Boston police crack the case, even if it helps a little.
Right across the street was an ATM. Outside the ATM, a little above the huge neon signboard for the ATM, was a CCTV camera. It was, of course, kept there for security reasons. Ansen knew that the CCTV camera had a range where it could sweep a 180 degree area, including the front and both flanks of the street outside the ATM, every few seconds. Which meant that the camera's range included the sidewalk on the opposite side of the road. Couldn't the camera have captured the killer the previous evening? If they could get the footage...
Excitement flooded Ansen's body, sent a tingling sensation down his spine and made his breathing quicker- finally a breakthrough. He immediately proceeded to call Lance Carter and tell him the good news. Of course, it would mean ditching the 'day out' with his girlfriend and going back to the police station, but Ansen knew Miranda would understand.
                                           *********
Lieutenant Will Masters of the Boston PD Homicide sat in his office, feeling a mixture of empathy and chagrin. The cause of his state was Mrs. Lizzie McBride, the mother of Danna McBride, the latest murder victim of what was increasingly being known as the 'Face-Off Killings'. He had called Lizzie to the station to talk about her daughter's death- the part of his job that Will both hated and dreaded. He always felt so helpless before the grieving kin of the victims- he wished he could do something to alleviate their pain.
"Are you okay, Mrs. McBride?" he asked the stately woman seated in front of him.
"I'm ok, Lieutenant. It's just that...you don't get called everyday to the police station to answer questions about your daughter's death," she replied, her voice even.
Masters felt another stab of pain at this statement. He and Lizzie both were trying to make sense of Danna's wanton murder...but Masters wondered if murder of innocents had any sense to be made at all.
"I just wanna ask some questions about Danna that might help me catch her killer, Mrs. McBride," Will said, kindly.
"Please go on, Lieutenant," Lizzie replied, not showing any external signs of grief.
"Was Danna acting differently in the days before her death? Anything you might have noticed?" Will asked.
"No, Lieutenant. Danna was fine. We were very close, Danna and me. She would tell me everything- parties, girls, boyfriends, clothes, her academic experiences- everything. I would've known if something was wrong. In fact, Danna was pretty excited about an upcoming function where she was going to be felicitated for her research papers. That's why she went to the sale at the mall, hoping to get some branded clothes to wear for the occasion at a cheap price. The same evening when she..." Lizzie stopped speaking.
"So you don't suspect anyone in Danna's murder?"
"No. Danna was well-liked among friends and peers. She wasn't popular, but people adored her for her simple, earthy nature and good character. Enemies? I don't think so. I can't fathom why anyone would wanna kill my daughter," Lizzie replied.
Will felt his phone buzz in his pocket.
"Will you excuse me a second, Mrs. McBride?" he asked her, kindly.
She nodded in reply.
He fished out his phone, and accepted the call seeing that the caller was Ansen Cole.
"Yes, Detective Cole," he spoke, in a low and somber voice.
"Oh really? What is it?"
"That's great. Come to the station ASAP ans we'll chart our future course of action," Will replied, and hung up.
His favorite cop, Ansen Cole, had made a possible break in the case. Will could feel his hair stand on end- he was so excited. He wished he cold share the news with Danna's mother, but he knew he couldn't talk about the case to her; plus it was too early to say anything concrete about the new lead.
Will couldn't wait to see the surveillance videos, and if they had the bastard killer on tape.

The Face-Off Killer #4

Nobody saw the dark van pull at the mouth of an alley on the corner of Wilson Street and Twine Street. It was already dark, and people were rushing about, rushing home from work or last-minute shopping. Nobody saw a figure clad totally in a black jumpsuit get out of the van. Nobody saw the person open the rear door and drag out a dark plastic bag, then throw it on the ground.
From behind the ski-mask on his face, he looked about checking for any curious eyes fixated on him. Not finding any, he proceeded with his job. Dragging the plastic bag behind him, he stepped into the alley. He realized he could've come at a later time, eliminating the need for discretion. Next dump-site wouldn't be an alleyway, he decided.
He dragged the bag deeper into the alleyway, and stopped when he'd reached the dead end. Undoing the knot at the top, he let the bag fall and watched as a hand slid out of the bag. He proceeded to drag more than half of the body attached to the bag- he didn't feel like taking the garbage bag with him that night.
He positioned the body a certain way, stopped for only a few seconds to check out his handiwork. He fished out a can from his trouser pocket, and sprayed it over the Dumpster behind the body. Smiling at the perfect tableaux he had managed to create, he walked back to his car. He needed a nice dinner and cold beer before his night shift at the hospital.
Nobody saw him get back into the van and drive away.

2 hours later

The man stood at the mouth of the alley, considering his options. The street was empty, except for a few cars  on the road. This was the right time to do what he wanted to do, away from the judgmental eyes of other people.
He stepped into the alley, when, only a few steps later, the smell hit him. It was different than the usual smell of urine and garbage characteristic of such places.
"Holy shit! A rat die here or what?" he exclaimed, scrunching his nose and taking out the roll of cocaine from his pocket. Smell or no smell,  he had to get his high here.
He walked towards the huge Dumpster which he planned to use as a support, when suddenly his foot hit something solid and he fell down.
"What the hell!" he muttered, as the smell of something rotting hit him so strongly it made him gag. He moved his hands about, trying to get his bearings in the pitch dark surrounding him. And touched something both smooth and solid. First it felt like a hand, then a neck.
He quickly withdrew his hands, somehow managed to sit up straight and fished out his phone from his pocket. He unlocked it, and by the light it emitted, he tried to see what it was that he had fallen on.
Bit by bit, he made out legs, a torso, hands and then he made out a face. Which is when he screamed his guts out.

Fifteen minutes later

"You get any sleep before you came?" Detective Carter asked his partner Ansen Cole as he arrived in his car.
"Nah! Just hit the sack when I got the news. So, is it our missing woman from the mall?" Ansen replied, holding a Styrofoam cup in his hand.
"Don't know. Face missing but it's a woman all right. Will know more when Dr. Styles is done with her," Lance Carter replied.
"Great. So we basically have nothing to go on right now," Cole said warily, taking a sip from his cup.
"No. So we'll just hang out at the station all night, waiting for any other crimes on our watch," Carter replied.
Cole looked at the stretcher being carried into the coroner's van by the people in blue overalls. He wondered  who was killing these women, and how many will have to die in this manner before they could catch him.
"Oh, the message from the last time was here this time too. Same damn message," Carter said.
"Great. At least we know this is the same guy who killed Ashley Browne," Ansen observed.
"Yeah, and he's probably on the look-out for his next while we chase our tails here," Carter commented.

The Face-Off Killer #3

Detectives Ansen Cole and Lance Carter stood in the cold, sterile autopsy room in the basement of the CSI headquarters. In front of them, on a gurney, lay the body of Ashley Browne, the first victim of a bizarre murder involving slashing of vital arteries and peeling off the facial skin. Across from them stood the portly coroner, Dr. Styles, explaining the autopsy details.
"The death resulted from slashing of the radial and carotid arteries, and the resulting exfoliation. The facial skin was peeled off postmortem. It has been done perfectly, with a surgical precision, so the killer has done this before. The victim had been tortured before she was killed, as is evident by the numerous lacerations on the body. There is evidence of repeated sexual assault. Also, she was bound with something like aluminium cords, as evidenced by the ligature marks on the hands and feet," the doctor spoke without pause.
"If the face was peeled off perfectly, it means that our killer is a professional. Might be a medical professional- like a surgeon?" Ansen asked.
"Yes, it is possible, Detective," Dr.Styles replied.
Lance felt his pager vibrating, and immediately took it out of the small pouch attached to the waistband of his trousers.
"Oh God!" he exclaimed, looking at the text on the small blue screen.
"What happened?" Ansen asked his partner.
"Another woman has gone missing from a mall. Her family just reported her disappearance," Lance replied.
"Let's go. Thank you, Dr.Styles," said Ansen Cole, and both men rushed out of the autopsy room.
"Most welcome, Detective," Dr. Styles said to their retreating backs.


**********
"Please...leave me alone. Please..." the woman spoke in between tears, as she struggled to set herself free from the ropes binding her tightly to the bed.
"You see, my darling Azalea, I can't do that! I can't let you go again!" he replied, walking about his workshop, collecting his 'tools', the ones he would use on 'Azalea'.
"I'm not Azalea...I'm Danna. Danna McBride. puhleessss...let me go. I promise not to tell anyone," the woman spoke, crying even more copiously as the adrenaline rushed in her blood, and she felt fear and panic surge within her.
"Shut up! Shut up, bitch! You're Azalea, you lie to me! I know you lie to me! Everybody lies to me!" he shouted.
The woman continued to cry.
Not being able to take it anymore, he sealed Danna's mouth shut with duct tape.
She still continued to make noises through the tape.
"Feisty one, aren't you, Azalea darling! Let me take away some of that aggression," he said, gleefully, as he walked towards the bed with a metal pick in his hand.
He felt a strange rush of ecstasy as he saw the woman's eyes widen in fear.

The Face-Off Killer- #2

Somewhere in Boston, at a shopping mall
He lingered about near the fountain near the entrance of the mall, holding a bag in his hand and pretending to wait for someone. The mall was crowded with women- there was a sale on at one of the outlets on the ground floor, and women were thronging the area to grab their share of branded clothes in cheap and save money. It was nearly six in the evening, and the sale wasn't getting over soon. Evening was also the perfect time to kidnap victims, after all.
Which was very good for him in two ways. One, he had hundreds of women, especially young nubile ones, to choose from. Two, the crowd meant the mall security guard wouldn't pay much attention to him.
The crowd of women swelled by the minute. He suddenly felt hungry- he hadn't eaten anything since he had left work two hours ago. Not wanting to lose sight of his prospective victim pool, but not wanting to collapse from hypoglycemia either, he rushed towards the cafe on the same floor, and decided to have a burger.
He was back within ten minutes, in his earlier position near the fountain. The whole of the ground floor was a sea of people, both because of the people who had come for other purposes, and the ladies who had visited for the sales especially.
But he didn't lose sight. He knew where to look, how to look, when to look and how to choose his next prey. That's why he considered himself the perfect hunter.
Time passed as the process of influx-efflux of customers in the mall continued. Finally, it was nine p.m., and the mall was about to close. Almost everybody had left, except the mall staff, and the women still at the sale, haggling over the few remaining items of clothing.
It was among these stragglers that he had found his next 'Azalea'. She was a petite, luscious blonde, who had been here since early evening and had taken a lot of time to pick her dresses. Finally she was paying her bill at the counter, and had four plastic bags brimming with clothes to carry.
He smiled at his luck- women having a tonne of shopping to carry without anyone to help, were easier to corner in a deserted parking lot under the cover of darkness.
The blonde, having paid her bill, picked up her shopping bags and walked out of the outlet, towards the elevators. He subtly followed ten feet behind, knowing she was going to her car parked in the basement lot. He smiled again as he felt so lucky. Basement parking lots afforded a lot of privacy, especially at this time of the evening.
Anticipation bubbling inside, he followed his quarry as she stepped into one of the elevators. He stepped into the other elevator, and they both were the only ones going down.
He couldn't believe his luck. Azalea was going to be so happy.