A heart full of pain rippled up through Anya's body; her resentment building a crooked smile on her twisted face. Her pale skin and fierce green eyes fell upon her prey. She had stalked her vision for weeks, she knew everything she needed to know to make her move. She clung to the shadows, the hunted became the hunter as she crept through the greenery to the open window of the small British cottage. The thatched roof was old and had began to smell and decay, she wondered how many more people he was keeping in his fairytale cottage. How many more people had been lured to his Hansel and Gretel home?
She took a deep breath in, she exhaled all fear. Pushing herself up through the wooden window frame, she landed gracefully and silently. Closing the window behind her, she locked it; she heard his footsteps up above her head, the wooden floorboards creaked under his weight. They muffled out the cries, but she heard them loud and clear. She was prepared, she wore her heart on her sleeve and today, she would have her revenge.
Moving through the old, out of place home, she knew where she was going, she had lived here for seven years before he set her free. Walking up the old stairs, she remembered the eighth and eleventh step scream under her feet. She avoided them, clinging to the handrail she pulled herself up and over them. She saw the light under the doorway, he had company. That poor child, he had been hunting again, he found her replacement. She was crying, little sobs. She was expecting his next sentence, but had no idea how far thrown back she would be hearing them.
"The night will always win".
She twisted the round doorknob and pushed the door open, it swung heavily on it's hinges. He was there. Right there. Staring at her like a deer caught in unexpected headlights. His eyes frozen on hers. The cold silver hung at her side, gripped so tightly in her hands it could have cut right through her palm.
"Anya" he spoke with an uplifting tone, "It really has been too long". His voice sickened her, she looked deep into his grey, stone like eyes. "I want you to meet someone Anya" he said moving to one side showing a little girl laying on the bed, her eyes red and swollen. It was like watching a home movie from years ago. "This is Ava".
Anya's eyes didn't leave his, she walked towards to him as he gestured for her to come and say hello, "Put the knife down, come and say hello. You don't want to scare her do you?". Anya's legs walked, she couldn't stop herself, she didn't want to stop. Her thoughts stopped, her mind went blank as a predatory smile graced her lips.
"I don't want to scare her" she repeated, her tone was bleak, her eyes were hollow and stared right through him. She got to his side, her gaze burning in to his sick body of existence. "Untie her" she demanded.
"Anya, sweetheart, you know I'm not going to do that".
Her hand swept up his body so fast he had no time to react, her cold fingers around his neck, she dug her fingernails deep in to his skin. "I said, untie her. Now". For the first time in her life, she was in control, her nails doused in his blood.
He nodded, his shaky bloated body began fumbling over the knots entrapping Ava. The girl ran free within minutes, she stood behind Anya, gripping at her waist for protection. "Lay down" Anya commanded.
He laughed.
Anya lunged at him overpowering him for the first time, her body on his, he struggled but her adrenalin, her resentment, her revenge was in full swing. Ava ran out the room; too young to understand, but old enough to appreciate the woman's actions.
Anya plunged the knife deep in to the fat abyss of his stomach, he yelled in pain as his evil blood leaked out through the open wound. Her face was strangely calm, she gripped his face, his blood merging with her shirt, his fear emoting in his eyes as powerfully as she took life from him.
He begged. She laughed.
Dragging him to his feet, she pushed him on to the bed of pink pillows and fairy sheets. She drug deeply with the knife again, this time in his bicep of sag and stretched skin. He yelped as pain coursed through his being once more. She tied him with the same sailor knots he had tied her with for years. His arms first, then his feet, the wooden bed frame ached under his enormous weight. She watched as his face paled, and lips dried. She stood watching for a minute before sitting next to him, that same predatory smile found her again. Running the blade over his face, she watched as his blood coiled and spilled down his face; her eyes were as cold as his, she wanted her eyes to be the last he ever saw.
Getting up, she saw the 'Jar of Hearts' he kept on the top shelf, she knocked it to the floor watching it smash, glass shards glittered the floor. Pulling open his shirt, buttons flew in every direction, she watched as his torso shuddered with fear. She picked up a paper heart with a name on it, she placed it carefully on his body, she had planned this, this was calculated. Raising a piece of the broken glass high above her head, she submerged the glass through the heart, straight in to his skin. She leant in to him, whispering in his ear, "You will feel every inch of pain you made me suffer". She took all seven paper hearts and punctuated his body with them. Leaving her own paper heart till the very end, she placed it on his heart, and again, with all her force and ability, caused pain.
He was weak, docile and almost child like with his bloody vulnerability. She stared at him, leaning over his body as he shook, his eyes threatening death, pleading with the man upstairs, not now, please anything but this. But it was too late. Anya watched as his pupils dilated, she breathed a sigh of relief, then remembered one last thing she had to do. She had to stop him torturing anyone on the other side. Taking her knife, she blindly stabbed and slashed at his genitals.
The cottage she had once lived in, but never called home was trashed, photos of his victims were spread around the bed and his body, technology was broken, cameras were smashed, laptops were drowned in the bath tub. And last, a personal good bye, a frame photograph of Anya was thrown in to the open fire.
/
Olivia and Elliot had never seen such a beautiful looking cottage set back off the road; the drive way was at least half a mile long. The small, cosy looking home sat alone, with tall trees in the garden, a vegetable patch was to the left of the stone walls and flower beds sat neatly under each window.
Both the detectives walked in to what looked like a cottage bomb had gone off. The inside didn't share the beauty the outside did. The chairs had been over turned; the television was facedown, the place looked like a pack of savage animals had done a number on it, then left.
"The body is upstairs" the officer said, he too was pale. He smelt of sick and had vomit splashed on his shoes.
"Thanks, you might want to clean yourself up" Elliot suggested.
The officer nodded and left immediately. He looked relieved to leave. Elliot and Olivia made their way upstairs carefully. CSU had markers on the stairs where blood had dropped. Avoiding it all, the detectives entered the room. Behind the blood, the body and sheer horror of the whole thing was a little girls bedroom. The walls were pink, fairies were stencilled on the walls, the curtains and bed spread matched perfectly.
"This is like falling in to a horror movie" Elliot stated.
"The little cottage of horrors" Olivia replied.
Doctor Warner was standing over the body, she looked at the detectives; "He has seven glass wounds to the chest, a deep laceration to the bicep, another to the stomach. He has a cut to the face, like someone ran a blade or possibly glass over his cheek".
Olivia looked at the man laying tied, his face mutilated by fear; "What makes him ours?".
"His genital region has been mutilated" Warner pulled his track pants down revealing what had been his penis.
Elliot put his hand over his mouth, "Jesus. That, that's overkill!".
Olivia tore her eyes off him long enough to ask for an ID. Nothing, he was John Doe. "What are the hearts about?" she asked.
Elliot looked also, Warner extracted one from his chest, "Anya" she read aloud.
"Do all the hearts have names on them?" Olivia asked, a puzzle fitting together in her head. Warner confirmed. "Have you heard the song Jar of Hearts?".
Elliot nodded, "My girls are obsessed with it".
"First theory" Olivia started, "A guy in a house, out of the way, segregated from the world has a kids room, with no kids. What if this is a revenge killing?".
Elliot was catching up, his though process completely in tune with Olivia's, "Someone comes in, ties him up in the bed they were kept in. Stabs him, and for every heart in that jar, they make him pay for it".
"Exactly, the overkill would suggest it's personal. What if it's one of these girls?" Olivia said referring to the names on the paper hearts.
"You really think a girl could overpower him?" Warner asked.
Before anyone could even think about an answer, a officer Spencer came in, he was older, never promoted, and when offered, declined. "Got an ID for you, this was Alec Henderson, owner of Henderson mechanics".
"Thanks" Elliot offered, he looked at the photos that surrounded Alec's corpse. They were all of girls, yet somehow had a formation. He picked up a set of photos, they had been strung together like a child's mobile that would hang over their crib at night. "Check this out" he said looking at Olivia. "If this is the same girl, we're looking at a guy who held these girls hostage for years".
"There are hundreds of photos, it's going to take a long time to get through all of them" Warner added.
Olivia looked at the girl in the photos Elliot was holding, it clicked. "That's Anya Norder. She went missing a few years ago. Her mom was convinced it was a creep that used to hang around the park. She was adamant when he turned up at her school".
"How old would she be now?".
"I'm not sure, about seventeen".
"Well, that's one suspect, now to name the rest" Elliot said.
An unyielding feeling of guilt crashed Olivia, shutting down every other emotion she had felt. Anya Norder was her case. She hadn't found her. She had been forgotten. Put on a shelf in cold cases and left to rot.