"It's begun." The voice was raspy, thin, and above all else vile, it left lips not seen to the young girl as she whimpered in terror at her captor. A stocky man, pudgy but muscular; his body was completely shaven except for hair that was barely able to be seen sticking out from under a heavy foam latex mask that of a pig that covered his head. His arms were covered in bright blue surgical latex gloves, up to the elbow as he lays out a few crude, simple instruments.
While one hand lays out and fondles each instrument with care, the other hangs up the call he was on. A burner phone which he drops into a small tool box on the floor. The pig-headed man had no reason to be careful with the phone, he had three more just like it in the white panel van sitting in the parking garage well below where he was now.
The girl while young, a fresh nubile blonde, tempted him so. Her green eyes watch him in terrifying clarity as he listens to people behind him ransack her apartment. Oh yes, she had her own place. Her parents were rich, stupid, and careless. His gloved fingers pick up a sharply honed hunting knife, the heft of its hilt in his hand makes him bounce it against his palm before turning his eyes to the tip of the blade. A hook curved piece of surgical stainless steel, used for prying under the hide and pulling it up from its bed of muscle and sinew.
A fine tool. With a simple cloth gag in her mouth she cries and whimpers, her words come out a slur of sound that the man in front of her doesn't care to listen to. There's silence that falls through the tossed apartment as he slides the medical tray away from his prey and closes in on her, his fingers pull the gag from her mouth and he starts with her tongue. A pretty pink muscle that he wants to keep for himself.
He had to do this quickly. She would scream at any second and he didn't like screaming. The gush of warm blood floods out from the quick, tearing at slice at her supple young flesh from his blade out of her pretty young lips and onto his gloved fingers. It fills the groove of the blade and pours down over the hand guard. Tearing the muscle away he lays it aside in a small metal bowl and steps back. His expression hidden to her, and for that she was thankful, but she could see the glee in his eyes. The lustfully erotic glee before he steps in and takes her by the hair.
Bloody finger tangle with golden hair to pull her head back forcing her to whine and choke on her own crimson flow of life. The pain was immense, it was everything but she couldn't find it in herself to scream because that would only make the pain worse. So much worse. She could feel it in her throat. Blinking up at the ceiling she feels hot tears cut down her cheeks, as warm steel touches the side of her throat and moves quickly.
Her skin parts, the pain compared to the loss of her tongue is nothing in comparison. It's like a paper cut that bleeds out quickly. Her world goes dark quickly. Her breath leaves her as she feels her head go slack and lurch forward.
Mackenzie Crowne spots the pig-headed man's garishly pink face watching her one last time before she fades from existence. Her body lifeless and naked.
Her killer, the pig-headed man moves quickly, the tip of his blade swiping through the air as he guides the people in there with him, "Everything worth anything goes in the wheelbarrow, we're out of here in ten minutes."
Slicing her bindings he moves her body with uncaring force to a wall that had been prepared for this moment. It was bare, stripped of everything that had been on it. People come to his side and help hoist her up against the wall in a loose crucifixion pose. With the tip of his hunting knife, he scrawls into her taut belly, "Step One," before twirling golden hair around it to keep her head aloft. Jamming the knife into the wall above her head he moves with sureness to pull out thin, sharpened railroad spikes to drive through her palms and into the wall behind her. Keeping her arms outstretched her body on show.
Leaving her like that, he steps back and peels off his gloves as another writes with a paint brush soaked in her blood on the wall above her, "It begins here."
An email would be sent out to the Major Crimes Unit, Homicide, and the District Attorney's Offices once the body was found detailing what all of this meant. What "Step One" was, what was beginning here.
Stripping his gloves from his hands to dispose of them into his tool box and retrieve more to keep his prints from appearing anywhere else he nods, "Fifteen until her PA shows up people, we move now or never."
In moments, they were gone. The apartment looted of anything remotely valuable.
In moments after that Mackenzie Crowne's personal assistant entered her residence upon finding her door open. Ventured in quietly, fearfully only to find her dear friend and employer brutalized and robbed.
Moments after that the emails appear. All the same, all addressed to who they were sent to.
"To Captain Gordon of the Major Crimes Unit,
You will find in minutes that the murder and robbery of the last living Crowne Heiress will come across your desk. Please know that this is only the beginning. She was step one. To show you and the rest of your government ilk that you are not so untouchable anymore. We will take our power back from you by force.
This is only the beginning. Within the next fourteen hours we will have taken back our city from you; the rich, corrupted and empowered greedy one percent. There is nothing you can do to stop it. There is no one you can turn to that can help you.
This is your reckoning, long coming and deserved. This is Anarky.
Hour one starts now."