Caution: graphic

Greg was still groggy but not as bad anymore. He had screamed some when Frankie took a whip to his back a few times, so he now had a gag ball in his mouth to suppress his screams. He watched as Frankie sat at the table in the musty smelling motel room and snorted lines of coke.

He turned his head and looked at the ropes that bound his hands together at the center of the headboard. He had already pulled them tighter than they had been originally and now they began to cut into his wrists.

"You won't be able to free yourself. The other two had tried to get free too but they never made it. They should count themselves lucky, well if they were still alive. I took their lives rather quickly after the sex." Frankie said to him. He had apparently finished his lines of coke and was now facing the dresser, looking back at Greg through the mirror.

Greg noticed he was looking at him as if expecting him to ask why, but he very well could not with the gag ball in his mouth.

"Oh I can see the questioning in your eyes. You are wondering what I am talking about. I am talking about this!" He turned around had a hunting knife in his hand. He walked over to Greg and made like he was about to stab him but instead he stabbed the bed next to him. Greg's whole body shook with mostly fear but unfortunately some was withdrawals happening when he was already a mess.

Frankie laughed maliciously. "Ahh, yes the others were still whores but they were at least honest about it. They knew they were always going to be whores. They didn't try to play house with their cop boyfriend and make-believe they were no longer a whore, like you!"

Greg realized he was the serial killer and when it came down to it, he had been the main target all along. The others were practice for him. He was nauseated and wanted to throw up but could not with the gag in his mouth. He started squirming more to try to free himself when he felt his ankles grabbed roughly. "Stop moving around or I will kill you right now." Greg obeyed for now, but not really sure why since he knew no one would find him in time.

"Now I need to turn you over. I'm going to undo your ankle ties for a minute, if you try to kick me or anything to fight me, I will cut off your toes, one by one," Frankie sneered. Greg knew he had just snorted some coke, so anything he said he would probably make due on. He didn't fight when Frankie turned him over onto his back. It hurt some from the whipping he took but he had no idea what pain was about to happen to him.

Frankie tied his ankles back to the bed posts. He tested the tightness of the ropes. "Good, don't want you squirming too much for this key part of the plan. See this is the part where after I am done everyone will know you were a whore. It will be written all over you," he said with an evil grin.

Greg remembered his other victims being stabbed to death and the word 'Whore' written in blood on the wall. Was he going to stab him and then write the word 'whore' in his own blood on his own body?

Frankie got on the bed and kneeled next to him. He looked at the knife in his hand. "I suppose you are wondering where I am going to stab you first? You see, that's later with you. No, I am going to carve the word 'whore' into your chest so nobody mistakes you're dead body for someone who deserves pity."

When Greg heard him say carve into him, he started moving and fighting with everything he could to free himself or get away from the man.

"Tisk, tisk. If you keep moving so much it will only make it messy and I will have to start over again. So you are best off not trying to fight it. You won't win," Frankie told him as he placed the edge of the knife blade against his upper chest.

Greg realized he was right now. If he moved, it would only probably cut deeper. He tried begging him, even though it was muffled through the gag ball. Tears rolled down his face but he saw nothing but malice in the eyes of his murderer.

He looked down and screamed as the blade cut through his skin as it went down in a line on his chest. Frankie completed the first letter within a minute; W. The cut was not horribly deep but it was enough that Greg was in severe pain and blood dripped down his upper chest.

Frankie leaned back and looked at his work. "Not bad for the first letter." He glared down at Greg. "Are you ready for letter H?" Greg couldn't do anything but cry from pain and panic as the blade slit down again against his chest to slowly create the letter H.

"Now for the letter O." He looked at Greg with his eyes squeezed shut from the pain. "You know this is a reminder for you before you die; once a Whore, always a Whore," Frankie smiled to himself, so happy with his work.

Frankie continued the process but went slower with each cut, making the pain that more searing for Greg to endure. He would occasionally look back on his work and smile proudly before carving the next letter into his skin. He would keep saying "Once a whore, always a whore" over and over again to Greg as he cut into him.

By the time Frankie finished the last letter, Greg was virtually unresponsive. The pain was one thing but the emotional torture was another. He kept hearing the phrase "Once a whore, always a whore" repeated over and over in his head and it had become his mantra. But the pain and loss of blood eventually won out and he gave into the darkness again.

Frankie got off the bed and stepped back to look at his work. He was a little upset that he was bleeding so much that it made the word blurry looking but he knew when he was a body in the morgue, it would show up so clearly. He hoped his boyfriend cop would enjoy seeing his whore displayed so vividly so everyone knew. He also wanted to destroy the heart of the man who supposedly loved Greg. He couldn't understand how a cop could want a drug addicted, whore but he would make him wish he never had. Then an additional idea came to him. "Oh to make it even more perfect, I will carve Cop's above the word Whore and then it will read Cop's Whore." He laughed gleefully but decided since his victim was passed out it was time he rested his wrist so the carving would be perfect.

Nick looked at the clock and figured Greg had been gone over 24 hours now. He could be anywhere and he could be dead. He only prayed that this Frankie was just messing around with him and would let him go eventually.

"Nick, I got something!" Nick spun around and Archie was running into the lab with a laptop. He placed the laptop down on the table in front of them. "The car was not registered under his name but there is a cell phone under his name. There is a GPS tracking on it. His phone is still on. I've got a location on it. 2102 S Boulder Hwy, Henderson. It's the address for a Body Motel."

"Do you have a phone number?" Nick asked.

"I already tried calling the guy's cell phone, there is no answer," Archie told him.

Nick shook his head. "No, I figured you would have tried that already otherwise you would not have done the tracking on it. I mean the motel. I want to call to see if they recognize the name."

"Ahh, yeah I got the number here." Archie pointed out the number on the screen. Nick punched it into his cell phone and waited for an answer. He let it ring and ring and no one picked up.

"Damn it! No answer. Probably not a full service motel I am assuming, open 24 hours. Anyways, thanks Archie. I think this is our best lead."

Nick walked over to find his partner. Jack had been filled in on everything that had gone down. Jack had searched on the internet and found a better photo of Franklin Delano, as was his formal name. He had buzzed cut brown hair and hazel eyes from what they could tell in the photo. It was a photo taken for work since it was on a Linked In site. He ended up finding a lot more information once he dug. He was an accountant with a local firm. He made about $50,000 a year and owned his own home that he inherited from his parents after their death. He was an only child and unmarried. He was 6'2" and liked to work out. He had a membership at Gold's Gym.

"Hey Nick, any news?" Jack asked him as he saw him.

"Yeah we have a possible location of where he is now. It's a drive though so we need to get going. It's way out in Henderson, on South Boulder Highway. Some ratty motel by the sounds of it, probably similar to the places I found Greg in during his prostitution days. It would make sense for this Frankie to go to one if it was about sex," Nick said to him. He was trying to be calm but inside he was anything but. The longer he had not heard back from Greg, the more he worried. He was not sure what this guy was capable of.

"Yeah well before we leave, I did some more checking and talked to an informant who was brought in. He works at Rocco's just like Greg did. I happened to show him Frankie's picture and he knew him. He said he saw him with one of our serial killer victim a couple nights before he disappeared. He said he seemed angry when he left with Mike," Jack told him.

Nick felt distressed hearing this news. "Are you thinking he could be the serial killer?"

"I don't know for sure but you said Greg knew Mike, so there is a connection between victim and who has Greg right now." Jack hated giving him that information.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! If he has Greg, he could be dead already! We have to leave now!" Nick started towards the exit. Jack followed after him. "I'm right behind you. I'm going to radio for backup."

Jack ended up driving because Nick had too many nerves to drive carefully. Jack was able to keep a level head and get them there in one piece.

Nick had been extremely quiet on the drive there. "He's going to be alive when we find him," Jack said, trying to give positive thoughts. "I mean we aren't sure this guy is the serial killer. We still have no actual evidence to say he is."

Nick was looking out the window as dusk set in on the cloudy evening. "This guy has been stalking Greg by the sounds of it. He drugged him and kidnapped him to do what? Just have sex with him? It didn't make sense to me at first but now and knowing his past violent tendencies. He has escalated to murder and Greg is his next victim," he said woefully.

"Nick, come on. Stop thinking so negatively. That's not like you. You've got to hold out some hope he is still alive," Jack tried to make him believe.

"It's been 32 hours since the last time anyone has seen him, that is plenty of time for this nut job to do whatever he wants to him." Nick knew it was not like him to lose hope but he had a feeling he was going to lose Greg this time around. He sighed heavily as he tried to keep his emotions at bay.

X x x

Frankie waited long enough for Greg to wake up again but he had not. He had brought some smelling salts with him and decided it was time to try them out. He wanted Greg awake when he started carving the final word onto his chest. He placed the smelling salts under Greg's nostrils and watched him start to stir. He smiled down at him in glee when he saw him awake.

"Oh I am so happy you are back. I wanted you to know the final addition I was going to make for your Cop to see when he finds your dead body. But first, I want you to see my work so far."

Greg was barely conscious but understood what he was telling him. He was not through carving into his body. He purposely woke him up to only suffer more as he cut into him again.

He saw Frankie step away and then come back a few seconds later. He held up a mirror in front of him. "Now look at what a wonderful job I have done. No one will mistake the word Whore on the whore."

Greg wanted to vomit at the sight of the bloody carving going down his chest in an angled manor, so it spanned most of it. W started on his upper right, near his shoulder and E ended up right above his upper left pelvic region. He started sobbing. He just wanted it all to end at this point. He wanted his death to come but Frankie was not done. He saw the excited smile on his face as he saw his own breakdown.

Frankie put the mirror on the side table and grabbed his knife again. He had wiped it clean from before. "Now, I am going to carve it smaller, but I think I will put the word Cop's right across your upper chest here." He showed Greg by taking his finger and making the action of cutting it his chest. "So when all is done, it will say Cop's Whore."

Greg 's eyes opened wider when he realized Nick would see that on his dead body and know it was directed at him. He was even going to torment Nick with what he would have carved on his body.

Greg wanted to scream so badly, he wanted to curse the motherfucker out, he wanted to kill him himself but he had no power or ability to do any of it. He was still gagged and far too weak to hardly fight what was to come. If anything he could barely keep his eyes open anymore.

Frankie started singing his favorite homemade tune, using the phrase he had sang over and over again during his previous carving session. "Once a Whore, always a whore… just a cop's whore now." He laughed out loud at his new addition to new song. He gazed into Greg's frightened eyes one last time before he broke new skin with the knife. Greg felt it briefly before the new pain brought on darkness again.

X x x x

"This is taking too long. How much further?" Nick asked even as he looked at the GPS which told them they were about 2 minutes away.

"We are almost there Nick. We still don't know which room he is in or if he is even there. You have to calm down or if he isn't dead yet, you might end up making him dead," Jack told him.

Nick knew he was right. He had to calm down. It was not a sure thing that Greg was there with him or that Frankie was even there. He could have left his phone behind.

They pulled up in front of the very small motel. It looked to have only about 10 rooms, all outdoor entrances of course. It was dark by the time they parked. There were lights on in a couple windows only. They first went to the front desk area. They walked up to the door and saw it was locked; however there was a guy behind a counter reading a book. They knocked on the glass door and showed their badges. The guy quickly stood up and came to the door to unlock it.

"Uh, what can I do for you officers?" The balding man asked. Nick held out a picture of Frankie and one of Greg. "Have you seen either of these two men here?" Nick watched as the guy hesitated.

"Are they both bad guys?" Jack quickly shook his head. "No, but we believe one is possibly responsible for a few crimes and the other one might be with him."

"Well I sold a room to this guy yesterday. He's told me he didn't want any disruptions until he checked out in a couple days. I told him not to worry as we only have weekly housekeeping or clean when someone checks out. This ain't no MGM Grand, you know," the motel owner laughed. He noticed the two cops were looking impatient.

"What room is he in?" Nick asked with edginess in his voice.

"105, down at the end. He said he wanted a room furthest away from the road and desk area."

"Do you have an extra key to the room?" Nick asked him urgently. "Uh, yeah but I can't just go giving it to you. I mean the guy has some rights, I believe."

"Well, I am sure you have a few health and building code violations at this dump that I can have county inspectors take a look at and shut you down too. How about that?" Nick seethed with no remorse.

"Uh, well I mean I guess I didn't see you guys take the keys. I mean they are right over there behind the desk. I guess if I walked away to use the bathroom or something without locking them up in the cabinet I can't be held responsible for what you do," said the push over of a motel owner. He walked away through a door in the back of the office area.

Nick ran around the desk and saw a cabinet that was unlocked with a few keys in it. He found one that had 105 carved into it and grabbed it. "Let's go," he said to Jack.

Jack grabbed his arm. "Hold on! Are you just going to unlock the door and enter?"

Nick pulled his arm out of his grip. "What if your sister had possibly been kidnapped by some serial killer and you know where the killer was? Would you give them the chance to know you are there and finish them off or run off?" Nick said to him with an accusing glare.

"Fine, fine. But let's just go first and see."

They walked down to the last door. Their backup was 5 minutes off. Nick could not wait. He was not expecting a shoot out anyway. This guy seemed to be a knife guy, so probably didn't have a gun on him. There was a dim light on through the drawn curtains, so it seemed to be occupied. He could hear some music playing inside. That would help muffle any sounds they made outside.

Nick quietly tried the handle first and it was locked. He nodded to Jack who gave him the go ahead in return. Jack had his gun ready, as did Nick when he placed the key in the door with his right hand. He slowly turned it and heard it click.

Inside the man heard the noise at the door. He was sitting at the table, snorting some coke at the time. He grabbed his knife and went over to the bed and looked down. "If I am going down, you are most definitely going down with me if you aren't already there." He held the knife ready to thrust into the body below him.