Chapter 8

"Sod you too Jim." Dominic flicked his thumb back at the house. "They have anything to do with this?"

"I don't think so," Helen said, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall. "So far the bloke's only connection is that his father owns the sixty acre land and that he happened to stumble upon the bodies.

"I think the bodies are ready to come out," Zandra Plackett said, rubbing her gloved hand up and down her coat sleeves. "We've done the scene photographs and a preliminary assessment of the area around the bodies. I don't think we're going to be able to stay out here much longer. It's getting too dark."

"Okay, once we get the bodies bagged, I think we should call off the scene work for tonight. Make sure that everyone is on the same page Dominic. We can't afford another bloody mistake," Helen said feeling defeated with the current situation. "What can you tell me about the bodies?" Helen said looking over towards Zandra, knowing that she wouldn't be getting much information from her.

"A bloodied naked body of a young woman was found lying grotesquely. The other body was found forty yards from this body. Both women had been stabbed repeatedly, mutilated and deliberately positioned for maximum shock effect. They appeared to be strangled and raped. Probably local is my assumption. The bodies looks like it's might have been out here for maybe a weeks, but it'll be hard to be exact because of the cold." Zandra said trying to gage Helen's reaction. "They look like young college girls."

Helen's brow furled. "The killer might even be considered sadomasochistic. He will be very meticulous so you probably won't find anything. An autopsy will be needed to determine the official cause and manner of death." She said, her words cracked and sounding frustrated."Did you by chance find any ID on the bodies Dominic?"

"Nope," Dominic said, shaking her head. "But you never know. We'll have to give it a good comb through. Maybe the killer dumped it in the surrounding area. We'll see better first light."

"Why do I get the feeling that we won't find ID or substantial clues?" Helen replied, grinding her teeth. The killer was too smart to be caught, this she knew. She knew the killer was acting bravado, and his actions were unsympathetic and calculated. He had no remorse for taking a life nor did he see these girls as anything more than a derision of God's will to cleanse the Earth. For what reason she did not know. The matter of their deaths suggested a deep rooted hatred toward women, especially young girls. Perhaps they were easy victims. Young, innocent and trusting. She had seen many murders, but these murders of young college girls were hard to swallow. She knew if they didn't stop the monster that hid among the average community, that he would continue killing until he was stopped. Those were the cold hard facts that she had to wrestle with.

"We can't be certain of that, Helen," Dominic said, trying to sound upbeat. He knew this case was becoming more difficult.

"This is shite, Dominic. We have two bodies tonight and no more closer to revealing the truth. It's like we're being mocked." Helen said shaking her head. She knew that she had six dead bodies, nothing and no solid connection, but she wasn't going to take any chances. "Same trauma to their bodies and head. Same ligature marks, same style. But why? Why is he killing these women?"

Dominic whispered, "You still think this is the work of a serial killer?" Helen was hoping she was wrong but deep inside she knew her instincts were correct. They were dealing with a serial killer. She knew someone or several people were killing young college girls. Their connection, she didn't know yet. But she was determined to find out even if it killed her.

(At Nikki's office)

He opened with surprising directness. "You think," Mason said as, he looked up, and looked directly at Helen, "that you are so very clever." His voice was deep and callus. He then got up and walked towards the window, and a strange smile played on his dark tensioned face. It was not clear whether his words were addressed to Helen or if he was acting out from people in his lives. "You think," He went on, "that because you bring another psychiatrist to see me, that you're clever but I'm too smart. You think you can transcend all this ugliness around you."

"Is that how you see me? Do you think I'm trying to trick your mind, trying to confuse you Mason?" Nikki said in the shadows, in a measured voice. "Do you feel ashamed, inadequate or anxious about our conversation?" There was a slight agitation of sound that fluttered the room. "I'm here to listen to you and ask you questions if I may."

"You're trying to trick me," responded Mason, in equally calm tone. "You do not see the obvious. You're not asking the right questions." He pulled at his shirt, his hands nervous, his voice, like a microphone. "I've done no killing, but he won't let it stop. He's always watching, always watching me. Always in my head." He said, his eyes wide with fright.

There was no reply. "Tell me Mason, what do the voices say to you?" Nikki said, trying to engage him in an open dialog. "It's understandable that you feel I'm here to harm you."

"No you Doctor. You tell me what the voices are saying," Mason said, his voice agitated. He was used to people judging him and having another psychiatric probe him like he was an animal who needed to be confined to the bedpost.

Nikki thought about it for a moment. She needed to take chances with him even though she knew she hadn't gained his trust but there was something in his voice that spoke to her. Somewhere deep in his soul she felt that he wanted to reach out if only an olive branch was offered. She sensed that his soul was in conflict and she needed to tread the waters carefully. "Okay, the voices speak to you, telling you what you are and what you must do. They want you to physically harm those who fear you, those who do terrible things, but somewhere deep inside is a child who knows that it is wrong to hurt as you've been hurt." spoke Nikki, her voice different, calmer. "You have witnessed terrible things in your young life. You feel alone and the voices betray your thoughts. You think you're evil and cannot be saved, so you lash out."

"Yes, Evil. Too many voices, confusing me. But I'm clever. The voices tell me I'm clever, too clever," commented Mason. "Death is the only solution. He's always watching. Waiting for me. I lose perspective so I need to close my eyes, until it passes."

"Why do you think you're evil?" Nikki said. "Do you think you deserve punishment? Tell me the symptoms before he commands you."

"Don't patronize me, Doctor." His voice irrupted with annoyance. "You think you can medicate me and wash my sins away? You know nothing, he won't stop. He won't stop until they're all dead"

Both Nikki and Helen looked at each other. "Why does he want them dead?" Nikki asked, keeping the distance between them.

"They've been bad. They are society's rejects," Mason said, his expression changed. "Why are you trying to trick me?" Mason was feeling agitated again. "I need to rid this hatred. I don't like what he makes me do. Killing will stop the voices."

"Look at me Mason, I'm here to listen to you." Nikki stated. No response. "Mason," Nikki responded. "What do you think will happen if you kill them? Do you think the voices will disappear?"

"We're all poisoned, guilty of sins. The blood is on everyone's hands," he mumbled. "Silence is golden."

Nikki froze upon hearing the words. Was this a coincidence or was Nikki merely trapped in the past, trying to hold on to the tiny thread that kept her together. She remembered like it was yesterday how Trisha said that one of the blokes told her 'silence is golden'. But Nikki just shook off that notion. It was just a phrase. Many people say it. "Perhaps you're right, Mason. Maybe you should kill them." Nikki said. Helen was gob-smacked. Did she hear right. "Of course that is what you planned, haven't you Mason."

He looked stunned. There was a pause. "It is a testament to love," he said at last, as though suddenly discovering modesty. "The blade is sharper than me or you."

"But you know right from wrong, don't you Mason." Nikki said, her stance firm. She knew she was pushing the envelope. Yet Nikki understood Mason. She knew his pain. She knew that if she could show Mason that she understood he might just open up to her. "So why not give into the voices in your head. Silence them."

"Why are you twisting this around? Don't you see how evil surrounds us? Can't you see him slicing my skin? Stop the pain, cut me, bleeding me." Mason repeated. He observed Nikki with his piercing blue eyes. His guard held high. Nikki wasn't quite sure what Mason meant by it all. She imaged that he was reliving one of his torments. She knew that the knife was a metaphor, an object that reflected his pain.

"Okay, then let the blade slice you." Nikki stated. "That is why you came here. A didactic execution." Helen looked at Nikki confused and Nikki sensed it. She wanted to say something but she didn't know what to say. This wasn't her field of expertise; she assumed Nikki knew what she was doing. She wasn't sure where Nikki was going with this line of questioning, but she seemed to be developing a rapport with Mason. Nikki was sure unconventional, she thought inwardly.

"It will teach you nothing," he said, his voice broken. "Don't pretend to care. You're just trying to get into my head, make me crazy."

"Is that what you really believe?" Nikki said walking a thin line. Nikki knew that if she said the wrong thing, she could cause him to shut down, but something inside her told her that he wanted to in some small way, release a bit of himself. In a strange twist, Nikki felt that she had met him before. His voice was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.

"You speak of me as if I don't understand, but I do. It's a riddle, but only the blind can see its true meaning."

"Perhaps you could explain further," suggested Helen, her voice from the dark in a disinterested tone, with a faint Scottish accent on her words.

He shrugged. "It makes no difference to me. In my eyes, you are all just nothingness."

"Is that why you're suffering alone," Nikki demanded. "Your eyes reveal to me a loneliness. Someone who can't separate real from unreal experience. But that's not entirely true." Nikki looked directly at Mason. "You lack logical reasoning, but your pain is all too real."

"I will not argue with you Doctor," he stated.

"It's because you cannot argue. You are hiding behind something terrible, frightening. I feel your grief, your despair." Nikki said, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "You feel betrayed. You lost something terribly important to you. You feel incomplete and you rage against the world."

"I cannot grieve. My mind is doing me in. I can't escape this perpetual cycle. I must bleed before this sickness consumes me."

"There are medication you can take to control your hallucinations, your psychotic episodes." Nikki said. She wanted to reach out but she knew he wasn't ready. The fire in his eyes were burning, and genuine remorse coming from him. Mason did not sound like a man who would be capable of killing young girls, but a man who lost his way and his sickness was taking over him.

"No, I don't want to feel numb. She didn't feel numb." Mason screamed as he remembered a memory from his past.

"Who is she?" Nikki inquired. Who was he referring to? She knew by his statement that she was someone very important to him.

"They all deserved it. They were dirty. They needed to be punished." Mason eyes were incensed. "No, stop it. Don't touch her…make it stop…don't hurt me." He recoiled like a little child reliving a memory.

Nikki looked over at Helen then moved towards Mason. "You're safe here. No one is going to hurt you." Nikki said softly. "How old were you when he raped you?" Nikki said bluntly, she felt she was chipping away at the core, yet she knew he was going to keep running.

"Enough!" Mason was waving his hands, slicing the air in a motion. "Enough of talk. I came here to demonstrate your worthlessness to you. Now do not think, or talk, or listen. Watch." Mason then took a shard out from his leg pant. No one imagined what would happen next. Mason drew up the shard in an ancient sacrificial motion, grasping at his neck - the sacrifice. There was a sudden stiffening and tension in the room, as both Helen and Nikki realised all together that this was, of course, reality.

"Talk to me, Mason," murmured Nikki in the silence. "It doesn't have to end like this."

"Too late for that. I am intent on killing." He flashed a smile at nothing. "And then I may kill all of you. That is my power, the common power. The one you have forgotten."

"Demonstration is one thing. Do not be too hasty," Helen said. "If you have something to..,"

"You know nothing…nothing. You don't know the pain, the guilt, the power." He spat.

Nikki knew she had to do something. "I know your pain, Mason" Nikki said in a calm voice. "How the blade cuts into your skin, permeating your core until all you see is darkness. An emptiness that constricts your lungs until all you feel is nothingness, meaningless in your life. You feel that no one is listening, that you're invisible. You been hiding in the shadows so long you forgotten that little boy inside you." Nikki said, watching, waiting for Mason's reaction. "Every negative reaction has its consequences, but I genuine believe that you want help. That is why you're here. I might seem like another passing ghost in your life, but I sense your torment. You're longing to come full circle with the past that haunts you. You look for release."

"Why are you playing games with me? How can you possibly know?" He shouted at Nikki who was standing close to him.

"I know the pain of loss. A loss so great that you feel you will drown if you close your eyes. Standing there watching them take her away from you and knowing you didn't stop it. As you hold tightly the guarded secrets that slowly eat away at your heart. It's like a cancer that grows and you don't know how to stop it from spreading through-out your body." Nikki said, remembering Trisha. She felt a lump in her throat as she spoke those words. Her emotions were raw and it felt as if it was only a moment. "You're here because you choose to be. You want the voices in your head to stop. You know her death was not in vain, as the death of your innocence. You couldn't save them. It wasn't your fault she died."

Mason's shoulders relaxed, his face softened. He felt defeated. "You feel it too don't you. The darkness. I can see it in your eyes. I saw it the minute we first met. You and me are the equal…we have this connection and I...I'm so very tired."

"Yes, Mason. I too couldn't save her. I couldn't save her from the darkness and her blood is stained on my heart. It hurts remembering the day she left me. I know it's not my fault but I can't help feeling I let her down. I didn't do enough to save her. I know you're afraid. I know your illness is consuming you but only you can stop the violence, the killing. Let me help you to heal. Let me get you the proper help."

"I can't get it out of my eyes," he said as his eyes grew wide with fear. "Everyone's watching, peering. Madness is enticing. How do I make it stop?" Mason looked at Nikki with pleading eyes.

"I'm sorry you suffered alone," Nikki said, getting up and moving towards him. "But you can't undo what was done. You can't change the past. All you can do is make things right. Bring closure."

"No, stay back," Mason warned. "Please."

"Okay," Nikki relied. "Listen Mason, I know you didn't kill those girls. I see it in your eyes. You're not that monster." Nikki stepped closer again. "What you feel is remorse. You have suffered for so long. You lost someone special in your life Mason. I know you lost your innocent long ago and I can't image how that has fucked you up but it's time to let go of the past."

At first there was silence. Nikki would try to reach out to Mason in hope that he would surrender the shard. She knew if she could relate to him, maybe he could trust her enough. She knew it wouldn't be a quick remedy, but Nikki believed through time she could break through to him.

"She was an angel." Mason said, his eyes full of life. "But he dirtied her and made me watch. Then he did the same to me."

"How did she die? Who did this to you?" Nikki said trying to sound genuine in her approach. Mason was unstable and she knew she needed to be gentle with him in order to gain his trust.

"I can't talk about that. It's a secret." He said, sounding like a child. "The fire...how the fire lit her eyes. But I've said too much, too much."

"I met an angel once, but left me too soon." Nikki said, her eyes watery. "They took her away from me and there hasn't been a day where she doesn't haunt my dreams. But I know she's here with me."

"I had an angel once too. We were cut from the same cloth. But she left me, left me to the despair of this mad world. He made sure of it. But he loves me...he would never leave me." Mason said. "She didn't have to die," he said, his voice full of emotions. "I can't talk about it. It's too difficult."

"That's okay Mason. We don't have to talk about it. We can talk about anything you want."

Helen watched Nikki talk to Mason. It was fascinating how Nikki operated. She thought that the situation would surely get out of hand, now looking both at Nikki and Mason, she knew that his threats to suicide was real. She wondered how much of Nikki's words were actually true. Something inside told her that whatever she was telling Mason was from experience and not just some made-up story to disarm the situation.

"It's all my fault, I should be the one dead," he said. And then the shard fell, in a flashing, jerky motion. First there was a terrified face, then there was a shard and a face filled with sadness, then as the shard was release, the face became defeated. Mason fell backwards, his body slumped to the floor, and on his knees he covered his face with his hands. There are moments when time does not move, when the story breaks. They sat and stared and the impetus was lost. "It's all my fault." Mason's voice sounded different: a child now, robbed of any dignity in the moment of horror. "You understand...I know you understand. It's you...it could only be you. Forgive us for what we done. Forgive me for not stopping it." Mason was crying like a child. "Can I be forgiven? Please, tell me if I will be forgiven?" He pleaded with Nikki as she had her hand on his shoulders, comforting him. She did not understand what he meant by asking for forgiveness. She assumed he wanted his soul to be cleansed of the sins and guilt.

Nikki looked up and locked eyes with Mason as she took hold of the shard that Mason once held so tightly. "Sometimes we do things that we later regret. First we must forgive ourselves before our sins can be forgiven. We need to find the light at the end of the tunnel and bridge our heart. Fear is what controls us and keeps us from moving forward. You have nothing to be ashamed of because you're different. You don't deserve to be prosecuted. Nothing is ever black and white," Nikki said, understanding it all too clearly. How fragile humans were. How evil humans could be, and yet at the same time show great empathy. Nothing was ever black and white. "Do it for them. Give them their voice back. You know what I'm asking of you. Please help us before more innocent girls die."

(Outside the room)

"Mason didn't kill anyone," Nikki said with a weary and tired voice. She felt emotional spent.

"Are you sure about this, Nikki," Helen said, wanting to believe Nikki, but she needed more convincing. Maybe she was wrong about Mason. Maybe she was blinded all along.

"What I saw in that room suggested to me that a person who could commit those crimes could not have been carried out by someone of Mason's mental capability. He shows genuine remorse."

"He could be acting, trying to convince us that's he's mentally unstable."

"That's what I thought you'd say, Helen," Nikki said smiling. "Trust me, he did not rape and kill those girls. I bet my life on it as I know you feel the same. Those murders were done by a sadistic rapist who has a strong revulsion towards women. But if I'm correct, and this might be a long shot, I believe he was a witness to something horrible. Something unfathomable."

"You think so?" Helen sighed, as if the case just became clearer. "So now what? How do we get him to confess what he knows?"

"If I'm correct, this person is either family, a friend, a mentor. Mason is so frightened for his own safety that he's not breaking his code of silence. But whatever happened to him when he was a child affected him as an adult. Which is why I think he has the answers. If I could have another session with him then I know I will be able to break through."

"That's a least something to go on, right? We need to go back inside and pry it out of him then." Helen suggested.

"No, Helen," Nikki said firmly. "If we go back we might push Mason too far. He's unstable. Right now I sense he trust me. I feel like we are really close to getting a confession from him. I just need a little more time."

"That's just it Nikki," Helen moaned. "I'm thin on time at the moment. As much as I believe in you, I need concrete evidence right now, something to go on. I get an awful feeling about this."

Nikki placed her hand on Helen's shoulder. "You have to trust me Helen if we're going to work together."

"That's not it, Nikki," Helen replied. Nikki's hand felt warm on her shoulder. "Everything is just shite."

"I respect your opinion, but I'm telling you. If we go back into that room and bombard Mason with questions, he will recoil like a snake. Then we will be back to square one."

Helen nodded her head. She knew Nikki was probably right. "Okay, Nikki, for you then."

"Thanks Helen," Nikki smiled as she continued to look into those hazel/green eyes. "I knew you were a reasonable woman the first day I met you."

"Don't press your luck," Helen smacked her teeth together. "You might not get so lucky next round."

"You're really sexy when you do that," Nikki teased. She couldn't help herself from flirting. She knew it wasn't the right time or place but at times her words would escape her mouth before she had time to process it.

"Am I really?" Helen feigned innocence. Nikki grinned. This was going to be an interesting partnership. But Nikki would have to keep her guard up or she might end up falling in love with Helen Stewart.

"Sadie my dear feline friend, one day all this will come to an end." Monica Potter said, underneath the dirty old rag she called a blanket. It had been a week since she last had a decent conversation. She thought of Nikki and wondered what she was doing. Since meeting Nikki, Monica felt different, felt a small pin of hope, but then she was old and tattered. Hope was an elusive word she once enjoyed in her younger days. She had not taken up on Nikki's offer to go to the women's shelter that she talked about. But she still had in her coat pocket Nikki's number. Would she call her? Extend her hand out for help? How Monica dreamed of living a life that she could be proud of. Still, she was alive and in good health. Yet, her stubbornness could get in the way of genuine help. She had travelled so much that she was beginning to tire. It would be nice to be in the company of someone who really cared about her.

"Sadie, perhaps I misguided my trust," Monica said, her eyes revealing a kind of sadness that you see in a person who has lost her inner soul. "I'm an old tired woman and you're a good friend, in fact, my one true friend." Sadie meowed as if she understood what the old woman was saying. There was an element of sadness in the cat's eyes. "Maybe we should give her a ring. We best be moving along before someone finds us here." She got up, gathered her belongings and sneaked through the cracked door to the outside world. It was a cold November morning, and winter harshest days were yet to come. Another season, another year on the horizon and Monica knew things would change. She sensed it. But whatever she sensed wasn't going to come without a price. She knew danger lay ahead of her. Then she closed her eyes as she had done so many times before and took in cold air into her lungs. She felt a cold chill run up and down her spine. It wasn't the kind of chill a person gets from the cold, on the contrary. Today would be different.

All the while she stood there, like a prey, being victimized once more. And who would understand the undertone of his voice. To the outside world, he was just a freak, an accident that no one wanted to claim. But nothing could move the intense hatred beyond the cold steel eyes, nothing to sooth the darkness except the sheer pleasure of taking a life. And what gratification he received watching a last breath leaving a body, longed suffering, with that obscene timidity and self-sufficiency that so coloured his life. And how could she not see it? How, oh how, could it be made any plainer to her? She was just another victim to his cruelty. Her life was in his hands and he could grasp them if he chose, and that was all right, however demented it might seem to others. His young victim did not face the stars as he did or wanted to grasp the intensity. He made excuses for his behaviour, however impossible it might seem. But tonight, this girl was different. The almost lifeless body that hung reminded him of someone. It moved him to feel something, even when he was sucking out the life in her, stealing her last breath; he was, in a cruel fate, moved by her presence. He looked at her with crazed eyes, stroking her hair as if a memory was trapped in his throat. How he wanted to hold her and tell her he was sorry. Usually death excited him but tonight, tonight he would be moved to produce a single tear.

And that was when he heard the voice quietly whisper, quite clearly, in the chill and the darkness before she had taken her last breath, `Kill her. Kill the poison that runs through your veins' like the Devil whispering into his ear. And he felt suddenly - not pity or outrage or pain - but as though he was implicated in the attack. He had thought he cared about people, but when it came down to it, he didn't care enough to become engaged in others' pain, to transcend in their suffering in order to dilute it and make it bearable. Instead of stopping, he had laughed uncomprehendingly at pain, and then watched quietly and disinterestedly as it was laid bare for him. And he stood there blankly listening in the darkness howling wind, like a raping of the soul. It was like he could hear their screams. No it was just the shadows that fooled him. But then it struck him, suddenly there in the shadows in which he hid: how easily you could mistake love; the sounds of anger, jealousy, and hate. But they all deserved to die. Their rejection was a sign that they were engaged in impurity. Engaged in acts against nature, against the bible teaching. He was after-all, allocating righteous justice.

"I thought killing her would bring me pleasure. It wouldn't have been so wrong, after all, would it? An end to her pain: my pain and disappointment." He stood there and thought, very coldly. And you'd have been caught. However right it seemed, you couldn't have expected to get away with…"

"But, don't you see? You're invisible. And even if you were caught, well, killing her was the right thing to do." The voice said.

"But this one's special," he said. "I couldn't stop myself. I wanted to. It was an act of impulse. A false judgment."

"She is impure," the voice said. "She needed to die like the rest of them. You are the higher power and she rejected you. She lie with sheep and commits sin. Death is her only redemption." The voice sneered.

He was horrified. "But I didn't have a choice. She shouldn't have been naughty. She could have been a friend."

"She is the devil's pawn. She tried to make you impure. She needed to die." The voice said.

"No," he cried out in the darkness, his hands covering his face. "Don't you see? It was a choice. Killing was a real option. Not just a thought, a whim, something you dream and never do. It was a plan, with a purpose."

"Control yourself," the voice said.

He shook his head and felt irrational. "I came very close," he said. "I could have stopped. You don't believe me?" He cried into the darkness. And what was he escaping, what was he so afraid of? Not of killing itself - for he felt no horror, and not pity for the life he took, but of the responsibility entailed in destroying another creature. All his life, he had tried to stay uninvolved, to extricate himself from everything, to stop his fingers brushing against evil. But nothing ever made him feel whole.

"Don't fool yourself," the voice said after a pause.

"I could stop this insanity. I think I could." He cried out, as if he had a moment of clarity.

"You couldn't." The voice repeated.

"But she was special. She could have been different. I could have stopped." He said.

"No," the voice, "I don't think you could." He smiled. "You're very good at what you do. The world needs more people like you." The word `good' did not sound like a compliment, not really, but he cringed anyway. A part of him knew what he did could, be consider by others as an evil, monstrous. He looked at his knees, and he could not see her face. The face that once had life, colour, but now that held a blank expression, motionless, empty.

"You're not evil. You are the messenger of God." the voice assured him.

"Yes, of course you're right," He said calmly. "I am here to bring justice. Those whores deserved to die. I am ridding the world of impurity." Then just as the voice came it left. And so was the shadow. The voice in him felt triumphant. He had many times fought his demons, the demons that crept up him constantly. It was a part of him he couldn't control. And as each passing day unfurled, so did he. His wife would be waiting for him, just as she did every day. After all, tomorrow would bring another day.

(Stay tuned for chapter 9. As the story progress, things should become more interesting. Trying to work in my head how I want the story to go as I like to keep things interesting. Feedback is appreciated, as I always like to know how others perceive my story. As always, enjoy.)