Chris Carter: The Crucifix Killer

‘Let me give you an idea of what’s gonna happen to you. First, I’ll put you to sleep so I can operate on your throat. Nothing fancy. Actually, it will be pretty rough. Just enough for me to sever your vocal cords. I can’t have you screaming in here for two days.’

Vroooom. Hunter heard the piercing sound of an electric drill come from behind him. He took a deep breath, but he could feel the fear taking over.

‘Then,’ she continued. ‘When you are awake again, I’m gonna drill holes through your kneecaps, your elbow and your ankle joints. That will shatter the bones into hundreds of little sharp pieces. Any tiny movement, even breathing will cause you incredible pain. I’ll savor the moment for a few hours before moving on.’

Hunter closed his eyes and tried to control the shudder spasms that had started running through his body.

‘After that, I’ll start experimenting with your eyes, your teeth, your genitals and your exposed flesh.’ She grinned. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll keep you alive and suffering until the last second.’

Hunter twisted his neck, but he couldn’t see her. Doubts were flooding his mind. Fear had settled in and he started to regret his decision. Maybe his plan wouldn’t work out.

‘But there’s something I need to do first,’ Brenda whispered.

Unexpectedly he felt his hair being grabbed from behind with tremendous force. His head violently jolted forward. He tried fighting back but he simply didn’t have the strength, the energy. The steel blade against the back of his neck first felt cold as ice, then it burned like volcanic fire. Not a deep cut, he sensed. Just enough to scar the flesh.

The double-crucifix, Hunter thought. I’m being marked for death.

‘Wait…’ he called. His voice was still fragile, his throat still too dry, burning with a feverish heat. He had to do something. Buy some time. ‘Don’t you wanna know where you made your mistake? Don’t you wanna know how you’re gonna lose?’

He felt the blade moving away from his neck. Her unsettling laughter echoing throughout Hunter’s small living room. ‘You don’t even know how to bluff, Robert. I never made a mistake. I never left anything behind. My plan has always been flawless,’ she said with patronizing arrogance. ‘And I think you’re starting to go delusional. Let me describe the situation for you. I’ve got you tied up, alone and weak as a wounded animal. I’m the one holding all the knives and you think I’m gonna lose?’

‘See, you’re almost right,’ he said, moving his head back up. He could feel the sting of the flesh wound she’d made on his neck. ‘But earlier tonight, when I found out about your revenge, about the jurors, about who you really were, I also found out that today would’ve been your brother’s birthday.’

Brenda had moved from behind his chair and was facing Hunter once again. A glistening blade in her right hand, an intrigued look on her face.

‘So I figured out you wanted it that way,’ Hunter continued. ‘The final revenge on your brother’s birthday. The perfect finale.’

‘Very good, Robert,’ she said, clapping her hands. ‘Too bad you decided to start doing all your detective work on the day of your death.’

‘So…’ Hunter quickly carried on, ‘before I left the RHD, I placed a call to my captain explaining what I’d found out and he placed a watch on me.’

Brenda frowned. A speck of doubt in her eyes.

‘When I got home, I knew something wasn’t right, I knew someone had been here. That someone had to be you. You knew I’d have a drink or two tonight, so you drugged every bottle of whisky I have because you didn’t know which one I’d go for. But you should’ve placed them back in the correct order.’

Brenda’s eyes moved from Hunter to his small bar and then back to him.

‘They’ve been in the same order for years. I never move them.’

‘If you knew the bottles were drugged, why drink it?’ she asked insolently.

‘Because I knew you wouldn’t poison me to death. It’s not your style. It wouldn’t be revenge if I died without knowing why.’

Hunter could sense Brenda was getting agitated. His heart was in overdrive but he kept his voice calm.

‘I knew you were in my apartment, I could feel your presence. I knew you’d be watching me so I pretended to check my phone by pressing a few keys when in reality I was dialing my captain. If you look inside my pocket, you’ll find that my cell phone is still on. If you look out the window, you’ll find that the building is surrounded. You can’t get out of here. It’s over.’

Her eyes rested on the window behind Hunter. An edgy and disturbed look on her face. She had underestimated him and she knew it.

‘You’re bluffing,’ she said in a nervy voice.

‘Check the window,’ he replied sturdily.

She didn’t move. Her hand was shaking from all the adrenaline. ‘Nothing is over,’ she finally shouted back in rage, moving around Hunter’s chair.

Unexpectedly and with a loud crash Hunter’s living-room door swung open. Wood splinters flying through the air from the broken hinges. In a fraction of a second three STU agents had come through the door. Their laser sights placing three red dots over Brenda’s heart.

‘Drop the knife! Drop it now,’ the first officer commanded in an authoritative voice, but Brenda had already positioned herself behind Hunter. She had kneeled down sheltering most of her body behind his. The knife she had in her right hand was now being held with both hands, its entire blade pressed horizontally against Hunter’s neck, as if she was about to garrote him with it.

‘Drop the knife,’ the officer ordered again.

‘Wait…’ Hunter called. He knew what she’d done. She’d positioned herself in such a way that her entire weight was pulling her backwards, away from Hunter’s chair. With the blade against his neck in a strangle position, Hunter knew if she fell back, she’d almost decapitate him. If she died, he’d die. ‘Lower your weapons,’ Hunter said.

‘No can do, sir,’ came the immediate reply.

Hunter knew the officers wouldn’t back off; they lived for moments like this one.

‘Isabella, listen to me…’ he whispered. He didn’t want to call her by her real name. He hoped there was something of Isabella left in her. ‘These guys have itchy trigger fingers. They won’t hesitate to shoot you. They won’t hesitate to shoot me to get to you.’ Hunter kept his voice as calm as possible. He understood stressful situations. He knew people had a tendency to match the anxiety of those around them. ‘Please don’t let it end like this. There are people who can help you, people that wanna help you. I understand the pain you’ve been through, but the pain doesn’t have to go on.’

‘You’ll never understand the pain,’ she whispered back.

‘I do understand it. You saw it, you said so yourself. After I lost my partner and my only cousin the pain almost ate me alive. I did hit rock bottom, but I didn’t stay there. Give us a chance to help you.’

‘You wanna help me?’ her voice just a little tender now.

‘Yes, let me help you. Please.’

‘Like you helped your partner today, Robert?’ Her Italian accent was back. Hunter sensed that the woman behind him wasn’t Brenda anymore.

‘Yes… like I helped Carlos.’ No hesitation in Hunter’s voice.

He felt the blade being pressed just a little harder against his neck and the skin starting to rupture.

‘Would you do the same for me, Robert?’ she whispered into his right ear. ‘Would you risk your life for mine?’

‘You have three seconds to drop the knife before we shoot you where you stand,’ the officer instructed again, this time with overwhelming irritation.