Part 3
As hard as it was to read the details of my friend and his families grisly murders, I quickly became engulfed in it. To finally see the crime scene photos and thorough details of what happened beyond the window in which I spectated, it felt almost completing. I finally knew. According to the reports, Jason's parents were killed first. As they lay in their beds sleeping, the unknown assailant shoved a blade approximately ten inches in length with one into Jason's mothers throat. Since vocal cords were severed she was unable to scream, or make any other sounds besides the gurgling of blood filling her lungs. Immediately after, his step father was handled in the same fashion. Once both victims were incapacitated, the demon went to work on their bowels.
He did this for fun, and wanted to leave a scene of what he thought I'm sure as artwork. Next was Jason's room. Evidentially he was still awake and jumped out of bed once the killer entered his room. Evidence showed Jason was standing upright when he was struck in the left side of the throat with the same type of blade used on his patents. Once down, his body was done the same as the other two. What was left in that house was enough to make Jack the Ripper blush.
I searched through cold case files and found another case from the near by city of Baytown. Same M.O., same style weapon used, single female victim in her late teens. This case was from 2006. My partner, detective Carl Anderson, was hesitant to even glance at these files with me. He said they made his stomach turn. He was in his mid forties, a little over sized and about as nice as they come. Couldn't see this guy investigating crime scenes with dead bodies, but he'd been on the force for 20 years so he must've been good for something. Fetching the office donuts was the only thing I noticed he was good for. For the next year or so, we handled small homicide cases together, gang shootings, domestic killings. Normal stuff. I had made a decent name for myself as a good detective and great interrogator.
They started letting me handle my own cases, but these small things were almost getting in the way of my main objective. As I sifted through the cold case files everyday, my nights got worse and dreams more vivid. Now that I knew what the crime scenes of my cases of interest actually looked like, when I was able to sleep I was there. Going from house to house, bedroom to bedroom watching the demon do his worst as I watched like a fly on the walls of these houses of horror. My night terrors began again. I was waking up in cold sweats from these nightmares, afraid that I was the next one to be turned inside out.
I saw my son every once in a while. He was old enough now to realize his father was a piece of shit dead beat, and he really wanted nothing to do with me. His mother had been re married for years now, and his step father was much more to him than I could even dream about being. He did all the fatherly things with him that my job (and obsession with a demon) wouldn't allow me to do. I could see the hatred for me in my sons eyes. The emptiness in his eyes that I saw when I talked to him let me know that I was long gone to him. He seemed to have gotten some of my genes though, and not the good side.
His mother told me of his night terrors and anxieties. I know how the poor kid felt. These things can take a toll on any person, especially a child as young as Collin. All I could hope for is that maybe he could turn it all around and be a better man than I.
Two months into being a lead detective I caught whim of a homicide case in a city about 80 miles from Houston. The city of Beaumont, about 100,000 plus people, had a murder on their hands that mimicked the slayings I've been chasing. It was a married couple this time. Male 29 years old and female 28. Same style blade and both lying in bed presumably asleep. Jabs to the throat first, then the horrid mutilation followed suit. Identical to the others step by step. No signs of forced entry which baffled detectives, but not me. I knew our killer was of the supernatural, but of course I couldn't say anything so I just played dumb with the rest of them.
In the Beaumont case I was out of my jurisdiction, but since the actions matched my serial killers MO, they welcomed my presence and let me look through their reports and case files. But of course, no witnesses, no prints, no leads. COLD
In between bottles of Jack Daniels and re-reading through files, I searched for people who might know the truth about demons and their abilities to manifest and walk among us. I ran into plenty of wack jobs who claimed to have fought with and/or killed them. Bullshit. They all acted like they were Dean Winchester so I called them out on it and they panicked. Just a bunch of internet wannabe hunters. I had plenty of chats with priests also, but they all ended the same way. "of course demons exist son, we all battle with them everyday." I talked to a lot of people in chat rooms that claimed to have seen similar things as I did, but nobody could lend any helpful information prevalent to my situation.
So you get the jist of the insane hell I have been dealing with. Do you know the definition of insanity? It's repeating the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome. Ha! Then I belong in a padded room! Since Beaumont I haven't found out anything more than I did when I first started. Chasing whiskey to the bottom of different bottles and running through women like I was Jackie Joyner-Kersee. Just trying to find something to fill the void that I feel inside. I know it sounds wrong, but the murders I investigate are basically meaningless to me if they aren't my demons handy work. Just go through the motions waiting on him to turn up again.
Now that we're all caught up on our history, lets get back to present day.
