Abuse of Chikara (book 1) (31 page)

People working at the station were more than happy to talk about the killings and the young men killed. There was not much luck finding who this guy was by talking to these two. They did suggest he speak to some prostitutes who hung around in the area. Of course, money was no object to him and these females talked plenty for good cash. Seems they knew of a guy who fit that description who had lived in the area at one time. Apparently, his sister had been raped and attacked by a gang of black men. They had both worked at the Brach’s candy factory when it was open. His sister was coming home one day from work when a couple of guys pulled her into an alley and wore her out for hours. According to the story, they had beaten her afterwards and left her for dead; and even tearing open and spilling candy she was taking to her kids. Their favorite candy was Skittles.

So if it was the same guy then he could see a motive for killing black men; but the people he was killing were teenagers, and not the full-grown men who supposedly killed and raped his sister. Perhaps they were the same guy. He would do more research into the issue The prostitutes were more than happy to take him to the scene of the crime. There would be no blood or body fluids at the scene from such an old crime, but he wanted to see what the killer saw and felt. No doubt this place held powerful emotions for him if it were the same guy. Maybe he had visited this place and decided to get revenge after his sister’s death. This alley was the perfect place for a rape actually. It had the look of something out of a horror film. He thanked the two prostitutes and left. Now he had some idea as to where to look for this guy.

He went back to his hideout and went online reading up on stories about the attack and rape that the police never found the guys’ who were responsible for it. There were articles about her brother putting up rewards for information on the rapist killers, but it seems no information was forthcoming. The picture of her brother he found online matched the image of the killer he had seen in the young boy’s memories. Now he knew who the man was and just needed to find an address for him. He would check out the addresses he found online. When he got his hands on this guy, he’d know why these teenage boys were being killed, especially since many of them were not old enough to have taken part in the rape. They could not have even produced sperm at the time the attack took place.

He had checked every address he could find for the man, but was unable to locate him. Plenty of black men had been killed in the month since he had been looking, but they did not match the m.o of his killer. Perhaps it was possible the killer had moved and changed his m.o to blend in. He went back to the Carpenter and his computer specialist with his program that could locate almost anyone using facial recognition technology. However, this was a special version of the program or at least the guy was special. He was named Veto and had worked for the FBI. A computer top-class hacker, he could go into company files as well as any government ones. Veto would use his program to find any likely matches. In fact, he had been searching for some time now. Finally, there was a match. Seems the man he was looking for had moved to Milwaukee, changed his name and identity and even dyed his hair blond. There was no mistaking that face though. This was the rainbow killer who always left GZcarved into his victims’ bodies. The man who always poured Skittles on his victims’ bodies or left them scattered around the body.

The man known as the rainbow coated killer or gz killer stayed in a small home on 513 West Pacetter. He was familiar with the area as he had lived there a few years back. It was a nice place at one time, until gangbangers started moving in and fighting their little turf wars. Kind of strange that this Hispanic man who had a hatred of blacks would move into what was now a predominately a black area. Guess he would find out when he gave the man a visit. This technology and Veto’s ability to hack into any government databases, and those of almost any private corporation, would come in very handy in the future. He would be able to stay on good terms with the Carpenter and this man. He left the unremarkable home that served as a safety house for the Carpenter. He had plenty of these places around town to house people or equipment that he found useful. The Carpenter kept the police well paid to stay out of his business. Quinton left the unremarkable small white house and walked toward the Greyhound bus, humming the tune to of the Andy Griffith show. He could have run there considering he could match the speed of most average cars on the road. Of course, he could not maintain that speed for that long . He could take breaks, regain his energy, and keep going of course. He did not want to attract too much attention so he would get there the old-school way.

Quinton went over in his mind how he would torture the man. He really was getting tired of the methods he was using. Maybe he could find some torture magazines or something. There were magazines and websites for almost anything online, so maybe he could find something. He could just kill him quick and easy or maybe plant a bomb in his house or car. The ingredients to make a simple bomb could actually be found in most hardware stores. The main goal was to take care of the animal. On his way to the rainbow killer’s home, he read up about a zoo that had opened in the area in the last decade. They had all kind of exotic animals. Exotic animals that were very dangerous. Lions were the ones who caught his interest mainly. There was a picture in the paper of people throwing snowballs at these lions. One of the people matched the picture he had seen of the rainbow killer. You could not see the entire face, but it was him. He had been thinking of a special way to kill this man and the fool had given it to him.

Finding the home was not hard. It was a decent-sized, two-story town-house painted mostly brown. He easily jumped over the small 6-foot fence and crept towards the house. The guy definitely kept his grass cut and the place looking good. There was a pit bull in the yard that woke when Quinton came too close. He quickly punched the dog in the face, knocking it out. It fell back on the ground as quickly as it had risen. He picked the dog up and put it back in it s doghouse. He meant the animal no ill will as he was here for its master. This doghouse was really nice. It was pretty large, heated and even had a special area for the dog to poop with plumbing. Funny how some people would treat animals like royalty and humans like trash. A number of homeless people would gladly live in this doghouse. Once the pit bull was put back in his nice, soft dog bed, Quinton went back towards the house.

It was a simple matter to jump up to the second floor from the back yard for a guy like him. The window to one of the bedrooms was actually slightly open. He simply slid it the rest of the way open and crawled in. He could have broken into the home easily from any angle, but did not want to make any noise. Exploring the place, it was a nice home with three small bedrooms. Maybe this guy had company over often or something. Right now there was no one home, but his target. He walked into the guy’s bedroom, sat down on his bed and woke him up. He wanted the killer to see him and know what was in store for him. The fool tried to rise and was shoved back down. He tried to scream, of course, but could not speak with a pillow shoved in his face. He gave the man a light blow to the chin to stun him. He then started to explain everything to him.

“I know you are the one killing young black men. I know it has something to do with the murder and rape of your relative. I know that you are now killing innocent young men that had nothing to do with it. I am going to inject you with this syringe here. It is holding something that will paralyze you for a good deal of time. Hours from what I understand. You will be able to hear, see feel and think. You will not be able to move, speak or react in any way. Understand that you are going to die this night. I could kill you myself easily, but I want you to experience the same level of terror that those young teenage boys felt when you overpowered them and sent them to their death. I saw you in the paper abusing animals at the zoo. You like being the bully, don’t you? We’re going for a ride in that nice blue minivan of yours to the zoo. We’re going to meet some old friends of yours.”

He easily found the car keys after a quick search and took some cash and jewelry as well. This guy would not be needing it any time soon or ever again actually. After he loaded the body in to the van, it was about a good hour’s ride to the zoo. Along the way he told the GZ killer some interesting facts he had read about lions. This was all relevant because he would be soon spending some very close and personal time with them. He parked the vehicle about five minutes from the zoo and ran the rest of the way at super speed with the man slung over his back. It was an easy matter to jump over the fence into the zoo and avoid their security cameras. There he found the lions’ den. From here you could look down on the lions sleeping soundly in their den. There was a large black rail going along the top of the lions’ den. Nothing to do now, but get the lions ready. There seemed to be two of them, one male and one female. One would be more than enough for what he had in mind.

He made a large pile of snowballs and started to throw them at the lions. After three or four, they were up on their feet prowling around their den. After 30 or so snowballs these lions were pissed and growling. He picked up the rainbow killer and lowered him down by a rope he’d found in the man’s home Lions slept most of the day and hunted at night from what he remembered learning about them in school.They were definitely up and about, and pissed that they had been smacked with snowballs constantly. The two lions walked over to the man who was unable to move and sniffed him for a few minutes. Quinton waited patiently with expectation of what was to come. Lions were opportunistic eaters. They stole food from other hunters in the wild and ate animals that had died from natural causes. They would even eat the cubs of hyenas and other animals. They started to chew through the ropes and were soon ripping off the clothing of the rainbow coated candy killer. He imagined it must be excruciating to be eaten alive by creatures with such large and powerful teeth. You could hear them ripping the man’s flesh and his muffled groans, as he could not speak from the chemicals he had been injected with. He watched as the lions tore apart every last piece of the bastard. After they were done killing him, Quinton tore open a two pound family sized bags of Skittles and spilled the bags as best he could over the remains from up above the lion pit. He left and headed back home to his underground flea market to rest and revitalize.

He was glad he had killed this beast, instead of doing something stupid like turning him over to the police. The police would have most likely just taken his word for it and let him off. At some point someone would have made a stink about it, and he would have been arrested and given some crappy trial. They would let this dude off. Give him an all-white jury or some crap like that. Fools would be running around talking about a civil suit or a civil rights suit or something. Taking money would punish the guilty party, but it would not bring back all the young black men this thug had killed. Maybe a civil suit could find him in prison, but so what? This punk would enjoy himself in federal prison living off the public’s money. Hell some homeless guys would love to be in federal prison. Why should the GZ killer get a free federally funded apartment with exercise equipment, health care and free food? Hell, if the dude liked men or was bisexual, there was plenty of potential boyfriends there. Heck, you could even get sex with women in prison these days. The Producer had banged some female guards from what he had heard. No, what he had done was for the best.

In this society, people did not care about what happened to young black men. Some people from the other races did not care, sometimes black people did not seem to care themselves. Look how they let their young men walk around with their pants sagging looking like fucking fools. How many of these black men had no fathers in the home. How many of their parents gave them any real guidance, love or teaching on how to be real men and upstanding young men. He killed this animal because he deserved it, but also to avoid the circus from racist whites who did not care what happened to dark-skinned men. Also to avoid the nonsense coming from black people who did not give a shit as long a white person did not do the killing. Black life is cheap and society continually fails young black men and women. Hope those lions appreciated their delicious meal of racist white meat flavored with a paralyzing drug. Not enough to harm lions, but more than enough to paralyze a human.

He saved a small amount of the killer’s blood in a vial. He would be able to drink it and access the man’s memories. He already knew the fool was guilty beyond a shadow of a doubt as he had found the man’s journal detailing some of his murderers. He still wanted to see it from the killer’s eyes. As usual the blood allowed him to access the man’s memories and see as if he was the person. Different memories were represented as numerical symbols, and he could pick which one to relive by focusing on it. This is something he had learned to control over time. Before he would simply be pulled into the memories and had no control over what he saw. It was the same with his enhanced hearing. He activated it by focusing in his mind, and he would see numerical symbols, which were Pythagorean theorem triples if he remembered correctly. He was shocked at the number of kills this man had racked up, and how many he was responsible for that he had not been credited for. He had been killing young black men for some time, and had only recently started the things with the branding and Skittles in the last couple of months. So the Mexican woman who was raped and killed was his sister. He had spent years tracking down the men responsible for the crime. For his revenge he did not go after those men immediately, but had decided to kill their sons. Of course, he had killed young black men that had nothing to do with the situation. He found that he enjoyed killing and rationalized the murders because of what was done to his sister. The police, or course, never made the connection to many of the teenage boys killed because they really had not ever captured the men responsible; so they could not know that their sons had this connection. He would take a day or two off from punishing criminals to relax and celebrate killing this sick bastard. Then he would try and locate Big Al and finish off Bill and his friends.