Authors: Stuart Keane
Bradley slowly closed the scissors.
Dani screamed. The serrated blades sliced into her flesh slowly. Every small, serrated tooth pierced soft skin, opening a ragged gash in her cheek, sluicing crimson down her front. Blood exploded in her mouth, trickled down her throat, and Dani began to choke as she felt the crest of her lips split. The tearing of her cheek, the sound of ripping skin and muscle, the vibration of the scissors that reverberated throughout her battered body, made Dani vomit, which exploded from her mouth, down her front and onto the drawers and floor. Her body thrust against the regurgitations, piercing the blades into her cheek even more. White-hot agony crippled her, sending her to the verge of unconsciousness. Her eyes nearly closed.
Bradley withdrew the scissors, the blades gleaming with blood and chunks of flesh and vomit. He released Dani for a second, realising she could do nothing and go nowhere. Her body was limp, sweating, shaking. Pain had bankrupted her system. He leaned his forearm against her chest just in case. He opened one of the drawers and removed a blue sweater.
Must have belonged to the kid
, he thought. Bradley began wiping the blood from the scissors. He glanced at Dani, impressed. "My, you didn’t pass out. Maybe there's hope for you after all."
Dani groaned. Her speech became indecipherable, blood and spit spooling from her mutilated mouth. Bradley noticed her bodily fluids on his forearm and smiled. "Hope, yes. But that was only the first cut."
He readied the scissors again, now clean, and performed the same sequence on Dani's second cheek. Dani didn’t put up as much of a fight this time; darkness was on the verge of consuming her. He separated the blades, inserted them into her mouth and began to cut. Dani bucked and thrashed beneath his restraining arm, her body nearly done for. Blood poured from the new hole in her face. A low guttural moan emitted from within the young girl. After a few agonising minutes, he was done. Bradley withdrew the blades and tossed the scissors across the room. They embedded themselves in the wooden doorframe. "There you go. You're now the proud owner of a Chelsea grin."
Dani said nothing, her eyes flickering behind their half-closed lids. Her head wobbled on a weakened neck, her olive skin was a few shades lighter from the blood loss. Bradley held her head up; her slippery chin pinned between two large fingers, and observed his handiwork. She had two slits spreading out from the middle of her mouth, about an inch or so in length. Her chin was a glowing, blood-soaked red. Her clothing, a mass of blood and vomit, would need destroying. Crimson slathered the drawers and floor beneath, as well as the supporting wall behind her. Her kicking and fighting had turned the room into a slaughterhouse.
"Now, for the best bit."
Bradley took a knife from his waistband. Placing it between his teeth, he slapped Dani awake. She murmured, groaning loudly. Her eyes opened slightly, consciousness returning. "Good, you're still with us. When you find me, whenever that might be, I'll be waiting. Next time, I won't be so forgiving." He slid the knife from his mouth, held it before her docile eyes, taunting, and punched it into Dani's waist.
Dani screamed.
Her compromised vermillion crest gave way, the muscles in her mouth stretched and the skin cracked. The flesh split along both cheeks, heading towards the ear. Blood spurted everywhere. Red lines formed and then split – in the shape of a wide, crooked smile – across her face, the skin tearing loudly. Bradley observed his handiwork and laughed. Dani finally passed out from the searing pain.
Bradley dropped her limp, bloody body onto the floor, wiping the blade on the sweater. "You'd better come find me. After this," Bradley gestured to the scene before him, "I'd expect nothing less. You have to survive first though. Good luck."
He took one final look at the carnage, the massacre, and left the room. He walked down the stairs slowly, knocking pictures off the wall as he went and left the house, closing the front door behind him. Within seconds, he was in his vehicle, driving away from the scene.
No one saw him go.
A sound pierced the air. Faint, at first, but then more striking and obvious.
Dani opened her eyes slowly and winced, her body reacting to the pain. A slow, burning agony spread across her face as exhaustion threatened to engulf her entire body. She gritted her teeth and raised a hand to her lips, stopping an inch from her mutilated visage.
Her tongue licked the inside of her bloody cheek, tasted copper and pulled back. A second time, the probing muscle pushed at the hole in her face. It slid between the slivers of severed flesh, to the outside of her cheek. She licked her clammy skin, tickled by the stifling air in Teddy's bedroom.
It took tremendous willpower not to vomit again.
What did he do to you?
The question seemed foolish, the answer obvious, but it gave her clarity, brought her mind back to normality for a second or two. The thought of permanent disfigurement started to enter her mind. She fought it, pushed it down, and scanned the room for a distraction. She saw the door, wide open.
Freedom.
Get out of here first.
You're lucky to be alive
.
Worry about the damage later
.
She tried to roll over, to no avail. She closed her eyes and focused. Her equilibrium returned and time reset to normal speed. The phantom noise was all too real. The goose bumps on her flesh pricked.
Was that a siren?
After a moment, she confirmed it. The sound of a police siren was nearing the house. Its cacophonic sound, one that contained the innate ability to strike fear into the hearts of the criminal, made Dani sit up. The faint blue lights were flickering across the bedroom wall, projected through the window. Teddy's room faced out onto the street, which meant the police were near.
Is it a trick?
Don't be daft.
Dani heard squeaking hinges. The squeak was high for a second, and then died off. She recognised it instantly. It was her front door. Several footfalls followed.
Coming in, not going out.
Dani took a deep breath, leaned on her right side to avoid crushing her stab wound, and edged towards the open door of the bedroom. Her tongue moved involuntarily to the hole in her face. Dani forced it back to the centre of her mouth and groaned. She felt saliva ooze from the hole and dribble down her ripped cheek. A throbbing pain – dull now, adrenaline was keeping it contained – pulsed through her neck. Her entire head felt like a giant heartbeat.
Dani crawled slowly.
She glanced over at Teddy and felt a sudden loss, a yearning to see her brother one more time, for him to run past her, mocking her. Dani wanted to hear that voice again, just once. All she could see were his legs, his upper body hidden – shrouded in blood-soaked shadows within the wardrobe. Her eyes observed the bloodstains on the carpet, most from her own battered torso. Her arms, legs and front shined dark crimson in the flashing lights. A staggered blood trail smeared the carpet, ending at her waist. She moved her tongue back to the centre of her mouth and composed herself.
This was her fault.
She brought him upstairs.
If they'd headed for the garage – as Dad had suggested – none of this would have happened.
Taking one final look at her dead brother, Dani breathed in, composed herself, and crawled into the hallway. Sweat broke out on her skin, dampening the dried blood there. The severed flesh stung, sending pin pricks of pain into her brain. She stopped and rolled onto her back, exhausted.
"Hello? Anyone here?" A voice in the house beckoned, full of authority.
"Here," her voice came out croaky. She cleared her throat. The newcomer heard it. "We have someone upstairs. Secure the room. Medics!"
Joy washed over Dani, followed by grief and absolute heartbreak. She began crying and sobbing. Seconds later, torchlight illuminated her bloody, broken body. "
Here!
"
One thing was clear.
Bradley was gone.
"Ma'am…I'm Detective Inspector Scott."
Dani looked up at the doorway. She now sat on Teddy's bed. Her shredded face cast pale in the flashlight that scanned the room. After a second, the new arrival turned on the lights, flooding the room with brightness. Dani flinched, covering her face. Scott took a step forward.
"What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Da…Dani."
"Dani, I'm Mr Scott…you can call me Jack, okay?
Scott walked into the room, his baton ready, and stopped. His eyes rested on the wardrobe and the massacre within. Teddy's legs were poking out from the doorway - his body face down. Jack glanced from the wardrobe, to Dani and her bloodstained clothing, and breathed out. His eyes settled on her face for the first time. He saw the wounds, the gashes in her skin, contrasting against her perfect complexion. It looked like she was smiling, a wide smile like a clown, only horribly visceral. Jack narrowed his eyes and realised what he was seeing. His eyes flicked to the bloody scissors embedded in the doorframe, blood dripping from their blades. He lowered his firearm and sighed, then groaned. "Jesus."
Dani didn’t look over, didn’t respond. She was fighting the pain. Scott flicked his head towards the girl and holstered his weapon. Reaching over, he took the duvet from the bed and wrapped it around Dani, then ushered her to her feet. "I need you to stand up and come with me, can you do that?"
Dani nodded and stood up slowly. She screamed, the stab wound in her waist crippling her, toppling her back to the bed. Scott stepped closer to her, easing her down. "Easy now, easy. Wilson, I need a medic here.
Now!
"
"Did you get the…the guy who did this?"
Scott looked at Dani quizzically. He observed the blood on her clothes, noticed the gash on her waist. He looked at her bruised face, her battered body, the finger marks on her neck, and wondered what sort of sicko could do this to a teenage girl. He knew then, that he uttered his answer with complete confidence. "Not yet. But we will."
"He was just here though…"
"What?"
"He left…minutes ago. I think."
"You think?"
"I passed out…I could be wrong."
"Main thing is you saw the person who did this." Scott placed a hand on her shoulder. "Wait here." He ran to the landing. "Wilson, put out an APW to the local cars. The guy who did this isn't long gone."
"That’s great. Do you have a description?"
Scott averted his gaze to Dani, who coughed and fingered her torn face. "Dressed all in black, armour, balaclava, carrying a shotgun."
Scott nodded. "All black, wearing armour and a balaclava, carrying a shotgun. Worth a shot, put it out. Let’s catch the sick fuck who did this. And where's my fucking
medic?
"
Wilson grunted. Muted radio chatter broke the stifled silence.
Scott took Dani by the arm. "You're safe now, Dani. You're safe now."
You'll be going to the station soon
.
Maybe hit the coffee shop on the way back.
He turned around and strode down the hallway, arriving outside the ICU. Several nurses passed with a friendly glance and a curious stare. He paid them no attention and looked through the glass before him. The ward beyond held several ICU patients. His eyes roamed to the far left and settled on Dani. On her arrival, the medical staff had sedated her. Scott had lost track of time, but she now lay silent, covered in bandages and tubes. Several doctors swarmed around her. A couple of nurses stood by, watching, learning.
His heart broke for the young girl.
When he'd found her, she was soaked in blood, most of which was her own. The attacker sliced the young girl's face open with a pair of kitchen scissors and stabbed her, he assumed to initiate the Chelsea grin that now disfigured her. He was familiar with the technique. Scott remembered a case from last year that showed similar wounds. The victim, on that occasion, hadn't survived. He was a lot older. Dani had fought valiantly, only passing out in the ambulance on the way here. She'd lost a lot of blood, but she was a fighter. He admired her for that.
Preliminary reports from the crime scene indicated a mass murder. An unknown assailant stormed the household, killed Dani's parents before slaughtering her brother and then torturing her. The torture could have gone on for hours. The kid's bedroom showed signs of struggle and mass bloodletting. Once he figured the brother had died in an enclosed space, he realised just how much blood she'd lost. Scott watched the doctors, their frenzy now controlled, no longer as important or hurried as when they'd arrived.
Dani was safe.
Scott watched TV shows. In emergencies, people shouted words like
'stat'
and
'clear'
and a variety of medical jargon, usually accompanied by paddles or fancy gadgets if something serious was going on. That wasn’t happening here. Everything was calm. Scott didn’t expect the TV shows to be accurate at all, but he took it as a good sign that everything was running quietly. People weren’t panicking; they were in control.
He placed his thumbs in his pockets and flattened his palms on his thighs. After a second, he started drumming with them, calming himself.
You may have saved the girls life tonight, but at what cost?
He'd seen the scars, the damage, and the tragic loss that followed her to that hospital bed. When she walks out of here, she'll have nothing. Her family is gone. Next of kin was yet to be determined, but he held out little hope of that being a structured future for the girl. He wasn’t an expert, but he remembered his sister as a teenager growing up. For a teenage girl, image was everything if the hour-long showers, his father's credit card bills and the expensive make-up habit was to go by. He remembered arguing with his sister, on countless occasions, because she'd used all the hot water or taken all of the dry towels. His sister didn’t have two holes in her face either, or a trail of corpses in her past. Scott scratched his forehead, feeling the frown lines.
On top of that, her attackers might come back.
He'd have to make sure that didn’t happen. How? He wasn’t sure yet.
Only she would ever know what happened to her that night. He wouldn’t question her about it unless absolutely necessary. Right now, he knew Dani's future relied on one person.
Him.
Scott rubbed his face with both palms. When he lowered them, a nurse exited the room, looked around, and walked towards him. He feigned a smile.
"Detective Inspector?"
"Yes, please, call me Jack."
The nurse said nothing and looked down at her notes, confirming her information. Without looking up, she spoke. "Detective Inspector, you brought the girl in, is that right?"
"That's right," Scott said, perplexed.
Didn’t she know this?
"Did you come straight from her home?"
"I did, she was found at her home, a crime scene. She's the only survivor."
The nurse frowned. "Only survivor?"
"Yes, the investigation is ongoing."
"The girl is in a terrible state. You probably noticed, she has three, very dangerous lacerations. Infection is a high probability due to the proximity of the wounds to her mouth, but we’ve run a course of antibiotics to be safe. We'll have to monitor her in the meantime. We've treated the bruises and the minor injuries, but she's in bad shape."
Scott nodded. "The wounds on her face were made with a pair of kitchen scissors. They're in a plastic bag for evidence. The third wound, the one on her waist, was done by a knife." Scott smiled, trying to help. "Well, that's what we assume. We haven’t found the weapon yet."
"Assume?"
"By the width of the puncture wound and the angle at which the weapon was thrust, one I've seen a hundred times before, indication points to a small knife."
"You examined her?" The nurse queried.
"No, her top was shredded…the wound was visible on the way here. I rode in the ambulance with her as the medics tried to stabilise her."
"Seems like you should come and work for us," the nurse smiled. "You're familiar with the term Chelsea smile? Or Glasgow grin? Or a variation of either?"
"I am indeed."
"Do you have any reason to suspect this is a gang related incident?"
"I can't say."
"Mob related?"
"Again, I can't say. We haven't processed the information yet."
The nurse made some notes on her clipboard.
"When can I speak to her?" Scott said calmly, knowing the answer before it escaped the nurse's lips.
"That won't be possible yet. We just sedated her; she's in a very bad way. She'll require surgery, a consultation with the max fac doctor –"
"– I'm sorry, what?"
"Max fac…I'm sorry, the maxillofacial doctors. This girl, Danielle is it? She'll need surgery to ensure the nerve endings in her cheeks are corrected properly. The lacerations compromised the vermillion crest – that's the red part of your lips – and the nasolabial fold, so the doctor needs to line that up perfectly. The procedure is very delicate, but essential. This girl has been through enough without having lopsided lips, and permanent disfiguration, for the rest of her life. As it stands, you could fit your entire fist in her mouth right now. The severity of the injuries is immense. She survived this; let's make it as painless as possible."
Scott gulped. The thought of it terrified him.
Poor kid
.
The nurse continued writing. Scott drummed his thighs again. "When do you think she'll be able to talk?"
The nurse thrust her clipboard down with such vehemence; it made Scott flinch. Her eyes glared at him. "Detective Inspector, pardon my manners, but this girl has been through a horrific ordeal. You noticed the wounds on her face? It'll be some time before she can talk. She needs surgery, stitches and probably speech therapy before talking is even commonplace for her. On top of that, she'll need to learn how to chew and eat, swallow. She'll need rehabilitation on her face muscles. This girl has a massive undertaking ahead of her. I couldn’t give you a timeline on that, but please respect the fact that your investigation will have to
wait
. Excuse me."
The nurse walked away. Scott rubbed his face again. He slipped his mobile phone from his pocket and dialled. After a moment, the call clicked on.
"Wright."
"It's Scott. Listen, the girl is in bad shape, but she won't be speaking for a while. Any updates on the crime scene?"
"We're still processing the evidence. This place is a slaughterhouse. Initial conclusion is that one person did it. We should have something concrete in a few hours."
"No worries."
"Scott, if you want to catch this guy, we really need her testimony to get a clearer picture. Our dicks are swinging in the wind here."
"Guess I'll hang around then. Keep at it and call me if anything changes. Laters."
Scott hung up and slid the phone back into his pocket. He walked down the hallway and fed some coins into the coffee machine. He sighed, observing the empty seats in the waiting room. He wondered how comfortable they'd be.
It could be a long night.