Page 11 of Girl, Deceived

Ella turned to the second section of the case file. Victim number two.

‘And I’ll warn you in advance,’ Edis continued, ‘This one is tough to stomach.’

Ella steeled herself. She was no stranger to gruesome scenes, but if Edis was warning her, then it must be pretty bad. She found the first picture, then had to take a deep breath before continuing.

‘Jesus,’ Ripley said.

Ella took it all in. A young brunette woman, similar age to the first victim, lay disemboweled on a dusty wooden floor. Ella clenched her teeth.

‘Maywood PD found this scene waiting for them. They believe this victim was killed first, but was found second.’

‘He doesn’t want his handiwork to go unnoticed,’ Ripley said.

Ella nodded as the questions rushed to the forefront, the most pressing one being; what connected these two crimes?

But when she turned the page, she had her answer.

‘Another mask,’ she said.

‘Another mask,’ confirmed Edis.

Only this time, it was a different horror icon. ‘Pinhead from Hellraiser.’

In the dull glow of the crime scene photo, the Pinhead mask took on a ghostly pale shade, with eerily realistic features and deep-set eyes that appeared to be in a state of perpetual contemplation of some forbidden pleasure or torment. But what made Pinhead, or rather the mask of him, so unmistakable and grotesque, were the silver needles embedded within. The grid-like pattern of lines that adorned the face was punctuated by thick, shiny pins, which from Ella’s angle looked like the genuine article. The mask was placed with precision, much like the Michael Myers one. It was not carelessly discarded but rather set down as if the killer wanted it to be part of the overall scene.

Ella dove back into the recesses of her brain, recalling serial killers that used masks as part of their modus operandi. Several names reared their heads; The Texarkana Phantom, Dennis Rader, the Golden State Killer – but all of those killers took their masks with them. As far as Ella could recall, no one ever left such a vital component of their M.O. behind.

Beside her, Ripley squinted. ‘I’ve heard of these films but never seen them. Who’s Pinhead?’

Edis cleared his throat. ‘It doesn't matter who or what this Pinhead is. What matters is that we have a serial killer using horror film masks as some sort of signature. I don’t need to tell you that if the press gets a sniff of this, it’ll be a disaster. Not to mention this is over in Los Angeles, and me and the governor go way back. The FBI has a great relationship with California state and I won’t let some masked lunatic affect that.’

Ella collected her belongings. Ripley remained glued to her seat, and Ella had a good idea why.

‘Will,’ said Ripley, ‘I’m saying this not as your employee for thirty years, but as your friend.’

Edis pulled a new file towards him as his eyes met Ripley’s. ‘What?’

Ripley grabbed her bag and met Ella at the door. ‘After this is over, if you ever send me to California again, I’m going to quit on the spot.’

There it was. Ripley once told Ella she’d rather be dead in D.C. than alive in California. She had a festering hatred for the place, although Ella was yet to get the full story.

‘You have my word,’ Edis said.

Ella smirked as they exited the office, waiting for the elevator. ‘Ready to hit your favorite place in the world?’

Ripley glared back, her eyes full of mock contempt. ‘Ecstatic. Let’s just catch this psycho so I can be back in a place that doesn’t consider kale a main dish.’

Ella chuckled as the doors slid open. They stepped inside, and Ella pressed the button for the ground floor.

As the elevator descended, Ella’s excitement bubbled up inside. A serial killer using horror movie masks was unusual and unnerving, but there was also an enticing quality to it. An undeniable challenge. She leaned back against the elevator wall, allowing herself a moment to consider what twisted game might await on the other side, a game where horror tropes and reality intermingled.

But the thrill was short-lived, replaced by a chilling realization.

This wasn’t a movie. This wasn’t popcorn and jump scares. Real people had died, families had been torn apart. Every time she’d see one of these masks in the future, she’d think of real blood being spilled.

The elevator dinged, snapping Ella out of her reverie. The doors opened to a barren precinct.

Ripley sighed. ‘I hope our guy is a fan of just two movies.’

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