Chapter 2 The king of demons

The Texas heat was unbearable especially on days like this, days where you had to deal with blood. Even though he walked in the small town of Ludwig, detective David Jones was never surprised by the crime scenes he encountered. Still, he sure as hell wished killers wouldn't be so messy about them. Forensics were already bagging up evidence and other officers were taking pictures of the crime scene by the time he got there.

"Jones" David turned to see the medical examiner, Cathrine Johnson, flagging him down on her way out.

"Hey Cathrine, what are we dealing with?" David already knew what they were dealing with but he wanted to hear it from her anyways.

As usual she was straight to the point, "Female. Mid twenties, stabbed in the chest. Multiple contusions to her head. She was killed about five days ago." David saw a trail of blood leading into the house and shook his head in disgust.

"Yeah" Cathrine frowned, " he killed her outside then dragged her down to the master's bedroom."

"What a gentleman" David muttered sarcastically.

"More like he didn't want any wild animal to take a piece of her" Cathrine pointed to the trees in the distance. "This place is so isolated who knows what could have claimed her if she was left outside"

"Well he loves to put his victims on display so leaving her outside wouldn't be an option" David looked at the blood stained ground "damn, it looked like he dragged her out from under the porch. Look at the path in the dirt, it leads right up to where he probably stabbed her."

Cathrine nodded "it must have been a nightmare for her. Poor girl, she probably didn't even know it was the ripper king that had her."

David grimaced, "don't even say it Cathrine. Damn, I hate that name. It just glorifies him into thinking he's something better than a killer." Cathrine shrugged and told him she would see him later at the station. David waved her off as he stepped inside. He was mentally prepared for what he could see but even after being in law enforcement for over fifteen years, it still bothered him to deal with so much blood.

"Sucks to be the SOB that owns this house. Can you imagine coming home and finding this in your bed?" David was asked by his partner, Detective Paul Wilson. Paul was handsome, young and he possessed a laidback attitude that David didn't appreciate.

"Yeah, sucks to be him" David muttered. Really he was thinking "sucks to be this poor girl" she was his third victim in two months. A young girl in a pepper red taffeta gown was on a bed with her hands on her stomach, she was encircled in a shroud of her own blood. As David Jones forced his eyes to look towards her head, he saw what he didn't want to see. The girl's face had been skinned and was only left with her bloody skull. On her skull was a delicate crown of small white flowers. It was then he noticed something that hadn't been in the other crime scenes.

"Son of a bitch" Jones whispered.

Above her on the wall, written in her own blood were the words, "The search for my queen continues."

~ACROSS TOWN~

Listening to her police scanner in the Ludwig news building, reporter Grace Smith smiled when she heard there had been another murder outside the city limits. Her hand itched in anticipation because she already knew who the murderer was, it was the ripper king, her ripper king. Grace smiled, coming up with the moniker 'Ripper king' was pure genius on her part, because he always rips the faces of his victims off.

She didn't condone murder but when it helped her career along, she couldn't honestly say that she hated it either. After finding out that the man behind the murder places a crown of flowers on heads of his victims, she thought it would be fitting to refer him as a king. This coupled with the fact that he also rips off their faces... almost demonic, made Grace come up with the nickname 'The ripper king'. Like a mother naming her child, Grace grew attached to the ripper king. She often reminded herself that what he was doing was wrong and he needed to be caught. But a small part of her still considers him hers in a way. "Ugh, I'm so twisted" Grace said disgustingly to herself.

"Smith, is your story almost done?" Grace turned to her editor James Stones, standing a few feets away from her.

He was a stickler for deadlines. She stood up and winked at him, "it's about half way written James, I just got the lead I was looking for."

James shock his head in disapproval, "I think you're starting to get obsessed with that ripper king"

Grace laughed "are you calling me one of his disciples?" The ripper king had gotten quite famous online and new threads created by his fans who were calling themselves his disciples. Grace could only imagine what sort of depraved humans worshipped a serial killer. She shuddered at the thought and turned back to James "I'm not obsessed with the ripper king, I'm obsessed with having the best headlines."

"Yeah? Well I expect a good one out for tomorrow's paper and you're running out of time" he raised his arm and tapped his watch for emphasis.

Grace gave a mock salute when he passed her desk "yes sir." Before she left, she looked at a framed picture of her parents. It was identical to the picture she wore in a locket around her neck. She stared at the picture of her parents and sighed. Don't worry mom and dad, unlike you two I'd be careful."

After she left the news building, she drove to the address that was mentioned on the scanner. Police cars littered the property. A distraught looking man was talking to a police officer and a woman was standing next to him. "Probably the wife" Grace thought. She looked visibly upset and kept on biting her fingernails in nervousness. Grace approached them after the police officer walked away, "hello, are you two the owners of the house?"

The man was a portly fellow and clearly a hunter if Grace had to judge him by the matching camouflage pants and shirt he was putting on. He seemed willing to tell his story again, "yes ma'am, we had gone to my wife's sister's house for a few days. When we came back the house stunk to high heaven. We called the cops as soon as we found out what had happened. I almost upchucked my liver, I was so shocked."

Grace smiled emphatically and asked, "did anyone else have access to your home? Did it look like someone had broken in?"

The man looked abashed and shook his head "we don't always lock the doors since no one ever comes out here. If we had been home, this wouldn't have happened."

Don't blame yourself Fred. No one could have expected this" his wife murmured in between biting her fingers.

Grace asked one last question, "so you don't have any idea who the victim was?"

They both shook their heads, the wife said "I can't believe it, there was so much blood. I'll probably have nightmares for weeks."

Grace knew from some of her officer friends that the ripper king rips the faces of his victims. She would bet good money that it was a blood bath in there. The thought made her shudder, sometimes her job forced her to be braver than she wanted to be.

"It was the ripper king, wasn't it? And he said he's gonna keep on killing" the wife shook her head "Fred maybe we should move."

Grace caught on to her previous statement "what do you mean keep on killing?"

The wife spat out a piece of her fingernail and answered "it's so horrible, he wrote it on the wall in her blood. Fred said it was red paint, but I think he was just trying to make me feel better. I mean, where will the killer find red paint from? Unless he brought it with him but I doubt that, Fred must have lied. He knows I hate blood."

"She gets real squeamish when I bring home my kills for hunting" Fred supplied to an uncaring Grace.