Heavens Alley - Chapter 6: Massacre Messages

Patriots Park was named after the brave soldiers who took refuge under her trees, when she was just a field back in 1940. Today it bore no resemblance to its former self. It was now a developed park, circular in shape. The park was built in rings, the outer most circumference being a running track spanning a kilometre, which was tread on by runners practicing for marathons, elderly taking walks and a quite a few obese burger lovers. The next ring was a patch of vegetation of vast variety: wild bushes, beautiful roses, sunflowers, weeds, and other flora interspersed with benches to relax and admire the view. The next ring was a sand pit, the children's playground, filled with swings, slides, merry-go-rounds and other play systems. At the centre was a doughnut shaped pond, at whose epicentre stood a large Willow tree. It was easily a hundred years old. It was always an amazingly gorgeous sight to see.

But not today.

Amora and Greg arrived at Patriots Park minutes after receiving the disturbing call. Somewhere inside was a dead eight year old. What kind of sick bastard harms an eight year old, thought Amora. They flashed their IDs and entered the park. They walked along one of many paths that ran through the rings diametrically, dividing the park into segments. It lead straight to the Willow tree. As they got closer, the crowd got thicker. Every cop, reporter and journalist was here. They had to wade through the sea of bustling bodies to get to the centre, and when they did, they froze, staring at the horrid image in front of them.

It was a sight straight from a gruesome horror movie. The willow tree stood still in the dry weather. To a low branch was tied a rope, at whose end was hanging, a girl. She wore a pretty blue dress and matching blue slippers. On a normal day she would have drawn infinite affection from anyone who laid eyes on her. Not today. Her forehead was torn open into multiple cuts and blood oozed out to paint her face red. The blood dripped down her dress, into the pond, turning it crimson. It was a grotesque sight.

Amora spotted Captain Kami Jones near the pond and walked towards him. "Evening cap", she said. He looked around and recognised her. He was about to smile but stopped, reached into his pocket and took out a photograph. He handed it to Amora. "Do you mind explaining this, ma'am?", he asked her. She took the picture and looked at it. It was of the girl, taken before blood had covered her face. The cuts on her forehead joined together to form small letters, which made a sentence. Zoomed in, it was readable.

Find my parents for me Amora Rey

The picture dropped to the floor. She lost control of her hands. She realised her eyes were swelling up with tears and her sight was getting blurry. In some twisted way, she felt responsible for the death of this little girl. "Greg will explain everything", she said and ran towards the exit. She had to get out of there. The captain knew her personally and let her go. He was going to have a chat with Mr Kingsley.

Amora ran outside the park, found a trash bin and threw up in it. She was unable to comprehend how anyone could do such an immoral deed, to a little girl. She saw a man selling soda pop. She needed to rehydrate. She bought a soda and gulped it down. She calmed down. Something crossed her mind. Knowing Lucifer, he probably had left her a message. Did he want her to find the child's parents? She couldn't bear to walk back in. She had Captain Jones' number on speed dial. She called him. "Cap, I know you have a lot of questions for me. Trust me, I will answer them all. For now, I need to know if you have ID'd the girl." "Yes we have. Her name is Jennifer Dems. Her family lives twenty Kilometres from here, in Trenttown. We are sending an officer there now, we didn't want to break the news over the phone.", he answered. "Cap, I want to go up there too. Please. I'll explain later", she lamented. "OK. I'll have officer Don pick you up from the entrance."

In a few minutes, she was on her way to meet the Dems family. She was going to break the news to them. She had to tell them their eight year old baby was dead. Murdered. Cut open and hung out for the world to see. She dreaded the moment, but she owed it to them. They got there in seventeen minutes. "Officer Don, can I go in there alone? Please? I need to talk to them in private for a while, and then you can come in to take their statements", said Amora. The captain had given Don orders to let her do what she had to, so he obliged. "I'll wait by the car, holler if you need me", said Don. Amora had the feeling Lucifer had left a message in there, maybe with a member of the family. They would not tell her anything in front of the cops, and that is why she wanted to go in alone. She walked up to the door and rang the bell. No one answered. She rapped the door. It moved. It was open. She pushed it, a feeling of fear washing over her as she did. It opened half way and stopped. Something was blocking it. She tried pushing harder. It moved a little. She squeezed in through the space. She put her left leg in, then her left hand and pulled half her body in. Then she pushed her head in and caught sight of what was blocking the doorway.

It was a little boy, lying lifeless on the floor. His limbs were severed from the body and strewn on the floor, next to him. She screamed. Officer Don immediately hopped out of the car, drew out his gun and ran to the house. Amora had wriggled her way in so he couldn't see her. He pushed the door and entered, gun raised. He spotted Amora sitting on the floor, trembling, crying. Then he saw the body. "Ma'am I want you to stay right here while I scout the place. The killer could still be here", he ordered and walked off. She knew he wasn't there. Lucifer had left a message for her. He had meant to lead her here, to witness the horror he had laid out, first hand. Don showed up a while later. "It's clear ma'am, but I don't want you to go in the house. Please, let me escort you outside", he said. "NO! I have to see", she yelled and got up. She walked through the narrow entrance that lead to a large hall on the right. It was clean. Everything was in its proper place. Nothing seemed to have transpired here. On the mantelpiece she spotted a framed photograph and picked it up. She recognized Jennifer immediately. Next to her was a little boy, younger than her. It was the same boy who was mutilated near the door. Behind them were a lovely couple. Their parents obviously. A drop of red fell on the frame. She looked up from where it came. It was dripping from the edge were the stairs leading upstairs met the floor. She dropped the picture and ran up. There was a room to the right just after the stairs ended. There was blood seeping from the sill. She opened the door and gasped. On the floor was a man. He lay still on the floor, his face oddly calm. His throat was slit open, and fresh blood continued to flow. On the bed was a woman in her pyjamas. She had no cuts, but her neck was badly bruised. She was strangled to death.

Lucifer had massacred an entire family. A couple and two little children. Just to get her attention.

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