Page 16 of Natural-Born Cullers

“But without the security of a home. In the live stream, he’s in full colour, having already built an audience and running headlong with loving people in front and behind the camera, all from a riskier location that people could pass through. Tunnels. He found his new kick. Although ‘he’ is debatable at this point. Sex isn’t clear. There are many ways to rape someone.”

“Age?”

Gray tapped the writing on the wall. “In both cases where the writing’s concerned, there’s no capitalisation on function words, only lexical usageHinhear,Einevil, but none onno. Whoever wrote it is aware you don’t usually uppercase function words unless they begin a title, so not blue collar. They’ve either dabbled in creative writing or journalism at some point? But the phrase itself, hear no evil, see no evil… it has that youthful slur to it. He’s also trying to be cocky with writing both in blood and targeting families. But where his style offers originality with different locations abroad and his application is brutal, the concept behind using the phrase to decide someone’s death carries immaturity and lacks any real flair. And the phrase itself means someone, somewhere is turning a blind eye to something. So someone young, early twenties. With this man targeting families, it’s a possibility something happened in his family setting that someone turned a blind eye to.”

Cal didn’t say anything for a moment. “Maybe an abuse victim himself, or the abuser himself and he’s pissed off with being caught out by family?”

“I’d opt for the latter here. Only he’s not pissed off over being caught out.” Gray frowned. “There’s too much showmanship. With the cages facing each other and holding the family, he’s after full acknowledgement from the family for his gloryasan abuser within it. So the family either didn’t see what he was doing, or they chose to ignore it.” He gave a sigh. “But a profile is only a good fit after you’ve found the killer and set it down beside him. I’ll give him the travel between countries, though. That’s original.”

“Most avoid their own backyard when selecting a target.”

“No. He selects them through a different country. He’s got a secondary need apart from a taste for family playing out here, and I think this is where theobakemask comes in.”

“Shapeshifting?”

“A more contemporary twist: skin shifting. He likes a taste of different cultures, or more precisely, family with different skins. Japanese… German….” Gray scratched his head. “And because he’s got an established audience in the live stream, Konami is definitely going to find more from over the past two years, with the time taken to scope a victim, maybe at least another three uploads? I’d still say he didn’t film his first kill in Germany, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he filmed it on his phone for personal use. He’s got his love of live stream from somewhere.”

“Yeah?” Cal glanced where his dinner plate had sat. “Now I feel sick.”

Gray handed Cal his phone back. “I’d be cautious of this killer. Moving from country to country is his strength. He’ll get out before blood has time to cool. But selecting his targets? That takes time. It’s his weakness. You’re looking at least three… four months between them. That’s going to get them seen somewhere along the line, along with how often his passport is used unless someone is giving him the means to travel undetected.” Gray finished his coffee just as he got a message through from his phone. “Konami has the details. He’ll put his searchers out.” He flicked a look up. “Chances are this killer will keep his home soil until last. It’s there, how he’s saving his own for last because he’s running with their blind look his way and enjoying himself to the full before he finally shows them what he can do.”

Their sweets came over, and talk fell silent as neither of them touched the food.

“Let me know if you hear something here,” said Gray eventually.

“Why?” Cal folded his arms. “You getting bored of the administrative side already? Her dog soldiers follow your bark now.” Cal still didn’t seem to trust surveillance as much as Gray didn’t. That was twice now he’d bypassed mention of the cullers, more so their tie to the Queen. “Keep your hands and head clean. Delegate.”

“They’re notmychoice of dog soldiers,” Gray said flatly. Culler files still sat unopened on his phone, action for any of them suspended. “Roles are under review. But tolerance for anyone beyond mine potentially stepping on UK shores…?” Gray tapped Cal’s phone. “For this idiot? That’s even lower.”

Chapter 7

See… no… Evil

Alec choked but failed to spit out the bile in his throat. For a moment he couldn’t understand why his hand refused to move and wipe at the drool. His back hurt like he’d been lying funny, and the hard press of floor into knees left him groaning as something dug into every inch of his body, stopping him from easing the ache and hurt.

“Huh.” It was all he could manage. His jaw pressed down hard onto a metal surface, making it impossible to open his mouth or lift his head off the plate, and he only choked into a gag bit when he tried. A collar dug deep into his throat, keeping him still. Eyes wept as dust particles bit into them, and he blinked rapidly, snorting air hard and fast through his nose as he tried to get a hold on how life spiralled despite being penned to an unmoveable spot.

He’d lost Cane, he knew that much. The hurt in his heart echoed just how much he hated losing Cane to anything.

Something shifted close by, but the room was too dark to get a fix. Despite being unable to move, space played around him. A breeze came from off to his right, giving it that wind-tunnel effect, but so too did how his grunt seemed to echo.

“There he is.” That softer French accent. “How you doing, not-so-Able?”

A slap came at Alec’s face, hard, fast: once, twice, the third making him breathe harder as the darkness was forced to thin.

“Yeah, there you are. There you are.” A smile came from a disfigured lip, like the young man had a healed cleft palate. How had he missed that outside? Out there, he’d thought the gravelly tone belonged to someone older, but young… this man looked so bloody young, more his own age: twenty… something, with friendly hazel eyes and slim body that didn’t match the thump he came with. Blood still stained the man’s lip, and another trail ran from his head, looking all innocent… accidental, but a smirk came Alec’s way, a wipe at a mouth, and the young man rubbed blood into Alec’s cheek.

“Sometimes you gotta be the whore to enjoy the fuck, right?” said the man. The wired look in hazel eyes called out consent to his own assault, but so too did Alec’s stomach and how it somersaulted. There was no hurt in that look, just a… liking for it.

And that hand still stroked his cheek. “Pretty mouth, bro.”

Alec tried to move, just arch his back, but a rattle of metal came, pressing against his back and sides. Now he really panicked. Naked. He was fucking naked as a cold metal cage bit into his body. Hands bound behind his back, he’d been forced to kneel in a pen no bigger than a dog cage that left him no room to move. A metal collar added to the startled rattle of cage, and it forced his jaw down onto a small metal tray, more a serving platter for his head.

The man went quiet as he traced a touch over the bit in Alec’s mouth that stopped him crying out and biting down. “Dog want a bone?”

A grin, the man reared up. Zip already undone to dusty jeans, cock already looking wet, half satisfied, the man dug his dick into Alec’s cheek for a moment—then Alec choked as the cock head slipped through his lips and didn’t stop until it smacked into the back of his throat. The bit stopped him closing his jaw, but fingers jammed into his mouth made sure Alec didn’t try and bite down and trap cock between bit.

Alec choked, spluttered, each hurried and vicious ram into his throat cutting breath and swelling his top lip.

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