HOUSE OF BROKEN SOULS Part 18
Warnings: This Chapter: None. Overall: Slash, sexually explicit content, graphic violence
The fiction includes a mental illness storyline. I am not qualified in mental health, everything I know about it is googled. It's fantasy folks, please don't shoot me though helpful criticism is always welcomed.
*Not real. The folks aren't mine. No damage intended.
A big thankyou to Lia (Cheebles) for all her help ((hugs))
The Players
In 2007 two bodies were found in an abandoned warehouse near Richardson, Dallas. They had been systematically tortured. A deck of playing cards was strewn across the ravaged bodies and poker chips were stacked to one side. The victims were identified as a local psychiatrist and one of his patients. Neither had a history of gambling and both had been reported missing in the preceding week. Dallas detectives Jensen Ackles and Chad Michael Murray had been assigned the case in that first chaotic week of the investigation, and they had both been there when a letter had been received, addressed to Jensen. It contained a fingernail from each victim and a note,
“He knew the rules of The Game. He lost. Be careful how you play.”
Detective Jensen Ackles had a specialism and a dogged commitment to that skill. His ability to follow electronic and digital trails was singular. Within months, he had identified a former patient of the murdered psychiatrist as prime suspect and traced purchases, car rentals, bus tickets and fake identities that placed Karl Laing in the vicinity of the crime scene at the right time. Unfortunately, finding Karl proved more difficult. They were always an identity, a journey or a set of transactions behind and there was no pattern to his movements.
Twelve months passed and they were no closer to finding Laing when the next call came in. In the Winter of 2008, the bodies of a camp counselor and a teenage camper were found in an abandoned shack. A pack of playing cards was strewn over them. This time a poker chip had been mailed directly to Detective Ackles.
Similarities were found and old cases were re-examined. A road worker had been found murdered in 2006 with similar injuries and a deck of cards by his side. It was looking like Karl Laing was a serial killer stepping up his game, so to speak.
In September 2009 Jensen received a further note, on human skin, and all hell had broken loose.
“I’m still playing the home advantage. Did you find the away teams yet? We haven’t found any winners. You haven’t found all the losers.”
The investigation had been increased and a profiler employed. The profiler was adamant that the note was a red-herring, just a diversionary tactic, but Jensen had been skeptical. He believed there was a second Player in sick competition with Laing. There had been arguments which almost came to blows and Chad uncharacteristically stepped in as peacemaker. No evidence of further victims had been found, and eventually Jensen had settled quietly back into his work and followed the leads he was given.
That was until January 2010, when Karl Laing disguised himself as a gas company worker and called at the home which Detective Ackles shared with his husband Tom. The rest, as they say was history. There had been no rescue. Karl Laing had played The Game and left Jensen crippled and tied in a burgeoning pool of Tom’s blood, listening to his husband’s last, wracked breaths. As Jensen longed for the release of death an anonymous call had been made. Emergency services had rushed to the scene, and medical staff had fought to save the detective’s life.
Karl Laing was still on the run, another year was fading, and here on the table was the evidence that, in places away from Texas, Laing had recruited other killers to play The Game and they had found more victims to be the pawns of their cruelty.
Chad reviewed the old evidence and the details of the unfortunate victims with Jensen, with a stony face and a matter-of-fact tone. Evening became night and Jensen’s attitude to Chad softened. Chad had been abandoned to all this by Jensen and he could tell it weighed heavy on his shoulders with the death of one good friend and the virtual death of another. “I’m sorry.” Jensen said, unexpectedly. “I’m fucked up but I never wanted to take it out on you.”
“I know.” The arrogance was gone from Chad’s voice. “I'm tired of this shit, I want my friend back and I’m sorry if my expectations have been too high.”
“So, we’re gonna do this, yeah?” Jensen tried to sound enthusiastic.
“You know you will, and don’t pretend you can live without the job. We both know you can’t.”
“Tell me what I need to know. Let’s get it over with.”
Chad opened the new files. Jensen took a deep breath and somehow managed to find his professional detachment. They got to work.
According to the ‘Marsh Killer’ the Game was simple. He was approached on-line in 2007 to join The Game and find a victim, a pawn. The pawn was to be approved by The Player and had to be a strong character with protective instincts. He was given a week to kidnap and condition the victim, after which ‘The Player’ set him up with video streaming so that the victim could watch ‘The Player’ with his own pawns. The ‘Marsh Killer’ had no means of identifying Karl’s location. Once the game began the pawns were given the choice, in turn, to submit to a named torture. If they submitted then they chose a card from the deck. If they didn’t submit willingly to the punishment then the opposing team’s pawn received the torture without reward, and it was transmitted back for the other team to watch. The rules were never explained to the victims. The only way for either killer to win the Game was to collect a full hand of cards with a pawn still alive. There was no defined prize for either killer, just the satisfaction of fulfilling their own sick fantasies. The pawns weren’t actually expected to live.
The ‘Marsh Killer’ had chosen his victim, a young fireman and that had pleased Laing but during the abduction The Marsh Killer had ’unexpectedly’ encountered the young man’s nephew. Given the Marsh Killer’s proclivity for children, investigators doubted it had been an unexpected complication at all. In the end Laing told his accomplice that the boy’s inclusion had been inspired.
Jensen absorbed the new information. Chad watched carefully as panic grew in the wide green eyes then subsided as Jensen applied professional filters and corralled his emotions into a dark corner of his mind. His mouth was working and eventually Jensen found words, "The laptop. He kept looking at his laptop. He told us....shit. Chad, we, I, let someone go through that." He crushed a plastic cup in his hand, "I swear if I find the Players, they won't make it to court Chad. I'm going to kill the bastards myself."
"You and me both buddy."
“He‘s going to play again within the next few months, he may already have chosen victims. That‘s at least three more deaths,” Jensen shook his head as he spoke.
“Shush. That’s why we need you,” Chad squeezed his hand softly. “We are sure The Marsh Killer only played once. There were two more games since then. We need to establish if Laing is using the same opponent or recruiting a new one. If he’s recruiting fresh then we have a chance to insert our own people.”
“By now he’ll know that The Marsh Killer is in custody, he’s not going fall for that.”
“No. The FBI kept his identity under the press radar. The initial release didn’t give a name and was vague about the charges. They can carry on blocking for months. He isn’t going to want his co-operation highlighted.”
“We’ve got to get to Laing, Chad.”
“We’re going to Jen. You have to stay sober for this, okay? I got you a number for AA, will you promise to use it if things get bad?”
Jensen pulled a face and laughed “I’m not an alcoholic, dude. More like a serial binge-drinker.”
“That’s not funny, man.”
Jensen fixed his friend with a sly grin. “Have you got time to go for a drink before you’re due back at the airport? We should go for a drink with Misha.”
Chad broke into peals of laughter as he packed up his belongings. He gave Jensen a friendly slap on his back, “I may have time for just one drink. We should ask the hot Sasquatch too. I am mightily pissed you didn’t mention him. BFFs are supposed to get all the details first.” He tilted his head and scrunched his nose as he considered his own statement, “Eww. Actually, it’s probably best if you keep your epic man-love to yourself.”
Chad received a slap to his backside as Jensen followed him from the room, “There are no details because there is no epic man-love, you dick. We’re neighbors,” laughed Jensen.
“Jen, now you’re really worrying me. Tall, dark, handsome and giving you the eye? There’s a type here, and delusions aren’t an indicator of good health.”
As it happened, Misha and Jared had left the Precinct long before the two Texas detectives emerged from the interview room so Jensen manhandled Chad into his cab, ignoring his pleas for a stiff drink before flying. He narrowed his eyes and smirked, “Who’s the alcoholic Chad. Huh?”
He walked back to his apartment after seeing Chad off. On the way home, he called into the twenty four hour store near to Madison House Mansions and bought three bottles of Jack and a six pack of beer. As an afterthought he chose a few groceries and paid for them to be delivered. He took the Jack with him and flashed a grin at the store clerk. “Don’t deliver too early.”
As the first bottle became less full than empty Jensen decided that a glass was unnecessary and took to staring into the amber fluid through the tight round opening before sealing his lips around it and swigging the next warming mouthful.
Sometime after he removed the cap from the second bottle Jensen Ross Ackles had a revelation, or maybe something that could be loosely described that way. He thought maybe his thinking brain was a little fuzzy, like a little furry otter swimming in a pool of liquor. He giggled uncontrollably. Jay wouldn’t like that. He’d have to rescue the otter. So, eh, concentrate Ackles there was a revelation back there somewhere. Thinking...got it! He hadn’t forgotten why he was drinking, he never did and what’s more drinking didn’t stop the nightmares. Huh. Conundrum. Had he ever had this revelation before? Would he remember in the morning?
And oh, mmm, there was the rest of the revelation now. It was a good one. Jared should be his ‘plus one’ at Mac’s engagement party. Yep. It was a good one, providing Jared didn’t bring any otters or squirrels with him. He settled onto the soft cover of his bed and slipped into drunken unconsciousness with practiced ease.
The next day, he thought that a good measure of alcohol would help him sleep better, and puzzled over who he was going to take to Mac’s engagement party.
Continued in Part 18 here: anniespinkhouse.livejournal.com/6338.html