Celetial Summoner: An Esoteric Paranormal Suspense Thriller

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Chapter Fourteen: Serial Killer’s Soliloquy

John came downstairs from Anezka’s upstairs bedroom, and went into the kitchen. Anezka was making Belgian waffles, and brewing coffee.

“Good morning, John. How did you sleep last night?”

“After not finding Mel yesterday, you eased my frustration. I know he’s probably dead by now, but you told me that I did all I could have, and now I just have to accept Mel as a casualty of war,” John said as he sat at her kitchen table.

“This all will be finished soon, John. He won’t be your nemesis much longer,” she said.

“I can beat him, Anezka. He’s not my nemesis,” John said.

“Yet you cannot beat him now. Your profession has rules to stop your vigilantism. You have been an upstanding, by the book, homicide detective, and I know you do not want to overstep the rules to stop him. You’re better than that, I know it,” Anezka said as she sat down a plate of waffles for him.

“You came to my house late last night,” she said. “You were working hard on your case are you not?”

“We not only searched for Mel, we tore Marvin’s house apart last night. He just stood there with a smug smile on his face while listening to his classical music. He’s just asking to be shot.”

Anezka saw John’s frustration.

“You have to follow procedure, John. You have no reason to shoot him, and angry frustration isn’t a good defense,” she said.

“If he attacks me then blowing off his head would be justifiable,” he said as he put maple syrup on his waffles.

“He knows that as well, so he’s smart enough not to assault you. Stop speculating ways to shoot him. You have to work this case, no shortcuts.”

John contemplated while swallowing his waffles. He knew Marvin was manipulative, and wasted to damage him psychologically instead of attempting to put his hands up to try a punch. Even he knew a bullet would beat a punch any day, and wouldn’t play that game. He wasn’t going to make his subduing easy. John had to work.

While he was eating his waffles, his phone rang his Dragnet ringtone. He picked it up, and saw it was the department.

“Detective Chandless. They found him where?! That’s downtown. He was cut all over his body. He bled out. Okay, I’ll talk to Larry. I’m coming right now.” He clicked off.

“Who was it, John?”

“Roark at the station. They found Mel at a sewer viaduct downtown. He was full of cut lacerations, and bled out. His genitalia was cut off, and shoved in his mouth mob hit style. I think that was meant for me. I’m going to the station to talk to Larry in forensics. There were some foreign markings on him, and Lar is looking them up now. I have to go.” John put his cell in his pocket, drank his coffee, and got up from the table.

“Are they sure it was him? How did they find him in downtown Kansas City when you have police watching his every move?” Anezka asked.

“Now you’re realizing why I’m this frustrated. I don’t know how he’s tricking us. Can’t you do some psychic stuff to figure it out?” he asked.

“My gift doesn’t work that way. I need to touch him to know his aura, and that still will not tell me of his intentions because his mind is too dark. I’m an aura psychic, not a tracker psychic,” she said.

“You have to forgive me. After you found him, I thought you could do anything. I still don’t know how this psychic thing works, and you don’t have a manual.”

Anezka touched his cheek.

“Oh, John, I still don’t know everything I can do. I just know what I can’t do. I know you on an intimate level so your essence has given me everything. That is why I know your future. It is still vague, but your future is an absolute ambiguity. I don’t know your details, but I do know your case will finish. I am not intimate with Mister Predjin so his essence will give me no access to future events. Being psychic entails the mental along with the physical.” She kissed him. “Yes, this matter will be over in a week.”

“Why do you always do that? You know I have to go. Your alluring lips are inviting, but duty’s calling loudly,” he said, hugged her, said bye, and left for his car.

Anezka watched him get into his car, and thought, be careful, John. The ending of your case is ambiguous so good or bad, it will end next week.

John drove to the station, and went into Roark’s office. He walked in, and saw Roark going over the raid report from yesterday night.

“Where was this sewer opening, Chief?” John asked.

“It was smack dab in the heart of downtown. We’re interviewing some vagrants to see if they saw anything or anyone,” Roark said. “Larry wants to see you. They took crime scene photos, and Mel had something he couldn’t read carved in his chest.”

“I still can’t believe we couldn’t rescue him,” John said.

“You did everything you could. Korso came in this morning before he knocked off, and said the team picked over his house with a fine tooth comb. Are you sure he doesn’t have an accomplice that stashed Mel while you were looking in the wrong place?”

“No, he’s too arrogant to have a partner. I’m still thinking he has a hidden door or panel to the basement he said he filled. Mel was probably under us the whole time while we were looking in the entirely wrong location.

Predjin knew we wouldn’t find him, and that’s why he was so smug, playing classical music, and watching us scurry. I really hate him, Dave.”

“Well, according to Remy, he didn’t leave from his house from any doors including that secret entrance in that shed,” Roark reported.

“Well then I guess he has another secret exit we don’t know about. Mel made it downtown in under six hours from Leavenworth. Predjin is a manipulative monster,” John said with his acrimony brewing.

“Find something, John. I would love to nail him to the wall,” Roark said. “Maybe Larry has something for you, he was rather insistent you come to Forensics when you came in, so give me some good news.”

“I hope Lar is wanting me to arrest this narcissistic punk too. He probably has something good,” John said.

John walked out of Roark’s office, and went to Forensics. As he went in, Larry was at his computer.

“Hey, Lar, whacha got?”

Larry turned to John, and grabbed an autopsy folder.

“Do you know what this means? Stenata nemla hrat sam v ulicich. Mohili se strazillo auto?

“What the hell are you saying? No, I don’t know what that tongue twister means,” John said.

“I was just making sure. It was tearing me apart as well, but since they pay me to find out, I did. It’s Czech for Puppies shouldn’t play alone in the streets. They could get hit by a car,” Larry said. “That was what was carved in his chest.”

John was putting the clues together quickly.

“Mel was a rookie cop that shouldn’t have tried to arrest Predjin by himself, and that Czech was a warning about Anezka! He’s going after her next! He knows he can’t harm a New York cop, so he’s going after everyone close to me!”

“Isn’t Anezka going to know? She is psychic,” Larry said.

“She just told me this morning that her gift doesn’t work that way. She’s an after the fact psychic,” he said.

Larry looked at his watch, and back at John.

“This morning? It’s eight twelve. How did you speak to Anezka earlier? Did you spend the night or something?” Larry asked not being serious.

John kept forgetting everyone didn’t know about those two. He had to tell Larry the news.

“I did spend the night, Lar. I’m seeing Anezka right now.”

Larry was kidding. He knew how John felt about psychic profilers, and seeing one wasn’t in the cards for him.

“You’re screwing with me. You always thought that a psychic profiler was a snake oil salesman.”

“Anezka showed me how narrow minded I was, and I’m not screwing with you, we’re a couple.”

Larry had to believe him. His doubts was hindering John’s investigation.

“Then I guess you better go get her.”

“Anezka’s the antithesis of a damsel in distress. She’ll get out of the tree whether I come to rescue her or not, but you’re right. I, at least, have to tell her.”

Larry had a curious look.

“Can’t you just call her?”

“I could do that, Lar, but I left her high and dry this morning coming here. Now that I know the information, and I don’t have to investigate because you have every angle of the crime scene, I would rather go back to ‘protect’ her,” John said emphasizing the word protect.

“Here, CSU signed off on it already.” Larry gave him the evidence folder, and he left for Roark’s office.

John came into Roark’s office, and showed him the autopsy folder.

“He’s going after Anezka. I have to tell her.”

“What did Larry find?” Roark asked.

“A message in Czech carved in Mel’s chest. I don’t want her surprised,” John told him.

“Go, it’s part of your case, but I think Anezka can hold her own,” Roark said. He saw the pom-pom incident as well.

“I thought the same way you did about Mel. He did drop Korso at the academy. I thought he could hold his own, but now I’m reading about a lone puppy getting hit by a car on a dead Mel’s chest in Czechoslovakian. I won’t assume anymore. Mel’s dead body’s slapping me silly for that assumption. I’ll call you when she’s safe and secured,” John said.

“You were a New York cop, and I’m a KC sheriff, so I’ll listen to you this time. Sometimes the captain needs to learn from the soldier that’s been in the thick. Go help Anezka.”

John said bye to Roark, and left for Anezka.

John rang Anezka’s doorbell, and waited for her. He knew if Marvin even tried to harm her, something would protect her. He almost felt like an inadequate boyfriend. She opened the door.

“I thought you were at work so I didn’t tap your essence today. Why have you returned? You are feeling uncertain about your prowess.”

“I’m fine, Anezka. The reason I’m back is because they found Mel’s dead body with something carved in his chest in Czech to warn me that Marvin’s coming after you,” he said.

Anezka looked into his eyes.

“That is why you’re so apprehensive. You don’t think you could protect me, and that my guardian devil or some other demon warrior could do better. You do not have to worry. I’m not enamored with my devil. I still need the one I’m enamored with—come in.” Anezka turned to go into the living room.

John had just realized he couldn’t hide anything from her with her having an ethereal gift like she did. He followed her in.

“You think he’ll show up tonight? That warning was pretty blatant.” He took out his cell to call Roark.

Anezka became surprisingly vengeful.

“Let him try tonight. Please let him try. My devil will kick him to the next county.”

“I though you abhorred violence.”

“I abhor violent killing. If a child needs to be disciplined, I’m fine with that. He might learn his lesson if the disciplinary action is harsh enough,” she said as she turned on her stereo.

As Jack Teagarden’s trombone began to ring out with its jazzy sounds, John began to think.

Marvin is stepping into Anezka’s realm now, and he is in no way ready. He got in contact with Roark, and told him everything was fine for now, but he would be ready for the firestorm.

“So you just needed me to tell you because you didn’t know,” he assumed.

“Why are you always business? I would never be harmed by him. I have constant paranormal protection. I didn’t need you to tell me anything. I need you because you’re you. When this whole matter is over, I would still need you.” She began to smile as the jazz filled the room.

She made his uneasiness of his archaic man protecting the woman actions inert so he decided to make this tense situation lighter.

“Don’t misunderstand, Anezka. This is just a case for me. I’ll use you until I arrest him. I hate schnitzel, flapper music, and Burl Ives. I’m just using you because you’re you.” He couldn’t pull off the serious persona so he began to grin.

Anezka was nervous as he was speaking, but when he grinned, she felt better.

“You’re a character,” she said as she pointed at him. “You almost had me.”

She walked up to him, and gave him a deep kiss. After she released his lips, he looked at her.

“You got me. I’m enamored with you too.”

He picked her up, and inhaled a different lavender aroma as he carried her up the stairs. Cab Calloway began his Minnie the Moocher as they ascended.

“My stereo is still on.”

“Let the dust dance for a little while. We have more important things to do,” he said.

“Why, what things do we have to do?” she asked feigning innocence.

“You’re psychic, figure it out.” John smiled at her as he took her to the bed room. The dust wasn’t the only thing dancing that morning.

Marvin was brushing his hair in the mirror. He was thinking about his deity, uQamata, and how, in his twisted mind, wanted everyone pure. He thought he was doing a good job at his vindications with his one minor hiccup, Detective Chandless.

He wouldn’t have even known of his existence if it wasn’t for that witch. She was the only one that would’ve known about him.

He began to speak to no one as his Hugh Masekela played in the background.

“I am Marvin Predjin, a Khambatan of the Xhosa tribe of South Africa. I am the bastard child of Nonyameko, my mother because Marvin, my namesake, and father left her after he conquered a Khambatan woman.

My father showed me the ways of debauchery and callousness of European, and Western civilizations by his abandonment of my mother and me.

uQamata would never tolerate a noncommittal individual living, so when I learned of all the darkness of this country’s history, and almost every American who weren’t native considered themselves patriots of this country, no matter how bloody the birth, I took it upon myself to vindicate the people of this nation.

I am listening to you, uQamata. I am punishing these wayward souls tainted by this heinous society. If they are pure, I let them go. I am not as barbarous as these so called patriots. I am not as evil as them.

Once I alleviate all of the factors of my hindrance, I will continue my vindications under the instructions of your philosophy. I will always be your servant, uQamata.”

Marvin was set in his ways of his vindications. He didn’t think of the evil he doled out under his interpretation of his deity uQamata. He believed in a vengeful, not peaceful outcome for everyone. After what he witnessed from his upbringing surrounded by Apartheid, violence was natural in his life. Peace was a foreign entity.

After he finished his grooming, Marvin put his ski mask in his pocket, and waited for the evening to engulf the sun. Working in the light wasn’t the most ideal way to vindicate with the police outside watching. He was going to access the sewer via his basement opening. The one they didn’t know about. He would continue his vindications. His god, uQamata deserved it.

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