Chapters of Chastication
Exercise in Supidity
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Fourth Chapter: The Creep's Psychological Profile
Roberta Mackenzie remained back at the office after
Fielding, the psychiatrist, and the others had left to
attend the crime scene.
The space was eerie with its silence and overhead
fluorescent lighting. The phones rang unanswered as she
walked past to her own workstation in the corner. She
slipped her shoes off and stretched her legs under the
desk, catching her reflection in the monitor and shuddered
inwardly at the heavy-handed color smeared above her eyes
and the bright pink slashing both cheeks.
Although she was tired and in desperate need of a beer and
a bath, her interest had been fixed on the Power’s report.
She flipped open the folder and started to skim over the
“Christ Jesus, “ she swore aloud. “He’s one sick son of a
The report read like something from a Hollywood movie
script. It was unbelievable, unthinkable, predictable, yet
oddly capable of keeping a reading spell-bound with
snippets of information that she could only call morbidly
fascinating. Suddenly, the face had a body of history
behind him and was not just a Beast, but a living,
breathing waste of humanity.
The pieces started to fit together. The evidence collected
at the scene of the crimes had yielded a great deal of
information. It all made sense. Five hours, a call to other
police forces, a child protection services in another part
of the state, and an extensive Internet search and she
jumped up with a start. She snatched up her phone and
pressed in numbers in rapid order.
“Fielding, Bobbi here. Yeah? How many? Son of a bitch.
Yeah, yeah. Look, I know who the Creep is. I know who he
is and if you go now, you may just catch the son of a
bitch. I have one more piece to work out, but I’ll call
you. Something about the gas station vic that seems to be
connected. Same M.O, but something’s messed up. See,
she's not like the hookers. She doesn't look like a fat
old lady like the others did. Got a pen? Here’s where to
find the Creep…”
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