There I was, you guessed it, knee-high in entrails after a very powerful explosion as I smell the C4 filling my nostrils still fresh in the air above me as I walked into what was left of a gutted building. I then fasten my oxygen mask to my helmet array. The blast leveled 6 city block vaporizing everything in that radius. Good thing in a way that I wasn’t any closer to the blast and falling debris, you would be using an Ouija Board to talk to me.
You, see, it wasn’t me that did the detonation, but those I have been tracking down like a bloodhound. The ones responsible for this hideous act of terrorism is nothing more than a couple of CIA and MASAD agents posing as ISIL/ISIS in a false-flag psych-ops. I am shocked that the Corporation Cabal didn’t try to persuade the Federal Government that has failed us all so miserably that this act was planned and carried out directly by us.
Just be a remarkable chance earlier this morning, my facial recognition confirmed two out of a possible four to six cell
team is definitely in the area. This might be my lucky day, I thought. Unfortunately, too fucking late for all the untold folks killed in the blast. Seems that I have been a step behind them. I have my new orders now, and these sons of bitches ain’t getting away. Once again, the world will know the truth about this mass killing of the public.
My Helmet’s HUD Display came online through my black facemask — Non-reflected of course. Green lights told me from within that the live stream is in sync with the world wide web via satellites. I want every soul to know what is going on as more people across America are driven to our cause after Los Angeles was leveled by a nuclear missile from an American Boomer running silent and not so deep. Truth managed to get out and this false-flag disaster killing millions of people and maybe more kicked off the new civil war. I must admit, looking back, the Corporation Cabal is doing a fantastic job of getting people off their asses and forcing them, us all, to make a choice.
Yeah, the same old shit that fools every American to this very day is losing its grip making all question everything and finally stopped listening to the Cabal – The Federalists, aka the Fascist Regime. A few bad presidents later, I mean, quite a few since Woodrow “Sell-Out” Wilson. Personally, I would not call this rebellion against the establishment a “Civil War” but to overthrow the Nemesis of the U.S. Constitution.
Hence, the name was given to us all who have a dog in the fight, “The Constitutionalists.” For myself, I never believed in either the Democrats or the Republican Parties. To me, those slack-jawed motherfuckers were all one of the same. Man, I am the dog in this fight, and I am far from being the only one.
Here in the now. I am all dressed up for the occasion as I knew high over my head was a Predator Drone with a Hellfire II Missile with my name on it. So, I have to stay focus because of this slight issue of being a new crater with my DNA all over it. Meanwhile, the fires, the smoke, and debris still in the air would give me enough cover to at least track these twinkled-toed motherfuckers down.
Nevertheless, today, today is different and in this dream, I was in my element — My training never left me, never faltered, never failed. Moreover, that was a completely different time and a different government that I faithfully served. Now, right now is a completely different geopolitical world. New alliances made. The Corporation Cabal attempted to buy the Russians into the mix. I reckon the Cabal thought the Russians are brain-dead or something. Since the millions lost in Los Angeles, Seattle, San Francisco, and Portland, Oregon, the Russians stuck it to Washington D.C. not to mention, Maryland in quite the surprise. The Russians never launched a nuke, and would never stoop to such levels as the Cabal – But any government and or regime has its own corruption. The Russians are far from being halo-wearing self-righteousness like the Federalists.
The Russians hacked into the NSA using a variant of the NSA code, yeah, these fuckers are more of a help than an opposing force. The incompetence of the NSA is our best friend, this is what I am saying. Anyways, with all these hacks, we got control of a few satellites and complete control of all the nukes still sitting all along our territories west of the Mississippi.This, nothing short of a full-blown miracle. A few SUK-57s later and Andrews, what was left who didn’t jump sides knowing who really is the enemy was pounded into the historical archives along with Langley and of course, the CIA Headquarters. Obviously, that the CIA caught wind of this just before the air-strike by our Russian “comrades.”
As I maneuvered through the outer region of the blast, I manage to get back on track in hunting these dogs down. I thought, how in the hell am
I going to get through the vaporized zone. Then realizing that I am moving through some very hot spots would wipe out any tracking by infrared and such. Besides, there is enough shit in the air to cloak me enough.
Soon, I found them all above a nearby highway bypass high-fiving each other as I got Facial IDs showing who they are and who they are really working for. However, I find it shameful to have to say that these assholes are CIA as I zipped two perfect headshots. Closed caskets for those lads and now for the remaining four assholes. The clock is ticking and until air support comes in, I am at the mercy of this damned situation. I needed a fast way to get up there and get those ducking their fucking demise. Then with all the shit around to include the very same on-ramp they must have used to get up there.
I can’t stay where I am at. I know any moment that Hellfire II would pick up my signature as I could see the remaining guys yelling and crying into the radio in English of course. My heart pumping enough adrenaline through my system, I have only one thing on my mind and that’s to get these four remaining zipper heads some lethal booster shots.
I went into a really dark place into the depths of my soul. It is my primary objective to wipe these ass-clowns off the face of the planet. I have not failed a mission and I wasn’t going to break my winning now.
I manage to make it up to the highway’s on-ramp and up to the bypass. Odd, that the remaining four would actually stay low and now attempting to fire back at me. Obviously, mistake number three for them as returned fire as flashes from my weapon chopped them up double-quick time as those standard bullets didn’t have any effect on my outerwear. I quickly reloaded as I grabbed the radio and then I turned, jumping off the overpass, drop, roll, and found cover in the nick of time as the Hellfire II struck the area I was just at a couple of seconds ago. I didn’t have time to watch the last guy die as he was choking up some dark blood.
The explosion is intense as I am now ground level behind a huge chunk of concrete. I can’t believe this wonderful armor suit. I smiled as the fireball is going around engulfing me. Naturally, without the suit, I would have been fried a long time ago. Man, I have to going to have to send DARPA a goddamned “Thank You” card. Yeah, a good thing for the latest body armor from DARPA. I don’t think any of those assholes would mind. You know, their stuff being used for good…
For a change…
Now, in the all-clear, double-checking my weapon and suit to include all my systems in the green, yeah, I find myself very impressed with all this new technology that didn’t quite make it to the Federalist since we tracked down the shipments being hauled by train across New Mexico. Special Forces, my gang, we got ours first, and right away, anyone fighting on the front lines got theirs. Once the technology of this suit was jacked, we went into full production by the time Texas fell to our control. It didn’t take much for Texas to see things our way. I mean for fuck sakes, it’s Texas after all, and most already saw things on the same channel, sort of speak.
When the Federalists tried their damnedest to send in their Army and Air Force remaining to kill their own families, well, another great mistake by the Pentagon now laying in waste. Not even a scratch on good ole’ Abe. I cannot say that for the rest of D.C.
My com still silent and I had my orders accomplished. I changed direction to the east. My communication equipment is working fine. Combat Operations for this mission is just east of the Indiana border. My ass needs to get to the landing zone or it’s going to be a long walk to Indiana.
I have some time to reflect a bit on this morning’s events leading up to this moment. The only thing I am sorry about as my ears are still ringing from the new blast is the fact, “Too bad I couldn’t get to these motherfuckers earlier…” In the dream, I sure was contrite about that fact. So many families wiped out.
An indicator is flashing letting me know that I am running low on my oxygen tank feeding into my helmeted mask. My head’s up display and digital readouts were still working great and as I hid there under the ruins of concrete, I could not believe my luck as fortune does favor the foolish. The CIA drone dropped altitude in hopes of finding whatever that remained would give them one of the glowing warm-hearted feelings back at, “Lost in the Fucking Woods, Maryland. Oh, the damned look in their faces as they would think they snuffed out all the loose ends of this slaughter only to find out the public fall out once again adding to a very long list of reasons for people joining up with us, the Constitutionalists.
My auto-tracking picked up another target quickly approaching from the air from the easterly direction coming in fast.
It’s the damned drone that is banking sharply into my favor as I had the bird all locked in via my HUD display and synchronizing my weapon in nanoseconds. “Come to papa, bitch!”
I honestly don’t know if the good folks at the new CIA Digs got to see the end of my weapon pissing out lead sending the craft into a fireball. I avoided another death sentence and I quickly moved away and heading to my L.Z.
Man, I am indeed fortunate today and just imagining the long and shocked faces at looking at their large HD 4k displays going abruptly dark. That brought a smile to my otherwise, melancholy stone face.
Moving quickly to a ravaged bus, I hid there for a few seconds as I heard a cloud of voices coming over that handheld radio asking if, “The team” is okay. They were demanding a SitRep. Oh, I had one for them, it is gonna break their fucking hearts as I told them their bad news.
“All is lost and I am streaming this shit live to all the good people of the world in real time. You are not getting away with another 9/11 today, bitches.” Anymore, they or my forces would lock into this signal and today, I just didn’t feel like being blown to bits.
As for the streaming of all that I am doing, I just figured out there amongst the sea of dancing eyeballs would be some people cheering me on. I also know that Google is NSA and Google owns YouTube. They could shut down the feeds but organizations seeing things our way already are sending all this shit across the Internet. The NSA and the CIA can’t block out everything.
I ditched it among the smoldering bodies all over the bus. I made a run through all the shit just as my tank of air was exhausted. Still, I had my filtration that would remove some ninety-five or more percent of the toxic smoke.
I have to make it to the extraction point where those like me from the same military background of whatever we saw, did, hear, or told never happened. Nothing we could put on a resume — Bet that – would wait to get the hell out of here.
Chicago’s north side and western regions fell into our control and it is a matter of time before the east would fall as well. As far as the rest of my home state is concerned, we’re all as one. This, all of this right here, does my heart good saying that. It really does.
Then a Cobra Helo crossed over the cluttered street of burning cars and those inside. There is nothing I could do for any of them. My HUD said, it is one of ours as a sigh of relief came over me. I could see they had a lock on me and via the technology; they had me pegged as one of our own.
I know the gunship is giving us cover now. Yeah, there was more than just I alone as the others would be heading to the extraction point. As to the cold fact of how many of us were left?
I had no idea and again, something I couldn’t do about it anyway.
Shit, as I am double quick timing it I can see the Blackhawks coming in and the rotary cannons firing at some nearby trajectory as the Cobra fired two righteous missiles down on the location further ahead. Apparently, the CIA had more than just one team of “terrorists” for us to cherry pick them off at wholesale.
As I am catching my breath and keeping from getting too brutal in my mind as it is literally racing with images from Desert Storm up to the present moment, the rest of the northern states like Wisconsin and their militia would sack anything in their way in opposition. Indiana is in flames as most of Indianapolis has fallen into positive control. I kind of feeling some remorse at any of the possible Federalist controlled strongholds face all those pissed off farmers – Not really.
My heart felt as it is at the top of my throat. Fuck, I remember my crisis mode. Go into crisis after neutralizing the primary and secondary objectives later. Yeah, that’s me. Now, I am not quite out of danger’s way but I am out of another danger close situation as more traffic from my own coms came alive. Thank god, I was getting close – Oh, I have to remind myself that I am, after all, an atheist.
The body suit of mine and all those like the one that I have acquired, has its own environmental built right in and this is a very good thing. My bio reading showed a core body temperature of 101 degrees. I know personally, I am good for 107 degrees. Yeah, that’s my personal best by the way. Even with the robotic type assist in the interior shell and with everything, I would not have been able to do anything close like I am able to do along with every other old-timer such as myself. This suit gave us old timers the strength of ten men. Now, the Federalists are keeping things interesting as they are sending several thousand of their best droids are way. Droids have a fault and soon, we would have positive control over them too. These droids, heavily armed and nearly unstoppable by ordinary civilians are about the equivalent to a speed bump to the A-10s that are already on the situation in Indiana’s Eastern region.
Combat Ops had me pegged and broke through signaling me for a complete SitRep, I have a good enough signal as I sent the heavily encrypted data their way. They would all have what I saw and done thus far. Yeah, just like the net was seeing except my name, rank, social, and bio information.
I continued at a slower pace as others were sending their SitReps into Command. By the sounds of it, we lost half of the teams but in spite of this shit, we still came up on top as two F-15 Silent Eagles ripped the sky apart over my head coming from the west – They are our birds. You see, let me tell you, good folks, something. The F-15s never lost in a firefight since the first making way back in 1973.
The American Government didn’t know what they had in a fourth generation bird modified a good many times to be fifth-gen at best. Still, we now own the skies – F-35s and those fucked up F-22s left were like shooting fish in the barrel so I was told. The Federalists and their Military Industrial Complex spent hundreds of billions of dollars on such bullshit that is desperately falling short in their propagandized media blitz. By the time the Federalists tried to order the squadrons of B-2’s, well it was too late for them as we broke their hearts by blowing every one of that two-hundred-billion a pop went up in flames. Kind of ironic though, I mean seeing our acquired B-1 bombers doing the destroying from Ellsworth, Air Force Base just outside Rapid City, South Dakota.
There are many drones still up in the air in the east and no matter what they throw at us, we’re going to take down. You see, the Federal Neocons fucked up and put too much faith into technology rather than the human mind. Most of the Generals and Admirals bailed from the Corporate-Controlled Government and are now leading our side both strategically as well as tactical operations like the mission I am on. Those that didn’t make have got ass-fucked at the fall of the Pentagon and assault on D.C.
Keeping our cool and all moving east here in South Chicago can see another episode of swatting the drones out of the sky above us. The proof is in the sky above us and check out our F-16s now way above us with their cannons locking in. Hey, those little dark spots you are seeing up there are drones coming to an abrupt end.
No matter the Feds say in their propaganda, the reality is the fact we Constitutionalists have the civilian supported majority and the military on our side all focused on bringing down the corrupted powers that remain. Oh yeah, we definitely have the upper hand.
South Chicago suffered enough and with this latest False-Flag thrown at the good folks here, well, once again, more and more people are seeing things, waking up to things our way.
Maneuvering through the streets, I can see a few civilians coming forth onto the streets and cheering me on. Just about the time, I thought I am coming a hero and celebrity came up a heavily armored transport vehicle to pick me up moving slowly through the cheering crowd.
Tits, this is the end of the show right here for me. You can roll the fucking credits on the mission it’s a wrap. Now the sad thing apart of the Feds setting off the bomb and succeeding killing an untold amount of people about all of this is the fact that it’s my last mission. As I am loading myself into the vehicle and can see some familiar smiling faces as I too took off my helmet. Yeah, all of us look like we have had one hell of a day. Some of the remaining looked like the sorry end of a short stick. I fared better as I took a seat.
Before I know it, I will be back with my family in the Black Hills of South Dakota as more troops and those younger come in filling our big shoes. I know a couple of things, these kids are on the fast track in their military career, and the fall of the Feds is indeed coming soon.
Yes once again, the Sturgis Rally has descended upon the Black Hills of South Dakota and Wyoming.
In the past years I have discussed the mortality rates and the demographics of those involved in deadly accidents. This morbid but fascinating at least to me, shows just how dangerous the Baby-Boomers are wreaking havoc nocking each other off the roads in a domino effect – This is still going on and getting worse all the time. The experienced motorcycle rider already has the daunting task of the worry of vehicles and natural wildlife to look out for. Now this is compounded by the elderly on the rent-a-bikes industry.
This year I want to talk about something that truly has been bothering me since I moved out here some 11 years and that is how the local businesses including hotels, casinos, covenant stores, and bars escalate, inflate, fleece, to include robbery on these poor saps from out of state.
It’s a feeding frenzy where the average room at a normal hotel is anywhere between $35.00 a night to $45.00 a night. However, during bike week, you are looking at an average of $265.00 a night and some places a lot more. A bottle of beer is now $7.50 and the blood-sucking leeches at the Buffalo Chip will drain you dry. I think most people have seen a reality show of the antics of the Buffalo Chip – Fucking pathetic.
Then there are those who lease their homes out to bikers for the entire duration. This is something that the bikers and the homeowner both benefit from. Even the campgrounds rates are so jacked up you would be thinking you would be purchasing property rather than renting space – empty space. Pitching a tent just anywhere is against the law and strongly enforced. Fines, patrols, and law enforcement are out to get fresh out of state funds from the idiots who don’t know how to obey the speed limits or the rules.
I have no tolerance for idiots breaking the traffic laws. They are usually the ones making a fresh grease mark on the pavement when it is all said and done. I will say this much, local people to include local female drivers are showing more road-rage than ever before towards these assholes who think they own the road.
That’s the fucking problem right there, those idiots who think they’re kings of the road. I watched a woman scold a biker calling his old ass every name in the book. Legally, she was in the right and once again the Baby-Boomer was in the wrong. Though through these last couple of years, the road rage has increased dramatically. Not all can be at the fault of the bikers by any means. Nor am I saying all bikers are assholes and idiots.
So, with the fleecing bit. Well, the bikers are not as slow-minded as some would suspect. They know when they are getting fucked. Tired of the fleecing, the majority of bikers this year are out here a week earlier and leave a day or two when the Rally officially starts.
Some are planning to come out here after a week or so when the Rally is over. I cannot blame them a bit. Though, I have noticed that the local businesses and other highway robbers are following suite in jacking up prices in advance and keeping these rates jacked a week or two afterwards. So, who are the ones really getting fucked besides the bikers?
The local folks – we all get fucked!
You might think that Deadwood and the rest of Lawrence County makes a lot of money because of the gaming alone. You would be wrong. The money is the second biggest export out of here heading to Sioux Falls, the baking cartel and good old Uncle Sam in Pierre, SD.
Most of us in Old School Math where 2 plus 2 equals 4 might have had this on one of your math test questions;
“If Johnny had one red apple and he wanted to share his apple equally with his girl, Betty, then, how many pieces would Johnny have to make?”
Answer; 3 equal pieces or Johnny would have to cut the apple in thirds.
Glad you asked; Uncle Sam has to get his cut too!
Lawrence County is the poorest county out of the entire state excluding the reservations like Wounded Knee of course.
Thanks for reading and for the new kids with the new math. Listen, it won’t do you a bit of fucking good in the end.
Douglas S. Taylor
DarcWorx Official September 2017 Cover designed by Douglas S. Taylor. For the main story of, “Boy In The Box” click here. This story is based upon Actual Events of my Childhood.
Yes indeed, summer is almost over for some of us. Though, with this climate change we’re all caught up in, some may think that this summer will never be over. However, it will and when it does, it will end abruptly according the the scientific community in this field.
So, they are saying that the changes of the four seasons will be not a gradual thing like it was for a couple of 5 millenniums. Have you not already experience this for yourselves?
You probably have.
Let me explain from my experience this year alone. I am a natural weatherman and human barometer that can read the sky, the breeze in the air, and the actions or lack of in nature around me. You know the deal when your quietly walking through the woods and all the animals grow silent. Now, if you are like me, I don’t make a sound going through my forest here in the Black Hills. In fact, I don’t have to walk in the woods to know that something is amiss or unusual. I can read the forest around me while I am sitting here at my home office.
Now back to the climate itself. In the tail end of June, it grew to a record hot spell of 40 Celsius and that is 104 degrees F. I always preferred the metric system over the arcane and non-world standard of Imperial measurements. I am also a big fan of the 24 hour time keeping since I was taught this in my earliest days in the United States Air Force – Yeah, I am really a decorated veteran too.
So, the hot week in which for years previously would run through Mid August during the dreadful “Sturgis Week.” This is where we used to get our highs in humidity and seasonal highs in temperatures. Though, this year, completely different. Winter abruptly went into Spring, as did Summer. As far as Autumn is concerned, it is already here with temperatures ranging from, 16.6 Celsius to 21.1 and that is like from 62 to 70 degrees.
I went down the high peaks here in Lead, South Dakota to speak with the Tribal Elders and they booked me an appointment with the Village Witchdoctor who gave me his prediction about the 2016 – 2017 Winter conditions to expect. He rolled some bones and took a reading through his tea leaves. Moments later, the fucker said that, “It will be bitterly cold with less precipitation. Meaning a lot less natural snow.” I asked him what his version or understanding of the word, “bitter…” He told me like — 28.8 Celsius and that comes right around – 20 F. Since I am from the “Darclands” far to the north, this is just balmy weather. For others, people up here will be crying buckets.
One thing you can be certain about is the fact that weather measured over tens of thousands of years is constantly in a smooth ebb and flow of things. Taking measurements of hundreds of thousands of years shows that Earth has been in one hell of a range of temps and such. This is long before the Industrial Age. I mean, the weather in some not so distant paths shows that the weather changed so abruptly that entire species of animals were literally stopped dead in their tracks. Mammoths, Mastodons, and entire herds of Deer caught in a vortex from the wrath of weather either triggered from natural events long before we all got up and running.
Hey, everyone today likes to blame mankind for mucking things up. With the Chemtrails and other weather modification methods are certainly fucking it all up pretty damned good. However, the Sun, like all things in nature works on cycles. Right now, the sun has been getting hotter the last couple of years. The stronger solar flares with the blasts of solar winds drive away the clouds because the solar winds are much stronger that any other cloud forming waves and winds of deeper space – Look, just Google these facts and get to know the real deal.
In essence if the Earth was void of mankind, right now, the world would be getting warmer because of the factor of the solar cycles. Would it be as drastic without mankind?
I think not. I believe it would be less of an incline of hotter temperatures, but the end result would eventually happen before it would become cooler. We just expedite things with the not-so high tech weather war between Russia, China, and mainly the United States Empire. Yeah, you can Google that yourselves too.
One thing is for sure, Halloween is coming upon us, and in this, my faith will be restored as the Great Pumpkin will raise his huge orange head while Sally is on all of her fours is begging like a bitch in heat as Linus is balling her raw in the pumpkin patch as Snoopy is in a serious dogfight with the notorious Red Baron…
If I had a religion to pick, I guess my beliefs would be on the Great Pumpkin because it would feed a lot of people.
I would also like to add a thing about belief systems – Not the usual hypocrisies of Theisms but that of the lesser.
Witchcraft is not a religion. You practice witchcraft good or bad. Nevertheless, there is a strong measure of belief in it. However, it was never intended to be a religion. Pagans, which are either practicing Witchcraft or not have their own religious or superstitious beliefs.
Witches – Yeah, I love witches, don’t get me wrong. I can lick a dozen in a New York Second in my woods. I have casted some serious spells upon those ever so lucky enough causing them an uncontrollable protein spill of precious body fluids with my tongue alone.
And on that humorous note I’ll end it all here.
Thanks for reading,
Douglas S. Taylor
For Annette Vecellio, Joseph Mobley, Kelly Forward, and Laura J. Taylor
And to all who have been bitterly abused but has chosen not to become the monsters in a maddening world shunned by society.
We are more than survivors but as warriors.
Another man walks into the den of such devastating violence that just took place some time before his arrival as he folded up his Deadwood Police ID to be allowed just moments ago by two peeked cops on the front porch of the residence and steps ever so carefully towards the opus of unmentionable vehemence.
There across the other side of what would have been a deco kitchen is a mountain of a man wearing his long coat with huge shoulders that one may describe as being in two time zones belonging to a man sculpted by the very hand of god with the most hardened granite ever known to mankind looking at the smaller man.
“Be of great care when you come in here. There are so much goddamned blood and shit in here.” To the smaller detective, all of what he is seeing looks like a savage animal, perhaps a Grizzly Bear or an African Lion came literally in an unfathomable rage.
The younger detective took his care fighting off the shock and awe of the crime scene unfolding before him while missing the splatters, pools of coagulating blood in the obvious arduous process.
The older and bigger detective began to talk as his voice drowned out other below the kitchen and from those behind him. “You know that little boy that has been locked away in a fucking box in a locked closet down there in that damp basement. Looks and smells like fifty shades of hell. He’s been in his own mess for days on end. However, he got a hold of a steak knife and cut a new doorway through what remains his mother’s underage boyfriend.” The large and powerful man by the name of, Special Detective Stone Phillips stated in a voice that sounds more akin to five miles of a crushed gravel road.
Stone rubbed the bottom of his freshly shaven square chin of his rugged face His dark blue eyes smoldering then flashed about the kitchen as he lit up a cigarette.
“Feels like I need a little something stronger than this, wouldn’t you say?” Stone flicked his stainless zippo and put it back in his pocket as he exhaled watching his smoke cloud up around the single ceiling light above.
“I can see you ain’t quite used to the smell of all this fucking blood, are you?” He looked down at a much smaller man wearing wire titanium bifocals also dressed as sharply as Stone stood looming over him.
“So much fucking blood you can smell the goddamn iron, the metal in it all. When you begin to get used to all of this shit, then it’s time to get the fuck out of this cursed job and maybe find something in retail or something.” Phillips drew in another deep hit off of his cigarette and chuckled at his own comment.
The two standing there with the cellar door open and the Deadwood CSI Team hard at work as two street officers bent over the front porch splashing vomit on the cold concrete driveway from what they saw.
“Can’t really blame them. The two cops on the porch.” Stone reached into his long tan coat and pulled out a small jar of Vic’s and opened the lid from the jar.
“Just a dab under the nose will help you. Go ahead.” The other detective, a detective known as Joseph Mobley who is the very same that headlined most of South Dakota’s newspapers started out as a beat cop until the night that the entire world would turn for him.
Mobley working off a vague at best, caller of the possible address of Geronimo Juarez Rodriguez, the notorious rapist, and on occasion, a Meth Cooker, not to mention, a real low-life scumbag. Geronimo was someone that was protected in many ways by the feds since he became a snitch for them. Ratting out those involved in the meth trafficking in the region by the Banditos in order to keep his stinking hide from doing a life sentence at Yankton. The local and regional law enforcement in the past were persuaded by the FBI that the scumbag was off limits.
In Officer’s Joseph Mobley’s mind, this new information on an otherwise thwarted case by the protection of the FBI kept the local law guessing on these rapes and murders that led the public citizenry in the discovery first hand who were finding the mutilated and mangled underage female bodies all over town in dumpsters, just off of park trails, and belly up along Elk Creek.
In the minds of a few to include, at the time, police officer Joe Mobley, this “Hump, and Dump Killer” as the locals dubbed. A murderous pedophile that needed to be brought down like the rabid animal this predator desperately demanded.
With the new information given, Officer Mobley came upon the house in the middle of the night knowing that this is indeed the home of what they bikers called this monster as, “Harley.” More like Harley the fucking Snitch Rat Bastard. Joseph caught some noise from inside as some young girl was begging Geronimo to stop raping her as she cried.
In this fact alone, gave Joseph more than enough cause to bust down the front door with his weapon and light above the aim of the barrel, Mobley continued in a pitch-dark living room. It would be in Geronimo’s wretched bedroom that Mobley would find the scum raping the naked blonde girl. Probably just another typical girl that may have run away from home and made it into the grip of the biker gang to prostitute in drugs and money. Geronimo Juarez Rodriguez would end up getting new trim in trade for his trafficking deals, Besides, all the girls murdered were not from around Lawrence County. The scene with her spread eagle and pinned down by this monster was more than Joseph Mobley could stand even if it meant his job.
Geronimo turned up looking into the blinding light as he pulled out of the young girl. That was enough for Officer Mobley. Geronimo Juarez Rodriguez flinched in saying that whoever was on the other end of the flashlight blinding him in the act. Rodriguez yelled that he is a “…protected man.”
Joseph only answered back with his standard issue semi-automatic by emptying his firearm, a standard Glock-9 that didn’t do too much good at first Geronimo Juarez Rodriguez was jacked on Meth. Though every shot Mobley made was fatal in its own right to the heart, chest, throat, and finally a double-tap brought this insane animal down. An entire clip and in a flash, Mobley loaded up a fresh magazine and took a filthy blanket off the bed so the girl can cover up herself as he instructed her to go outside and asked her is there were any others like her among them in the house. Mobley would find three additional underage girls ranging from about nine to fourteen in age naked and shivering in the cold left to piss and shit in a goddamned bucket up in the attic. They were understandably terrified.
Everything else became a blur to him, the “Hump, and Dump Killer” was brought to a deserving end. On Mobley’s way back down with the children holding hands in a human chain. Mobley radioed for an ambulance and backup to come at once. The neighbors around the low-life awoke and two women brought coving for the naked and heavily abused girls. Joseph seeing that the girls were momentarily being looked after went back into the house alone and carefully entered the bedroom where Geronimo Juarez Rodriguez’s limp body rested. Joseph dumped two more shots in the back of good old, Geronimo for good measure.
As for Officer Mobley, he was promoted to detective first class and would be working on cases now and again with Special Detective Stone Phillips. As for Joseph, he didn’t mind at all working alongside Stone with years of street knowledge from his days in Chicago’s notorious South Side.
“Sure, Mobley, not a problem. But…” With Stone’s right hand holding the burning cigarette in between his fingers, “Look on the wall there behind you and notice that strange carving?”
Joseph turned and noticed a bloody patch running down the carnation pink wall drawing closer to it.
“What the fuck is that?!?” Mobley nearly shrieked and realizing it is made of bone turned to face Stone Phillips.
“The little boy is a fucking Michael Angelo with knives. Who knew? Not with a steak knife, mind you. The paring knife, a butcher’s blade, and the fucking very steak knife itself that he used in freeing his escape is all there in the sink filled with bleach and water.”
“But what in the fuck is that?” Mobley asked drawing for his own cigarette.
“The sculpture is of human bone from what we can tell is from his mother’s missing sternum. Oh, she’s gutted in the bath tube over there in the only bathroom in this house.” Stone pointed in the direction.
Mobley can clearly see that there is a CSI personnel in the bathroom as their shadows danced off the yellow door and the white wall of the room itself.
“I think I’ll skip that part.”
“Quite a masterpiece the boy did on her. I can tell you that Mobley. That up there, so I’m told by Doctor Annette Vecellio, she says it is some kind of tribal design of a devil or some kind of demon. She told me that the young boy says it is his friend? Yeah, I know, right?”
Detective Mobley just shook his head in stricken awe as a police photographer is a shade south of pale as his eyes wide open to this oeuvre of murderous mania played out through the illustrations of smeared blood made by the boy’s small hands.
Mobley is trying desperately to get his mind around the fact that this, all this malevolence was created by the hands of a young child.
“Hey, Jimbo…” Stone snapped.
The police photographer turned to Phillips, “Yeah, Chief?”
“Take a good photo of that up there on the wall for me, would you?”
“Certainly…” The police photography took the shot as Stone and Joseph standing there noticing that Jimbo is heading for the front door for some much needed fresh air.
“Tell me Stone. How did this all go down?” Mobley asked.
“Well…” There is a spark of light cutting across Stone’s dark eyes and pointing down the cellar, “CSI will fucking confirm what I already know. The little seven-year-old –” Stone is cut off by Mobley.
“Seven? Just seven did all of this shit? Fucking seven?”
“I know, right? Besides the kid is standing about so high…” Stone motioned the height with his left hand. “Yeah, about that high and weight about 65 pounds soaking wet in his mess. Doctor Vecellio made him change his clothing and helped to clean up the entrails and saturated encrusted shit and piss for days he was wearing. God fucking insane. Let me tell you something, my friend. This shit is what makes good people wonder if there is even a fucking god in the first goddamned place…” Stone’s voice lowered as he continued.
“You know, Joe, there are places for the likes of the good doctor in some sort of a pleasant afterlife…” Stone’s voice faded once more.
Detective Mobley nodded in agreement as he took in the entire crime scene of the kitchen area as Stone went on.
“The child, Dougray Scott was obviously tormented for god knows how fucking long, managed to stash a knife, that steak knife in the sink in fact. He used the weapon he concealed on him knowing his fucking bitch mother and her stunted boyfriend would go and lock him up – What they didn’t know, it would be the fucking last time as you can see.”
“How in the fuck did these monsters get away with it all along in this day and age?” Joe glared up at Stone.
“That is a question that I can easily answer. To cover up the screaming and such, they would turn that radio down there loud to cover up the hell going on in that fucking trunk.” Stone paused.
“God knows how long he would be confined like that with no answers to his screams and sufferings.” Stone growing a bit angry as anyone would then continued.
“Then the boy must have picked the lock and with all of his might, snapped the latches, picked the closet door, and threw that radio against the wall in pieces. That is what brought the fucking idiot down the stairs, turned on the light below to find Dougray wielding a knife and gutted on Michael Anthony Glenn.”
“You mean to say, this Dougray Scott did all that I’m seeing with a single fucking steak knife?”
“Yeah for the most part downstairs, and by the looks of things, a few years of pent up seething rage with about a gallon of pure adrenaline and a demand for a pound of flesh and then some. I cannot fucking blame the little lad one fucking second for…” Stone grew quiet for another moment as Mobley hung on to every word.
“Retribution, retaliation, revenge, all wrapped up in such a tiny malnourished boy. His mother…” Stone took a moment.
“As you can see by the bloody footprints of the young lad came right up the steps and kicked the door ajar nearly shattering it off the hinges as you can see.”
“My god…” Mobley’s mind is playing out the scene that happened over the course of a couple of hours earlier.
“Seems mother on her meth-binge came running right into a buzz saw of sheer animalistic rage. Dougray Scott snapped under all this hideous shit. Now Dougray had the element of surprise totally on his side as he began with a killing blow and slashing effect upon his mother’s stinking neck. You can see there on the floor of her choking spasms of blood. The boy seeing this monster now lying nearly naked jumped over her body for something a little bit heavier to use on dear old mom. She was alive to see it coming and that there, my friend, is a fact.”
“Horrifying…” Joseph could see ever swing, every action being played out before them by the blood evidence alone.
“I don’t know if there is a word out there somewhere that aptly describes all of this…” Stone lit up another cigarette as he did before.
“He jumped over his moms?” Detective Mobley asked.
Stone in deep thought in a very dark place inside him if only for a moment and then turns around to face Mobley looking up at him. “Yeah, yes, he jumps over his mother and grabs the butcher’s blade because it is heavy. He knows he must have, must need something more brutal to get the job done. Dougray, he begins to dismember her arms and legs hacking away…” Stone shows with his right hand holding the cigarette up to the further wall and ceiling opposing the two detectives.
Stone went on breaking it all down, “She is bleeding out as you can see and the effects of his unrelenting chopping and hacking. The floor here really tells the fucking story and make note of the arterial spray that looks more like morbid wings of some kind of hellish angel or something.” Stone allows Mobley to take it all in as he points to the morbidity of this inhumanity.
“Treat a boy, any person like this and you create a goddamned monster in your own right. Though this monster might be a seven-year-old boy, but you know the deal Mobley; it’s not how big the monster is, but how big the monster within that counts at the end of the day, and I am afraid based upon this blatant evidence that whatever carved a new doorway through that asshole down there is something much more of a monster that was running to meet him. And that too, my friend, is a fact” Stone grew silent once more.
“Goddamn…” Mobley nearly whispered.
“Now, Dougray takes the Butcher’s blade and cloven his mother’s skull as you can see some of the gray matter all over the floor and the goddamned ceiling above over there. Hacking away he then began putting body parts in the bathtub. Really, she’s all kinds of fucked up. Quite the jigsaw if you ask me.” Stone barely grinned.
Detective Mobley just stood there as his eyes dancing as the entire gore played out in his mind.
“I know you’re seeing this in your mind, Joe. I just needed to point the way. Shit, you would have figured it out all on your lonesome given the facts as I did earlier from the CSI guys.” Stone takes another heavy drag.
“How did we come to know about all of this about the radio bit?” Mobley quipped.
“So glad you’ve asked, Joe. The next door neighbor by the name of, Kelly Forward said she heard screams and what sounded like a ‘rabid dog’ — her words. She came up to the kitchen window there and peeked in. What she saw would sear her mind like a white hot iron into her memory. It will never leave her what she saw. In this too is a natural fucking fact.”
“I fucking bet,” Joseph added.
“Misses Kelly Forward is down at the hospital being treated for shock. She said in her brief statement that sometimes these people play the radio downstairs now and then a little too loud. She has no knowledge of the boy other than she would see little Dougray Scott that would smile at her on seldom occasion.”
“What is going to happen to the kid?” Mobley asked again.
“Like what happens to most monsters his age. He’ll become a ward of the Whispering Pines Sanitarium, hence, the state up until he becomes of age. He’s got a long and bumpy road ahead of him with the so-called rehabilitation processes no doubt.”
“Damn…” Mobley looked down at his feet.
“I had enough of this hell myself this evening. I got what I need and tomorrow I’ll get with Doctor Vecellio over some of that preliminary stuff. You can come along if you like. But, I think I hear the police chief coming up and all’s we need is another asshole in this stew. Besides, we did all we are going to do here. Let’s go have that fucking drink, Joe.”
The two walked out before the flashing red and blue lights and the shadows dancing in the reflections off the walls of the houses as the entire neighborhood is cluttering the street after allowing the two undercover cars leaving into the chilling night air.
Tomorrow is another day of a media blitz as the horrors come to light right under the very noses of the folks of Deadwood.
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