Masked Murder
Part One: The Tape
Homicide was nothing new to Detective Mason Dark. His job was never slow, never ceasing, always picking up the shards of chaos so that he may piece together the mad chronicle of what ill fate has fallen so many. The motive was always the most curious part, yet it could also be the most sickening. Seeing a dead body, touching the lifeless shell of a once living being, that Mason has adjusted to, best he can anyway. However, the hardest to stomach, to learn, to accept, is the reason behind such events. Why would anyone stab their spouse? You would be surprised, and horrified, but it evolves into something worse, something evil when the number is beyond a single digit of wounds, or that the body was sodomized and stabbed even after the victim was dead. No amount of remorse or tears could make Mason falter or feel for a suspect when they said the inevitable words “I’m sorry” or “I didn’t mean to do it.”
Though he is accustomed to the ways of people and their deeds, there is always the most sinister and fiendish type of murder waiting in the shadows, hiding until that deep, dark secret is revealed. It is during these moments that Mason wished he had a way to bury it, put it back in the recesses so that none may see it, for even doing so eats away at you, hollows you, corrupts your everyday routine so that you can no longer trust what you thought was safe or who you could trust. And then, when one of those horrors is released, the worst part begins. Trying to figure out what would drive someone to do such a thing, commit such a crime that it exceeds even the meaning of the word and takes on a more heinous of nature. Mason recognizes it as evil incarnate, no reason can help understand a sight most dreadful as those wrought by the hands of a lunatic or sociopath. Only the source knows the true reason, the person creating the nightmares of others. And on this day, Mason’s understanding of the “evil” was altered and reshaped, pulling him into a realm of madness he thought he had grown immune.
A massive fire had broken out in the basement of a high rise building, burning the lower levels so fiercely that the structure was beginning to fall apart. The sudden and horrid inferno welled up and incinerated many of the lower levels in a flash, killing many of the staff and residents. Due to the exit design, many suffered burns and inhalation wounds due to the stairwells being compromised, a design flaw that would end up in a losing lawsuit for the owners of the building. The official death toll was fifteen with thirty injured, these numbers including pets and children. It was a mess and typically Arsons department for involvement but they were understaffed and needed the help. The urgency was also due to the structural issues concerning the building, meaning they had to move fast but careful, the detectives favorite type of work pace. During the investigation, mere hours into the meandering through the water and fire damaged property, Mason was called to the lowest depths, the most damaged portion of the area. There, at the center of all the damage, the hottest and most intense point, lay a black box. It was some sort of safe specifically designed for fire resistance and high heat, precariously placed at the source of ignition. One of the members working had brushed the top of the heavy object off to try and identify it. This prompted the sudden call for Mason whose name was imprinted into the top of the box. The room, though being the hottest before, was now the coldest of any place within, a silence gripping the air as the others watched Mason as he decided what to do. “Check it for explosives,” He said after a long bit of pacing and mental proposing. “Then, bag it and sent it to evidence.” He uttered nothing more. He grasped his shirt pocket for a cigarette and made his way outside, striking it up and taking a long drag. The inhale burned as fiercely as the questions on his mind. He did not return to help the others.
“It’s clear, sir,” They said back in the confines of the evidence room, handing over the now opened box. Mason sat the box on the table and studied it for a few minutes, his eyes searching for any discerning marks or hints. “We couldn’t find anything else on the box that seemed unusual or strange. It all looks standard save for the custom moniker on the top.” Mason nodded then opened the small door to the box. Inside, wrapped in high temperature insulation and sealed in a bag was a VHS tape. There was nothing written on it and it seemed to be completely spooled to the beginning, ready to be viewed. “Bring in the TV and VHS player,” Mason said, rolling up his sleeves and taking a deep gulp of mostly cold coffee. “Oh, and more coffee.” A short time later, the requested items arrived, the devices being wheeled in on a cart, stacked one atop the other. It reminded Mason of AV Club when he was younger, allowing the humor of age to visit him briefly before setting his mind on unraveling this mystery. Sipping a cup of fresh black gold, the detective popped in the VHS and pressed PLAY.
Part One: The Tape
Homicide was nothing new to Detective Mason Dark. His job was never slow, never ceasing, always picking up the shards of chaos so that he may piece together the mad chronicle of what ill fate has fallen so many. The motive was always the most curious part, yet it could also be the most sickening. Seeing a dead body, touching the lifeless shell of a once living being, that Mason has adjusted to, best he can anyway. However, the hardest to stomach, to learn, to accept, is the reason behind such events. Why would anyone stab their spouse? You would be surprised, and horrified, but it evolves into something worse, something evil when the number is beyond a single digit of wounds, or that the body was sodomized and stabbed even after the victim was dead. No amount of remorse or tears could make Mason falter or feel for a suspect when they said the inevitable words “I’m sorry” or “I didn’t mean to do it.”
Though he is accustomed to the ways of people and their deeds, there is always the most sinister and fiendish type of murder waiting in the shadows, hiding until that deep, dark secret is revealed. It is during these moments that Mason wished he had a way to bury it, put it back in the recesses so that none may see it, for even doing so eats away at you, hollows you, corrupts your everyday routine so that you can no longer trust what you thought was safe or who you could trust. And then, when one of those horrors is released, the worst part begins. Trying to figure out what would drive someone to do such a thing, commit such a crime that it exceeds even the meaning of the word and takes on a more heinous of nature. Mason recognizes it as evil incarnate, no reason can help understand a sight most dreadful as those wrought by the hands of a lunatic or sociopath. Only the source knows the true reason, the person creating the nightmares of others. And on this day, Mason’s understanding of the “evil” was altered and reshaped, pulling him into a realm of madness he thought he had grown immune.
A massive fire had broken out in the basement of a high rise building, burning the lower levels so fiercely that the structure was beginning to fall apart. The sudden and horrid inferno welled up and incinerated many of the lower levels in a flash, killing many of the staff and residents. Due to the exit design, many suffered burns and inhalation wounds due to the stairwells being compromised, a design flaw that would end up in a losing lawsuit for the owners of the building. The official death toll was fifteen with thirty injured, these numbers including pets and children. It was a mess and typically Arsons department for involvement but they were understaffed and needed the help. The urgency was also due to the structural issues concerning the building, meaning they had to move fast but careful, the detectives favorite type of work pace. During the investigation, mere hours into the meandering through the water and fire damaged property, Mason was called to the lowest depths, the most damaged portion of the area. There, at the center of all the damage, the hottest and most intense point, lay a black box. It was some sort of safe specifically designed for fire resistance and high heat, precariously placed at the source of ignition. One of the members working had brushed the top of the heavy object off to try and identify it. This prompted the sudden call for Mason whose name was imprinted into the top of the box. The room, though being the hottest before, was now the coldest of any place within, a silence gripping the air as the others watched Mason as he decided what to do. “Check it for explosives,” He said after a long bit of pacing and mental proposing. “Then, bag it and sent it to evidence.” He uttered nothing more. He grasped his shirt pocket for a cigarette and made his way outside, striking it up and taking a long drag. The inhale burned as fiercely as the questions on his mind. He did not return to help the others.
“It’s clear, sir,” They said back in the confines of the evidence room, handing over the now opened box. Mason sat the box on the table and studied it for a few minutes, his eyes searching for any discerning marks or hints. “We couldn’t find anything else on the box that seemed unusual or strange. It all looks standard save for the custom moniker on the top.” Mason nodded then opened the small door to the box. Inside, wrapped in high temperature insulation and sealed in a bag was a VHS tape. There was nothing written on it and it seemed to be completely spooled to the beginning, ready to be viewed. “Bring in the TV and VHS player,” Mason said, rolling up his sleeves and taking a deep gulp of mostly cold coffee. “Oh, and more coffee.” A short time later, the requested items arrived, the devices being wheeled in on a cart, stacked one atop the other. It reminded Mason of AV Club when he was younger, allowing the humor of age to visit him briefly before setting his mind on unraveling this mystery. Sipping a cup of fresh black gold, the detective popped in the VHS and pressed PLAY.