Outside Karen Hesson's flat, the East London Metropolitan Police has cordoned off all access in and out of the building. Corbin Graystone and Lieutenant Rezo Faisal follow behind another uniformed man, who leads them through the door into the flat. The overpowering stench of blood and semen was immediate, mixed in with a gamey odor, just as it had been at Lilia's crime scene. The two instinctively cover their noses as they are approached by Neville Lyles, whose forensics team had arrived at few hours prior to collect samples.
"I've got blood, lots of it. And semen possibly left behind by the perpetrator. My team will analyze the samples and see if there are any matches from the warehouse crime scene."
"Yes, please do. And the body?"
"This way."
Lyles leads them to a white sheet covering something on the kitchen floor. Around it are shards of glass laying in dark red splotches of dried blood. Lyles lifts the sheets to reveal the corpse of the poor blonde.
"Karen Hesson. Age 25. BBC Channel 4 news anchor."
Corbin, upon laying his eyes on the gruesome scene, has an immediate flashback as he sees Lilia laying on the bloodstained porcelain tiles, her breasts ripped clean off, nether regions torn asunder, and the exact same pentagram carved into her belly.
"This looks like..." Faisal frowns while covering his nose, but then stops himself and takes a quick side-eye glance at Corbin.
"No, you're right, sir. Whoever did this must be the one who killed Lilia."
Corbin notices the Lieutenant's hesitation and interjects. Lyles looks from one man to the other before slowly covering up the cadaver again.
"We'll know whether or not that's the case once my team runs the DNA analysis on this semen sample and see if it matches the one found at the warehouse."
As the two men step back out into the cold January air, they are immediately approached by another officer.
"Lieutenant Faisal, we are receiving report of another homicide: This one at the Grand Majesty’s Hotel. One of the housekeepers found the body early this morning."
"Another one? And the Grand Majesty, of all places? Right then... somebody go tell Lyles, have him leave two guys here and bring the rest of his team to the Hotel."
Faisal momentarily removes his black peaked cap and runs his hand through his wavy black hair down to his stubbled face. He lets out a melancholic sigh and walks over to his patrol car.
"Come on, Graystone. We're heading over now."
Upon entrance into the luxury suite, the odor was equally fierce. But this time the stench of blood and semen is mixed with the faux extravagant scent of fancy leather upholstery, and... is that the smell of burnt flesh?
"Connie Sinclair. Age 25. BBC Channel 4 news anchor."
"God damn it..."
Faisal covers his nose as he lays his eyes upon the mostly nude blonde victim sprawled over the satin sheets, her legs propped open in a spread-eagle position and covered with dried body fluid. Her lifeless green eyes wide open, staring off to one side as the hair curler smolders in her mouth. Right below her two perfect mounds of milky tits, a pentagram carved into her flesh.
"Judging by the texture of the blood, I'd say this happened at around the same time as the other one."
Faisal slips on a latex glove and carefully runs one finger across a dried splatter on the floor, glancing up at Corbin while handing him a glove.
"What do you think, lad?"
"Looks like the work of a different attacker."
Corbin corroborates with a slight nod while gazing at the corpse tragically.
"There aren't any noticeable lacerations on her body like the other one... or Lilia's. Looks like she was killed by that thing in her mouth."
"Yes... what the hell is that, Lyles? Can we take it out?"
Faisal turns to the forensic specialist who has just entered behind them. Lyles and his team quickly set off to their work.
"We've got a suspect for this one, sir." One of the junior officers reports.
"We've been told that this victim was in the company of a man named Hugh Hoskins last night."
"Hugh Hoskins... isn't he that pharmaceutical entrepreneur? Makes a bunch of fancy new pills?"
"The very same, sir."
"Right then, let's bring Doctor Hoskins down to the station for a chat. Either he had it out for Miss Sinclaire here personally, or somebody really has it out for BBC News 4."
Kazelle sits in music instrument shop, reclining in a chair with her legs propped up on the counter, casually jamming away on her Hades Harp on this frisky, easygoing January day. The bell hanging above the entrance dings as the door opens, signaling the arrival of a potential customer.
"Welcome to Hard Rock Hav..."
She looks over at the entrance without getting up, and stops mid-greeting as she sees the elderly nun approach the counter.
"I don't suppose you're here to buy a vinyl record, Mother Rahab?"
"Don't get cheeky with me, Gothic Ghoul. You know exactly why I'm here. And it looks like you're a bit too comfortable here."
The two exchange a knowing smirk before the nun pulls out that black folder.
"Two female victims in one night, which appears to be the work of two separate Rippers. I've got intel on one of them."
Kazelle flips open the folder and immediately sees the photos of two nude blonde women, sprawled over the scene of their demise.
"Oh god..."
"Yes. Terrible, right? It's your job to make sure this doesn't happen to anyone else."
Kazelle flips a page and sees a photo of Hoskins, followed by his profile:
Hugh Hoskins, aka “Doctor Hot Skin”, a celebrity pharmacist who specializes in the manufacturing of beautifying drugs to gain a following of female clients. He also secretly manufactures his own date-rape aphrodisiacs to induce female clients into intercourse before killing them.
Kazelle flips to the next page and looks up at Rahab inquisitively.
"You said there were two Rippers involved. Where is the file for the other one?"
"I still haven't collected enough intel to know who the other one is. Go ahead and handle this one first."
"You know, I've been meaning to ask: How do you get all this information on the Rippers?"
"From Jericho’s Intelligence Agent."
Mother Rahab replies plainly, but says nothing more before briskly walking out the door.
Over at the East London Metropolitan Police station, Faisal and Corbin appear to have hit a dead end.
Upon questioning Hugh Hoskins, they learned that he had brought Connie Sinclaire up to his luxury suite when she told him she needed to lie down. He did so, but never entered the room himself, and surely was not present when Connie was assaulted and brutally murdered.
His claims alone, of course, was not enough to exonerate him, if not given for the fact that these claims were supported by other guests who attended the gathering, including Doctor Klause Von Kriegen and Mister Savo Paparago, both of whom affirm that Hoskins did indeed return to the ballroom shortly after bringing Miss Sinclaire up to the suite, and remained there until the midnight countdown.
The footage obtained from the Hotel security camera seems to confirm these assertions: Hoskins had held the suite door open for Connie, closed it behind her, and simply walked away off camera. At no point did he return to the door.
"Which begs the question..." Faisal strokes the small patch of hair on his chin and points across the table at Corbin.
"If he was the one who brought her there, why didn't he check up on her after the dinner party?"
"The statements here from the hotel staff seems to indicate that he checked in with a front desk clerk, and asked the Hotel to take care of Miss Sinclaire for the evening. Supposedly that meant he wanted to let her rest throughout the night undisturbed."
"Ah, yes. What a noble gesture..." Faisal quips sarcastically, the displeasure of not being able to find anything incriminating wearing plainly on his weary face.
"Did you get the name of the desk clerk he spoke with?"
"There were several, but the staff member Hoskins spoke directly to at the time was this one... Melvin Tilton?"
"Have we questioned him?"
"We're still trying to find out where he lives. And also, there is this..."
Corbin flips open another folder and pulls out a few sheets of freshly printed documents.
"This just came in from the forensics lab: The semen sample from Karen Hesson's crime scene matches the one from Lilia's, but not Connie Sinclaire's. Also, they ran a DNA test on Hoskins, which shows a mismatch on the Sinclaire crime scene."
"Right then, so... we know the warehouse case and the Karen Hesson homicide is committed by the same perpetrator, but we don't have a suspect. And Hoskins wasn't the one who spilled his seed all over that poor woman in the Hotel... got it. And then there's this thing..."
Faisal uses a pen to tap on a photo of the pentagram carved into the two victims' flesh, before putting his face in his palm and rubbing his eyes for a bit, and then finally looking back up at Corbin.
"Right then, let's call it a night and look into this thing tomorrow. Why don't you go pick up your boy? You left him with a nanny tonight, right?"
"Yeah... right, right. I'll do that..."
Corbin rises to his feet, a fatigued look on his face as well. He straightens himself and salutes the Lieutenant.
"Well then, I'll see you tomorrow, sir."
Somewhere in an exotic-looking hotel suite, with a neon-lit jacuzzi at the center of the enormous room and a king-sized bed overlooking a magnificent view of the London night skyline, a woman with long natural blonde hair stands knee deep in the water, her upper body propped against the edge of the tub facing the bed as she gets plowed from behind by the handsome and fully nude Hugh Hoskins standing in the pool. The bottom half of her hot pink string bikini already stripped off as it floats in the heated pool, the top half barely clinging to her breasts as it slips further and further down her shoulders with each powerful thrust and each bounce of her succulent flesh mound.
"Ah~~♥ Ah~~♥ Ah~~♥"
The sensual moans of the bikini-clad blonde harmonize with the sound of Hoskins' massive cock slurping in and out of her soaking pussy as his pelvis slaps powerfully against her jiggling hips. She holds between her red-manicured fingers a glass of nearly-empty Cosmopolitan cocktail, her glazed green eyes glimmering mischieviously at the bed, admiring the view of another woman with flowing blonde hair, fully nude and mounted cow-girl style atop the shaft of a faceless man with a bulging, chiseled frame, bouncing up and down with passionate moans, pushing both hands up through her wild, disheveled hair. Around one of her wrist is a glistening diamond-studded bracelet, supposed a gift sufficient to entice her into such promiscuity. She glances over at the jacuzzi with her glazed blue eyes, sharing a giggle as the two blondes' gazes meet.
"I... ah♥... told you...ah♥... coming with me was... ah♥... a good idea, Karen... ah♥"
"This is... ha♥... the best, Connie.... ha♥ I'm so happy I... ha♥ ...listened to you."
The two sex-crazed beauties exchange pleasured grins as they pant and moan with each drive and deep vaginal penetration from their respective male partners. Connie gazes on enviously as her best friend continues to ride the impressively thick and long meat rod of her mystery partner that seems to stretch Karen's tight little pussy to its limits, her sexual inexperience causing her to wince with both pleasure and pain as her mouth drops wide open, gasping for air as she moans.
"Com'on now, you peng little slag. Less talking, more fucking."
From behind, Hoskin grabs a handful of Connie's hair and yanks her head back until she's staring up at the ceiling, pushing his enormous cock even deeper into her dripping wet box. Connie lets out a sensual and excited yelp as the warm veinous shaft drives deeply in, no less impressive than that of Karen's partner. Hoskins leans forward and brings his face to meet hers from above, bringing his head down, he starts making out with her, their tongues whipping and slurping in each other's mouth as he continues to ram her doggy-style. Observing this development, Karen pushes her hair behind her head and leans forward without losing momentum in her thrill ride, and begins making out with the faceless lover, all the time her hips still bouncing up and down vigorously and slapping against his chiseled pelvis.
"Hey, I saw mine checking out your knob. I think she wants to go for a ride."
As Hoskins breaks away from the make-out session, he looks up at the man lying on his back, who has also broken away from his own make-out session and gestures for the jacuzzi pair to head over.
"Right then, plenty of room on the bed. Lemme have a taste of her dripping cunt and you can have a taste of this one's."
Connie and Hoskins crawl out of the tub and climb onto the bed, delightfully switching partners as the two blonde gets on all fours facing each other, the two men drilling them from behind doggy-style. The two blonde sex nymphs exchange a flirtatious giggle and before they knew it, they were making out with each other while still getting plowed from behind.
"Aw fuck yea, that's hot!"
Watching the two women get it on apparently turn on the men even more as they intensify the power and speed of their thrusts, fucking the two blondes out of their minds.
Suddenly, without warning, the lights cut out, followed by pitch black and absolute silence.
When the lights return to the room, Connie lets out a horrendous scream at the sight in front of her: Karen, her eyes lifelessly rolled back, has a gash across her throat and blood pouring out of the wound and her mouth, her whole body covered in bloody cuts and glass shards. The face of the man plowing her friend from behind is no longer that of the dashing Doctor Hugh Hoskins, but that of a hideous stranger with bulging eyes and a twisted smirk lined by a row of gnarly teeth. The most unsettling part, however, is the fact that everyone and everything seem to be frozen in place except for her.
"Wh... what's going on...?"
Connie glances about with bewildered eyes, feeling the enormous shaft of her exchanged lover motionless inside of her.
"Oh, blast it. I've run out of cuts."
A voice squeaks from the far corner of the room. Connie glances over to see a young man, probably no older than twenty, with curly ash-blonde mop top hair emerging from the shadows, a black camcorder in his hand.
"This is as far as I got for the final cut. How do you like it so far, Miss Sinclaire?"
Connie stares at him in gobsmacked silence, her wide green eyes full of questions. The young cameraman chuckles.
"Oh, Miss Sinclaire. You haven't realized yet, have you...? You no longer exist in the realm of physical reality. The current you is merely an entity of light and sound in my digital world. And everything you've experienced up til now is but the mastery of my camerawork and film editing skills. See?"
The mysterious young man presses a few buttons on his camcorder. Suddenly Connie watches in shock as multicolored vertical static lines start to fill the room, fading to black until everything vanish and gradually replaced by an entirely new scene: The bloodied Karen has vanished with the old scene, the aforementioned hideous stranger remains, along with a hulking figure covered in fur on his arms, feet, and chest, the face like a grotesque hybrid of man and wolf. The two horrid figures baring down on her from both sides. Their leering eyes, drooling grin, and pulsing erections clearly telegraphing their sinister intent toward the terrified Connie.
"No! No! Get away from me!"
Covering her chest with her arms and squeezing her thighs tightly together, the distraught Connie scoots herself backward on the satin sheets until her back is against the headboard cushion.
"Would you like me to make them stop?"
"Yes! Yes! Please! Make it stop!"
"I can save you, if you do what I say."
"Anything! Please! Don't let them touch me!"
The young cameraman chuckles with satisfaction and touches a button on his camcorder, freezing the two monstrous threats in their track. He reaches down and begins to fumble with his belt buckle.
"Then... um... you know... I was hoping you could..."
He stammers with a hint of embarassment as his trousers drop to the floor. Connie glances over with a look of distaste at his mild-sized erection, almost as puny as his scrawny frame.
"You're soliciting me for sex."
"If you'd be so kind."
"Wh... what do you want me to do with it...?"
Connie leans forward and cautiously reaches out to touch the pecker that pales in comparison to Hoskins' drug-enhanced meat rod.
"Well... er, a bit more than just... you know... touching it, I would hope."
Connie looks up at the flustered expression of this lad and can instantly tell he's probably never been with a woman. His lack of size and inexperience, compounded by the surrounding circumstances, makes her really want to tell him to go fuck himself. But she is aware of the consequences as she takes a wary glance back at the two frozen figures.
"Oh, I see... you would prefer to shack it up with these two. Right then..."
The young man reaches for a button on the camcorder, to which Connie hurriedly leans forward and interjects.
"No! No! Please! I'll... I'll do it! I'll do whatever you want me to do!"
The next moment, Connie is riding on top of the young cameraman cowgirl-style, hardly stimulated by his feeble penetration while he grunts pleasurefully. Barely five minutes must have gone by before his pecker stiffens and pulses, blowing its micro-load inside of her without warning. He lets out a elongated squeal like a wild boar before going limp on the bed, gasping for air.
Right then, that was fast.
"So... did you like that...?"
Connie eyes him cautiously as she slowly dismounts his already flaccid penis, still oozing with cum running down to his pelvis.
"Oh... oh yeah...! You were an absolute ace, Miss Sinclaire...!"
"So... does that mean I can...?"
"Right then..."
The young man sits up from his sprawled position and hops off the bed, buckling his trousers and glancing back at Connie's hopeful gaze with a sneer. He holds up the camcorder and reaches for the "Play" button.
"I know you didn't enjoy having sex with me, Miss Sinclaire. Maybe you'd rather play with these two after all."
"No! No! Ple...!"
Before Connie can finish her pleading cry, the two beastly figures have seized her, one from behind and the other from the front, simultanousely shoving their enormous shafts into her pussy and mouth. Propped up on the bed on all fours, the helpless blonde lets out one muffled scream after another as the duo spitroast her mercilessly. She gazes as her deceiver slowly walk away, taking with him any possibility of her release. Her green eyes well up with tearful regret and despair at having allowed this slimy little creep to take advantage of her, all the while the scrawny cameraman wielding this mysterious power chuckles and vanishes into the shadowy corner...
