Author's Statement
This book is a work of fiction. Though, the subject matter could trigger someone with PTSD. Please, be warned. If you have issues with sexual abuse and/or violence. This book is not for you.
However if you enjoy reading about sex offenders being brutally tortured and killed. You have come to the right place.
I am not now nor have I ever been a member of law enforcement.
While the places named in the story are real. I do not personally know anything about them.
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This symbol means that a place is not real. Some places require a level of trust. In order to maintain their business.
None of the characters are named for or based off of real people. So any similarities are purely coincidental.
Thank you and I hope you enjoy the story.
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June 5, 2002
The child's screams filled the other wise silent room. Begging the man to stop "It hurts." the small voice said. This had been happening for two weeks now. The man was an employee of the child's parents.
He had been watching the child for well over a year before deciding to just take the little one. In his mind the child wanted this. Had actually asked him for this.
He found the perfect hiding place for them. A small abandoned building in the oldest part of town. It had turned out to be such a good hiding spot that after more than a week they still hadn't been found.
He finished as the child strapped to his bed passed out. Most likely from the pain. He stood from the bed pulling his pants up. Lowering his knife as he zipped them. As he looked over his work he smiled. It was beautiful.
Suddenly a noise outside caught his attention. He hated the idea of having to cover his work. Preferring to watch the blood air dry. However the noise was getting louder. Huffing like a frustrated child. He threw a blanket over the little boy. Then walked toward the only window in the room.
As soon as he saw the lights flashing through the window he crouched down. Now out of sight he looked back to the bed. He really wanted to take his prize with him. However, the need to escape was more pressing. He would just have to find another plaything later anyway.
The man grabbed his jacket. Making his way to the trap door that led to the tunnels. He snuck away as the police were surrounding the building.
