Post by Bene Elohim on Feb 8, 2024 14:20:08 GMT -8
Nikos Alexandros has been a member of the Chicago Police Department as long as the man could remember. He had entered the academy at eighteen and finished near the top of his class. He rose through the ranks of the force, earning a detective's shield when he was twenty-five, and finally ended up in homicide.
He was a thick-bodied man with dirty blonde hair and hard features. His obviously Greek heritage gave the lines of his jaw and his chin sharp angular features that gave him a predatory look.
He was sitting in the squad’s break room enjoying, surprise, surprise, a donut when he was joined by a second man. He was around the same age and of Japanese descent with jet black hair, wearing a loose-fitting suit opened at the front.
Japanese man: “Neek. We got someone waiting in Interrogation 1.”
Nikos looked up from his reports and morning treat, meeting the man’s gaze. His own sparkling with confusion as he wiped the crumbs from his thick mustache and answered, still chewing.
Nikos Alexandros: “We don’t have anything scheduled this morning, Hido.”
Hido Nakamura motioned over his shoulder to the doorway he had just entered.
Hido Nakamura: “Johnson just told me there’s someone in there.”
Niko blew out a deep annoyed breath out through his nose and pushed the chair where he sat back. He rose to his feet with an annoyed sigh, ate the last bite of the pastry, and then turned to follow his partner.
As the pair walked down the hallway Hido spoke without ever looking back.
Hido Nakamura: “Captain said the guy walked in off the street and wanted to confess. Said he was part of that whole warehouse massacre that took place up north.”
Nikos Alexandros: “What a mess. What did Forensics come back with? Twenty different DNA profiles but none of them were clean enough for full testing? A dozen bodies and one left in cuffs wounded. Like he was gift wrapped.”
The two came to the room labeled “Interrogation 1” where a uniformed officer handed a folder to Nikos. Nikos glanced through the window at the figure sitting at the table before he opened the file. It was a white male with short cut hair and cleanly trimmed facial hair. He was muscular, athletic even, and in his mid-twenties.
Nikos finally glanced down at the folder, looking over the pages one after another and then looked back at the officer exasperated.
Nikos Alexandros: “What the fuck is this?”
Officer: “The results of his fingerprints.”
Nikos Alexandros: “Unknown. Fingerprints connected to the M. Rael capital murder case in North Carolina a few weeks ago, an armed robbery in Sacramento in 1983, a kidnapping in Spain in 1975. Another murder in New York in the eighties and a string of bank robberies in Texas.”
Officer: “Yes sir.”
Nikos reached out and snatched the officer by the head, yanking him to the window looking over the man.
Nikos Alexandros: “Does he look like someone who was committing bank robberies in the eighties or kidnappings in 75?! He wasn’t even ALIVE in the mid-eighties!”
Hido Nakamura: “AFIS obviously came back with errored results. Run them again.”
Officer: “Yes sir.”
The officer scurried away, leaving Nikos and Hido to share an irritated glance before Hido opened the door and the two men stepped into the room. It was only then the man’s head came up to reveal the face of Anthony Crawford. He sat at the table with his hands cuffed to the tabletop.
Hido Nakamura: “Morning.”
Nikos Alexandros: “I am Detective Alexandros and this is my partner, Detective Nakamura. I understand you turned yourself in, in connection to the situation at the North-Brook warehouse on September the 12th?”
Anthony Crawford: “That is correct.”
Hido Nakamura: “Let’s start with your name. Your fingerprints didn’t bring up any criminal record…what’s your name?”
Anthony Crawford: “Jason Meyers.”
Hido Nakamura: “Well, Mr. Meyers, what can you tell us?”
Anthony Crawford: “I don’t need to tell you much...”
The chains rattled as Anthony reached for a folder sitting on the table next to him and slid it across the table to the two men.
Anthony Crawford: “As the officer told you, I have already been read my Miranda Rights and have waived my right to an attorney. All you need is inside. My full written confession.”
Nikos lifted a brow and opened the folder finding the notarized letter inside.
Nikos Alexandros: “On the 12th of September, I, Jason Meyer, took part in an illegal underground fight being held at the North-Brook Warehouse by an unknown group of people. During the course of this event, using a firearm I managed to smuggle in, I took the lives of five people, three men and two women. I only wish to atone for the things I have done and pay my debt to society.”
Nikos pushed the folder away to the center of the table and folded his hands in front of him.
Nikos Alexandros: “Why did you bring the weapon to this fight? Was there someone there you wished to do harm?”
Anthony Crawford: “I won’t be answering any further questions. Everything you need is inside that letter.”
Hido Nakamura: “Who was holding this fight? Was it a man named Romian?”
Anthony Crawford: “I won’t be answering any further questions. Everything you need is inside that letter.”
Hido Nakamura: “Why shoot people who were simply watching?”
Anthony Crawford: “I won’t be answering any further questions. Everything you need is inside that letter.”
Both Hido and Nikos asked all the questions you would have imagined during interrogation. They found that every time they asked a question, they got the same stone-faced word for word answer. They both left frustrated, and when the door to the room slammed shut, Nikos waved an officer over.
A young, fresh-faced female officer stepped forward with a smile.
Nikos Alexandros: “See that Mr. Meyers is taken to county lockup for processing.”
Officer: “Yes sir.”
Hido Nakamura: “And make sure they retake his prints when he gets there.”
Officer: “Yes sir.”
An hour later, the man they called Jason Meyers was loaded into the van, fully restrained in ankle and wrist cuffs and chains. The whole ride to the processing center, he didn’t say a word. Sat perfectly still with his eyes staring into the blank space in front of his face.
The ride to the county took a little less than an hour. Once there, he was helped from the back of the van and passed into the custody of a middle-aged man with short red hair wearing a county jail uniform.
Once all the paperwork was filed and the exchange of prisoners was official, “Jason” was walked through the halls of the jail while the man was speaking to him, reading him the rules of the facility.
When they neared one of the corners, the man asked if “Jason” had heard him. However, when he didn’t get a reply, the guard turned and drove the point of his nightstick into Anthony’s stomach. Anthony hit a knee, panting as the guard stood over him.
Guard: “I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”
Voice: “MISTER JOHNSON!”
The guard turned and found himself staring at a man wearing a black and white suit. He was in his late forties with graying hair and a bushy mustache on his face. The guard turned to look at him and straightened up.
Officer Johnson: “Mr. Perkins. The prisoner won’t speak when spoken to, sir.”
Officer Perkins: “Well, we can’t have that.”
A second nightstick appeared and pressed under Anthony’s chin, forcing his head back to look at the ranking officer.
Officer Perkins: “You gonna speak when you are spoken to now, convict?”
Anthony Crawford: “...Yes, sir.”
Officer Perkins: “Good. Get him out of here.”
Officer Johnson yanked Anthony to his feet and shoved him forward. Anthony stumbled with the ankle shackles but managed to keep himself upright and continued on where directed.
The two continued through the halls of the facility until they finally passed through a door leading not into the general population units, but instead to a long two of thick doored cells. The solitary unit of the jail.
Once they passed the door and it locked behind them Johnson looked up at the camera to make sure the red light was off. He then proceeded to remove the prisoner’s handcuffs, chains, and shackles.
Officer Johnson: “I’m sorry for the use of force, Lord Sathanas.”
Anthony Crawford: “Where is he?”
Officer Johnson: “Follow me Sir.”
The officer led the now unshackled Sathanas through the hallways of the solitary unit to one of the cells on the right hand side of the hallway. A key turned in the lock of the cell and the door swung open.
Inside was a man lying on a small mattress bolted into the wall. He rolled over slowly, shielding his eyes from the intense light into his once pitch-black cell.
Man: “Why the fuck am I within solitary?! Where is my god damn attorney?! You fucking pigs haven’t fed me in two days!”
Anthony Crawford: “...Romian...”
There was something different in Anthony’s voice now. It was deep and snarling. Like a beast or the demons of legend. It was murder.
Romian: “Who’s there?! I know that voice...”
Anthony Crawford: “...You hurt her…”
Romian: “Hurt who?! Who the fuck are you?!”
Anthony Crawford: “Death. I am Death.”
Anthony stepped into the cell, and with a pull of his arm, the door suddenly slammed shut. From inside came the sound of running feet and the sound of something hard hitting flesh. The wet sound of bone hitting bloody skin.
Officer Johnson stood outside the cell door with his arms crossed over his chest and listened to what was happening to the prisoner inside the locked solitary unit. The man who hurt Melissa Reed was now trapped, alone in the cell with Sathanas.
He screamed for help, but no help came.
This was personal for Anthony. He had loved Melissa with everything he had.
And this man would feel that.
He would feel all of it.
He was a thick-bodied man with dirty blonde hair and hard features. His obviously Greek heritage gave the lines of his jaw and his chin sharp angular features that gave him a predatory look.
He was sitting in the squad’s break room enjoying, surprise, surprise, a donut when he was joined by a second man. He was around the same age and of Japanese descent with jet black hair, wearing a loose-fitting suit opened at the front.
Japanese man: “Neek. We got someone waiting in Interrogation 1.”
Nikos looked up from his reports and morning treat, meeting the man’s gaze. His own sparkling with confusion as he wiped the crumbs from his thick mustache and answered, still chewing.
Nikos Alexandros: “We don’t have anything scheduled this morning, Hido.”
Hido Nakamura motioned over his shoulder to the doorway he had just entered.
Hido Nakamura: “Johnson just told me there’s someone in there.”
Niko blew out a deep annoyed breath out through his nose and pushed the chair where he sat back. He rose to his feet with an annoyed sigh, ate the last bite of the pastry, and then turned to follow his partner.
As the pair walked down the hallway Hido spoke without ever looking back.
Hido Nakamura: “Captain said the guy walked in off the street and wanted to confess. Said he was part of that whole warehouse massacre that took place up north.”
Nikos Alexandros: “What a mess. What did Forensics come back with? Twenty different DNA profiles but none of them were clean enough for full testing? A dozen bodies and one left in cuffs wounded. Like he was gift wrapped.”
The two came to the room labeled “Interrogation 1” where a uniformed officer handed a folder to Nikos. Nikos glanced through the window at the figure sitting at the table before he opened the file. It was a white male with short cut hair and cleanly trimmed facial hair. He was muscular, athletic even, and in his mid-twenties.
Nikos finally glanced down at the folder, looking over the pages one after another and then looked back at the officer exasperated.
Nikos Alexandros: “What the fuck is this?”
Officer: “The results of his fingerprints.”
Nikos Alexandros: “Unknown. Fingerprints connected to the M. Rael capital murder case in North Carolina a few weeks ago, an armed robbery in Sacramento in 1983, a kidnapping in Spain in 1975. Another murder in New York in the eighties and a string of bank robberies in Texas.”
Officer: “Yes sir.”
Nikos reached out and snatched the officer by the head, yanking him to the window looking over the man.
Nikos Alexandros: “Does he look like someone who was committing bank robberies in the eighties or kidnappings in 75?! He wasn’t even ALIVE in the mid-eighties!”
Hido Nakamura: “AFIS obviously came back with errored results. Run them again.”
Officer: “Yes sir.”
The officer scurried away, leaving Nikos and Hido to share an irritated glance before Hido opened the door and the two men stepped into the room. It was only then the man’s head came up to reveal the face of Anthony Crawford. He sat at the table with his hands cuffed to the tabletop.
Hido Nakamura: “Morning.”
Nikos Alexandros: “I am Detective Alexandros and this is my partner, Detective Nakamura. I understand you turned yourself in, in connection to the situation at the North-Brook warehouse on September the 12th?”
Anthony Crawford: “That is correct.”
Hido Nakamura: “Let’s start with your name. Your fingerprints didn’t bring up any criminal record…what’s your name?”
Anthony Crawford: “Jason Meyers.”
Hido Nakamura: “Well, Mr. Meyers, what can you tell us?”
Anthony Crawford: “I don’t need to tell you much...”
The chains rattled as Anthony reached for a folder sitting on the table next to him and slid it across the table to the two men.
Anthony Crawford: “As the officer told you, I have already been read my Miranda Rights and have waived my right to an attorney. All you need is inside. My full written confession.”
Nikos lifted a brow and opened the folder finding the notarized letter inside.
Nikos Alexandros: “On the 12th of September, I, Jason Meyer, took part in an illegal underground fight being held at the North-Brook Warehouse by an unknown group of people. During the course of this event, using a firearm I managed to smuggle in, I took the lives of five people, three men and two women. I only wish to atone for the things I have done and pay my debt to society.”
Nikos pushed the folder away to the center of the table and folded his hands in front of him.
Nikos Alexandros: “Why did you bring the weapon to this fight? Was there someone there you wished to do harm?”
Anthony Crawford: “I won’t be answering any further questions. Everything you need is inside that letter.”
Hido Nakamura: “Who was holding this fight? Was it a man named Romian?”
Anthony Crawford: “I won’t be answering any further questions. Everything you need is inside that letter.”
Hido Nakamura: “Why shoot people who were simply watching?”
Anthony Crawford: “I won’t be answering any further questions. Everything you need is inside that letter.”
Both Hido and Nikos asked all the questions you would have imagined during interrogation. They found that every time they asked a question, they got the same stone-faced word for word answer. They both left frustrated, and when the door to the room slammed shut, Nikos waved an officer over.
A young, fresh-faced female officer stepped forward with a smile.
Nikos Alexandros: “See that Mr. Meyers is taken to county lockup for processing.”
Officer: “Yes sir.”
Hido Nakamura: “And make sure they retake his prints when he gets there.”
Officer: “Yes sir.”
An hour later, the man they called Jason Meyers was loaded into the van, fully restrained in ankle and wrist cuffs and chains. The whole ride to the processing center, he didn’t say a word. Sat perfectly still with his eyes staring into the blank space in front of his face.
The ride to the county took a little less than an hour. Once there, he was helped from the back of the van and passed into the custody of a middle-aged man with short red hair wearing a county jail uniform.
Once all the paperwork was filed and the exchange of prisoners was official, “Jason” was walked through the halls of the jail while the man was speaking to him, reading him the rules of the facility.
When they neared one of the corners, the man asked if “Jason” had heard him. However, when he didn’t get a reply, the guard turned and drove the point of his nightstick into Anthony’s stomach. Anthony hit a knee, panting as the guard stood over him.
Guard: “I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”
Voice: “MISTER JOHNSON!”
The guard turned and found himself staring at a man wearing a black and white suit. He was in his late forties with graying hair and a bushy mustache on his face. The guard turned to look at him and straightened up.
Officer Johnson: “Mr. Perkins. The prisoner won’t speak when spoken to, sir.”
Officer Perkins: “Well, we can’t have that.”
A second nightstick appeared and pressed under Anthony’s chin, forcing his head back to look at the ranking officer.
Officer Perkins: “You gonna speak when you are spoken to now, convict?”
Anthony Crawford: “...Yes, sir.”
Officer Perkins: “Good. Get him out of here.”
Officer Johnson yanked Anthony to his feet and shoved him forward. Anthony stumbled with the ankle shackles but managed to keep himself upright and continued on where directed.
The two continued through the halls of the facility until they finally passed through a door leading not into the general population units, but instead to a long two of thick doored cells. The solitary unit of the jail.
Once they passed the door and it locked behind them Johnson looked up at the camera to make sure the red light was off. He then proceeded to remove the prisoner’s handcuffs, chains, and shackles.
Officer Johnson: “I’m sorry for the use of force, Lord Sathanas.”
Anthony Crawford: “Where is he?”
Officer Johnson: “Follow me Sir.”
The officer led the now unshackled Sathanas through the hallways of the solitary unit to one of the cells on the right hand side of the hallway. A key turned in the lock of the cell and the door swung open.
Inside was a man lying on a small mattress bolted into the wall. He rolled over slowly, shielding his eyes from the intense light into his once pitch-black cell.
Man: “Why the fuck am I within solitary?! Where is my god damn attorney?! You fucking pigs haven’t fed me in two days!”
Anthony Crawford: “...Romian...”
There was something different in Anthony’s voice now. It was deep and snarling. Like a beast or the demons of legend. It was murder.
Romian: “Who’s there?! I know that voice...”
Anthony Crawford: “...You hurt her…”
Romian: “Hurt who?! Who the fuck are you?!”
Anthony Crawford: “Death. I am Death.”
Anthony stepped into the cell, and with a pull of his arm, the door suddenly slammed shut. From inside came the sound of running feet and the sound of something hard hitting flesh. The wet sound of bone hitting bloody skin.
Officer Johnson stood outside the cell door with his arms crossed over his chest and listened to what was happening to the prisoner inside the locked solitary unit. The man who hurt Melissa Reed was now trapped, alone in the cell with Sathanas.
He screamed for help, but no help came.
This was personal for Anthony. He had loved Melissa with everything he had.
And this man would feel that.
He would feel all of it.
