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Description
For the past ten years the police had been investigating several deaths of young women around the Los Angeles area. There didn't seem to be any link between the women at first but after a lab technician put the crime scene photos together he noticed all but the first few girls had a similar marking in the same place on their face. A crescent shaped impression on their foreheads was barely noticeable on the bodies after they made it to the morgue but it was clear on the photos taken at the scene. This was the first break they had in the cases since the investigations began. In the end it was the break that would lead them to the killer. Joe employed many methods of ending lives specifically chosen for each of the twelve girls he'd touched with death so far. His wife didn't count because though she was marked with his perfect crescent she was killed before her time in a moment that was out of his control. She was his one regret over the years and he often had nightmares about her lying in wait for him behind some wall or under some bed and when he least expected it she'd make herself known by exploring her vengeful side on his most tender of spots. The vodka helped shake the nightmares about Vanessa and the television help shake his reality until it was fully shattered leaving a puzzle with millions of tiny crystal pieces. Nothing more than static was ever on the screen, but Joe got what he needed from the coded snow. The addresses and times of where he needed to be, the names and pictures of the people he had to kill, and the reassurance that he was doing what had to be done for the better of his and everyones' world. The television helped Joe become the hero he set out to be when he joined the police force. The television was marked with his perfect crescent so bright and beautiful it pulsated and calmed him.

He was just about to fall asleep when he was startled by a painful face that replaced the crescent in the center of the television. He recognized the face and the tangled hair that framed it. He would never forget the last face he saw before he found his crescent. Shirley sat staring at him from the screen with a sly grin on her face. She began to speak but her voice was too low for Joe to hear. He reached for the worn remote and mashed all the buttons on it until he found the one for volume. He held it down until her voice was echoing loudly in his skull bouncing off the tiny crystal puzzle pieces in all directions. The sound of her voice was better than any orgasm Joe ever had and he told Shirley so while his back arched and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. When Joe caught his breath Shirley began to speak again. She thanked him for holding her hand and comforting her in her sadness that day and asked if he would hum the song again. Joe licked his lips and hummed what parts of the song he could remember as Shirley wept loudly. He stopped when she began to speak through her tears. He could sense Shirley wanted someone to talk to, someone that would listen to her, someone to love her even with her sore covered face and bruised arms. He did love her and he told her abruptly. Shirley kept talking but through a blood smeared smile now. She was rambling about the day she was born and how it was dark and raining. Not a good day to take a baby home from the hospital she heard a nurse mention, but her father insisted that they leave immediately. Joe listened to every word about the drive home and how the house smelled when they got there until Shirley said she had to go. Joe asked her not to leave and the thought made her giggle like a little girl. She assured him she'd be back soon and that he needed his sleep because he had a long week ahead of him. He agreed as he finished the last bit of vodka in the bottle and closed his eyes. The crescent replaced Shirley and Joe drifted off.

Vanessa jumped out from the closet and landed a knife right in his neck. She was thrashing wildly calling him a deviant and cursing the day she met him. As he lay in a pool of sweat and blood he tried to calm her down with all the canned apologies he'd used through the years. Nothing worked and she continued to growl like a wild animal as she pelted him with slap after slap across the face and chest. He hoped the wound would prove fatal sooner than later because he couldn't take her belittling comments specially since he couldn't fight back. Hours passed and Joe still hadn't seen or heard the end of Vanessa's wrath, but he had pretty much blocked it out until she mentioned his "pitiful crescent." Rage coursed through his paralyzed limbs and he managed to stand up and block several of Vanessa's swings. Just as he thought he had gained the advantage she lifted her dress and revealed what she had become since they last met on the floral duvet that covered their bed. He knew he was fighting a losing battle and pleaded with her to calm down and then he was in a house standing by a fireplace with warm cinders crackling. He heard someone at the door and tried to find somewhere to hide.

A little girl whispered from the stairs, "They can't see you silly."

The door opened and a stunning woman wrapped in what seemed like ten layers of clothes and blankets walked in holding a crying baby. She was followed by a large man with a stoic face and an iron jaw. The man barked at the woman to shut the little fucker up or he'd have to see to it himself and told her to get the hell out of his face before she got what was coming to her. The little girl on the stairs started laughing and ran down to greet the man. He picked her up and whirled her in the air as she screamed with excitement.  The man took put her down and took her hand and led her up the stairs to a bedroom with lace curtains and tons of fluffy pillows.

"Honey wanna play the game with Daddy again, he asked with an eagerness to his voice and a wild glean in his eyes."

Vanessa jumped up and down wildly and again screamed with excitement. The man took that as a yes and the game commenced. Joe had followed them as far as the door way but didn't dare cross into the room for fear of alerting the man to his existence. He watched what he could see and listened to what he could hear. The game looked like a simple game of hide and seek to Joe until its real intention roared loudly when Vanessa screamed that he was hurting her. Joe could see in the dim light that the man had lifted her dress and was on top of her thrusting. He thought he could make out a tear in Vanessa's eye but as he grew more accustomed to the lighting he could see she was sneering at him and laughing.

When her dad finished he pressed down on her chest firmly like he always did and told her, "Our game no one need know about it."

He zipped up his pants and wiped his hands on his jeans leaving most of his excitement on his back pockets. Joe heard the tv in the room with the fireplace come on and he looked at the stairs leading down. When he looked back he was staring his wife in the face. Her mouth was wider than natural and blood and saliva was pouring out onto the floor covering his shoes with a faint red shine. The room began to fill and when the viscous liquid got to his wounded neck he started to panic. Vanessa started laughing and the flow of fluid increased ten fold. As Joe was covered and started to sink he caught a glimpse a little girl above him laughing and snarling. Vanessa had made herself clear. Joe woke up to a rapid heart in a pull of sweat and tears and he knew sleep was out of the question.

Shirley greeted him as soon as he was adjusted to the morning light. She started rambling about the night she was born again and begged Joe to pay attention. He convinced her that he wouldn't miss a word, so she started from where she left off the night before. She mentioned her father yelling and her mother crying in a small dank room. The saltiness of her mother's tears running down her throat made Shirley sad, so she cried more. Her mother pleaded with her to stop before he heard them but it was too late and her dad was outside the door yelling and banging about the racket they were causing. Of course this only caused Shirley to cry more, him to reach his breaking point, and her mother had to take the punishment. Shirley was left in the musty room on a wooden crate as her dad beat her mom and called her a slut and a whore repeatedly. Shirley stopped crying after her mother battered and in immense pain managed to pick her up and rock her to sleep. The next day was no better.

Description
For the past ten years the police had been investigating several deaths of young women around the Los Angeles area. There didn't seem to be any link between the women at first but after a lab technician put the crime scene photos together he noticed all but the first few girls had a similar marking in the same place on their face. A crescent shaped impression on their foreheads was barely noticeable on the bodies after they made it to the morgue but it was clear on the photos taken at the scene. This was the first break they had in the cases since the investigations began. In the end it was the break that would lead them to the killer. Joe employed many methods of ending lives specifically chosen for each of the twelve girls he'd touched with death so far. His wife didn't count because though she was marked with his perfect crescent she was killed before her time in a moment that was out of his control. She was his one regret over the years and he often had nightmares about her lying in wait for him behind some wall or under some bed and when he least expected it she'd make herself known by exploring her vengeful side on his most tender of spots. The vodka helped shake the nightmares about Vanessa and the television help shake his reality until it was fully shattered leaving a puzzle with millions of tiny crystal pieces. Nothing more than static was ever on the screen, but Joe got what he needed from the coded snow. The addresses and times of where he needed to be, the names and pictures of the people he had to kill, and the reassurance that he was doing what had to be done for the better of his and everyones' world. The television helped Joe become the hero he set out to be when he joined the police force. The television was marked with his perfect crescent so bright and beautiful it pulsated and calmed him.

He was just about to fall asleep when he was startled by a painful face that replaced the crescent in the center of the television. He recognized the face and the tangled hair that framed it. He would never forget the last face he saw before he found his crescent. Shirley sat staring at him from the screen with a sly grin on her face. She began to speak but her voice was too low for Joe to hear. He reached for the worn remote and mashed all the buttons on it until he found the one for volume. He held it down until her voice was echoing loudly in his skull bouncing off the tiny crystal puzzle pieces in all directions. The sound of her voice was better than any orgasm Joe ever had and he told Shirley so while his back arched and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. When Joe caught his breath Shirley began to speak again. She thanked him for holding her hand and comforting her in her sadness that day and asked if he would hum the song again. Joe licked his lips and hummed what parts of the song he could remember as Shirley wept loudly. He stopped when she began to speak through her tears. He could sense Shirley wanted someone to talk to, someone that would listen to her, someone to love her even with her sore covered face and bruised arms. He did love her and he told her abruptly. Shirley kept talking but through a blood smeared smile now. She was rambling about the day she was born and how it was dark and raining. Not a good day to take a baby home from the hospital she heard a nurse mention, but her father insisted that they leave immediately. Joe listened to every word about the drive home and how the house smelled when they got there until Shirley said she had to go. Joe asked her not to leave and the thought made her giggle like a little girl. She assured him she'd be back soon and that he needed his sleep because he had a long week ahead of him. He agreed as he finished the last bit of vodka in the bottle and closed his eyes. The crescent replaced Shirley and Joe drifted off.

Vanessa jumped out from the closet and landed a knife right in his neck. She was thrashing wildly calling him a deviant and cursing the day she met him. As he lay in a pool of sweat and blood he tried to calm her down with all the canned apologies he'd used through the years. Nothing worked and she continued to growl like a wild animal as she pelted him with slap after slap across the face and chest. He hoped the wound would prove fatal sooner than later because he couldn't take her belittling comments specially since he couldn't fight back. Hours passed and Joe still hadn't seen or heard the end of Vanessa's wrath, but he had pretty much blocked it out until she mentioned his "pitiful crescent." Rage coursed through his paralyzed limbs and he managed to stand up and block several of Vanessa's swings. Just as he thought he had gained the advantage she lifted her dress and revealed what she had become since they last met on the floral duvet that covered their bed. He knew he was fighting a losing battle and pleaded with her to calm down and then he was in a house standing by a fireplace with warm cinders crackling. He heard someone at the door and tried to find somewhere to hide.

A little girl whispered from the stairs, "They can't see you silly."

The door opened and a stunning woman wrapped in what seemed like ten layers of clothes and blankets walked in holding a crying baby. She was followed by a large man with a stoic face and an iron jaw. The man barked at the woman to shut the little fucker up or he'd have to see to it himself and told her to get the hell out of his face before she got what was coming to her. The little girl on the stairs started laughing and ran down to greet the man. He picked her up and whirled her in the air as she screamed with excitement.  The man took put her down and took her hand and led her up the stairs to a bedroom with lace curtains and tons of fluffy pillows.

"Honey wanna play the game with Daddy again, he asked with an eagerness to his voice and a wild glean in his eyes."

Vanessa jumped up and down wildly and again screamed with excitement. The man took that as a yes and the game commenced. Joe had followed them as far as the door way but didn't dare cross into the room for fear of alerting the man to his existence. He watched what he could see and listened to what he could hear. The game looked like a simple game of hide and seek to Joe until its real intention roared loudly when Vanessa screamed that he was hurting her. Joe could see in the dim light that the man had lifted her dress and was on top of her thrusting. He thought he could make out a tear in Vanessa's eye but as he grew more accustomed to the lighting he could see she was sneering at him and laughing.

When her dad finished he pressed down on her chest firmly like he always did and told her, "Our game no one need know about it."

He zipped up his pants and wiped his hands on his jeans leaving most of his excitement on his back pockets. Joe heard the tv in the room with the fireplace come on and he looked at the stairs leading down. When he looked back he was staring his wife in the face. Her mouth was wider than natural and blood and saliva was pouring out onto the floor covering his shoes with a faint red shine. The room began to fill and when the viscous liquid got to his wounded neck he started to panic. Vanessa started laughing and the flow of fluid increased ten fold. As Joe was covered and started to sink he caught a glimpse a little girl above him laughing and snarling. Vanessa had made herself clear. Joe woke up to a rapid heart in a pull of sweat and tears and he knew sleep was out of the question.

Shirley greeted him as soon as he was adjusted to the morning light. She started rambling about the night she was born again and begged Joe to pay attention. He convinced her that he wouldn't miss a word, so she started from where she left off the night before. She mentioned her father yelling and her mother crying in a small dank room. The saltiness of her mother's tears running down her throat made Shirley sad, so she cried more. Her mother pleaded with her to stop before he heard them but it was too late and her dad was outside the door yelling and banging about the racket they were causing. Of course this only caused Shirley to cry more, him to reach his breaking point, and her mother had to take the punishment. Shirley was left in the musty room on a wooden crate as her dad beat her mom and called her a slut and a whore repeatedly. Shirley stopped crying after her mother battered and in immense pain managed to pick her up and rock her to sleep. The next day was no better.