When two patrol officers find a mutilated man bound to a cross and mumbling to himself, it leaves the entire city of Las Vegas wondering who would do such a horrendous thing; and why. Amid the chaos, a lone, dark figure is watching, knowing that he alone holds all the answers. Shortly, it is he who goes from being a wanted man to an ally of the police and the residents of the City of Bright Lights.
To this man, he is the sole protector of the weak, the gladiator for the defenseless and has heard and seen enough. He shall be the champion of their cause, their protector, the Savior of abused children from the hell in which they are forced to live.
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Chapter 1
The sky was dark and ominous. The clouds looked like smoke damaged cotton. Musky, dark shadowy puffs, barely moving, were hanging over the city as if waiting for some opportune time to open up and drench the filth of the city away. The wind blew a cold chill across the ground, scattering the trash and leaves in little whirlwind funnels, sliding effortlessly from one place then to no place in particular.
It was barely drizzling. The streets were wet from the recent downpour. It had only given a sample of the torrential pounding that was coming. Off in the distance thunder boomed its warning. Lightning cracked and lit up the sky.
In the center of the courtyard, on the large grassy area leading up to the huge, concrete steps of the courthouse was a lone figure. The figure was slumped forward. His arms outstretched, bound to supports of some sort so that it would not fall over.
Far off in the distance, sirens were blaring. A low mumbling was coming from this lone, bound figure. It was unintelligible, seemingly incoherent.
Officer Sam Reynolds and his partner Officer Jack “Jake” Jacoby were doing their usual cursory rounds. It had been slow, not much going on. It seemed that even the junkies, the whores, and the other creatures of the night couldn’t find it in their hearts to trudge out in this nasty, cold, damp weather.
“Hey Jake, hold up.” Officer Reynolds said. He shined the spotlight across the grassy area of the courtyard.
“What the hell is that?” Officer Jacoby said. He slowed the cruiser and pulled over to the curb.
“Hell, I don’t know, but call it in and let’s go take a look.”
“Control, this is Unit 10, 10-107 in front of the courthouse, we’re going to take a look.”
“10-4 Unit 10.”
The two of them got out of the cruiser. With flashlights trained on the figure in the middle of the courtyard and hands on their weapons. They slowly approached the lone figure in the center of the court.
As they approached, they could hear the sounds of sobbing, mumbling, and pleading. They watched the figure as it trembled.
“Holy Jesus, what the hell….” Officer Jacoby couldn’t believe his eyes.
The lone figure was mumbling incessantly, “I’m sorry, really, please, I won’t do it again. Really, I won’t. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, yes, yes, I’m sorry…”
The two officers froze where they stood. In front of them, fastened to a short, sturdy, wooden shape of a cross was a man. He was on his knees. His head hung to his chest. His arms had been held to the cross member by metal tie wire in at least four places, two to each arm. His legs straddled the vertical piece, bound at the ankles behind him with the same type of tie wire.
Officer Reynolds took a step closer. Staring at the man’s head, he shined the light on him, shining the beam over the figure from head to toe. He gasped, unable to believe what he saw before him.
The first thing that he noticed was the man’s thumbs had been removed. Shining the light on his face, he noticed that it appeared that his eyelids had been sewn shut. The mumbling and sobbing that they heard was coming from an audio device fastened to the man’s legs behind him. As he shone the light closer on the man’s face, it was apparent why the audio machine was there. The man’s tongue, apparently, cut out. There were trails of dried blood where it had stained his chin. That was the mumbling that they heard as they were approaching. Across his forehead in bold letters branded the words, child molester.
Reynolds looked at Jacoby, eyes wide in disbelief. “What the hell do you make of this Jake?”
The man, completely naked, was bound to the makeshift cross. Nearly all of his senses were mutilated. For what they did not know nor had a clue. There was a small sign hanging from a cord draped around his neck. “Voi testamento sapere il veritas e il veritas testamento fissato voi libero, John 8:28”
“What the hell is that?” Jake said, pointing to the small sign around the man’s neck.
Reynolds bent down, looked at the small sign, and tried to read it. “It’s some sort of foreign language for sure. Looks like something in Italian maybe. We’ll have to get it translated.”
“Let’s get the paramedics and the crime scene guys out here. We don’t want to touch him. There’s probably evidence here. I don’t think we’re gonna get much outta this guy, especially tonight. As they looked down at him, it was apparent that the lone figure wasn’t even aware that they were there.
“Control, Unit 10” Reynolds said into his radio.
“Go ahead 10.”
“We have a 10-47, need 10-78 ASAP, also send investigative CS unit, medical team, the whole bit.”
“10-4 Unit 10”
Reynolds had to let them know that they had an injury and needed an ambulance as quickly as possible. This was out of their area; they needed to let the people who dealt with this kind of thing come in.
A dark figure watched from across the street. He sat atop a three-story building. He could see everything very clearly through his night vision glasses. He slipped the remote device to the audio player into his pocket.
They would be struggling, rifling through what little evidence they may have trying to figure out what had happened. There wouldn’t be any evidence. They would never figure it out on their own. They’d discover who the man was sure. They’d even uncover his past. However, they would never know the why of it. That was the sad thing. Therefore, the cast was set. This was just a message, a sample of what was to come. It wasn’t the smartest thing for him to do, but they had to know. First thing in the morning, they would find out who and what this monster was. It would be the first of many, only then would they understand the reason and justification of his actions. Yes, it would be the first and definitely not the last of such messages. The others who were yet to come would simply be reminders. All he wanted was to let them know. Let them know that there was a new judge and jury in town. He would keep reminding them until they got it right and there were no more abused children left. All of the news stations would be all over it. It would most probably be Channel 8’s big breaking news story. They were pathetic with shit like this. They’d run the story repeatedly until you were just sick to death of it. They went back and forth between this and the stupid weather. They repeated it every three minutes. That’s what he wanted though. It was important to let all of those parasites out there know that he was coming. He wanted to let them know that he was here, and that he wasn’t going away. He couldn’t go away. The children needed him. He’d seen and heard enough. He was their protector, the champion of their cause, their savior from the hell in which they lived. He was the Guardian!
To this man, he is the sole protector of the weak, the gladiator for the defenseless and has heard and seen enough. He shall be the champion of their cause, their protector, the Savior of abused children from the hell in which they are forced to live.
--------------------------
Chapter 1
The sky was dark and ominous. The clouds looked like smoke damaged cotton. Musky, dark shadowy puffs, barely moving, were hanging over the city as if waiting for some opportune time to open up and drench the filth of the city away. The wind blew a cold chill across the ground, scattering the trash and leaves in little whirlwind funnels, sliding effortlessly from one place then to no place in particular.
It was barely drizzling. The streets were wet from the recent downpour. It had only given a sample of the torrential pounding that was coming. Off in the distance thunder boomed its warning. Lightning cracked and lit up the sky.
In the center of the courtyard, on the large grassy area leading up to the huge, concrete steps of the courthouse was a lone figure. The figure was slumped forward. His arms outstretched, bound to supports of some sort so that it would not fall over.
Far off in the distance, sirens were blaring. A low mumbling was coming from this lone, bound figure. It was unintelligible, seemingly incoherent.
Officer Sam Reynolds and his partner Officer Jack “Jake” Jacoby were doing their usual cursory rounds. It had been slow, not much going on. It seemed that even the junkies, the whores, and the other creatures of the night couldn’t find it in their hearts to trudge out in this nasty, cold, damp weather.
“Hey Jake, hold up.” Officer Reynolds said. He shined the spotlight across the grassy area of the courtyard.
“What the hell is that?” Officer Jacoby said. He slowed the cruiser and pulled over to the curb.
“Hell, I don’t know, but call it in and let’s go take a look.”
“Control, this is Unit 10, 10-107 in front of the courthouse, we’re going to take a look.”
“10-4 Unit 10.”
The two of them got out of the cruiser. With flashlights trained on the figure in the middle of the courtyard and hands on their weapons. They slowly approached the lone figure in the center of the court.
As they approached, they could hear the sounds of sobbing, mumbling, and pleading. They watched the figure as it trembled.
“Holy Jesus, what the hell….” Officer Jacoby couldn’t believe his eyes.
The lone figure was mumbling incessantly, “I’m sorry, really, please, I won’t do it again. Really, I won’t. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, yes, yes, I’m sorry…”
The two officers froze where they stood. In front of them, fastened to a short, sturdy, wooden shape of a cross was a man. He was on his knees. His head hung to his chest. His arms had been held to the cross member by metal tie wire in at least four places, two to each arm. His legs straddled the vertical piece, bound at the ankles behind him with the same type of tie wire.
Officer Reynolds took a step closer. Staring at the man’s head, he shined the light on him, shining the beam over the figure from head to toe. He gasped, unable to believe what he saw before him.
The first thing that he noticed was the man’s thumbs had been removed. Shining the light on his face, he noticed that it appeared that his eyelids had been sewn shut. The mumbling and sobbing that they heard was coming from an audio device fastened to the man’s legs behind him. As he shone the light closer on the man’s face, it was apparent why the audio machine was there. The man’s tongue, apparently, cut out. There were trails of dried blood where it had stained his chin. That was the mumbling that they heard as they were approaching. Across his forehead in bold letters branded the words, child molester.
Reynolds looked at Jacoby, eyes wide in disbelief. “What the hell do you make of this Jake?”
The man, completely naked, was bound to the makeshift cross. Nearly all of his senses were mutilated. For what they did not know nor had a clue. There was a small sign hanging from a cord draped around his neck. “Voi testamento sapere il veritas e il veritas testamento fissato voi libero, John 8:28”
“What the hell is that?” Jake said, pointing to the small sign around the man’s neck.
Reynolds bent down, looked at the small sign, and tried to read it. “It’s some sort of foreign language for sure. Looks like something in Italian maybe. We’ll have to get it translated.”
“Let’s get the paramedics and the crime scene guys out here. We don’t want to touch him. There’s probably evidence here. I don’t think we’re gonna get much outta this guy, especially tonight. As they looked down at him, it was apparent that the lone figure wasn’t even aware that they were there.
“Control, Unit 10” Reynolds said into his radio.
“Go ahead 10.”
“We have a 10-47, need 10-78 ASAP, also send investigative CS unit, medical team, the whole bit.”
“10-4 Unit 10”
Reynolds had to let them know that they had an injury and needed an ambulance as quickly as possible. This was out of their area; they needed to let the people who dealt with this kind of thing come in.
A dark figure watched from across the street. He sat atop a three-story building. He could see everything very clearly through his night vision glasses. He slipped the remote device to the audio player into his pocket.
They would be struggling, rifling through what little evidence they may have trying to figure out what had happened. There wouldn’t be any evidence. They would never figure it out on their own. They’d discover who the man was sure. They’d even uncover his past. However, they would never know the why of it. That was the sad thing. Therefore, the cast was set. This was just a message, a sample of what was to come. It wasn’t the smartest thing for him to do, but they had to know. First thing in the morning, they would find out who and what this monster was. It would be the first of many, only then would they understand the reason and justification of his actions. Yes, it would be the first and definitely not the last of such messages. The others who were yet to come would simply be reminders. All he wanted was to let them know. Let them know that there was a new judge and jury in town. He would keep reminding them until they got it right and there were no more abused children left. All of the news stations would be all over it. It would most probably be Channel 8’s big breaking news story. They were pathetic with shit like this. They’d run the story repeatedly until you were just sick to death of it. They went back and forth between this and the stupid weather. They repeated it every three minutes. That’s what he wanted though. It was important to let all of those parasites out there know that he was coming. He wanted to let them know that he was here, and that he wasn’t going away. He couldn’t go away. The children needed him. He’d seen and heard enough. He was their protector, the champion of their cause, their savior from the hell in which they lived. He was the Guardian!
