The Phantom Ritual (DCI Morgan Chester: Case One)

Chapter Fourteen

The bitch is still alive.

His large and smooth hands curled around the arms of the chair; anger ripped through him like wildfire. Close to him, five female student nurses stood in a cluster by the fridge in the staff kitchen, gossiping amongst themselves about what happened to the patient being questioned by police.

"She had it coming." One said.

"They know the kind of danger they put themselves in." Another responded. Others debated on the subject.

Their voices hummed in his ears as he played out this morning's events like it was a movie trailer. He should have been more thorough and made sure both girls were dead. The survivor could identify him, and he will be arrested. He had to come up with a plan to keep his identity a secret and execute it quickly.

He had come to know the dead girl's name was Yolanda. He did not mean to kill her; he just wanted her to get off him. She lost her balance and fell to the market below.

The other girl he saw sneak into the market on his way to get transport back to his home. She reminded him of dear sweet Emma. Had she come back to haunt him?

He followed her into the market and waited until she came out of the public toilet. She dressed as a trampy whore, much like Emma had done the last night he saw her. The type of clothes that screamed for attention from men. When she appeared, he struck her with a brick that he picked up near one of the stalls. She fell to the floor, and he saw Emma's face. He wrapped his fingers around her neck and started to choke her. Rage consumed him.

He then felt a force push against him. Yolanda was standing over the other girl to protect her. She did not look like Emma, but she saw too much. He lunged towards Yolanda, and fear flashed in her eyes as he grabbed her roughly by the throat. She fought bravely against him, kicking at him and throwing punches. But he was stronger. He pushed her away from him. The heel of her shoe snapped, and she crashed through the railing. He crept over and saw her body slide off the stone horse statue.

The sickening sound of Yolanda's neck snapping rocked in his mind. It was so satisfying to him. The other girl watched in terror. She knew then that she was next.

The adrenaline eventually wore off just before he returned home. That was when he realised what he had done and had to destroy any evidence he had on him.

Olivia's body was broken, but her brain miraculously was not seriously damaged. Now she was resting in a hospital bed, and the detective was poking her nose around. He will have to deal with her later.

The students left the kitchen after washing their cups in the sink. They acknowledged him on the way out. His eyes met with one of the students, a slim brunette with green eyes. She flashed him a soft but flirtatious smile before she closed the door behind her.

He was flattered. It was an ego boost to have young women swooning over him. He could have any of them with the click of his fingers, but he had a specific type.

An irritating itch irritated him. Since Emma, he had learned to control it. He felt as if he was rapidly losing control, and it became unbearable.

He straightened and brushed down his scrubs before he left the kitchen. The hospital was busier than usual due to the seasonal flu outbreak. Instead of an open ward, the Intensive Care Unit was divided into individual rooms to preserve the patients and their family's privacy.

Through the small window in the door, he could see Olivia sleeping peacefully. The man who was with her earlier was nowhere to be seen. He scanned his surroundings. The hallway was empty. Perfect, he thought to himself.

Discreetly, he slipped into the room and locked the door behind him. He had to be quick as it would not be long until her friend came back. He pulled the scalpel out of his pocket and crept towards the girl. The itch throbbed rapidly. He traced his index finger across her bruised cheek, admiring his handiwork. Her skin was so soft, just like Emma's. Images of the last time he saw Emma flashed through his mind.

Olivia's eyes fluttered open; her head felt heavy and dizzy. Her heart raced, and panic crushed her chest when her eyes connected with his. She reached her hand out for the emergency button on the remote placed on the side of her bed. He snapped his hand around her wrist and pulled it back violently. She whimpered in pain as her shoulder clicked.

She struggled against him with all her energy as he climbed onto the bed and straddled her waist. She used her free hand to push against his chest. He gripped her wrists with one hand and stretched them above her head before wrapping them to the frame with the thin duvet. Hot tears splashed on his large hand as it covered her mouth to silence her. With the scalpel, he ripped open her hospital gown, exposing her breasts to him. He gently traced the scalpel along the ridge between her breasts and towards her throat. He looked into her eyes and placed a kiss on her forehead. Olivia bit down on the skin of his palm. His eyes turned dark, and his hand connected with her cheek.

"I am sorry, Em, but you have left me no choice." He muttered as his hand enveloped her mouth and nose.

Olivia's legs thrashed under him as he used his weight to pin her into the bed. She felt his hand reach her throat and squeeze. Her lungs ached for air as his grip tightened and slowly crushed her windpipe. Dark spots danced in her vision.

She muffled her last scream into his palm before she slipped into the darkness.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he watched her eyes slowly close. His breathing slowed as he released his hand from her throat. He unwrapped her arms and placed them beside her. Olivia's breathing had stopped; he felt for her pulse just under her jaw. It was weak. She was still alive!

He raised the scalpel and pressed it to the middle of her throat. It pierced the skin, and crimson blood started to spill onto his hands. The blade cut through the muscles and veins roughly as he tried to drag it across. Olivia's eyes flew open, and she started to choke; blood spilt from her lips. She wrapped her hands around his wrist, her eyes urgently pleading for him to stop.

He had to make sure she was dead. Blood spurted all over him from the severed jugular. He pulled the scalpel back, raised it and stabbed it into her neck, severing the vocal cords. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and her body went limp with her arms collapsing on the bed. She took one last raspy breath and fell still.

The itch should have subsided, but all he could see was Emma laying in the bed instead of Olivia. He had to cure the craving. Once it would be gone, he could feel better and can continue with everyday life.

He climbed off her and walked around to the footof the bed, pushed off the rest of the duvet and hitched up her hospital gown.He used the scalpel to slice off her underwear and pulled her legs apart.