The Second Taking

3.4K 130 28
                                    

The phone call arrived on a quiet evening.
Just like the evening you're reading this right now.

The officer's voice was almost unheard, all I could make out was a tiny trace of his whisper into the phone.

He said, 'Detective Wolff, are you home?'

"Yes" I say, "What is it you want?"

'It's about Kaitlyn Becker.'

For a second, my heart stops.

"Is she alright?"

'No detective, she's been taken for a second time.'

I struggle to find the words, and once I do, I tell him that I'm on my way. I grab the first jacket I see and drive to the station.
"Holy shit" I mutter beneath my breath, "Why would they return her and take her again."

At the station, my colleagues say she was last seen at her home. We call the boyfriend in once again and asked him a few questions.

This was what he said.
"I fed her lunch, then went for a shower. After I came out, there was blood all over the carpet and drawer."

There are tears that fill his eyes.
"Please detective, I want to go home" he cries.

'I'm sorry' I say, 'You'll be staying here for the rest of the night.'

The time is now 3am, the caffeine from the coffee keeps us alert. And then, the phone rings.
Just like it did during the first.

There is no number on the pad, and the call is too short for us to run a trace.

"Hello detectives, Kaitlyn Becker isn't missing.
You're just looking in the wrong place."

'What?' one of my colleagues scream, and the voice on the phone begins to laugh.

The boyfriend is still inside, and locked up.

'Where is she?' I ask, and then we hear her scream. Her agonising moan.

"Oh detectives. Kaitlyn Becker's body never left her home."

I run, like I've never run before.
How the fuck could we miss this, I think. How did we not look around for more.

We reach her apartment, and let the hounds search the place. They start barking when they enter her room.

I follow them, until they're crouched down beside her bed. Their barks are the loudest they've ever been and they're trying to sniff the underneath of her mattress.

I hold my breath.
And lift the mattress off.

The stench of decaying flesh fills the air.
I see a tuft of Kaitlyn Becker's hair. But it was what's between the strands that scares me the most.

I see her fingers.
And each one of her toes.

But where is she. 'She's not fucking here' says an officer.

And that's when it hits me.
I remember the exact words of what the phone call said. I shiver. I now know what it meant.

"Kaitlyn Becker's body never left her home."

Because a part of her body was her fingers, and toes.

I feel dizzy, and lean against the wall.

"Wolff, are you okay?" asks my colleague.

'I know where she is. I know where they have left her body.'

"Where?"

'The same place they did the last time. The sewer beneath the hospital lobby."

She looks the same like she did before. Only this time, she's screaming in absolute pain. Her lips are bandaged, just like how they were. But she bleeds from her fingers, her toes all over the floor.

She looks at me, there are no more tears left to leave her eye. She whispers without moving her lips.

'Detecti-es, I rather die'

I hold her, as the ambulance takes her in.

"I want her to be protected by gunned officers, 24/7."

'Okay' says the lieutenant.

I don't go home. Instead, I go straight to the station. I stay there researching the case until late next morning. Her boyfriend is allowed to go home, under strict orders that he and Kaitlyn are never left alone.

The next day comes, and the next goes.
I still can't make sense why they would cut her tongue, her fingers and her toes.

What were they trying to convey?
Why are they hunting her as though she's some sort of prey?

And then, on the day after. I am awoken with a phone call.

"Oh detective..." the voice sings.

My heart races, I must be hearing things.

'Who is this?'

"You know exactly who I am."

I rush to the laptop and begin to set up a trace.

"I'm sorry about the officers. I didn't want to harm them, but they were in the way."

The call disconnects, and then I receive another call.
This one is from the lieutenant.

"The officers protecting her are shot dead."

I'm not nauseous now. Instead, rage fills my veins.

"Kaitlyn Becker—, has been taken again."

The takings of Kaitlyn Becker Where stories live. Discover now