Dr. Snip

At last he could drop the pretence and drag her out of the car into the room he had prepared for her. She struggled ineffectively as he handcuffed her to the steel bed.

He had watched her as she passed his window every morning on her way to school. It seemed to him that she would wriggle her tight little bottom at him on purpose, as she walked past. He had convinced himself that she had once pretended to drop something on the pavement, just so she could bend over and show him her little white knickers.

She had no idea that he had already seen her naked on a few occasions through his high power binoculars. He looked down at the girl as she struggled on the bed, he had gagged her to stop her annoying pleading and crying. The sight of her totally helpless turned him on in a big way.

'Shut up,' he snarled,' you are going to get what you have asked for and no mistake,' . She was now to frightened to move and just lay there.

He had planned this for months, renting a bungalow under an assumed name, and buying an old car without registering it. Then as a final safety precaution fitting false number plates to it. This house and car couldn't be traced back to him, just in case someone had noticed her getting into his car. It was also a good address for getting his sex supplies and kiddie porn off the Internet, as even if it were traced the trail would end here.

All in all he felt safe here, and when he had completely finished with her, he had other little girls on his list to sample. He would probably have to kill her he realised, but she was no loss. He couldn't wait to sympathise with her sluttish mother, when they found what he would leave of her daughter.

It would teach her, it would teach them all to treat him the way they did. He sat on the side of the bed and thought of all the things he was going to do to her.

He heard the merry sound of the doorbell echoing through the house. 'What the hell?' he swore making his way towards the front door. He looked out the side window to see a deliveryman with a big parcel. He was waiting for a set of videos from a supplier in Amsterdam, trust them to show up now.

Forcing a polite smile onto his face he opened the door to take delivery. The delivery man was a big bastard, and as he was about to speak to him the idiot poked him with a stick.

The man had walked around the bungalow listening for a clue as to where they were. He decided to take a chance and go in through the front door, faking a parcel out of a piece of spare cardboard he rang the bell.

Vince eventually answered the door, and before he could say anything the man thrust a shock baton into his chest. The electric shock flung him violently back into the house, and he ended up sprawled unconscious on the living room floor.

When Vince regained consciousness, he was lying on his back on the heavy kitchen table. He had been stripped naked, his hands and feet were handcuffed to the legs of the table and he was helpless. He could hear voices coming from the playroom, but couldn't make out the words clearly.

After securing Vince to the table the big man walked through into the next room, the little girl on the bed froze in terror at the sight of him. He didn't blame her, as the expression on his face would have scared anyone. He made a great effort, and put a friendly smile on his face.

'Hello Mary I'm here to rescue you, you are safe now.' He reassured the little girl, as he unlocked the handcuffs that held her to the bed. After helping her to sit up, he wrapped her in a blanket to keep her warm.

'I want you to stay here Mary, while I sort out that man who kidnapped you, do you know him?' 'Yes he lives next door, his name is Vince something, and I've hardly spoken to him, why did he want to hurt me?' she sobbed.

'He is ill in the head' he replied 'but I am a Doctor and I can cure him,' he replied in a grim cold voice. He told her to wait there until the Police came, and went back into the kitchen to confront Vince. The pervert had been put in the kitchen for a reason; it had a tiled floor and was out of sight and sound of the girl.

Vince was thrashing around on the table and when he saw him he glared at him in rage, and mumbled through the gag that had been tied around his mouth. 'Save your breath' the man advised in a cold deadly voice, 'I know all about you and what you had planned for little Mary.'

The big man walked to the door and closed it firmly. 'You are going to be found almost as you are now; there is enough evidence in your playroom and on your computer to convict you as a Paedophile.' While he was talking the man took a thin police restraint band from his pocket and looped it between Vince's body and testicles, he pulled it tight, cutting off the blood flow.

'Mary will tell her story about you kidnapping her, I'm aware that you haven't actually killed anyone yet, but I also know what you would have done had I not intervened. Knowing what I do about what you intended, I should kill you now.'

At this Vince stopped struggling, in the realisation that he was helpless to protect himself if this man chose to kill him. 'Don't worry pervert,' the man said, 'I'm not a killer by nature, but I cannot take the chance that you will escape justice and attempt this again, so I'm going to cure you.'

'This will hurt' he advised the terrified Vince 'but it is better than being dead, although if I hear of you again I will return and kill you.'

He then brought out of his pocket a brand new pair of pruning secateurs. 'I believe that your problems come from your perverted desires, and by removing your desires I hope to remove your drive to hurt others.'

He laid the shears down beside Vince and pulled out his phone, he made two calls, the first to the police advising them of the situation and asking that they get here as fast as possible.

The second call was to the Ambulance service, advising them that they would find a man who had been recently castrated and giving the address.

When asked for his name he answered Dr, Snip. Vince had listened in disbelief to the conversations and knew what was in store for him, the man waited with him until the police sirens could be heard approaching.

Not until the sound of the police car skidding to a halt in the driveway reached their ears, did the man pick up the secateurs and with one quick snip cut off the pervert's testicles. Thanks to the restraint band there wasn't as much blood as he had expected, although this was no comfort to Vince.

He then walked behind the screaming man until he was out of his sight, and went back to his car in the lay-by. He drove quietly away with the reflections of the blue flashing lights in his car mirror. Despite the persistent rain he felt that he had spread a little sunshine in this dark and dangerous world.

The big man felt reasonably good about the way it had gone, and just hoped that the girl would get over her experience. After returning the rental car he went home, and after a meal and a drink he went to bed for a well deserved rest.

There were four other cases of a similar nature, and he intervened in all of them successfully. In each case when contacting the police, he gave his name as Dr. Snip. He was creating this character for a reason. The newspapers soon heard of the Vigilante, and his unique way of dealing with Paedophiles. They were speculating as to his identity, and in general pushing the story for all it was worth.

What amazed them, and bewildered the Police, was his sources of information. In every case concrete proof was found of the guilt of the one found castrated. Even so Dr. Snip was a wanted man, the Police had a warrant out for him for GBH, despite the general approval of the public.

WHO IS Dr. SNIP? The newspapers screamed out in large headlines and editorials around the country, soon his name was on every ones lips. It was at this point that the man's plan began to show fruit. He realised that although he was putting the fear of Dr. Snip into the hearts of paedophiles in general, he needed to specifically target those who were the most likely to offend.

He purchased a few dozen sets of secatures, and made a list of dangerous perverts compiled from restricted files. He sent a personal letter to each of them, warning them that they were being monitored by Dr. Snip. With each letter he enclosed a new pair of secatures.

Receiving such a letter gave the recipients such a shock that they often not only cleared their computers of any kiddie porn, they often got rid of their computers altogether. Some believing that he could trace them, via the Internet.

Apart from these targeted letters, he was well aware that there were hundreds of undiscovered perverts that he would never be able to threaten individually. Consequently he used the Newspapers as a weapon, and wrote an open letter to all Paedophiles warning them to change their ways or suffer his wrath.

Over the phone he arranged to hand copies of this letter to a group of chosen reporters at a nearby building site. As he had forseen, along with the reporters came a team of Police to arrest him.

The reporters met him as arranged on the building site, he was standing in the door of a steel container, wearing a black executioners hood. On a wooden crate in front of the container, he had laid out the copies of the letter.

The police had completely surrounded the site, and as a representative of the reporters picked up the letters, they moved in quickly. The reporters all had their cameras working as Dr. Snip waved goodbye to them, and calmly walked into the steel container.

The Police team rushed into the container a few seconds later, only to emerge with expressions of bafflement on their faces. Dr. Snip had vanished from a solid steel container.

The newspapers went ballistic; this was the story of the century. Dr. Snip must be a magician or an illusionist to have escaped so easily from such a situation. The container was dismantled, by police experts. They reported that it was just an ordinary bog standard steel container; they couldn't explain how anyone could escape from it once they were inside.

Famous professional Illusionists were discreetly consulted, and they also stated that they couldn't have done this feat without a specially made container. As the big man had planned, Dr. Snip's letter was put on the front page of every paper, and he hoped that it would give budding perverts second thoughts. It was noticed that he praised the police in this letter, and stated that without their help he wouldn't be able to accomplish his work so effectively.

All this misinformation served his purpose admirably, as he was able to nip a lot of potential crimes in the bud using the pervert's own fear against them. The greatest mystery of Dr. Snip, was how on earth he knew about these paedophiles and where to find them.

The end of Normality

Another day in Paradise, thought Sergeant Steve Steele gloomily, as his patrol car hurtled through the pouring rain. The wipers swished back and forth, as they valiantly tried to keep the windscreen clear of water.

The emergency lights on the car roof were stabbing out into the gloom, and the siren was screaming out its song of urgency. It was the start of February, and it seemed to have been raining since Christmas. He hated the rain; he was a sun lover and couldn't wait until summer had returned.

In his experience rain usually meant road accidents. Steve was a muscular well-built man twenty-nine years old, over six feet tall, and liked to keep in trim. After five years in the Paras, he had decided to join the police and had enjoyed it so far, he was based at Stratford.

Being an introvert by nature, he preferred to operate alone, as he found having a partner, whether at work or in his personal life, introduced too many complications for comfort. He had realized early on that he wasn't a team player; he had never liked team games where he was dependent on others to win.

His favorite sport was rifle shooting, it suited his nature as if he missed the target it was his fault alone. He found the discipline relaxing after a difficult day at work, and had become well known and respected in the sport.

This Road Traffic Accident had been called in by a Mrs. Pritchard who was the driver involved, she had reported that she had run over someone, and given her location. The dispatcher had arranged for an ambulance to go to the scene as well as the police.

Steve saw the accident scene well before he reached it, as the A11 at this point was straight and clear for about a mile. She had shown the good sense to put on her Hazard warning lights, but Steve left his emergency lights on as he pulled up behind her car for extra safety.

The rain had thankfully stopped as Steve got out of the car and approached the driver. She was sitting in her car clutching her mobile phone to her chest, and shaking with delayed shock. Steve introduced himself and seeing a car blanket on the rear seat, draped it over her shoulders to keep her warm while he checked out the victim.

'He just appeared in front of me,' she sobbed, ' I didn't have time to even start to brake before I hit him, I think he's dead .' From the look of the crumpled heap by the side of the road Steve was tempted to agree with her, but he walked over to check anyway.

He was amazed to see, as he got closer that not only was the man's arm moving, but he was trying to use his mobile phone. The effort proved too much for him however. As Steve bent down to see what the damage was, the man looked up at him and said in a pain-racked voice, 'I must call home urgently please dial for me,' and whispered a number.

Steve heard the Ambulance arrive behind him so in order to calm the man he punched in the numbers. As he went to hand the phone back, the man slipped into unconsciousness. Steve slipped the phone into his pocket to free his hands, and turned to see if he could assist the paramedics.

The Paramedics were trying to resuscitate the man but didn't need his help, so Steve turned his attention to Mrs. Pritchard. As per Standard Operating Procedure he asked her if she would agree to be breathalised. She agreed, and as he expected the test proved negative.

As she was in no state to drive, he helped her into his patrol car. After locking her car he drove the distraught woman back to her home. Steve left her in the care of her husband, and arranged to call back tomorrow to take a statement from her.

He checked with the Dispatcher and was told that the accident victim had died on the way to the Hospital. There had been no identification on him so he had been registered as John Doe until further investigations.

Perfect end to a perfect day, Steve thought sourly. It was almost the end of his shift, so he decided to call it a night and go home. It had started to rain again as drove back to Stratford, the sound of its drumming on the roof of his car was very depressing.

The Device (1943)

It was the 5th February and the morning was bright and sunny, he was sipping his breakfast tea when he remembered the victims phone, it was still in his pocket where he had left it the night before.

It looked like one of the new WAP phones that not only could make phone calls, but also could probably go on the Internet, pick up radio stations, and if set on vibration could relieve a stiff neck.

Steve was actually a fan of the mobile phone, he thought it was a milestone invention ranking alongside the wheel and the Personal Computer. As a policeman he was looking forward to the day when every child old enough to use one had one. It would cut the incidence of lost children drastically for one thing, as parents would always be within a phone call of their offspring.

Walkers and mountain climbers should in his opinion be made by law to carry them, to save rescue teams valuable time in finding them when they did something stupid like breaking a leg. Like most policemen Steve had little tolerance for people who deliberately put themselves at risk, and then relied on others to risk themselves to help them.

As the victim had no identification on him, he tried finding the Telephone list on the phone. He planned to simply call any of the victim's friends, and ask them if they could help identify the owner of the phone.

This phone however seemed far more complicated than the ones he was used to, so he decided to ring Peter at the Station. Peter always had cutting edge equipment, from Stereo Systems to Personal Computer's and he would definitely have the latest in Mobiles.

He could tell Steve how to access its Memory over the phone. He punched in Peter's number, and as he couldn't see a call button he hit the one marked Enter. Steve felt a twisting sensation in his guts, and blacked out.

He awoke facedown in a field, he felt like he'd been drinking the night before, his mind was fuzzy and he thought he could hear cows. He could definitely smell grass, probably because his nose was pressed into a patch of it that had thankfully missed the attentions of the cows. They stood around him curiously chewing their cuds in a thoughtful manner.

Steve carefully sat up and looked around, everything seemed normal, that is of course if cows and fields in the middle of London were normal. He was definitely in the countryside, and as far as he knew the nearest countryside to his flat was about twenty miles away.

Apart from a throbbing headache he seemed in one piece, so he took a deep breath and carefully stood up. From here I can see for miles he thought but not a building anywhere, he started walking in the direction he was looking. After about fifteen minutes he came to a narrow road with a crossroad.

Unfortunately some clever sod had painted out all the names on it, so it was useless to him. He tossed a mental coin and turned left, after trudging along for another ten minutes he saw a collection of buildings ahead, one of which looked very much like a Pub.

He'd been surprised that he had not seen or heard any traffic on the road whilst he was on it, but as he got closer to the Pub he noticed a van parked outside. He also noticed that although it was a narrow road there were no yellow lines; trust a copper to notice that he thought. The van looked like the theme vans, shops bought to deliver their goods in, sort of old fashioned although this one needed a good polish

The Pub was called the Queen's Head, it was a typical looking country Pub with exposed timbers and Steve went in to ask for directions. It was dark and cool inside compared to the bright day and Steve stood for a moment to let his eyes adjust, another coppers trick. The few locals that were scattered about the place gave him a quick glance, before returning to their own business.

He walked over to the bar and waited for the barmaid to serve him, there was a yeasty smell of beer that he found comforting. The barmaid was the type that all pubs should have, large bosomed and friendly. Although she seemed to be wearing an old fashioned dress that covered her legs to below her knees.

When asked what he'd like Steve explained that his car had broken down and he was lost, where was he please. Rather than immediately answering him, the barmaid studied Steve for a moment. 'What accent is that then?' she asked?

'London, born and bred,' he replied with a grin, 'I hadn't realised it was so strong.' 'We don't get all that many Londoners around here,' the girl replied seeming to relax a bit, 'this is just outside Colchester.'

'Thanks,' said Steve, 'as I'm driving I won't have a drink as such, but I would appreciate a glass of water.' 'You managed to get some petrol then? You must work for the civil service,' she commented.'

'I suppose a copper is a civil servant,' he replied with a smile. She walked off to get his water, swinging her hips unconsciously. As he waited for it Steve looked around at interior of the Pub, it was shady and cool after the heat of the outside and it seemed to be done out in a Second World War theme.