The Renfield Syndrome Ch. 09

The Renfield Syndrome (Bisexual horror) - David is an ordinary man thrown into a nightmarish world of bloodlust and passion with his own humanity at stake. This is an ongoing work in progress of psychosexual horror. https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=7267751&page=submissions

Content Warning: Bloody horror violence and gore, strong sexual content, dubious consent

Author's note: There has been a change made to chapter 7, Matt no longer escapes alive. Bad form to retcon I know, but I feel it's an important enough change to the story.

CHAPTER 9

Under normal circumstances, Sergeant Kim Bailey loved visiting Neighbor's Nightclub. It was one of her favorite spots on her nights off, and she had built a solid circle of friends among the staff and the regulars. However, called in at seven thirty on a rainy Monday morning to oversee the cleanup of a quadruple homicide wasn't normal circumstances. She stood in the alley behind the building, sipping a fast-food cup of coffee and surveying the carnage. It made her feel queasy. There was no other way to put it, the alleyway had been turned into a slaughterhouse.

"Jesus Harold Mortimer Christ," she said aloud to no one in particular. "Dogs. It had to be dogs."

The coroner and his flunkies were already at the scene, bagging and tagging the human remains. One was drawing a chalk outline around the short and pudgy victim a little way up the alley, and he was forced to draw a figure that looked macrocephalic as he took a huge detour around his ruined head. The corpse's clothes had been torn away and the flesh of his back had clearly been gnawed on. All four of the victims had been chewed on post-mortem, the big one had no face at all left. The man at Kim's feet was still recognizable and she knew his face, it was a local boy with the moniker of Kent "BloodHammer" McCellan. He was partially decapitated, but his neck had not been cut through with a blade, it had been savaged. Something had literally torn his head off.

But the worst by far was the victim at the farthest end of the alley, by the chain link fence. He was dressed differently from the other three who had a military theme going, looking instead like he'd come out of the club. He was lying on his back with his blank eyes filling with rain, his mouth wrenched open in a silent scream. His torso had been unzipped from throat to scrotum by whatever wild animal could have possibly done this.

Kim pulled out her phone and checked to see if anyone at animal control would be answering yet. A pack of feral dogs roaming around Capitol Hill was seriously bad news, and it was the likeliest explanation short of the zoo losing one of their Bengal tigers. Years of meticulous and thorough investigations had taught Kim that the likeliest explanation was usually true, but this time she felt she was grasping at straws. Yet there was simply no way these four had been killed by a human being.

The body at her feet was well known to her, good old BloodHammer had a record of civil disturbance and assault in her jurisdiction going back years. He was a moderate player in one of the local white nationalist militias that were becoming mainstream in recent years. He and his buddies regularly harassed Neighbors Nightclub, mostly "peaceful" protests with the neo-Nazis yelling slurs through bullhorns and throwing sieg heils from the street. But sometimes they would successfully pick a fight, and BloodHammer's idea of a fair fight was having five of his friends put you in the hospital and then crying self-defense. Apparently, this time he'd picked a fight with the wrong pack of Tasmanian Devils.

"Hey Jorge," she said to the coroner as he stowed his kit back in the van. "Let me know the minute you figure out cause of death. Make that the second. I want to know what we're looking for. It's been raining on the bodies all night and that's going to make trace evidence a bitch and a half, but I want to know what's been chewing on them. And if they were dead before the animals got to them or after."

"You bet, Sergeant," the coroner said. "Do you think they might have been killed first and something else got to them?"

Kim looked around the gory crime scene and grimaced. "I'd love to think that someone just got tired of BloodHammer's shit, I've been expecting it for years and the line of suspects starts to the left. But no way all of this was done by a man, and there's not a bullet hole or stab wound on them that we've found yet. This wasn't a gangland thing, or at least I hope to God it's not. If this is someone making a statement, we have a psychopath on our hands."

"No shell casings, rain washed away any footprints or fingerprints, it's not a lot to go on."

"Just find out what the hell killed them, and I'll handle the rest." Kim went to say more but suddenly there was commotion at the mouth of the alley. Two figures appeared, stopping just short of the police tape cordoning off the scene. One had a handheld video camera that he was already recording with, and Kim groaned inwardly as she recognized the other, a tall and bleach blonde woman speaking into a microphone.

"Sergeant Bailey!" the woman called with an air of great self-importance. "Sergeant Bailey, I want to speak to you!"

"Oh, you do, huh Barbara?" Kim said under her breath. "Goodie for me." She intentionally ignored the interloper as her demands for attention grew ever more strident, pretending to be engaged in a deep conversation with the coroner. Finally, when Barbara's "Sergeant Baileys" grew too shrill to ignore any longer, Kim turned with a look of surprise and approached her. "Barbara McKay! When did you get here?"

"Sergeant Bailey," the exasperated woman said, holding her microphone out. "We understand there has been an incident here with multiple bodies!" Her cameraman leaned over the police tape as far as he could, focusing on the gruesome scene. "Do you suspect a homicide?" she pressed. "Given the location, is the LGBT community involved?"

"We don't know anything yet," Kim said. "We'll publish the coroner's report just like we always do, Barbara. What the hell are you doing down here?"

"Oh, gnarly!" enthused the cameraman as he captured a shot of the big faceless man getting zipped into a black body bag, and Kim winced.

"I'm doing the people's work, Sergeant Bailey," Barbara said, the stress on Kim's rank sarcastic for some reason. "If there's been a multiple homicide, the people have a right to know!"

"Sure, and it has nothing to do with the location, does it Barbara?" Kim said with her own level of sarcasm. "Nobody said this was a homicide, we'll have the coroner's report out by tomorrow, and you can get the whole story. To me it looks like a wild animal attack."

"I don't think you're taking the threat seriously, Sergeant!" Her cameraman was now capturing a Pulitzer quality shot of BloodHammer's gruesome near decapitation, and Barbara pointed an accusing finger at the corpse. "Four men are dead, horribly mutilated at the city's most popular gay club..."

"Not AT the club, Barbara. Nobody involved with the club is under suspicion, so why don't you just..."

"I would think with murders this brutal, an officer of the law would want to pursue every avenue. Why are you so quick to disregard the gay community as a suspect, Sergeant? It is because you frequent this establishment yourself?" There was a note of triumph in her voice, like she'd just made a revelation.

"What I do in my off time is none of your fucking business, Barbara," Kim snapped.

"How unprofessional! And this sounds like a conflict of interest to me! I'll be speaking to your superior officer, how do we know if the murderer is a member of your gay community, you'll be any more professional than you've been with me today?" She jabbed her microphone in Kim's face to capture her response, and Kim was struck with the urge to knock it out of her hand.

"I already told you, it looks like an animal attack," she said, straining to keep her fiery Irish temper down. "There IS no murderer that we know of yet, Barbara. And there's no reason to believe it has anything to do with 'my gay community' or anybody else's. We'll both know more after the coroner's report, and that's my official statement on the matter. Now buzz the hell off or I'll arrest you."

"Freedom of the press, Sergeant," Barbara sneered. "I know you people don't believe in the First Amendment, but some of us patriotic citizens do! This is a public menace, and we have a right to know if we're in danger!"

"I've given you a statement and you got your video. We'll be done here in half an hour and then you can stand here all goddamn day and First Amendment your ass off. But in the meantime, cross that police line and you'll be First Amendment-ing from the back of my squad car. And if you don't believe me, Barbara, I really hope you'll try me."

Kim turned her back on them both, just in time to catch sight of a coroner scooping up the neo-Nazi's brains in preparation of zipping him into a body bag. That would make a hell of an image for Barbara's story on her sleazebag news network. Kim swallowed and tasted something greasy in her throat and resisted the urge to spit. She was pissed they'd gotten her face on camera and made her part of their crusade to prove the existence of Neighbor's Nightclub was a threat to society.

Soon the coroners had finished with the grisly task of bagging the human remains, with Kim herself lending an extra hand. Goodbye, you Nazi bitch she thought as they zipped BloodHammer's bag closed, hiding his mutilated corpse from view. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy. One by one the bodies were placed in the morgue ambulance for shipment downtown, with Barbara and her cameraman capturing the entire scene on film. Kim ignored them and pulled the coroner aside before he got in his car and left.

"Seriously, Jorge, call me the minute you know what the hell was chewing on these guys. The bitch over there was right about one thing, this is a public menace. Once an animal has a taste for human flesh, it'll come back for more. The last thing we need is some kind of fucking maneater on the loose."

"You got it, Sergeant, I'll put a rush on it and call you straight away. Definitely a danger of rabies too, I'd say."

"That occurred to me too, I'm talking to animal control next." Kim shot a sour glance at Barbara, being filmed by her cameraman as she gave some kind of commentary beneath a large bloodstain on the alley wall. "Maybe I can get them to haul away the blonde Hagbeast from AmericaNews while they're at it. She's definitely a rabies threat."

Kim raised a hand as Jorge climbed into his car, and she gave the scene of the attack one final perusal. Even after the steady rain all night, the blood was nowhere near washed away and was splashed on every surface, and the chalk outlines stood out in white against the deep smears of red. Although the coroners had scoured every inch of the alleyway looking for animal tracks and found none, a pack of dogs remained the likeliest culprit. Still, larger wildlife did have a record of turning up in the greater Seattle area, such as coyotes, bears, cougars, and even the occasional wolf, and Kim didn't discount any of these possibilities either. Whatever had turned the victims to tartare had been strong and exceptionally vicious, and as long as it remained on the loose people were in danger.

With one more dour look at Barbara who appeared entirely too smug for Kim's comfort, she left the alley and walked to where her car was parked, already dialing animal control on her phone. The rain began to come down harder, and with an irritated glance at the gray sky Kim wondered how long it was going to last this time.

*****

David knocked on the door to Lori's apartment, his arms loaded with grocery bags. He had gotten a few peaceful hours' snooze in Lucas' bed and arisen with much less of a hangover than he expected. David's mornings after tended to be brutal and lasted forever, but this time he was spared the worst of the headache and bilious nausea. Running mostly on autopilot, he had a surprisingly productive day, replacing both his phone and his bank cards so he was no longer broke and cut off from the world. David had even successfully tracked down his missing vehicle. It was in a SeaTac impound lot and the fee to get it out was an obscenity, but he hoped to manage it in the next day or two.

David had given serious thought to cancelling his dinner date, especially considering he was a violent offender now. But ultimately, with Lucas' advice about maintaining a normal life in mind, he had gone grocery shopping if for no other reason than it might be his last ever chance to do so. David hadn't even had anything to drink today and was maintaining well aside from shakiness and a moderate case of withdrawal sweats. Every time he relapsed the symptoms got worse.

Once again David's supersensitive olfactory system provided him with a wealth of information before Lori had even opened the door, and still more as she smilingly answered his knock. "Hey David! Come in, thanks for doing the shopping!" Lori had dressed up for their date, wearing a black dress that hugged her ample curves and her face made up with dark lipstick and eyeliner in her usual gothy fashion. She took one of the bags from him and led the way into her small apartment's kitchen to set it on the counter and then pulled him into a tight hug. Lori's scent filled David's head, and he was suddenly aware that she was ovulating. "It's great to see you! You look like you're feeling better."

"I am," David said, returning her squeeze. "Trying to get my life back in order. I haven't got my car back yet, but I finally got my phone replaced. They're really handy to have, but I'm glad I grew up before smartphones myself. Hope that doesn't make me sound old."

"Nah. I think the hardest thing to explain to a time traveler from the past would be 'I have a device in my pocket capable of accessing all of human knowledge, and I use it to look at pictures of cats and get in arguments with strangers'." Lori released him and started to help unload the grocery sacks of carrots, onions, peppers, broccoli, and numerous other ingredients for a tasty vegetarian stir-fry.

"How are you?" David asked as he produced from the other bag the ingredients for the sauce and set them on the counter. "You look great, I love that dress on you."

"Thanks! My day's been stressy, but I'm better now," Lori said. "I'm really glad you were able to make it over, I've been needing some positive company, like bad. I need to spend an hour or two with someone who doesn't suck." Lori produced a cutting board and sharp knife for David to use and retrieved a wok from an upper cupboard which she set on the stove.

"Why have you been needing positive company? Anyone specific being sucky or just people in general?" David deftly cored an orange pepper and set to slicing it evenly, his hands moving with practiced expertise though they trembled a bit.

"A little from column A, a little from column B. Right now, I'm recovering a hard drive for use in a legal case, and it's got some really bad stuff on it, you know? Like the worst stuff. Like stuff I didn't need to know was even a thing, so I need some serious brain bleach and distraction." Sharing the preparation duties, Lori got out a pan and filled it with water to boil the rice.

"God, that sounds awful. If it's a legal case, is somebody getting locked up for it?" David quickly finished slicing the orange pepper and pushed it aside, then switched to the yellow.

"They damn well should, forever. It's all dark web shit, like the kind of thing the FBI needs to get on yesterday. I thought I was jaded as fuck, but holy Christ I didn't need that shit in my head." She set the pan of water on the stove to heat, and then moved to hug David from behind, watching with interest as he swiftly dismantled the vegetables one at a time. "And on top of that, men suck in general and dating is the worst. I hate being single."

"Rats, I was really hoping that last one you told me about was going to pan out. What happened, just didn't vibe?"

"Our first date, literally five minutes in, and he started an entire conversation about the size and talent of his penis." Lori groaned and rested her head in the middle of David's back.

"Well, nothing like getting right to the point, I guess." David said, switching to green onions.

"Right? It's like when I'm going out on a date with a guy, I know he wants to have sex, you know? I get it, and there's an excellent chance that I'm DTF myself, ask me later. But at least pretend to be interested in something else for the duration of one lousy meal. Humor me, I'm a fucking lady." Lori rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"I'm telling you, we're all pigs," David said. "Seriously, gay guys aren't any better, we're animals." And I'm living proof, you should have seen me in action last night, he thought to himself. "We have one thing on our minds."

"You don't, but you have an open invitation any time you do have it on your mind. Just putting it out there." Lori teased. "Anyway, at the same time he's talking about sex, he's also talking about how much of a classic gentleman he is and how much he respects women and blah blah blah. He's just a classic gentleman who's really proud of his big dick. I survive the evening and he of course wants me to come over to his place, but he had put me right out of the mood, you know? I say, 'no thank you, maybe next time', and I'm telling you his fucking his head popped. Total fucking Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde. I didn't trust or respect him, and I was fat and ugly anyway, and I just passed up the chance of a lifetime. And just for good measure he expressed his great wishes that I get raped on the way home."

"Jesus Christ!" David said. "Are you serious?

"And THEN he stuck me with the fucking check!" Lori laughed incredulously.

"Oh my God, that's insane," David said. "Men DO suck! It sounds like you dodged one hell of a bullet at least, holy shit."

"I dodged a cannonball," Lori said. "Way too many red flags confirmed. Serious question, do gay guys treat each other that way?"

"It's never happened to me, thank God. But you're not the first person I've heard with a story like this. It seems to be pretty common amongst the straights." David finished slicing the vegetables by dismembering some large mushrooms, and then got a bowl down from the cupboard to start preparing the sauce.

"Then there are the 'alpha males' who want a 'tradwife'," Lori complained. "I'm honestly not sure who's worse, them or the incels."

"Who are the incels?" David asked.

"Involuntary celibates, real long story short is they hate women because they can't get laid. There's a lot of overlap in the Venn diagram with alpha males. Alphas are the self-declared dominant and aggressive men, and I've never met one in my life that wasn't a whiny little bitch. They demand submission and respect on the merit of their penises and become enraged when it's not handed to them. I ain't submitting to jack shit, Buster, you can kiss my entire ass."

"Hoo boy, I'm not a fan of dominance games either," David said, thinking of Belial. "I'm lazy, making someone submit to my will sounds like a lot of work. Maybe for someone's birthday, but not as a lifestyle thing." David mixed soy and teriyaki sauce with an extra dash of hot sauce and some honey for his signature sauce.