Art

New York city, the big apple; it looks like a paradise in all those romantic comedy movies. The reality is, this place is where the devil comes to piss. The streets are rotten with degenerates and filth, drugs are rampant, especially in the Bronx, where I, Henry Stark, always end up investigating. Tonight is no different, there's been another murder, one of many, but this one is particularly sick. Just like the rest of this god forsaken place, where it always rains and the sun never shines. Among the graffiti the body lay, cramped up against a wall, the poor victim's skin was full of cuts depicting triangular shapes all over his body, he was bloody, beaten, naked and slaughtered for all to see. Stripped of his clothes and dignity, a twisted art piece for passersby to gawk at. Disgusting, but believe it or not, I've seen worse! However upon seeing this sad display, even I found myself gagging slightly. The body had rotted by the time we found it, giving off a foul stench I'm unfortunately far too used to. Of course it was up to me to do all the dirty work, as always. I began examining the cuts, they had a red slice in the middle of each triangle, perhaps it was a symbol of the Illuminati. I later came to discover that it was the mark of the so-called artist, the one who had done this terrible murder and proudly, shamelessly projected it to the scared public. Was it to scare the people of New York or inspire them? My job is to solve murders, not evaluate the minds of sick fucks like this psycho. So not even I could tell you what was wrong with them. Not long after, another murder was spotted, this time in Manhattan, it was a female body on this second occasion. She had her corpse snapped in a number of disturbing and unnatural ways, her head and neck had turned towards her back, arms and legs bending to create a triangular shape that stood up like some kind of statue or fucked up art exhibit. The killer had placed this up in the middle of Times Square. Hundreds, if not thousands of people saw it. Most people ran in frantic terror, screaming in the streets, taxis screeched to a halt to avoid the scared stampede of pedestrians. NYPD blocked off the whole area, I came in to investigate the crime scene. The same triangles with red cuts in the middle were all over her naked body, just like with the last victim. Catching the killer was easy after that, there were cameras all over the area who spotted the mad man setting up this dark art. He was a strange looking man, one that had long hair and a mustache that ended in sharp points, wearing a black and white horizontal striped shirt, with blue jeans that were skin tight and likely too small for him. He looked like your stereotypical hipster douchebag, the type of guy that preached veganism and drank pumpkin spiced lattes at Starcup Cafe. Tracking the man down was too easy, in fact, Harold Victor wanted to be caught, all so he could be in the newspapers as some kind of creative genius. A pretentious artist who broke the laws of morality, in order to push the boundaries between what is acceptable and taboo. Well, he got his fifteen minutes of fame all right, but not long after entering prison, the inmates turned him into a gruesome art piece themselves. One morning a prison guard came to his cell, since Harold wasn't in the canteen like the rest of the scumbags. However, upon marching towards where Harold was supposed to be, the prison guard saw something he'd never forget. Harold had been stripped naked on the bottom bunk bed, his prison room mate had cut exactly one hundred and forty two triangles into Harold's flesh, all with the dot cuts in the middle of each one. It is unknown whether or not Harold wanted this to happen, wishing to become a part of his own art project. Or maybe his room mate simply hated the 'artist' and decided to punish the killer by giving him a taste of his own medicine. Whatever the case may be, the matter is closed. It doesn't really matter what the nature behind Harold's death was, either way he suffered and I say good riddance that a piece of shit like that no longer walks amongst us. That all happened in 2023, it's been two years since then, but I'll always remember the looks of horror upon his two victims' faces. It was like they had seen the devil himself, with their very own eyes.