Kraken
Posts: 7
Joined: 2/23/2007
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Kraken
Intro
I lay here bound and seemingly helpless, but where is here?
I am blindfolded; my nose is plugged with a scent filter, my mouth gagged. I can only rely on my senses of touch and hearing. Warm air gently caresses the right side of my body, while cold air stabs sharp cold needles into my left side.
My right ankle tied with soft velvet, my left tied with a thorn metal chain.
A soft silk cloth wrapped around my neck hugs my right breast and holds it in place. A metal cloth pin digs deep into my left nipple. Slowly the sharp pain dissipates and numbness follows as warm blood flows down my breast.
I hear footsteps eco in the distance. A squeak of a door knob heightens my sensations as I await my fate. They will come for me. I know they will come for me. The GPS locator embedded into my thigh will lead them to me. Soundless words run into my head in an attempt to comfort myself.
I am determined to find him. I will not fail my superiors, I will not fail myself. I will capture Kraken. I attempt to draw strength from my resolve.
My mind wonders for a moment to the beginning of my plight. The media frenzy was what first brought him to light. Over the period of six months a number of women in different parts of the country were found bound, gagged and tortured to the edge of death.
The victims were from all walks of life. They were of all ages, shapes, sizes, education and race. Aside from the manner in which they were found, the other main common factor between them was a tattoo.
As no DNA was ever recovered from any of the crime scenes, the only physical evidence of his existence, aside from the savage beating each woman received, was his branding, his seal, the tattoo, the mark of the Kraken. Not a single tattoo parlor was able to identify the origins of the design. A nationwide search yielded no results as to who the artist was.
Each tattoo was an individual depiction of each victim within the grasp of an outlined skin-toned Kraken. The Kraken held each victim exactly the same way. I remember my horror and fascination as I looked at the pictures of the tattoo.
Four of the Kraken’s tentacles held her arms and legs and spread them wide. A fifth tentacle wrapped itself around her neck and extended itself into her mouth, as a sixth tentacle buried itself deep in the warmth between her legs.
The woman’s right arm and leg were held firmly yet gently by the Kraken as droplets of water ran down her limbs. The woman’s left arm and leg were squeezed tightly as the Kraken’s sharp ends dug into them while droplets of blood trickled down her body.
Another two tentacles extended to her breasts. The right breast gently caressed while the left one mercilessly squeezed. The last set of tentacles is at the bottom of her buttocks acting as a chair. The right buttock comfortably sinking into the softness of the Kraken’s tentacle while the left buttock is clenched in pain as the Kraken’s sharp ends dug into it.
At her feet in the middle between her spread legs rested a mixture of blood and water.
Each woman’s face in the tattoo was a fusion of ecstasy and agony.
After being hospitalized, each woman was extensively interviewed and re-interviewed in hopes of finding the monster who did this to them. They all stuck to one line, they did not know. Each woman was abducted from her home. Each woman went to sleep and woke up the next day restrained in a location they could not recognize as they were blindfolded.
For the duration of their captivity they were asked a set of confusing questions, “Who is Kraken? Where is Kraken? What did Kraken make you do?”
These were the questions on the mind of every law enforcement agent in the country.
I remember reading one of the victims’ interviews. “In the beginning many kinksters speculated that he is no more than an urban myth in the fetish community. “A guy who pays your bills and shows you a good time?” they laughed”.
“No one knew his real name. No one had ever seen his face. Few were allowed a taste of his intoxicating scent. Yet anyone who ventured into his lair felt him, his unyielding touch, his invigorating presence, his captivating power, his unparalleled control. Only a fortunate few were allowed to drink his nectar of approval.”
“No one can contact him, although many constantly seek him. If he sets his eyes on you, he finds a way to lock the mercury of his chains around your ankles.”
To our knowledge no one has yet refused him.
No one knew who his first woman was, how his name became the whispers of many.
Strangest of all, no one knew where he lives. Even those who were summoned to his domain could not discern its location.
“He is as transparent as the air, yet as dark as the depth of the ocean,” one victim proclaimed.
All the victims insisted that the man, who tortured them and left them at the edge of death, was not Kraken. “He did not “feel” like Kraken,” They insisted. His voice was different. His scent was different. Everything about his “energy” was the complete opposite of what they had experienced the first time. “Plus, why would he ask us these questions about himself?” they persisted, “The person that tortured us really wanted to know who Kraken was” they seemed certain of it.
The department’s psychological profiler explained the confusing line of questioning. Kraken is a disturbed, possibly schizophrenic psychopath. He lured the women with his charm and provided them with a very deep emotional and physical experience. Afterwards, consciously or through an alternate ego, he aimed to destroy the women on every level, gaining satisfaction from the power of creation and destruction he has over them. He has what is called the, “God Complex.”
He enjoys the process of breaking the women. As he questions them about himself while he is torturing them, he is destroying and killing everything he created in them. In the same time in their minds he is creating the notion that he is a different person from what they encountered the first time. Thus they struggle more to keep the sanctity of something they hold deer while enduring the pain. He gets his satisfaction when they finally break and spill all they were not supposed to tell. Then he departs the scene leaving them there, pretending to be frustrated with the lack of an answer from his victims to the questions of who is Kraken and where does he live, as the women truly do not know.
Our investigation revealed that he contacted the victims online through BDSM dating sites. His account had not been used since the case became public. Traces on his account lead to a dead end. The victim’s computers’ were no better. After the first encounter each victim had been returned to her normal life, they were instructed to delete all the digital data of their contact and use publicly known and available software to completely eliminate the possibilities of data retrieval.
After some strictly online conversing, through text only, never voice, each woman received an invitation to his “lair” to experience life and existence in ways they never before thought or conceived. As a token of good faith, all their finances were covered for a full month before the meeting. After the women agreed, each was given a set of instructions to initiate the meeting. They are instructed to quit their jobs and promised all their finances will continue to be taken care of electronically until they return to their normal lives and found new jobs. Or course the electronic trail once more lead nowhere.
Each woman was instructed to fly to a different part of the country with no luggage, carrying no more than her wallet and some money. They were not allowed to have any electronics with them, including cell phones. Each woman was to go to a public park at a specific time during the night and await Kraken. Surprisingly the last night each woman remembers after that is sitting or standing in the park waiting. The next thing they remember is being awake and bound in a place they could not see or smell.
During their entire stay, they were blindfolded. Some stayed days, others weeks. Each woman had a different story about her experience with Kraken. However, they all started out painful and ended up blissful.
When the time came for them to go back to their normal lives, they recall being scrubbed, bathed and washed inside numerous times. This procedure was to leave no traces of DNA or fibers on or in them. After the last bathing, they recall nothing until being awake at another park late at night, after which they flew home.
The interaction was not reached under the pretense of prostitution. Some of the women were wealthy and needed no such financial support. Yet Kraken insisted on financially supporting the women during the time they spent in his “lair”. After each victim found a new job or managed to return to her old one, Kraken would terminate contact with them as it was mutually agreed upon beforehand.
The victims felt repressed, frustrated, unfulfilled and underwhelmed by society’s everyday norms and expectations. Each victim felt they had an opportunity to let out every ounce of their womanhood into light. To live and expose all their being, both dark and bright to the very core of whom they are.
“What a lucrative offer especially if delivered by a man of Kraken’s proven charm and caliber in manipulation”, I thought to myself.
Even the victims that were married or involved in some way, he found ways to draw them in and even get consent of their significant others. Some of his victims were businesswomen who employed, managed and controlled tens if not hundreds of employees. Yet he managed to “Bewitch them” so to speak. The media called him, “The modern day psychological houdini.”
A nickname rightfully deserved in my opinion. I grew up believing a woman should not bow to any man. A woman is as good as any man. A woman loses herself once she submits to any man. Through this case I saw the truth in my beliefs.
After the public frenzy, something unexpected happened. We received an email with the names and addresses of all the women Kraken Had ever come in contact with. The email urged us to protect these women. The email was from Kraken. He also denied any involvement in the torture cases. Since then Kraken had stopped contacting any new women.
The psychological profiler assed this as Kraken’s way of playing with us, “He is challenging us to catch him”, he insisted. “That is also why he did not kill those women”, he continued.
After months of research and endless interviews this was all the information we could gather. We caught a lucky break when the last woman Kraken had initiated a conversation with and set up a meeting, came to us. Kraken had attempted to contact her since the case exploded into the media. She however was too frightened to open any of his messages and was too embarrassed to come forward to the authorities. At the insistence of her husband, she had finally agreed to step forward.
As this has become a priority issue for my superiors, it was decided someone had to go deep into the underground. Someone had to take this woman’s place and try to draw Kraken out. Luckily he had not seen this woman’s picture. He only had a vague description of what she looked like. She was about to send him her picture before the meeting was to take place, but when the case became public, she had retracted that idea.
No female officer fitting the woman’s general description dared to volunteer for the assignment. I stepped up almost immediately after being briefed. They were hesitant about sending a junior officer out in the field in the throngs of such a dangerous mission. But I was the only volunteer, they had no other choice.
I must prove myself. I am determined to find him. I will not fail my superiors, I will not fail myself. I will capture Kraken.
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