He Had a Terrible Secret

Warning:

This story contains shocking horror-movie content. Reader discretion is advised.

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He was a man in his mid 40's and had recently retired from the military. He loved being a soldier but got released because of a back injury that required four surgeries and a spinal fusion. He was not fit to be a soldier any longer. He had seen death on a daily basis during his last two tours to Iraq as an advanced combat medic. Killing was a natural instinct, especially when he was getting shot at.

While at home, recovering from his last back surgery, he was watching TV with his wife of 30 years and they happened to turn to George Lopez doing a stand-up comedy routine. The couple was laughing so hard that he was groaning from the pain. But he needed to laugh. He had gotten very depressed after the medical discharge. His wife held him close on his favorite chair as they heard each joke George told, and even cried a little together from laughing so hard.

George started to lay into the celebrities, one right after another and one of them was Britney Spears. He was saying that the paparazzi had gotten a picture of her drunk and getting out of a car. But the shot was of her pussy spread like butter on a piece of toast. Then George said, "Did you see that pussy? It looked like a piece of roast beef," and made a lurching gesture, like he was going to throw up. Of course the audience and the couple laughed so hard at his facial expressions. He was a nut!

After the show John (we'll call him) was so sore from all the laughing he needed a pain killer. He usually went to sleep with the pills. He lay there in the living room with his wife Cherryl (we'll call her) watching him as he slept with the TV on very low as a courtesy for him; He had a long road ahead of him. Not only from the injury, but his depression which he was on medication for. It was Cimbalta and it was also one of those pills that would knock him out when he took it, which was in the evening before bed.

He would snore all night, but Cherryl knew he was resting and had heard that same snoring when he used to get drunk. It didn't really affect her sleep because she was exhausted by the end of the day from taking care of her man, her soldier. She loved him very much, and it killed her that he was down. The Veterans Administration (VA) was taking care of him as far as his medical retirement and would soon convert to Disability pay as soon as all the paper work was in. She was also taking care of that as well as her sick husband.

After about six months, he was feeling better and was up and around the garage tinkering with his stuff he had accumulated over the years. She was happy he was at least getting some air, moving and, if nothing else, rummaging in the garage. Before you knew it, he was off the walker and had already snuck a beer or two, but they would knock him out within a few minutes, mixing with his medication. After a year and half, he was finally off the blood thinner and pain medication but was going to be on the anti-depressants for a long time.

He was already driving and would often take a cruise to the local VFW where he and others like him would chat about the days in the military. Some nights he would call home and ask to be picked up because he was so drunk. His wife worried he was slipping away from her, and even suggested to go back to counseling where he had gone for his Psycho Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) where they talked about their dreams of the deaths they had seen and how it was affecting them in civilian life. He resisted and said he was fine and to just leave him alone and not to worry.

After the two year mark, he was fishing at the local lakes almost daily and was coming home with lots of fish. He had an itch to travel around a little bit and asked his wife for some money from the saving to go for a week long fishing trip. She thought it would do him some good and even got him a cell phone in case he needed her or had problems. He was off on a Friday morning and loaded his little Toyota truck up with all his gear and two suitcases of clothes. She knew he would be alright; he had survived two tours in Iraq and was a strong man, her man.

A day or two later, Cherryl was watching the news and saw a creepy story about a woman who claimed she had been abducted and surgically altered. They wouldn't say what had happened to her, just that she was in the hospital with a strange surgical procedure done to her. The next day, two more women came forward, one claiming the same thing and the other woman landed in the hospital bleeding profusely from a wound. What wound? This story was very strange and sent a chill up her spine. What is this world coming to?

On the fourth day of his trip, John finally called and checked in. He told his wife he was having a great time and was going to go further than he had planned. He asked if she could wire him some money from western union. It was no big deal and she agreed. They made small talk about the house, his fishing and he assured her he was ok. She got in the car, drove to the nearest western union and wired another $200 dollars to him in a town that she had heard on the news. What was the connection? It wasn't important, so she let it go.

After a week had passed, he again called her and said he was ok and would be home in three more days so she was content at least he had called. The news about the strange attacks was on every channel, and it was getting creepier by the day. Finally they said that the surgical procedure was on their private parts but wouldn't elaborate... what the hell? There is a weirdo on the loose and just a few hundred miles from here in Jamesville? That's where my husband was a few days ago! She immediately called her husband and told him about the creep in his neck of the woods, and after she had spoken to him about it for several minutes she found it odd he didn't have much to say about it. Oh, well at least he knows and he can keep an eye out.

Once he got home, he unpacked the car and was back to his normal self... even driving to the VFW at 5pm and having a couple of beers with his buddies after being in the garage most of the day. Once in a while he would come in to watch the news, but he hated the news. He said it was so depressing. Oh well, better just be happy he's getting around on his own, Cherryl thought to herself. Maybe I can go back to work now that he's better. I'm going to have to give my old boss a call and see if my position is open. If it is, I think I will go back. I think he can handle being alone now; he doesn't seem to need me anymore anyway.

After a few days had passed, Cherryl told John that she had called her boss, and he had offered her her old position and that she could start on Monday, if that was ok. He said, "Sure, I'm fine. I told you, go ahead and get out of here! I love you and appreciate all you've done for me, but you can't stay around here at the house and go nuts too!" They both laughed and they hugged as they sat down for dinner. He looked ok, but very quiet, quieter than usual. He's probably just tired, or was it his pain killers or anti-depressants he took periodically as needed, Cherryl thought.

On Monday, she got ready for work and gave him a kiss good by and drove the 18 miles. He stayed to tinker in the garage and mess round at the VFW in the afternoon. Cherryl called him a little after lunch and asked if he had ate anything and he said he did and was ok. So she went back to work and left it at that. Every day for a few weeks, she went to work and left John to his own business at the house, and when she'd get home, he was either sitting watching the news or in the garage. He was in the garage a lot. She wondered what he did in there so much. Was he doing something he wasn't supposed to? I better not ask or he might get upset... should I go snoop around one day, she thought to herself.

A few months passed and every once in a while that strange story would pop up on the TV. There had a total of 18 women who had been altered. Cherryl was creped out by this story but was curious about the details. One day while on break, one of the other girls asked if Cherryl had been following that story about the girls being altered and if she knew anything about it. Cherryl said she had seen bits and pieces of it, but didn't know very much. her coworker said that the women had been knocked out with some kind of sedative on a rag, abducted, dragged into the woods and laid on a vinyl tarp and stripped of their clothes. Cherryl was mesmerized and couldn't wait to hear the rest what she knew. Another girl had overheard them and added that there were reports that the victims' were scrubbed with Clorox and their legs tied spread eagle.

This was so fascinating, but scary at the same time. Cherryl decided to get into the news and ask her husband, who seemed to watch more now a day's. I got home and ran into the living room where I heard the TV on and asked my husband if he had heard about "The Mutilator", they named him in the media. He said no and turned the channel. That was strange. Cherryl was watching the news, but she never argued with him after he came home from the hospital, doctor's orders. She went up stairs and turned on the bedroom TV to see if she could catch a bit of the story. The details were getting more and more specific, and the one thing that was really weird was the fact that none of the victims were raped, just mutilated or altered. Cherryl still didn't know what was altered or mutilated, and the police who were investigating in Jamestown and the FBI were mum about the details of the mutilations so that they could have at least those details to themselves.

Another month had passed and the couple was getting near the three year mark of John's surgery, and he was using his pain pills less and less. Cherryl noticed he was not home anymore when she got back in the evening. She decided to go into the garage and see what he had been doing in there all this time. She sneaked a peek from the kitchen door into the garage and noticed a new refrigerator in there. What was that for? It's probably full of beer and snacks. Cherryl walked over to the refrigerator and cracked it open to find a few jars with what looked like worms floating in liquid. Yuck! That was gross! She thought it was weird that there were only two worms in each jar and there were about 20 jars in there. They were her pickling jars. Oh well, she didn't use them anymore but what a strange thing to have in there. Was he planning to go on another fishing trip?

At about 8pm, Cherryl was lying in bed and heard the door open and figured it was her husband coming from the VFW and turned on the news. The reports immediately were on several girls in the local area who had been mutilated and were giving descriptions to the police. Some of the girls were sitting up, wrapped in blankets... where had they been mutilated? How could they be sitting up? What was the mutilator doing to them?

Cherryl freaked out and ran down stairs to tell her husband that the freak was in their town but he knew. He was on the same channel. "What do you think of this crazy person out there? I wonder what he's doing to them." He said they probably deserved it and turned off the TV and walked upstairs, as if it was no big deal.

Cherryl stood there, still anxious about this news, and he just walked away. She was a little bit mad and turned off all the lights and went upstairs and asked him if he gave a shit about anything. He turned and looked at her and said, "Don't worry about it. It's not our business," and got under the covers. Cherryl was furious and didn't sleep a wink. She got up early and stormed out of the house and headed straight to work. At least someone there would listen to me, she thought. She asked her friend what she thought about this nut case being in their town and if she had heard anything else. Her coworker said that a friend of hers' husband worked at the police station and had heard some gruesome details about the six girls that had been mutilated in town. Three of them were hospitalized with severe skin burns from the Clorox, but nothing about the injuries.

Cherryl was starting to get so scared; she was even considering quitting her job so she wouldn't have to get home after dark. Wait a minute, my husband could drive me to work and pick me up, he wasn't doing anything, she thought. He wouldn't have it. He said no and not to worry about it and to quit dwelling on it anymore. He was sick of hearing about the mutilator and was going out of town tomorrow on a fishing trip. Cherryl said, "The hell you are! If you're going, so am I."

He turned around a looked at her with the meanest look she had ever seen on her husband. He snarled at her with his teeth showing and said, "Over my dead body you're going!" She was in shock. He actually scared her. She was going to her mother's and called in sick as soon as she got there. Her mom knew a lady at the local hospital and called her and asked if she had any information on the mutilations. She said she couldn't talk on the phone but would come over later, the FBI was everywhere.

That afternoon, the nurse friend of Cheryl's mom came over and walked in looking like she had seen a ghost. She came in and asked for some water and sat at the kitchen table where they had had many cups of coffee together. Once she had gotten the water and nearly drank the whole glass in one gulp, she turned to Cheryl's mom and said she had never seen anything like this in her 28 year career as a nurse. Women being violated, women being mutilated, they were having their vaginal lips cut off.

"What?" the mom and daughter screamed almost simultaneously. That was disgusting. She went on to say that the weirdest part was that the guy was not raping them, just trimming off their vaginal lips. He would untie them and bandage the surgery with gauze pressed tightly over the cut lips and their clothes left for them folded on the tarp. They were in shock. Who was this guy? Do they have any leads? Why was he doing this? What was the purpose? Cherryl was felling so nauseated that she ran to the bathroom and puked her guts out.

She was so afraid to even go outside at night. It was becoming a serial... what? He wasn't killing anyone; he wasn't raping anyone, he was just mutilating women's vaginas. Now the count was over 30 women, and they all had the same story. But, one of them saw him and his vehicle. They had her under lock and key at the hospital and were interrogating her for anything she could give them. She said that the guy was quiet; hardly spoke except to whisper things like, "now your pussy looks better," and "you're going to love it when I'm done." Cherryl was on the edge of her seat hearing this on the news and that the guy smelled like beer.

They talked about this weirdo for hours and hours till almost midnight. Cherryl told her mom how her husband had been acting and how he wouldn't even let her go fishing with him this weekend. She was thinking about quitting her job again till this freak was caught! Her mom said she could stay as long as she wanted and went up stairs to make up her old room. At about that time, Cherryl heard a knock at her mom's front door. She walked to the foyer and standing about 3 feet from the door yelled, "Who is it?" It was her husband. Had he come to apologize, or to ask her to come home? She went to the door with a big smile. He was standing there with that glazed look in his eyes and just said he was leaving and didn't know when he was coming back. He turned, walked to his truck and drove off.

Cherryl ran into the house crying and ran to her room where her mom was. She told her what had happened. Her mom said to not worry about John and to let it go. He'd be back. Cherryl told her that she didn't think so and cried herself to sleep. All night she tossed and turned and could not get to sleep. Squeezing her legs together all night, she imagined she was getting mutilated while tied up in the woods having her vaginal lips trimmed. Cherryl and her mother got up in the morning, both of looking a little ragged.

They sat to have coffee. Cherryl was still foggy from lack of sleep. Her mom had a TV in the kitchen and turned it on to the news as they drank their coffee. Right away, the news was talking about this guy cutting women and how he would do it and how their stories were all the same. Then the news announced a sudden breakthrough in the case. One of the girls had identified the mutilator's car as a Toyota truck.

Cherryl almost fell out of her chair and screamed, "Oh my God! Mom, John drives a Toyota!" Her mom said to calm down and to not jump to conclusions. But how could she not? He was in the same town the first women were being mutilated, and he was gone an extra week and he could have gone to the other towns nearby that had mutilations and he left again last night! She told her mom she had a bad feeling about this and asked her mom to go to the house with her. They drove the 30 minutes to her house and the garage was open. It was very strange. He always closed the door to the garage. She said they better call the police before they went in. They called the local police station and within a minute an officer showed up to escort them into the garage.

Cherryl explained how her husband had been acting and where he had been and the strange jars in the refrigerator. Within another five minutes, the FBI was at her house, ready to go into the garage. Cherryl and her mother walked behind the officers and the FBI agent. She pointed out the refrigerator and noticed as they were going in, a stack of new tarps was lying in a corner she had not seen before and she started to cry. Her mom squeezed her and said not to jump to conclusions and they kept their distance. Once the officer looked into the refrigerator everyone all held their breath. There was nothing! Cherryl told them what she had seen in there and asked them what that was? They were all local boys and they said that they were not sure or not going to guess but it might have been worms for fishing, but were not going to assume anything.

They asked Cherry to call her husband on his cell phone so they could talk to him. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. The FBI said they had to get approval, but they could get a GPS track on his phone once they got the call. Within an hour, they were tracking John at about four hours from the house at a lake on the other side of Jamestown, where the first girl had been mutilated. Cherryl kept calling, hoping he would answer, but he would not. She told the officers that her husband always carried a pistol in his truck and that he had been on anti-depressant medication and that he had been acting strange lately. She thought she could be of some help if they took her along. The FBI agent said it might be a good idea and escorted her to his car. Cherryl told her mom not to worry and that she'd see her soon as they drove away.

Cheryl's mind was reeling with crazy thoughts. Would they find him fishing? Would they find him in the woods with another woman? Was he the mutilator? As they neared the place they had tracked him to, it was already dusk and she could see a camp fire burning through the trees. He's alright, she thought. He's probably asleep in his truck with a beer in one hand and a fishing rod in the other. As they approached the camp site, the FBI agent said for her to stay back at the vehicle, and if he needed her, he would signal her to his location. Cherryl was frozen in fear, but she was scared for her husband. Her tears poured out of her eyes as they approached his truck.

Once they got near and she could hear them yell his name, "John, John," and they got no response. She knew something was wrong. One of the officer's quickly came back to the car and radioed for an ambulance as Cherryl ran past him to her husband. As she neared the camp fire, the FBI agent said it was too late. He was gone. She screamed, "No, no, not my Husband. Not my husband," and fell to her knees. She could see him laying on the bank of the lake with his rod in one hand and his gun in the other. He had killed himself. Why? He was getting better, wasn't he?