PFC Chapter 4492 The Darkest Night (2)
Chapter 4492 The Darkest Night (2)
Chapter 4492 The Darkest Night (Part 20)
“Jenna! Jenna! Wake up from your lover’s sweetheart’s clutches right now!” Amanda’s roar came through the phone receiver. “256 Morsen Street, Building C, meet there!”
Jenna, who had been pacing around for a day and a night, was forced to sit up straight from her chair. The members of the behavioral science office, who were photocopying documents, gave her a somewhat sympathetic look.
“Ms. Waller is always like this.” The blonde brought Jenna a cup of coffee and said, “Are you alright? If you’re really not feeling well, just take a day off. Brainiac won’t force you to work.”
Jenna shook her head and said, "I'm not human, I don't need that much rest."
“High-intensity, continuous empathy is dangerous for any empathizer,” the Asian person next to me said. “Putting yourself in the killer’s shoes can make you feel mentally deranged.”
“Actually, it’s alright,” Jenna said softly. “The people who did it weren’t those crazy guys from Gotham, so the mental pollution wasn’t very effective. I can still handle it.”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Jenna stood up, unusually putting on a coat, and said, “Mossen Street, sounds familiar. Does anyone know anything about that area?”
“I’ve already retrieved the information for you from Brainiac,” another colleague said. “I’ve sent it to your phone, take a look. I think the most valuable information is about the Mawson neighborhood murder case that happened more than a decade ago, the mass poisoning incident that resulted in about 50 deaths, injuries, and missing persons.”
Jenna took a deep breath, but then shook her head. More than a decade ago was too far in the past. She'd heard that Gotham was shrouded in darkness back then, and Jenna couldn't imagine how dark Gotham must have been. There must be a darker truth behind this kind of case.
She went out and drove to Mawson Street. On the way, she checked the information in Brainiac's records. Mawson Street was a district consisting of about a dozen main streets. It was named Mawson Street because it was originally the residence of the fishing tycoon Mawson family. The street where the Mawson family lived was Mawson Street.
As soon as she stepped out of the car, Jenna smelled the stench of blood in the air, along with an indescribable sense of darkness. She slowly walked through the dark alleyways, where struggling souls murmured beside filthy, rusty drains; from piles of rotting planks and debris, someone screamed in terror. Countless images layered before her eyes, blurring into a hazy, indistinct scene.
"Jenner! Jenner!!!"
Jenna was suddenly shoved. She snapped out of her daze and realized she was standing inside the police cordon. Amanda glared at her and said, "What are you doing! I called you here to solve a case, but you can't just barge into the crime scene like this..."
“Sorry, I’m a little…” Jenna shook her head, took a deep breath, and then said, “What should I do now?”
"Go and meet your new partner. He was brought in by Brainiac. Although I think he's a rich kid, he seems quite intelligent and might be helpful."
Jenna followed his gaze. He recognized the young man standing by the police line—Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne's adopted son and the main operator of the Drake Corporation.
Tim walked over, shook hands with Jenna, and said, "I've heard so much about you, Miss Jenna. You don't look too well."
“I’m fine,” Jenna shook her head. He turned to look at the crime scene and said, “Did you go in?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m staying outside,” Tim said after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t recommend you go in.”
"I'm here to solve a case, just like you."
"That's why I'm making this suggestion. You're an empath, aren't you? This thing might drive you crazy."
"A classic murder case?"
“Gotham-style.” Tim nodded.
“Well, this is going to be a tough night.” Jenna squeezed her eyes shut. She tightened her coat, straightened her hair, and said, “If I look like I’m about to lose control, wake me up quickly.”
Tim nodded and followed Jenna. The moment they stepped into the house, Jenna froze.
A male corpse sat casually on the sofa in the center. His skin was an abnormal color, as if he had been poisoned. His lower abdomen had been cut open, and his rectum, bladder, and genitals had been removed. His legs were straight, and the internal organs flowed down his legs, with blood dripping down to his toes.
His hands were clasped across his chest like a pharaoh's, his head tilted back. The body appeared somewhat stiff, and blood clots had congealed into patterns on the sofa, clearly left intentionally.
As if drawn by some unseen force, Jenna followed step by step until she reached the body. The hallucinations that had flashed before her eyes as she rushed over returned, making her realize that the killer had deliberately chosen this neighborhood.
“I love the night because it makes everyone feel lonely and afraid. In such an atmosphere, people connect more closely. But a night without daylight is repulsive. If the white isn't white enough, the black isn't black enough. I feel dull, depressed, and restless…”
Jenna softly recited, “Eternal night is a mistake, and I need to correct it. Death chose the night, not the night brought death. A dutiful night watchman should understand this better than I do. I need him to speak to the night. This is a ritual, and this is just the beginning…”
“Countless lives have been taken here in the darkness. That’s why I chose this place as my altar. I need a supplicant, to offer black as a sacrifice, to communicate with the night for me. He offered his reproductive system, which was black and filled with filth. It was a mockery, because he had once used it to fill his body with toxins…”
Jenna began to tremble. Her lips quivered as she said, “He so insanely insulted death, and that’s exactly what I wanted. His body is the best sacrifice. So I… showed it to the one who brought eternal night… I warned him…”
Jenna's body began to sway. Tim rushed over and supported her, shouting, "Stop! Jenna, stop!"
Jenna woke up with a start. She was panting heavily, covered in sweat, and trembling as she leaned against the wall, hugging herself tightly. "You're right, I shouldn't have come in."
What did you see?
Jenna wiped her face and said, "Tell me what you saw first."
"The patterns formed by those blood clots are constellations."
"Astrology?" Jenna seemed a little surprised.
"Yes, Scorpio. In astrological theory, Scorpio is usually seen as the sign that governs the reproductive system, bladder, and rectum, which corresponds to the posture of a corpse. Scorpio is also often associated with black or white. Perhaps the theme of this case is related to eternal night."
“The theme of the case is indeed related to the night,” Jenna said, pursing her lips. “But the killer was just using the corpses to mock the person who thought that plunging the earth into eternal night would bring death.”
Tim paused slightly, as the answer seemed somewhat unexpected. But he patiently inquired, "Why do you say that?"
“Because this guy is a corpse desecrator with an STD.” Jenna stared ahead with cold eyes, seemingly still caught up in empathy. “A night shift worker, in the funeral industry, who abused his position to commit necrophilia. He may have desecrated corpses on other occasions as well. That’s how he contracted the STD.”
Tim's expression twitched, clearly feeling nauseous. But the police investigation results came back quickly, exactly as Jenna had said. This guy used to be a notorious body collector for the gang at the docks.
Logically speaking, the profession of corpse collector is relatively respected. Even in the gang era, no one would deliberately cause trouble for these people. This is because disposing of corpses is crucial, and no one wants a pile of bodies lying unattended on their territory. Corpse collectors move freely between the territories of various gangs, and everyone gives them some respect.
However, this guy named Jeretta became infamous as a corpse collector precisely because of his bizarre fetishes. He enjoyed desecrating corpses, both men and women, and he especially liked the corpses of sex workers, which led him to contract sexually transmitted diseases.
Because the body collector always collects bodies at night, he's considered a night shift worker. His work efficiency is quite good, and the gang doesn't bother with the dead, so he manages to get by.
This kind of habit can't be changed overnight. After the arrival of the Brainiac era, this guy got the urge to steal corpses from the funeral home and got caught. Since he hadn't had a chance to commit the crime yet, he was only sentenced to a few months. But he couldn't resist and went again, this time getting caught red-handed, and is now in the trial stage.
The reason he wasn't detained is because the Gotham Police Department's detention facilities are being upgraded, and some criminals with minor offenses are being placed under home surveillance. Jerita is one of them.
Tim went to the police station and came back to tell Jenna, "This guy had two STDs and AIDS, so he wasn't going to live much longer. This killer is incredibly skilled and daring; he even dared to do an autopsy. He must be unafraid of professional exposure."
Jenna straightened up with difficulty and said, "In the killer's view, Jeretta was not just desecrating the corpse, but showing no respect for death."
“Then why isn’t it punitive?” Tim asked. “Why didn’t the killer want to punish someone who disrespects death?”
Jenna shook her head and said, "If that were the case, he wouldn't expose his genitals. It carries a strong sense of declaration—'Look what this guy has done. He's only alive today because death is worthless and hasn't punished him.'"
"Isn't a sexually transmitted disease a punishment? He won't live more than a few days."
What could be the cause of death?
"The AIDS-induced collapse of his immune system had caused severe inflammation in his body."
“The scene wouldn’t be like that,” Jenna said after thinking for a moment. “If it were meant to show that those who disrespect death will be punished, the scene would probably be set up around blood or show other AIDS-related characteristics. I didn’t see that. And I believe you can also see the religious connotations in the deceased’s posture. If it were a punishment, there would probably be elements like fire. Of course, this is just my speculation, and it might be as you said.”
You're saying this is a ritual?
"Yes. He's mocking. He sees death and night as opposites, and he's clearly on the side of night, mocking that death needs the power of night, and ridiculing that he won't achieve anything by doing so."
"But he still killed him, isn't that bringing death upon himself?"
“Because he was already dying.” Jenna thought for a moment and said, “Death is an inevitable end. Bringing it to come early is precisely to show his deprivation of the power of death, and it is also a kind of provocation and mockery.”
"You just mentioned sacrifices?"
Jenna nodded, then shook her head: "He wanted to offer his sacrifice to the night, but this corpse is only part of it, not the whole. There must be others."
“Where could it be? Who could it be?” Amanda came over and asked.
“I don’t know,” Jenna said. “He would mock death in all sorts of ways, but I’m not sure how. I… can’t go any deeper.”
"So we still haven't figured anything out?" Amanda said, dissatisfied. "Fine, Mr. Drake, let's just do it your way. There are twelve constellations, right?"
Tim nodded and said, "But this deceased person has nothing to do with astrology; he wasn't a Scorpio, so we can't use that to pinpoint the next victim."
"This is such a pain!" Amanda cursed through gritted teeth. "Investigating cases in this crappy city, all my knowledge of criminal investigation is completely useless. Why can't it just be a simple crime of passion or a revenge killing?"
“You should have known sooner, ma’am,” Tim said with a hint of exasperation.