“How bad is it?” Detective Lauren Roberts asks, pulling a pair of latex gloves onto her hands.
“It’s bad” the deputy replies, with a grimace. “The vic’s name is Cheryl Young. Thirty-three, single, lives alone. Preliminary cause of death is blunt force trauma.”
Roberts peeks her head into the room, surveying the gruesome scene. On the floor next to the body is what looks like some kind of gold trophy, with a dark red stain visible on the bottom of its wooden base.
She nods towards it. “Murder weapon?”
Deputy Adams nods, removing his hat. “That’s what it looks like. We’re waiting on a forensics team from the city to confirm”
The detective shakes her head. “This is just like the other two…”
Adams pinches the bridge of his nose with in a pained expression. “I know. Female victim, no signs of struggle or forced entry. It’s like she invited her killer inside willingly…”
Roberts backs off from the room, wanting to let the crime scene technicians do their work before she begins hers.
“Definitely the same MO” she states. “And if that’s true, Silver Valley has it’s first serial killer since…when?”
The officer rubs his scraggly beard. “Oh, eighty-two, I’d say.”
Roberts sighs. “And with just a week until Halloween. The press is going to have a field day” she says. “Did the neighbours see anything?”
“Nothing” Adams replies. “We’re still canvassing, of course, but no leads yet.”
“Damn” Roberts mutters. “Security system? Anything?”
He shakes his head. “This ain’t the city, detective. People are pretty trusting out in these parts. Hell, my parents don’t even lock their front door half the time.”
Roberts sighs. “Well, it’ll be another what, two hours before the forensics guys get here? I’m going to head back to the station to take another look through the other two case files. Maybe something will shake loose.”
The deputy nods. “Sounds good. I’ll keep you posted.”
Later, with a fresh cup of coffee in her hand, Lauren sits down at her desk in front of her computer.
She clicks the mouse, scrolling through the evidence from the last two murder files.
“This kind of shit just doesn’t happen here…” she whispers to herself.
Roberts’s eyes scan through crime scene photos and witness statements, trying to find anything that will help piece the puzzle together.
Her inbox chimes, and she sees that one of the responding officers to the Young household has begun uploading statements. Not expecting to learn much, she begins to read through them, but her eyes stop on one particular line.
…heard car driving by around 16:30. Looked out window and saw sedan, dark green or maybe black. Dented side panel. Young female driver, maybe blonde (?)
“Dark sedan” Roberts whispers to herself. “With a dent…”
She clicks and opens up a separate case file, this one from the Nelson murder, the first in the recent string of killings. On the screen in front of her is a still image taken from a traffic camera outside the poor woman’s building, showing the four-way crossroads in the middle of town. It was taken just before dusk, and the only vehicle visible on the road is a dark-green sedan.
“Well, look at that” Lauren mutters.
She opens up another set of images, these ones from the Collins file taken one week ago. There, in a mercifully clear shot taken from a neighbour’s doorbell camera, is the same vehicle. Roberts zooms in on both pictures, noting the same exact dent in the rear, passenger-side door.
“I knew it” she says, lightly hitting her desk.
She shifts the view, trying to get a look at the driver. In the image from the traffic cam, it appears to be a brunette woman about her age, wearing a white tank-top and sunglasses. The picture from the doorbell camera is less useful, but she can definitely make out a side-view of curly grey hair, indicating the driver might be an older woman.
“Three different drivers…?” She thinks to herself. Overcome with the feeling like she’s onto something, she pulls up what limited traffic camera footage she has access to, trying to track the vehicle.
After a few minutes, she finds another image taken three blocks from the Nelson residence, on the same night of her murder. Bright lights from a gas station illuminate the road, making the green sedan’s license plate clearly visible.
“Got you” Roberts murmurs, punching the plate number into the database. The result is quickly displayed on her screen:
Owner: Helen Murphy
DOB: 11/4/1994
Her eyes scan the brief bio, and then widen when she sees the woman’s criminal history.
Aggravated assault
Assault with a deadly weapon
Attempted murder
…
Defendant convicted & mandated to county psychiatric facility for supervised treatment, 4/19/2012
Detective Roberts feels her heart leap into her chest when she reads the next line:
Released, 8/22/2029
“Six weeks before the first murder…” she realizes. Pulling up Helen Murphy’s last known address, she sees that it lies just on the outskirts of town.
She stands up from her desk and puts on her suit coat, before grabbing her keys.
“Time to go pay Ms. Murphy a little visit…”
Twenty minutes later, she’s pulling her police vehicle alongside the curb outside Helen Murphy’s residence. Glancing out her passenger window, she sees a somewhat dilapidated, single-story house in need of some serious upkeep.
“Charming…” she mutters, getting out of the car.
Roberts approaches the garage, and uses her flashlight to take a look inside the dusty window. She sweeps the light back and forth, and when it lands on a dark-green sedan with a dented side panel, she feels her heart rate increase.
She clicks off her light, and walks to the front door. Her hand reaches out to knock, but she sees that the door is cracked open.
“Is anybody home? Silver Valley Sheriff’s Department!” she announces.
The detective nudges the door open with her shoulder, and draws her service weapon from its holster.
“Helen Murphy?” She calls out, stepping inside the home. “My name is Detective Roberts, and I have some questions for you!”
Not getting a reply, she proceeds deeper into the house. She can make out a light coming from a room down the hall, and slowly makes her way towards it, with her pistol extended in front of her.
Roberts peeks inside, and sees that it’s some kind of changing room, with racks of clothing, a vanity table, various mirrors, and several large wardrobes. On the dresser, she can see what looks the side of a blonde wig perched on a stand.
Of course, she thinks. Helen changed her appearance to avoid detection!
She enters the room, clearing it quickly. Finding no one inside, her eyes return to the dresser, and she lets out a startled gasp.
What she had assumed was just a wig, is actually what looks like a girl’s hollow, severed head. Its pretty face stares back at her with blank eyes, and it appears to be far, far more lifelike than any kind of mask she’d ever seen before.
“What the fuck…” she whispers. Her hand reaches out to touch the empty face, but then recoils sharply when it feels utterly indistinguishable from real human skin.
She backs away from the disturbing object, bumping into one of the large wooden wardrobes. She spins around as the door is jarred open, and has to stifle a scream with her free hand when she sees what’s inside.
The entire, naked body of a mature brunette woman hangs limply in front of her. Like the mask on the dresser, it appears completely deflated, with partially flattened limbs and a sagging chest. Its arms and legs extend all the way into hands and feet, and she can even see an intricate replica of the female anatomy nestled between its flimsy thighs.
“This is some kind of…fucking…full-body disguise?” Roberts chokes, not wanting to spend another minute inside this freak show of a room.
Roberts backs away again, but in her state of shock, she didn’t hear a set of footsteps creeping up behind her.
She feels a sharp blow to the side of her head, and then her vision goes black.
Some time later, Lauren awakens to find herself tied to a chair in the middle of the room. She struggles against her bonds, but quickly realizes her efforts are futile.
“Wakey, wakey, detective!” A female voice taunts from behind her.
A woman walks around her, and Lauren groans when she recognizes Helen Murphy from the photograph in her criminal record.
“Oh, I see you know who I am!” Helen chirps, clasping her hands excitedly. “How lovely…”
Squinting to regain her eyesight, and fighting against the pounding in her temples, the bound detective tries to take in more of her desperate situation.
Helen is skinny - on the verge of frail - and her dirty blonde hair appears to be wrapped up underneath some kind of skin-tight covering.
As if reading her mind, Helen continues in a creepy, singsong voice “I’m sure you have a lot of questions. Don’t worry, they’ll be answered all in good time!” She looks down at her captive with a menacing smile. “I really must commend you for finding me. None of those other idiot men in the police department were going to come close, that’s for sure…”
Lauren attempts to speak, but her words are muffled by the tape covering her mouth.
Helen just laughs, and gestures around the room. “I see you found my little lair” she jokes. She then walks over to her dresser, and picks up the empty face of the blonde girl. Stroking its pale cheek, she adds “I named this one Lizzie. Isn’t she pretty? I even came up with a backstory for her. University student, straight-A’s, such a do-gooder…”
Unable to actually reply, the detective can only watch as Helen tugs the fleshy mask off of its stand by its floppy neck. Then, she stretches it open, and turns her back to Lauren as she ducks her head down into it.
After some tugging and pulling, the bouncy blonde hair settles around Helen’s shoulders, and she turns back to her captive after tucking the flap into her shirt.
Lauren stiffens when she sees a completely different head sitting atop Helen’s body. Her face is now youthful and gorgeous, with a smattering of cute freckles.
“Hi there!” The masked murderer bubbles, in a much more melodious voice. “It’s, like, so nice to meet you. If only the circumstances were a teensy bit better…”
The phony girl giggles and scrunches her nose. “You probably guessed that I’m the one who gave Cheryl her little accident. Oopsie…”
Then, her demeanour changes, and Lizzie suddenly appears frightened and anxious. “Um, I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am, but is it okay if I come inside? I’m lost, and I don’t know how I’m going to get home!”
Her fearful look instantly changes back into an evil sneer. “Cheryl. Dumb whore” she snarls. “That’s what she gets for stealing my boyfriend. How fitting that her stupid cheerleading trophy was right there on the mantle…”
That’s what this has been about? Lauren thinks. Some fucking juvenile grudges?
Helen reaches into her shirt and pulls out the skin-coloured flap. Roughly, she tugs at the fake flesh, and Lizzie’s face stretches horribly as the mask snaps off with a loud SQUELCH.
Smiling, the revealed woman pulls the mask back down onto its stand and places it back on her dresser, but its pretty features remain somewhat scrunched together.
“And don’t get me started on that bitch, Sarah Collins” Helen jeers. “She made my life a living hell every single day of school.”
She opens up the other door in her wardrobe, and another hollow face comes into view. This one is of an elderly woman, with wrinkled skin and short, curly grey hair. Like before, she pulls the mask off of its stand and tugs it down over her smooth-capped head.
The fake woman works her mouth around and prods at her face, until it comes to life in front of the appalled detective.
She really does look just like someone’s fucking grandma, Lauren marvels.
The newly disguised Helen glances around furtively, assuming another persona. “I…I must have gotten turned around after leaving the grocery store” she quavers, in an uncertain, husky tone. “Could I trouble you to use your phone? My daughter’s number is in my purse somewhere…”
Then she bursts out into a fit of laughter, and doesn’t stop even when her wilted lips snap free, as the mask is hastily yanked off of her head. She doesn’t bother with the stand this time, and tosses the discarded face onto the floor, where it lands in a crumpled heap.
“And then there was pretty Natalie Nelson” Helen snickers. “Do you know she convinced everyone to call me Samara, after that girl in The Ring? That nasty bitch…”
She wasn’t too far off with that nickname, Lauren thinks to herself, desperately trying to think of a way out of her situation.
“Natalie got to meet my favourite one of all” the murderer continues, lifting the floppy woman-suit off of its hanger. “Say hello to Kathy…”
She turns the ghastly husk around and sticks her head up inside some kind of open seam on its back. Its face jiggles and scrunches roughly as she slowly fills up its empty void.
In just moments, the fraud is running her tongue over her full, red lips, and smoothing out her wavy brown hair. While “she” appears like a normal, good-looking woman from the neck up, the rest of her body remains disturbingly hollow, hanging limply from her neck. Roberts fights the urge to look away from Kathy’s naked chest and exposed groin, telling herself that an imitation woman doesn’t need modesty.
Helen opens and closes her jaw, then clears her throat and speaks in yet another voice. This one sounding gentle, yet distressed.
“I am so sorry to knock on your door at this hour, but my car won’t start! My phone just died, and my kids are waiting for me to pick them up…” the phony Kathy trembles. “Oh, yours is in the kitchen? Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver!”
Her face then breaks into a now-familiar sneer. “And then I grabbed a shiny knife from her drawer and…stab, stab, stab!”
The murderer accentuates the vile act by grabbing one of her suit’s flimsy hands and jabbing it forward three times. Then, she reaches her arms around the back of her neck and stretches Kathy’s face off with a loud, sucking sound. She releases the suit and it falls to the floor next to the old woman mask, landing in a crumpled, fleshy heap of fake skin and hair.
Lauren shudders when she imagines Natalie Nelson unwittingly inviting her killer inside, not realizing it was really Helen wearing this…thing.
“Now, you’re probably wondering how I got such lovely disguises” Helen says, twirling Lizzie’s blonde hair. “Well, I was in that awful hospital for so long, and met some interesting people there. One of them used to do some very secret work for the government and, like me, she was eventually cast aside and locked up like some lunatic.”
Lunatic is fucking right, Lauren thinks, with narrowed eyes.
“She found these to be so useful in her line of work” Helen continues, nudging the deflated Kathy-suit with her foot. “And she had plenty of time to teach me how to use her old equipment. Speaking of which…”
She walks over to another wardrobe, and reaches for the door. The detective was thus far too engrossed in her captor’s macabre performances to notice the steady humming coming from within the cabinet.
“You were out for so long, it gave me time to make something very special…” Helen chirps.
Smiling, she opens the door, and Lauren’s eyes widen in fear when she sees what’s inside.
A perfect, blank copy of her own face sits inside some kind of clear chamber, being sprayed by several small nozzles. There is a loud beeping sound, and then the chamber door opens with a hiss.
“Oh, perfect timing!” Helen chirps, reaching inside and pulling out the freshly completed mask. She sets it on her dresser, making sure to face it towards her captive. “What do you think?”
Lauren struggles against her bonds, yelling muffled threats to the smirking villain.
“Oh, I know what you mean” Helen taunts. “You’re not bald. Thankfully, I even had time to work on that…”
From a shelf above the chamber, she pulls out a medium-length, reddish-brown wig. Its hair is parted in the middle, and loosely curled in an impeccable imitation of Lauren’s everyday style.
“I haven’t become a real person before” Helen casually hums. “How exciting…”
She smears some clear liquid onto the mask’s bare scalp, and then carefully positions the wig on top of it. She then adds a pair of delicate, arched eyebrows above the vacant sockets and, in just moments, the illusion is complete.
Lauren feels her stomach drop when Helen moves out of the way, and she sees the finished replica of her likeness. Every intimate freckle and blemish are accurately reproduced on the fake flesh, and its almost as if the empty husk is just asking to be worn.
The killer lifts her creation and approaches her captive, smiling from ear to ear.
“I should really thank you for finding me” she gibes, stroking the mask’s hair. “I have several more visits to make, and who is more trustworthy than your friendly local detective?”
She tosses her head back and lets out a loud, maniacal laugh while Lauren thrashes against her restraints and the screen fades to black.
NEXT TIME ON SILVER VALLEY CRIME: Will Detective Roberts escape her captor and unmask HERSELF as the killer? Find out on the SEASON FINALE, The Halloween Murders Part Two…
Theo presses the back button on the remote to return to the show’s main page.
“Wow, that was a wild episode! But seriously, why do those detective types always have to go check out a lead alone?” He wonders, with a short laugh. “What did you think of it, babe?” He asks, turning to his girlfriend Megan.
Oddly, Megan’s face is flushed, and she appears to be firmly biting her lower lip.
“Babe?” Theo repeats, waving his hand in front of her face.
That appears to snap her out of it, and she turns to him with a mildly embarrassed smile.
“Oh, yeah, that was a good one!” She replies, nodding her head. “Where…where did you say you heard of this show, again?”
Her boyfriend shrugs. “It just came up in my recommended list. I’m not sure how their algorithm works. But it’s odd, this one isn’t very similar to the other stuff I watch…”
Megan nods. “Y-yeah, totally.” She stands up from the couch and says “I have to use the bathroom. Be right back!”
“Okay!” Theo chirps, already searching for something else to watch.
She makes her way down the short hall into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. She places her palms on the counter top, and leans over the sink.
“Fuck…” Megan whispers, pressing her thighs together. “How have I never seen that one before…?”
She thinks back to the sight of Helen holding up the mask of the pretty blonde girl, and bites her lip in arousal.
And that fucking Kathy suit, she remembers, visualizing its gaping, lifelike face and floppy limbs.
Her hand drifts down to her waistband, but she stops herself.
“Get it together, Megan” she mutters. “You can download the video later and…watch it by yourself.”
She takes several deep breaths, then washes her hands and heads back to her boyfriend. But she finds the living room empty, and calls out to him.
“Babe?”
“I’m in here!” She hears him reply, his voice coming from the bedroom.
She walks back down the hall, and finds him standing next to his bed with a knowing grin. His hands are held behind his back, causing her to raise an eyebrow.
“What’s up?” She asks.
“Well…” he begins. “I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed a bit…affected by that show.”
Megan feels herself blush. “O-oh…um…it was just exciting” she replies, not sounding convincing, even to herself.
“It’s okay, babe” Theo assures her. “Don’t be mad, but…you left your laptop open a few weeks ago, and I saw what you were looking at.”
Her stomach drops. Fuck…I was going to show him eventually, but this is so embarrassing. What did he see, my DeviantArt page? The Female Mask Archive? Shit!
“Uh…look, I can explain…” she falters.
Theo shakes his head. “Babe, seriously, it’s okay. Actually…I thought it was pretty hot.”
Her eyes widen hopefully. “Really? You did?”
He nods. “Uh-huh. To be honest, I picked that obscure show for a reason…”
Oh, shit! Now it makes more sense, Megan thinks.
“In fact, I looked into it, and those disguises weren’t CGI. They were made by an actual special effects company. And they didn’t just make them for the show…”
He pulls an object from behind his back, and Megan gasps when she sees what it is.
The pale, hollow face of Lizzie gazes at her blankly, its white foam support visible through her vacant eyes. Her wavy blonde hair, with its brown roots and highlights, hangs down against Theo’s outstretched arms. She appears just as perfectly lifelike as she did in the show and, even from a distance, Megan can make out the intricate details of her freckled face and plump, pink lips.
“Y-you really…” Megan whispers, as her face reddens with excitement. She looks up at her boyfriend with wide eyes. “How expensive was…?”
He grins back at her. “Don’t worry about that, babe. You’re worth it. I hope I picked the right one.”
Nodding quietly, she looks back down at the pretty, empty face in wonder. Playfully, Theo shakes it side-to-side, and Lizzie’s soft cheeks quiver enticingly as her lips pucker together.
“Want to try her on?” He asks with a smile, holding the mask out towards her.
Speechless, she reaches out and accepts it with wide, disbelieving eyes. She uses one hand to grasp the back of its neck, while the other explores the remarkably realistic skin. Megan’s fingertips trace around the mask’s eyes, grazing its dark brown eyebrows. And when she pokes its nose, it flattens beneath her touch.
“Oh my gosh…” she murmurs, gently brushing the flaxen hair out of Lizzie’s face. To her, if feels just like all of those stories she’d saved, and read, and re-read, and read again.
Theo leans over and kisses her cheek, trapping the mask in between them. Its face squishes with the pressure and its lips form a pout, but Lizzie’s eyes remain gazing up at her impassively.
“So, what are you waiting for?” he grins, pulling a tan skull-cap from his pocket.
A minute later, she’s sitting on his bed next to the mask, with her hair tucked up underneath the cap. He hands her a small tube and says “This stuff came with it. I guess you need to use some adhesive for it to work properly.”
With her heart pounding, she rolls the cool liquid over her entire face, covering every bit of her skin - even her lips. Then, with her hands practically trembling, she lifts the tapered flap and eases the mask off its stand, dropping the fleshy bundle into her lap. Turning it over, she opens the neck and peeks inside, marvelling at the smooth, pinkish interior. Lizzie’s pretty features appear inverted, waiting to accept her, as her hair spills across Megan’s lap.
With Theo watching, she takes a deep breath, then lifts the mask up and over her head. She pulls it down, and feels the stretchy material brushing over her skin. Her vision is blocked as the the mask encases her, and she can sense the warmth of her breath as she exhales through her nose. The process seems agonizingly slow, but little by little, Lizzie’s face settles down on top of her own.
Finally, with the occasional helpful pinch and tug from Theo, her nose and chin snap into place. She shivers when she feels a foreign pair of lips overlap hers, sliding into her eager mouth.
Megan looks up at her boyfriend as the mask’s eye sockets tightly hug around hers, and she sees a look of total awe on his face.
“Did it…does it look…” she whispers, finding that her new mouth moves and feels completely natural.
He just nods and, after helping her tuck the mask’s neck flap into her shirt, he moves aside so she can see herself in the mirror behind him.
Megan gasps when she sees the lovely, blonde Lizzie gawking back at her. She turns her head side-to-side, scrunches her nose, and pouts her full, pink lips. The other girl in the reflection copies her every motion exactly.
“I’m her…” she moans, stroking her pale, freckled cheek. The contours of her new face feel so different, but the sensation is only slightly dulled by the thin material of the mask.
“Wow” Theo whispers. “I didn’t think…I mean, it looked real, but…”
Lizzie looks up at him, and it’s so strange to see his girlfriend’s smile on someone else’s face. She stands up from the bed and wraps her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
“Thank you” she purrs, pulling back so he can look into her eyes.
Then, she leans forward and pushes her lips to his. For a brief, silly moment - he fights the urge to pull away from this strange, brazen girl who’s suddenly kissing him.
She lets out a soft moan, savouring the feel of her new face. After a long moment, she breaks the kiss with a heavy gasp, then gazes up at Theo lustfully.
The new Lizzie tucks a soft, wavy strand of hair back behind her ear, then clears her throat carefully. Raising her voice just a few octaves, she asks, “So, what should we do now?”
She bites her lower lip playfully and, a half-second later, their lips are locked together again, and she’s dragging him back onto the bed.