Don’t judge me based off the fucked up things I write about. It’s better that I write about i then actually do it lol
Sometimes when you find stories about unsolved crimes, serial killings that were never solved. Dead bodies found mutilated, people tend to talk. Make up stories to go along with these Jane Doe’s. Can you blame them? It’s like a source of entertainment.
Occasionally I like to make up my own unsolved crimes and stories to go along with my dead victims, what happened to them and what got them into those positions in the first place. I’ve watched to many horror movies that I guess I’ve developed a sick interest of torture, gore, serial killings. The why’s and the how’s of everything. Every dirty detail.
That is what I’m gonna do today. I’ll describe my latest “victim” and describe their life and what may or may not have lead up to the point in time where they were ripped to shreds and left for dead. These were the things I would write about in my short stories class in high school and freak the fuck out of my teacher. But he always agreed that I had an eye for detail. Grotesque but pretty damn good.
The time is September 1946. The location is the City of Angels. Los Angeles, California.
The autopsy stated that the victim was 5 feet 8 inches tall and roughly 126 pounds. She had ligature marks around her neck, wrists and feet. There were lacerations to her face and arms. Slashes on the inside of her thighs with huge chunks of skin missing. Her teeth had been pulled from her mouth, leaving no dental records to go off of. Her nails pulled from their beds. The woman who found her found her body as she was walking her daughter down a street. The body was torn to piece, each being found in different areas of tall grass. Her arms were found separated from her torso, her head dismembered. Her lower half was found a quarter mile down. They found what was a placenta and the fetus of her unborn child ripped out and what looked like a botched abortion. The umbilical cord was strung up around one of her legs.
With each new finding about her body, the police began to noticed a pattern. These were the same things they found a year ago. It was another open case. No traces of DNA from another person. Nothing under the finger nails. The bodies seemed to be drained of blood and washed before they were staged in the grass along the sidewalk. Always some finding one body part before anything else. Always girls that could not be identified.
Three months later they found another one. And then another one three months after that. The murderer was getting more excited by all the media that was revolving around the open cases.
But they all had something in common. They were pregnant.
So what lead to this insane abundance of dead bodies, decaying along the city streets? It seemed that with the beauty of these girls, they were possibly aspiring young actresses or possibly prostitutes. But then they got pregnant. The only thing that ruined a career for those types more was a possible baby on the way. In that day and age abortions were hard to come by. But you could find some that would do them for a hefty fee. That someone had been twisted somehow. Taking these young girls under his or her wing and ending their body.
In the end they still got their fame, just not the fortune.