"RedRuM_9791"

The first notes of her jazzy ringtone were enough to wake the detective from her slumber. Reaching out for her phone, she let her fingers glide on the soft sheets until they were met with plastic. She picked it up, not in the slightest bothered to check the caller’s name, and instantly answered. 

She already knew who it was. It was work.

  -Detective Jennings speaking.

 She suppressed a yawn while waiting for a response. She was greeted by the familiar voice of a man.

  -Hi Jennings, It’s Hutton. 

The man’s intonation slightly astounded her; something was definitely wrong. But again, no one calls to be the bearer of pleasant news at barely…. By rote, the officer looked at the clock hanging just above her closet. Shy light made its way through the hastily drawn curtains and she could somehow make out the shape of the hands. “Barely three in the morning” is what she could guess.

  -What’s the matter? 

The officer knew better than to ask if it was urgent. At such an hour and with her subordinate as interlocutor, it was undoubtedly urgent. 

She braced herself.

  -Have you checked your emails? I sent you a video.

There was a pause followed by an awkward and clearly unnatural cough on Hutton’s end. Jennings waited but nothing.

  -No I haven’t. What do you mean by “a video”? 

  -I…umm...I believe it would be better if you watched it. I found it while browsing and it already made it to the most watched videos right now on the net. I think it was posted yesterday in the afternoon.

Again, another pause. The detective found herself intrigued but she was still quite apprehensive. Hutton continued.

  -I’m sorry to disturb you so early but I think this may be a real issue….

The man sounded deeply concerned. Jennings thought that it did not suit his usual assertive, sometimes conceited, personality he would always have when facing adversity. 

  -Okay. There’s no use in continuing this conversation. I’ll call you as soon as I finish watching it. And Hutton?

  -Yes?

  -There’s no need to be sorry.

  As she hang up, Detective Laure Jennings sighted while feeling her way out of her sheets. She scratched the back of her head and got up. 

Making her way to her computer, she passed through her tiny apartment kitchen and stopped herself. She contemplated the idea of a nice cup of tea before her rational self reminded her the anxious tone of the Officer Hutton. 

“Well, tea could wait. An emergency couldn’t.”

She powered on her device. The aggressive light of the bootscreen made her wince instantly. Looking around to soothe her eyes, Jennings began to acknowledge the peacefulness of her home. She did not have much time to appreciate what she was blessed with. She blamed her work but truthfully, she was never the type to enjoy what she was given. She knew that.

She opened her emails after logging in. No one, amongst those who knew her, would be surprised to see that her inbox consisted mainly of work-related matters with occasional spams mixed in. She was quite pragmatic, as she would say.

She clicked on Hutton’s email. No subject. There was only a link. A link to the video that had her interest on edge. However, she was pragmatic; she knew it was no family vlog.

The link took her to a video titled ‘№ 1’. At that moment, she thought nothing of it. Later, she would come to regret it. She regretted many things.

Before watching it, Jennings saw that the officer was right; almost twenty million views in less than twelve hours. She thought that it was indeed a feat. 

It started to make her anxious. Far less than she should have been.

After the shock of viewing it for the first time, Jennings cursed her subordinate for not warning her beforehand. Her brain could barely wrap itself around the graphic content she had just been subject to.

She stared motionless before the screen while her mind still processed the video. It was only when her screen turned to black that the detective was brought back from the chaos of her thoughts.

She viewed it a few more times to ascertain that it was no prank or film. But, deep inside, she knew. The blood, the screams, the pleas… It was too authentic to be just an act. 

The video had no description and had been uploaded by a user named “RedRuM_9791”. The detective checked but this user had only one video made public. Her initial shock had left and a fuming Jennings was now scrolling down the comment section.

To her relief, most users were convinced it was only a short film or a prank. Perhaps, a video to sensitize people on kidnappings or just a college project. All in all, a fake. Some expressed concern on the authenticity of the events but were quickly told otherwise by the ones amused by the content.

People could be amused by anything, right?

Understandingly, her anger was aimed at the uploader but also the regulators of the site who had yet to restrict access to such a gruesome video or remove it completely. 

Then it hit her. Why would Hutton send her such a thing? Why her? Why would it be an issue for them?

Reluctantly, she decided to watch the girl’s ordeal one last time; trying her best to ignore her and concentrate on the details which could have escaped her. Despite her thirteen years in service, Laure Jennings would later admit it was hard to turn her attention away from the young girl.

There it was. Her connection to all this, Hutton’s and even, the whole town’s. In the background, ripped and faded; a cloth bearing the local university’s emblem….

  -So, what more do we have? Is there anyone who recognized her? Are there any more clues?

  -Some of Ellen’s guys were sent to the campus to see if we can get more info. For now, we received an anonymous tip that that girl may be Maddie Morrison. We tried to contact her and her family. However, no one answered.

  -Was she reported missing?

  -Don’t think so.

  -You think it might be her? Do you think she could have staged this with a couple of friends?

  -Her description matches the girl’s appearance and she attends Gibbs. Could be a coincidence though or like you said, a staged death…

The man shrugged at his own words and looked back at his monitor, leaving Jennings with more questions than answers. She knew she couldn’t press the matter though; her boss, Captain Carson, looked extremely annoyed.

The detective did not like this and frankly, no one did. In the last couple of days, the otherwise quiet town of New Grove had been under the spotlight; it was not just locally, even international channels had taken interest. The video was deleted just shy of reaching forty million views after circulating for nearly twenty-one hours. That’s when people began to suspect that it could have been displaying genuine contents.

After someone pointed out the emblem, all hell broke loose in the small town. A town, known for its annual pumpkin festivals and occasional breast-awareness marathons, was now submerged by thousands of reporters, hungry for a sensational scoop.

Jennings had seen it all; the titles of the Sunday’s newspaper had changed from “Interview with the local Football team’s coach” to “Kidnapped girl tortured and filmed; Perpetrator here?”

Fear could be seen in everyone’s expression.

 Fear of “the unknown”? Not at all. It was fear of “what is known”; it could be that strange neighbor who never greets you or your good buddy from the bar you meet every Saturday. 

Nobody could be trusted.

Jennings felt a hand on her shoulder which broke her free from her mind.

  -Are you okay, ma’am?

  -Oh, Hutton. I was about to contact you. Did you find something?

The young man looked defeated and Jennings understood. Again, he was not his usual self.

  -I’ll be going out to investigate a call about strange noises in the abandoned store on Gilbert Avenue. Probably some squatters. For now, just make your report. I’ll take Johnson with me.

Officer Johnson was the newest recruit and if you came close enough, you could smell the lingering scent of prepubescent years. Needless to say, Jennings did not think she would last long. Not on this job, at least.

However, her bubbly character and eagerness to learn were, surprisingly, refreshing for the detective. Johnson was simply too naïve for Jennings’ taste.

  -Is it here?

  -Yes. Let’s just get this over with. There are other urgent matters to tend to.

  -Yes, ma’am. Do you know where the entrance is? 

The older pointed towards an alley. She had been there before, when the store was still beaming with neon lights and bustling with life. Now, it retained nothing of its former glory. 

A “skeleton” was what came to Jennings' mind. 

A carcass.

Upon entering the building, the two officers were met with a sickening scene; one could not distinguish the floor from the piles of garbage covering it.

  -Squatters it is.

  - This is disgusting. How can someone live in this?

Johnson covered her nose in a desperate attempt to make the foul smell emanating from the decaying filth more bearable. Jennings did the same, albeit she had a handkerchief.

  -We may need to contact the owner. Neighbors complained about hearing muffled voices and someone running at small hours. They clearly do not want to be found.

  -For how long?

  -Maybe two weeks or so.

  -Dealers? 

  -Could be. A quick look around the place and out, okay?

  -Got it.

It proved to be quite tedious to move freely in a hell of rubbish. Both women were struggling. The pungent smell did not help. They could barely breathe and conducting an inspection seemed ridiculous. Fairly quickly, Jennings and Johnson turned around and escaped the building. 

Later that week, the building was sealed off due to “sanitary measures”.

However, amongst the accumulated heaps of trash, laid the mutilated body of Maddie Morrison. Her body would not be discovered for another two weeks when professional cleaners, hired by the owner of the building, would find an oddly shaped plastic bag.

By that time, “RedRuM_9791” had uploaded “№ 2”.