THE TRIAL IN VEGAS
SUPER BLOOD MOON
I follow George through the set of double doors leading to the garden. Ray and Ana stand near a row of rose bushes, the entire area lit by the glow of the blood moon. My white dress flutters in the light breeze while we wait for Saul to bring the prisoner from the kennels. His hulking shadow passes over the fountain and I know the moment draws closer. We will have a trial in Vegas.
Saul leads the man, hooded and shackled into the clearing and binds him with rope to a thick wooden pole. I approach him as George, Ana, and Ray sit on the stone steps of the fountain. Beside the pole is a table and on it my special knife rests next to a stack of documents. Taking the knife into my hand, I remove the hood from the prisoner.
A slim blonde man wearing glasses blinks at me, duct tape covering his mouth. I doubt he understands the situation, but I remain silent, studying him for a span of time stretching into minutes. Why not make him sweat before I tell him the bad news? Let his imagination conjure the worst of his fears. I yank the duct tape off in a swift motion and smile when the man yelps with pain.
"Do you know why you are on trial tonight?" I ask.
His eyes move from me to the watchers by the fountain and back again. "The man that broke into my apartment told me it was because I am part of Gamer Gate."
"You harass and stalk feminist women online. Women like me. Tonight you will answer for your crimes."
"Crimes? You're such a victim that you consider someone disagreeing with you on the internet a crime? Fucking feminists."
I laugh and grab a paper from the table. "When I saw your tweets online, I knew there was more to it than simple harassment. I don't kill people for opinions, only rape. Saul hacked your computer and ran a background check on you. You have something of a record. Don't you, Paul?"
"No..." he begins to stammer, but I interrupt.
"Save it. You pleaded guilty to sexual assault freshman year of college. Rich papa saw to it that you didn't catch a more serious charge. But you raped that girl. Don't bother with denials, Saul found proof on your hard-drive. You were stupid enough to video tape the party. Spoiled rich boy indeed. Tsk, tsk."
The man opens his mouth to respond, but I do not let him speak and place the duct tape over his lips.
"I heard enough of your hate online. I've heard more than enough from all you Gamer Gate people harassing me. When I see men stalk and harass women online, I know that most of the time it's not just online. Looking into a few hundred of the screen names associated with Gamer Gate, many have been convicted of sexual assault, harassment, and stalking women. You're no lone wolf exception. It's very common."
George approaches me, hands behind his back waiting for my orders. I nod to him and he removes a mobile phone from a suit pocket and taps a button to start the music playlist. One of my favorite songs plays, Total Eclipse of the Heart.
"I'll tell you this, Paul. Gamer Gate will soon be over, because the ones stalking and harassing will ruin the movement, but for you, it will be tonight because you met the Butcher of Vegas."
Pulling the tape away enough for him to speak, I say, "I don't suppose you have heard of me."
"The what of Vegas?" he asks and once again I pull the duct tape over his lips.
"The Butcher of Vegas and I don't suffer rapists stalking me," I say, placing the knife against his throat. I begin singing with the song, watching his eyes pleading with me for mercy. "Every now and then I fall apart...and kill people."
Dragging the blade deep into his neck, I watch the life ebb from his eyes while streams of blood cover my white dress. Looking up at the blood red moon, I smile.
"Bring me the next rapist, Saul."
Saul leads the man, hooded and shackled into the clearing and binds him with rope to a thick wooden pole. I approach him as George, Ana, and Ray sit on the stone steps of the fountain. Beside the pole is a table and on it my special knife rests next to a stack of documents. Taking the knife into my hand, I remove the hood from the prisoner.
A slim blonde man wearing glasses blinks at me, duct tape covering his mouth. I doubt he understands the situation, but I remain silent, studying him for a span of time stretching into minutes. Why not make him sweat before I tell him the bad news? Let his imagination conjure the worst of his fears. I yank the duct tape off in a swift motion and smile when the man yelps with pain.
"Do you know why you are on trial tonight?" I ask.
His eyes move from me to the watchers by the fountain and back again. "The man that broke into my apartment told me it was because I am part of Gamer Gate."
"You harass and stalk feminist women online. Women like me. Tonight you will answer for your crimes."
"Crimes? You're such a victim that you consider someone disagreeing with you on the internet a crime? Fucking feminists."
I laugh and grab a paper from the table. "When I saw your tweets online, I knew there was more to it than simple harassment. I don't kill people for opinions, only rape. Saul hacked your computer and ran a background check on you. You have something of a record. Don't you, Paul?"
"No..." he begins to stammer, but I interrupt.
"Save it. You pleaded guilty to sexual assault freshman year of college. Rich papa saw to it that you didn't catch a more serious charge. But you raped that girl. Don't bother with denials, Saul found proof on your hard-drive. You were stupid enough to video tape the party. Spoiled rich boy indeed. Tsk, tsk."
The man opens his mouth to respond, but I do not let him speak and place the duct tape over his lips.
"I heard enough of your hate online. I've heard more than enough from all you Gamer Gate people harassing me. When I see men stalk and harass women online, I know that most of the time it's not just online. Looking into a few hundred of the screen names associated with Gamer Gate, many have been convicted of sexual assault, harassment, and stalking women. You're no lone wolf exception. It's very common."
George approaches me, hands behind his back waiting for my orders. I nod to him and he removes a mobile phone from a suit pocket and taps a button to start the music playlist. One of my favorite songs plays, Total Eclipse of the Heart.
"I'll tell you this, Paul. Gamer Gate will soon be over, because the ones stalking and harassing will ruin the movement, but for you, it will be tonight because you met the Butcher of Vegas."
Pulling the tape away enough for him to speak, I say, "I don't suppose you have heard of me."
"The what of Vegas?" he asks and once again I pull the duct tape over his lips.
"The Butcher of Vegas and I don't suffer rapists stalking me," I say, placing the knife against his throat. I begin singing with the song, watching his eyes pleading with me for mercy. "Every now and then I fall apart...and kill people."
Dragging the blade deep into his neck, I watch the life ebb from his eyes while streams of blood cover my white dress. Looking up at the blood red moon, I smile.
"Bring me the next rapist, Saul."
