Free My Heart Belongs To You: A Psycho Thriller by Michael A. Walton

form that could be stimulat ed by the liquid. It could keep a heart beating for up to thirty minutes when removed from the chest cavity.  Adam had seen it first hand on the first occasion six years ago . Following that first experience , he never stayed to watch as Cupid wielded his scalpels , preferring to wait some distance away until the screaming stopped. He would never voice his thoughts , but he knew his employer was insane. To do what he did , one would have to be, but Adam was loyal . He owed him his life and so he would close his ears, close his mind and shut out the screams, the horror. He owed the couples nothing , but he owed Cupid everything , and so Tom and Karen’s journey to the afterlife could not be avoided. As far as Adam was concerned, it was carved in stone and shortly , very shortly; it would be written in blood.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Thirteen
     
    13 Febru ary - 12 : 02
    ( L ife r emaining 30 hrs 58 mins)
     
    ‘All we need now is some remarkable information.’
     
    ‘What is she doing?’ whispered Turner .
    Jane followed his gaze to where Stephanie was shuffling back and forth in front of the large white board wall, the wall that just hours before was a blank canvas , but now had become a sinister portrait, a collage of notations and photos reflecting a six-year reign of terror of the serial killer Cupid.  The photos ran from left to right, from 2004 through to 2009 . Each set began with an A4 snap of each couple, photos that reflected normal life prior to being snatched by Cupid.  Some were smiling, some were looking serene, some looked like passport shots , but all had that common theme, normality , life .  The final shots of each were far from normal . The final shots were the ones that chilled the blood, transporting you into the dark world occupied by Cupid.  These photos linked the couples, bound them together into a club where the required membership was simply love. In each, the couples were shown naked, strapped to a large flat surface side by side, hands held together for their final journey into oblivion , thanks to the tortured twi sted mind of a maniac.
    ‘I´m not sure , ’ frowned Jane, ‘but… my instincts tell me that we should give her a moment or two without interruption.’
     
    Stephanie stopped in front of each group of photos , forcing herself to look up at each year; each set that culminated in the final shot of innocent couples frozen in macabre unity, their lives extinguished at the perverse whim of a monster.
    Donald Myers joined Jane and Turner at the refreshment table , ‘ Rude to whisper , guys . Care to share?’
    ‘It’s John’s sister , ’ responded Turner , nodding his head in the direction of Stephanie . ‘Jane thinks she might be on to something . ’
    Myers ’s narrowed gaze took in the tall slim woman as she moved along the whiteboard , her head flicking up to take in the shots , and then quickly reverting to her study of the floor.  ‘She’s a remarkable woman.  John first introduced her to me around three years ago . I remember that he brought her to my office one day after I called him in on an urgent matter of national security.  He was giving Stephanie a day out treat for her birthday when I got through to him.  At the end of a lengthy meeting, I gave them a lift back to Stephanie’s apartment.  Six months later, I met Stephanie and John again.  During my conversation with John , Stephanie suddenly came up with the mileage of my car , down to the nearest tenth of a mile, from six months previously.  Now I have no way of knowing if she was right , but… if I had written down that mileage on that day six months prior, I suspect it would have matched exactly the number she gave me.’
    ‘You can’t be certain of that ,’ responded Turner , his s c epticism clear.
    ‘I first met her about a year ago , ’ joined in Jane, ‘ s ince then , I’ve seen her at least twice a month here at the office.  She can tell