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she wasn't comfortable at home, she was tied up somewhere dark, another abandoned site. Martin played the video again and paused it.

"Did we do this? Is it our fault?" Piper looked on the verge of tears.

Martin placed an arm around her. "You know he would have done this anyway. He'd already done it twice before." Piper gave him a weak smile. "What the hell is a femoid roastie?"

Aadesh looked up the term now he was connected to the Wi-Fi. "Um, you probably don't want to know."

"Tell us." Kristen's voice rose an octave.

"Apparently a femoid is a dehumanizing term that incels use to describe women."

"What the hell is an incel? Is anyone speaking English here?" Kristen looked at him in confusion.

"Involuntary celibate. Basically, guys who can't get laid."

"Then what's a roastie?"

Aadesh coughed awkwardly as he considered a delicate way of putting it. "They believe that the more sex a woman has, the more...like...roast beef their labia is." He knew from the burning feeling in his cheeks he was blushing profusely.

"Wow. I wonder why they don't get laid when they act like that."

"Give 'em a break. They've probably never seen one before, how are they supposed to know?" Aadesh meant it as a joke, but no one was laughing.

"Does the username mean anything?" Kristen asked.

"Black pill. I think it's something to do with the Matrix, right? They think they're enlightened or something."

Martin was also doing research with his cell phone screen projected on the television.

Truthspeaker: It finally happened. I've gone my own way but continued to gymcel and it happened. This shallow Becky actually asked me out. I got to reject her, and it felt amazing. I'm taking the power back. My simp of a friend was like, why did you say no? He wouldn't get it. He's cucked big time. Probably going to cut him off. We can't go anywhere without his femoid coming along. Pathetic.

"I am scared to ask, but what is a Becky?" Piper asked.

Aadesh scrolled through a list of incel language. "Here we go. A Becky is your average girl, not stunning, but can still... Oh god, I can't even read this with a straight face."

"What," Kristen asked.

"Ride the cock carousel. Where do they come up with these phrases?"

Kristen didn't look impressed. "So, what is a simp? I've heard it before but have no idea."

"Sorry but is this relevant?" Martin interrupted. "He doesn't exclusively kill women, and there was no sexual element to Bryony Finch's murder. There must be more to it. We need to find this girl. He has her now."

"He keeps sending us messages. Surely he's trying to tell us something. I might message the person who sold that clock again, try to reason with her. She has to understand, this is life and death."

Chapter

Twenty Six

 

                 CHICAGO

Kristen shuddered as they approached the gray structure. It was a depressing place anyway but knowing what had happened there made it so much worse. The outside of the building was covered in graffiti and patches of moss and in the misty rain, looked like something from a horror film.

She contemplated what she would do if this was where the new victim had been taken. Seeing the body of her father was too much for her and she would never be ready to see another. Surely, he wouldn't be stupid enough to take her to the same place.

Unfortunately, the new video was too dark, and the view too restricted to work out where she might have been taken. Again, she called the cops, sent them the video, and they said they would get back to her. Weathered pieces of police tape lay on the floor, blowing in the wind.

The doors were locked, but there were plenty of entry points where part of the building had been demolished. The minute she stepped inside, she held her breath in case the stench of what had happened here still lingered. In the dark, she could feel it, fear and pain, like it hung around after the fact, a persistent dark energy sucking the life from the surrounding space.

Things she had read on the incel forum swirled around in her head. Women are manipulative, selfish, annoying, picky. We should abolish sperm banks so single woman have to beg for it. lazy, gold-diggers, controlling, baby-factories, whores. Men should be assigned women whether they agree to it or not. Thirteen-year-olds are the most desirable as they will worship you, won't know what they're doing, won't be used-up. That kind of hate, surely, that could fuel someone to do something like what was inflicted on Bryony Finch.

Her eyes scoured every inch of the floor, and even the walls. As they got closer to the exact spot the video was taken, the tension grew. She hadn't even seen the video, just a screenshot. No matter how much she wanted to find a clue, she just couldn't convince herself to watch either of them. The place was pretty much empty except for rubble, weeds, cigarette butts, and some discarded sections of piping.

"Did you hear that?" Aadesh froze, and the group followed suit. Rustling, it was unmistakable.

"Should we leave? What if it's him?" Piper started backing away from the source of the noise.

"No way. If that's him, there is no way I am letting him get away. Someone should film this. We need a record." Kristen crept towards the noise, hunched over. Martin started filming on his cell and followed her closely along with Aadesh and Piper. As they passed a large section of wall, they could see what looked like a sleeping bag and a mattress.

"I think it's just a homeless guy. I think we should go," Kristen whispered.

"Take this." Martin passed Kristen his cell phone and approached the mass in the corner. He considered, briefly, the possibility that it

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