The Third Date

Every year millions of people head into the wilderness searching for peace, beauty, and adventure. But hidden in those same scenic landscapes are stories of violence, survival, and lives cut short. I'm Dilya DeAmbra, and on my podcast, Park Predators, I uncover the true crimes that happened in the most amazing places on Earth. Listen to Park Predators wherever you get your podcasts. The End The End Hi, listeners. I have a story I want to tell you. There was this doctor over at St. Agri's who would kill his patients. Oh, yes, it was, Magnus. Aren't you afraid the light take away getting? I'm sorry, I didn't listen to you. That's a trend, I'm a moron. I snapped. Totally lost it. He had no idea what was on those tapes. It was like a song. All he had the outcast. So gather around, gather around, and listen. Close. I stared into the bathroom mirror at my own despirited reflection. I under the pins that held my hair up and slipped them into the pockets of my skirt. Jack had invited me over to his house for a third date, and I still wasn't sure how I felt about him. Granted, he'd been nothing but pleasant, funny, and charming so far a perfect gentleman. All the same, I couldn't help but thinking that something seemed off. He was almost too good to be true. A tall, dark-haired prince who had stepped straight out of the pages of a fairy tale. When he asked me to come to his house, I said yes. Unlike me, I know, but I didn't even hesitate. His voice? It's hard to argue with a voice like that, but maybe I'm rushing into things. There you go again. You've always wanted to date a genuinely nice guy, and now that you've found one, you're making up excuses to stop seeing him. Do you want to end up with someone like Robbie again? No. No way. I said aloud. That's not what this is. Jack's just...what? Too charming? Too handsome? God, I was being ridiculous. I didn't want to date anyone like him ever again. Was he forced to hold my tongue, bullied into silence? No. I deserve better than that now. What was the point of moving away otherwise? I left Jack's bathroom and walked down the dark hallway that led to the den. Hurriedly smoothing out the wrinkles in my skirt. Even before Jack had given me the tour, I noticed that his cabin, and I didn't know if you could even call it that, was huge, and quite modern, made out of glass and steel with clean boxy lines. Makes sense for a doctor, I guess? Shiny, sterile, quiet? Not really aligned with the cabin in the woods, aesthetic, but there were no neighbors nearby to complain about it anyway. Rain pelted the ceiling and windows furiously. A fresh peel of thunder made me flinch. I quickened my pace, eager to get back to the warm and well lit living room where Jack and a lovely bottle of red wine were waiting for me. Before I had gotten up, he was in the middle of one of his more amusing anecdotes, or he was... Dread pulsed through my stomach and I paused, listening intently. Was that? It had come from my right. A flash of lightning showed me a metal door, the garage. I remembered Jack's tour and how he skipped it over. Suddenly I thought of a very different fairy tale I once read, one accompanied by a series of illustrations. They'd shown Blue Beard's newest wife opening the forbidden door, glancing around furtively as she did so, only to freeze in horror at the sight of his previous wives dangling from the ceiling. Their blood staining the floorboards read. I stared hard through the sea of darkness that led to the garage. Maybe it's an animal. Maybe something wandered inside like a raccoon. Maybe it was the wind. I hadn't even realized I was talking aloud, but the sound of my own voice anchored me, brought me back to reality. The certainty that I'd heard a scream, a human scream, faded away. I ran a hand through my hair and huffed out a disgusted laugh at myself. I clearly needed that glass of wine. I'd let Jack know that some kind of animal had wandered into his garage, and we'd go investigate together. A flash of terror kept me frozen in place, broken by a snap decision. Someone needs help. Without thinking, I lunged towards where I'd last seen the garage door, searching for a handle in the darkness. As soon as I stepped inside, the automatic lights clicked on and blinded me. When my eyes adjusted, I stifled a scream. A dog kennel had been placed in the corner of the garage, and inside of it was open and naked. Pale and emaciated. She had long brown hair and a spray of freckles across her nose, not unlike my own. The compact crate forced her into a perpetual crouch. She hardly had the space to lift her head to look at me. Through cracked lips, she whispered, Please, help me. My mind consumed with panic. I ran towards her and knelt down to unlock the kennel door. A wasted precious seconds tugging at it uselessly before realizing that a padlock was attached. Shit! I spun around to look for something that could help. I hadn't paid much attention to the rest of the room until now. To preoccupied with the miniature cage and its occupant, but the room was mostly bare. A metal table stood in the center, right over a drain, set into the concrete floor. Stained leather straps dangled from it. There was a stack of plastic crates next to it as well, with a radio sitting silently on top. Every drawer was filled with various implements, scalples, scissors, forceps, needles, bone, saws, and knives, surgical and non-surgical. Don't think about why these tools are here. I told myself focus on getting her free. I picked up a knife that was nearly as long as my hand, with a serrated edge and sped back towards the cage. It was hard to meet our eyes. They were so full of terror and pain, but I managed it. I'm going to get you out of here. I promised. Crouched down next to her, the similarity between us struck me anew. But she was younger than I'd initially estimated. Not a woman my age, but instead in her early 20s or maybe younger. She drew a deep shuddering breath as I pushed the knife's edge into a metal bar and began to saw back and forth. Who did this to you? All right, dumb question, given that this was Jack's house, but it was hard to believe that everything he'd shown me tonight had been a lie. The wine, the compliments. God even asked how my mother was. How could anyone be so monstrously good at faking compassion as though it was a costume that he could put on or take off at will? It went past acting and into a whole other realm of lunacy. He asked me to come with him. I was walking my dog and he said, I didn't want to, but what he spoke at. I couldn't run. The rest of her works dissolved into incoherent sobs. Shhh. It's okay. It's okay. What's your name? Ella. Ella. I handed her my phone and continued grinding the bars of the kennel with the knife. See if you can call 911. How long had it been since I told Jack that I was going to the bathroom? What if he found me here? I had no doubt he'd be able to overpower me. He was over six feet tall and I was all the five feet and two inches. It says that there's no signal. Just keep trying. The bar I've been sawing at broken half. For the first time, I allowed myself to believe that we'd make it. Once I got Ella out of this kennel, we'd run for my car and we keep driving until we reached a police station. I started on the next metal rung with renewed figure. I didn't need to break all of them just enough that she'd be able to crawl out. Well, this is awkward. I scrambled up and rolled around to see Jack. Standing in the doorway, his arms crossed. He looked completely at ease as if we were sitting on his living room sofa and chatting over a glass of wine. I didn't think that you'd, you know, break into my garage. That's pretty rude. I called 911. I was trying not to sound as terrified as I felt. The police will be here soon. That would get Jack to back off, right? I didn't tighten my hold on the knife, but I didn't know if I could actually use it on him. Or on any human being. I thought about it with Robbie once, with how he hurt me. I thought it would be easy, but in the moment my hands wouldn't steady. And they were definitely shaking now. Jack gave a world weary sigh, as if I just said something remarkably stupid. The smile faded from his face, his eyes turning into blue chips of ice. I was suddenly aware all over again of how tall he was, and how he seemed to loom over me, even from across the room. Uh-huh. I gotta say, you're not a very good liar, Alice. Ella whimpered and dropped my phone with a loud clatter. I lifted my chin. I'm not lying. I'm on their way right now. Right. Well, as thrilling as this has been, I've other things to do tonight. Alice, use the knife on yourself. Ella, shut up. His voice was like strawberry syrup, or the scent of roadkill, coded my senses and adhering to every part of me. My wrist moved without any input from my brain, and turned the knife around. I tried to stop, or at least slow its movement, but someone else had assumed control over my body now. Slowly the tip of the knife inch towards my left hand. Panic, nod at me with sharp, cannibal teeth. I told myself to stop, to let go of the knife, to point it back towards Jack. Instead, instead I stabbed the knife right through my palm. Sharp, glass in pain, filled my entire world. Black waves swept over my vision. You can't pass out. If you do, you'll be in that kennel next. I came back to myself in increments, tenuously clinging to the ropes of consciousness. I'd collapsed at some point. My knife lay on the ground a few feet away. I managed to raise my head enough to look for Ella. Jack had opened the door of the cage where she was cowering, cringing away. Her face was white as exposed bone. He picked up my phone and slid it into his pocket. Then he said to her, get on the seat and tie yourself down. Her arms lifted up once, twice, before falling down by her sides as if all the strength had run out of them. Tears streamed on her face, and her eyes were wide and panicked, even as her feet obediently carried her over to the table, patiently shimmering under the fluorescent lights. A terrible idea began to take shape and substance in my mind. It was insane, totally impossible. But I had no other explanation for why Ella was loyally following his every command. Why we both had. I just stabbed myself through the hand because he told me to. I hadn't been able to stop myself. I hadn't been able to fight it at all. I just lost control over my body as though Jack had injected himself into every cell, every atom. How was I supposed to tear myself away? Jack turned around and looked at me. There was nothing human in his eyes. Nothing I could appeal to. I recognized that studied silence, that dried to stain. I'd seen it on Robbie's face many times before, usually right before he hit me. Nobody can hear you, Alice, you know what I said? Nobody ever will. Jack was going to hurt me, and I was going to die. If not tonight, then very soon. Go into the dark battle and stare. The command pushed at me as though I was made of clay. I scoured through my options, unable to stop my legs from dragging me towards the kennel. Blocking my ears might work. If I couldn't hear him, his voice wouldn't affect me. But it's not like I was carrying earplugs, and I couldn't keep my hands over my ears while I tried to defend myself or Ella. Thank, thank, whatever you need to do, you do it fast. Because if he locks you in that cage, you're not getting out. As I note in front of the kennel, I crawled on my injured hand. White stars of agony danced across my vision. By the time they cleared away, Jack had picked up a scalpel. Ella had seen it too. She made a muffled moan, breathing in quick, racket, gasps. Time was running out. I promised Ella that I would get her out of here. I'd promised. Got her old screams, filled the air, and Jack switched on the radio. Beethoven. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, trying to hold back my own tears. Robbie's snarling face appeared in my mind's eye. I had believed him when he told me that I had deserved his vitriol and his beatings. When he told me to be quiet, I did. When he told me to forgive him, I did. When he told me to stay for all those years. For the first time tonight, I felt something stronger than fear. Rage. So intoxicating, I was nearly drunk on it. Rage that I'd trusted Jack. And that somehow I'd stumbled out of the clutches of one monster and into the next. In a last ditch effort to find something, anything to shield me from Jack's manipulation. I reached into the pockets of my skirt and felt the hair pins. I wasn't going to die like this. Not at the command of another sweet talking puppeteering narcissist. In one quick motion, I stabbed the hair pins in my ears. A high pitched ringing filled my head and the room spun like a racetrack. Swallow convulsively passed the piercing pain. If I screamed, I couldn't tell, but it worked. I was no longer on his leash. My arms and legs were back in my control. My body was mine. When I felt as though I could move without also throwing up, I backpedaled, crawling out of the cage. Then I turned towards Jack. Halfway behind him, I reached out and scooped up the knife. Jack hadn't noticed anything. Too absorbed in whatever he was doing to Ella. His body blocked my view of her, but I could see rivulets of blood running down the table and swirling around the drain. As soon as I was only a few feet away, I pushed myself up onto one shake-gain me, and then another. The room still spun around me like a drunken ballroom, and I swayed on my feet. I was going to pass out. It wasn't a question of if, but when I took a tottering step forward, and as if sensing me behind him, Jack began to turn around. I stabbed the knife into his arm. He must have cried out. His lips were shaping words, but my ears were still buzzing and full of blood. Once he realized what I had done, his arrogant face drained to panic. Then I looked past him and saw what he'd done to Ella. Jack, he was no different than a butcher at a meatmock. A red mist descended over my vision. I plunged the knife into his body over and over again, unable to stop myself unwilling to stop. A violent savagery took over, and my entire world narrowed down to two points. Me and him. No. Me or him. I didn't stop. Not until the knife was slick and Jack was on the floor. Sweat and blood stung my eyes, but I didn't blink to afraid that this was just a trick. I waited for him to get back up to stab me with a scalpel he still clutched, but he wasn't moving. He'd never move again, and he had my phone. I forced myself to reach out and search through his blood-sodden pockets until I found it. And then I turned towards Ella, hobbling closer. Incredibly, she was still alive, but her eyes were glazing over. Hang on, I said. My voice still faint, muffled by blood filling my ears. We're getting out of here. Remember? Still struggling to stand. I made my way out of the garage and into the hallway, trailing blood against the wall as I struggled to remain upright. I kept my eyes fixed on my phone until a single bar appeared in the corner of the screen. I dialed 911. I couldn't quite hear the monotonous drone of the ringing or the operator's practiced concern, but I knew one thing was certain. I would make myself heard. If you believe you or someone you know is stuck in an abusive relationship, you can contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at www.thighotline.org or call 1-800-799-Safe. Full Body Chills is an audio-chuck production. This episode was written by Michelle Chu and read by Margot Cybert. This story was modified slightly for audio retelling, but you can find the original info on our website. I think Chuck would approve. Everyone's told a lie, but what happens when one lie becomes a life, a movement, a conspiracy. I'm Josh Dean, host of Camillean, and I uncover true stories of deception scams so intimate and convincing they fooled the people closest to them. These are strangers, they're lovers, friends, and trusted allies. Because the most dangerous cons don't feel like crimes, they feel personal. Listen to Camillean wherever you get your podcasts.