She couldn't remember how she got here. All that Cora had wanted to do was go to the store for milk before the storm had gotten really bad, and now she was dying in the snow. The cold ground under her was biting into her skin, even through her clothes, except for the parts where Cora could feel the warm blood that was pouring from her body growing wider and wider as it spread. Her breath was shallow. Each small inhale felt like it was harder and harder for her to take, the pain growing with each exhale.
There was snow falling now, slowly rolling across the sky from where Cora lay, flakes landing daintily on her exposed face before her body heat melted them, creating watery trails that disappeared into her hairline. They mixed with the bloody wound on her neck, the only warmth Cora could feel anymore. Cora tried to call for help, tried to get herself to move at all, but her limbs were too heavy, and the blood felt like it was choking her when she tried to speak…
It felt like the world was moving around her, but Cora couldn't move her body. There were loud noises all around her, a woman talking in a rapid and frantic voice, and the worry was evident. Cora couldn't make out the words, didn't care enough to concentrate and hear the conversation. Bright lights were above her, and they hurt her eyes so much that Cora did all she could to squeeze them tightly shut. It hurt, and she didn't know why. Why couldn't she move? Why did it hurt? A siren? Why was it so loud? Why was she so tired? Cora was exhausted, like she had worked a whole 12-hour shift, but that wasn't right, her boss had let her go home early because of the sleet. Why was the woman's voice getting more frantic? Cora recognized what it was she heard in the woman's voice now. Fear. But why was the woman so afraid. All Cora wanted to do was sleep…
6 hours ago
He had followed her in his car, ran her right off the road. His rage had been so evident as he had smashed the driver's side window with a cross wrench he always kept in the front seat, grabbing her hair and dragging her through the shards that remained. He had thrown her into a tree, the bark scraping her face as he held her with one fist in her hair as the other landed anywhere he aimed. Her stomach, her arms, even as Cora tried to hold them up to protect her face on the other side, he had swatted them away like a bug before hitting the left side of her face again and again, the bones shattering and cutting her up from the inside.
"You stupid cunt, you stupid bitch! You should have just said yes! Why couldn't you just say yes?!"
His yell echoed around them, but they were right inside the perimeter of the playground, and with the sleet falling around them, there were no kids or parents out to see his battery of her. Cora tried once again to curl her arms protectively around her head, the pain making her eyes tear up unwillingly as his fist punctuated his every word.
He let her go suddenly, the stinging of her scalp a mild relief compared to the pain that blossomed all over the top half of her body and face. He spit on her, then kicked her in the back. There was an audible 'snap' and Cora felt intense white-hot pain radiate from the backside of her ribcage. Cora fell to her hands and knees, trying to catch her breath in choking gasps. Blood dripped from her mouth and face onto the slush before her, mixing together to create a morbid thing that looked like a strawberry shake. If Cora hadn't been so terrified, she might have laughed at the ridiculousness of the scene.
"Get up, you fridged bitch! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"
He kicked at her again, this time aiming for her backside so that Cora fell forward face-first into the bloody slush. The icy mixture was stinging, but it also briefly numbed the pain of her facial wounds, and Cora lay there motionless. He wasn't having that and grabbed her once more by her hair, lifting her straight up and twisting her neck so that they were eye to eye.
His dark blue eyes, which Cora had once briefly thought so intense and sweet, now looked like burning flames at her, the rage in them so powerful that it made her stomach twist in knots just to look at. Fear made her body shake even more than the cold surrounding them. The sleet ran down his face rapidly, making him look like he had just gotten out of a swimming pool, but it seemed to be doing nothing to make him less inclined to continue his assault on her.
"I'll make you pay for embarrassing me." He rasped.
He threw her down by the grip he had on her hair, the momentum enough that Cora fell backward, and her head bounced off the ground she hit so hard. He reached around the side of his belt loop, and when his hand returned to her view, he held a knife in it. It wasn't large but looked sharp enough to her untrained eyes.
"Bitches like you give good guys like me a bad name. If you would have given me a chance, I would have treated you like a princess. Now you're gonna get treated like the slut you are."
His voice came out in a low hiss, the disgust he felt for her amplified by him spitting directly in her face this time, the spittle landing on the side that had been marked by the tree. He came at her then, and Cora tried to back away, but every time she moved, Cora felt like she couldn't breathe, pain racing through her body. He grabbed her leg, and Cora kicked at him; he sliced at that leg with the knife, and Cora gave a loud cry of pain as blood welled and flowed from the cut. The blade was sharp. Sharp enough to cut through her leggings and flesh like paper. He dragged her to a line of strategically planted bushes that lined the park's perimeter, the slush on the ground making it easy for him as Cora tried to twist out of his grasp as best as her injuries would let her. He was leaving a bloody trail, but the sleet quickly took care of it.
When he got her to the spot he wanted, he let her go, and Cora tried to flip over to crawl away. He came up behind her and put the knife to her throat, not even bothering to grab her hair this time. He put his face next to her ear, the pressure making her eyes well again with tears as he purposefully pressed against the battered remains of the left side of her face.
"You're gonna give me what you should have given me to begin with, you little bitch."
Fear at his words blazed through her body, making her want to throw up. Cora knew what was coming. He kept the knife at her throat, then as his other hand found the waist of her leggings and jerked them down. The cold sleet stung against her exposed skin, and Cora started shivering more and more because of a combination of the cold and fear. Her fear crested as Cora heard the slide of his zipper and felt him press himself against her; briefly, the thought of pulling away flitted through her mind, but that knife was already cutting into her neck. Cora could feel the slide of blood slowly trailing down. He pulled her into a more upright position, using the added leverage of the knife, and Cora willed herself to disappear…
6 months later
"She said she didn't remember how she got here."
Detective Zachariah Caden glanced up from the police report to the nurse speaking to him. He had just been handed this case after the previously assigned Detective asked for it to be moved to someone else. The case was a dead end without witness testimony; all the physical evidence had been contaminated from the sleet and snow, and since the victim had been in a coma ever since the attack with the likelihood that she would never awaken, the Detective didn't want the blight on his record. Detective Caden thought that was a dick move, but the higher-ups when for it anyway, and now the case was his responsibility. Said that, given Detective Caden's personal history, they thought he would be a better-suited individual to work this case, which made him angrier than he felt he had a right to be at the whole injustice of the victim's situation.
The victim had just woken up within the last two weeks which shocked the Hell out of everyone, so now Detective Caden was making this case a priority. The victim was only beginning to be able to communicate with hospital staff. Her family lived out of state and were still trying to make travel arrangements to come to her. Nobody was sure if she could talk, as the damage from the knife wound on her neck had been extensive. He had seen the crime scene photos, the injury photos, and reports from the hospital once they had managed to stabilize her after the third time she had flatlined. The attack could only be described, in his opinion, as monstrous. Everyone had said she was lucky to have survived. Still, he cynically thought living through something like that was probably worse. And now he had to put her through it again just to get the ball rolling on any sense of justice for her.
"When can I talk to her?" he demanded brusquely.
"Possibly after she had any sort of function again," the nurse spat angrily at him. "Detective, I know you have a job to do, but she is just waking up after a 6-month coma following a brutal attack and rape. The fact that she was able to attempt communication this early is a miracle in itself! She indicated that she doesn't remember what happened, and whether that is trauma from the attack, amnesia, or she just plain doesn't want to remember, it doesn't matter."
Detective Caden took a deep, calming breath before continuing.
"I understand where you are coming from, I get it. She's been through Hell, and I am the last person wanting to make her return there. But the victim is the only lead that we have to this attempted homicide, and whoever did this is going to get away with it if she doesn't help. Don't you think it might help her recover if she knew that the monster who did this to her was locked up and would never hurt her or another woman this way again?"
The nurse considered his words and let out a defeated breath. She remembered him from before, from that incident about five years ago now, and she internally adjusted her attitude to a more sympathetic one before speaking to him again.
"Only if she is willing to talk to you. If she tells you to leave, you leave, and don't you dare think about coming in here to bother that poor woman again."
Caden nodded his understanding and gathered up the case file again as the nurse motioned for him to follow her. She turned back to him briefly once more.
"Oh, and before you go in there, her name is Cora Garbo. Don't go in there doing your cop-speak and calling her a victim. She survived more than you or I will ever experience."
They continued down the hallway in silence before she stopped at the door with a 'fall risk' flag pointed out towards the door. The nurse led him through the door, and the Detective had to control his expression at what he met.
Cora had tubes and wires everywhere, still covering her body. She was insanely pale, nearly the same color as the hospital blanket that covered her. Her dark brown hair lay lank around her thin frame, and her deep brown eyes greeted her visitors warily as they walked into the room.
Her face had a large scar across the top of her cheekbone on her left side, indicating that she had had some sort of surgery, which he knew from the police and hospital reports was from a completely shattered cheekbone that had pierced the top cavity of her mouth. He knew that she had been kicked hard enough in the back that her entire rib cage on her left side had nearly broken, and one of the pieces had lacerated her lung. The fractures to her arms from the perpetrator's punches had healed with no issues, and the laceration on her leg had healed with no complications. That scarring on her face was nothing compared to the thick line that encircled her neck from when the perp had slashed her throat following the rape. The nurse was right about the trauma Cora had endured.
"Cora, this is Detective Caden. He's the officer in charge of the case from your attack. If you feel up to it, he has some questions for you. But if you want him to leave anytime, just let me know."
The nurse crossed her arms and glared again at the Detective, her slight stature telling him that she would protect Cora from him if necessary. Cora looked from the nurse back to the Detective and gave an almost imperceptible nod. The Detective sat down in the chair closest to Cora, giving her a slight smile.
"She’s been communicating mostly with blinks. We don’t want to chance her speaking until she’s awake a little longer, and we can assess for damage to her vocal cords.” The nurse informed him.
“One for yes, two for no, that sort of thing.”
Cora gave a long single blink, and the Detective crooked a smile at her.
“Good. Cora, I am so sorry for what you went through, and I know that waking up six months later in the hospital must be a shock. I’m just going to ask some simple questions to get started. I want to let you know this right off the bat. Unfortunately, because of the weather on the day of your attack, most of the physical evidence from the crime scene is gone. There were no cameras in that section of the park either. We got lucky with a video of the car that ran you off the road from them running a light at the intersection right before the park and an ID of the driver, but as of right now, we can’t tie any evidence of your attack to anyone. We need your witness testimony before we can move forward in any way. Do you understand?”
Cora gave another long blink, her breathing becoming a little rapid at his words as fear flooded through her from the attack, which to her seemed like only a couple weeks ago instead of half a year away. At first, she remembered only bits and pieces, but as time passed, she remembered everything that had happened to her. Everything that monster had done. He had tried to kill her. Lucas Reznik.
She wanted to tell the officer this, wanted to spill everything so that the cops could nail him and never let him go, but because of that monster, she couldn’t even wipe away the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes. The nurse saw and grabbed a tissue, dabbing at her eyes as Cora gave her a grateful glance.
“Don’t push her too hard, Detective. That’s your final warning.”
“Yes nurse ballbuster.” He muttered under his breath, earning another glare from said nurse.
“Okay, Cora, now I’m just going to go over the events of the day leading up to the attack. You’re just confirming a timeline right now. When we get to the attack, we will go slow, and if you need to stop, just close your eyes for me, got it?”
Another long blink is all Cora could give when all she wanted to do was tell him everything she had been through.
“Your boss confirmed that he had let you go early that day because of the weather, and we have you leaving work around 1:45pm, correct?”
Blink.
“Then we have you leaving the grocery store at approximately 2:34pm, correct?”
Blink.
“Did anything happen at that time that concerned you?”
Blink, blink.
“Shortly after that, we have an individual running a red light and running you off the road, yes?”
Blink. She wanted to scream ‘Yes, yes!’ at him but was trapped inside her still weakened body. The Detective sighed and, at this point, pulled out a picture that made Cora’s blood run cold.
There he was, staring right at her all over again, his blue eyes raging at her even through the photo, like he was standing right next to her. She started breathing rapidly, her blood pounding in her head as she began to get lightheaded. A monitor started blaring loudly, and it felt like she was going to pass out.
“Detective, you need to get out of here!” the nurse yelled at him as other staff started swarming into the room.
“No, wait! I just need an ID. Cora! Cora!”
Detective Caden dropped the entire case file to the floor, holding the photo pinched tightly between his fingers as he tried to make his way past two nurses to meet Cora’s line of sight.
“Is this the man that did this to you?! Is this the man that tried to kill you?!” he demanded frantically.
Cora looked at him for a long moment, a pause that felt like an eternity to them both. Her brown eyes flooded with fear at who she was looking at, and she forced herself to respond even as dizziness swarmed her head.
Blink.
The nurses used brute force to get him out of the room as another of Cora’s monitors started wailing shrilly in the room, and the Detective watched them stomping all over his case file. He didn’t care; his eyes never left Cora’s deep brown orbs as they rolled back in her head, until there was a doctor in the way shouting at him to move, but he couldn’t hear him over the ringing in his ears. It only ended when the heart monitor's long, single ringing sound started.
The Facts of the Case
The assault, rape, and attempted murder of Cora Garbo
Detective Caden sat in the hard booth behind the prosecutor's side, his hands cold from the lack of adequate heating in the courtroom as he surveyed the jury and the prosecutor rising to make his closing statement. The fact that it had taken them 10 months to reach this point after Cora had died in the hospital from a blood clot was insane in Caden’s opinion, but Reznik had tried to plan the temporary insanity game at the beginning, and when that hadn’t worked the defense had tried to get the judge to go for a lesser plea. After all, they claimed over and over Mr. Lucas Resnik was a nice guy. Everyone said how much of a nice guy he was. For months and months, Detective Caden had to choke back vomit every time they brought up what a nice guy the defendant was.
Now, here they were, the last day before the jury deliberated on the creep that, in Caden’s opinion, ended Cora’s life. The prosecutor was good; he had had many cases that he won and more that he settled out of court. Detective Caden knew that personally on the latter.
He had wanted the challenge of this case because, while it didn’t fit the criteria of domestic violence, it did hit on the hot topic of women being killed by rejected male partners, which was giving the prosecutor the camera time he wanted. Caden didn’t care as long as Reznik rotted for what he did to Cora.
The prosecutor cleared his throat and directed his glance to the jury.
“Cora had been set up on a blind date by her co-worker, Amanda Netter, to meet with Lucas Reznik, another friend of Amanda Netter whom Cora had previously never met. Lucas and Cora met at Union Alehouse, a restaurant within the city limits. Witnesses at the restaurant, including waitstaff, expressed that they witnessed the two seeming to get along well for most of the evening, but identified that Lucas Reznik became visibly angry when Cora Garbo refused to accompany him back to his residence at his request. You heard the testimony from the waitstaff who had been tabled the couple. She stated that when she came to get the card for payment of the meal, Mr. Reznik verbalized that he “wasn’t paying for a slut that wouldn’t even put out.” And he left the restaurant without payment. Miss Garbo covered the bill and left the establishment approximately 10 minutes after the waitstaff witnessed Mr. Reznik leave the building.”
He paused here for dramatic effect Caden was sure of.
“During the course of the investigation, the cameras from the establishment's parking lot were reviewed, and it was witnessed that Mr. Reznik was seen attempting to open the car doors of Miss. Garbo’s vehicle, and when he failed to do so, he moved his vehicle to a spot closer to the exit. He followed Miss Garbo’s vehicle out of the parking lot with his own. Upon further examination, it was also noted that Miss. Garbo arrived second at the restaurant, and Mr. Reznik was seen exiting his vehicle and circling Miss Garbo’s several times before initially entering the restaurant. On the day of the event, as previously stated, the police have video from nearby traffic cameras showing the perpetrator running Miss Garbo’s vehicle off the road at 3:02pm. His car was not seen by any traffic cameras again until he ran a red light at 5:48pm near his home of record. Upon a search conducted of Mr. Reznik’s home and vehicle following Miss Garbo’s identification before her death, detectives were able to find the knife that had been used to slit Miss Garbo’s throat with her blood still on the handle and blade, as well as trace amounts of Miss Garbo’s blood in the flooring of the perpetrator’s vehicle.”
He paused yet again, and Caden knew he was leading up to the big finish. Here was the part that the defense had harped on since day one. There was no physical evidence of him actually attacking, raping, or cutting Cora’s throat, only what they claimed was circumstantial, the knife and the blood. After all, Mr. Reznik was a nice guy.
“Now, good people of the jury, you are probably asking yourself, why am I going through the entirety of the trial again? You’re probably thinking we know the facts! We’ve seen the evidence! And you’re right. You’ve seen what the defense has concluded in their argument as circumstantial evidence. Blood and a knife that could have been ‘put there by anyone,’ the defense says. Why they have even tried to say that Miss Cora herself probably was injured when she ‘slid off the road’ and Mr. Reznik was simply trying to assist her. Yet the injuries that Miss Garbo sustained during the attack, as well as her subsequent rape and attempted murder, fit the time frame in question. Why did it take Mr. Reznik over an hour and a half to get home when he lived only 3 blocks away, even if he had helped Miss Garbo? Why the amount of blood on the floor of his car and knife? A knife consistent with the victim’s wounds, I might add. The events leading up to the attack identify Mr. Reznik’s motive. Upon identification from Miss. Garbo herself in the hospital prior to her death, she ID’d Mr. Reznik as her attacker and rapist. Now, the defense wants to argue that you should ignore Miss Garbo’s identification because she was hospitalized and enfeebled at the time of the Detective’s questioning, that she could have been confused or coerced by the Detective, but I say to you this, what person who had been so brutalized, so horribly attacked would ever forget the face of the one that did that to them?”
The prosecutor places his hands back on his desk, facing away from the jury for a brief moment, letting them marinate on his question before finishing.
“I ask you, good people, don’t let the defenses smoke screen of what we, the prosecution, don’t have, but rather listen with your hearts and minds to what we do have. We have a brave young woman who, in her last moments of life on this Earth after the horrible atrocity that she endured, points the finger at her assailant and says yes, this is the man that did this to me. Cora deserves this justice, as do any who have the courage to name their assailants, stand before their fellow man, and demand justice be served. The defense rests.”
Detective Caden got up and left his seat, not wanting to stay and hear the defense’s puppet show or look at Reznik more than he had already had to stomach over the last 10 months. Whether Cora would get justice or not was now in the hands of the jury, but Caden was just as pessimistic as he had been when he had first been handed the case file over a year ago that she would get it. Even if they did find him guilty, Caden was sure his sentence would get knocked down, and the amount of time he did for torturing Cora, raping, and killing her would be next to nothing.
He took out his wallet and pulled out an old picture. He stared at the frayed and cracked image. A woman with bright blue eyes and blonde hair that matched the detectives perfectly stood on one side. The man beside her had his arm draped around her shoulders, and his face scratched out. Parts of the picture on that side had holes due to how firmly scraped the picture was. At the bottom were two dates written in dark marker. One was the date of his sister’s death. The other was the date of release for her ex-husband, the man that had killed her. There were only five years between the dates. The second date was in 2 months, 12 days. The same day that Cora Garbo died. Detective Caden returned the picture in his wallet and left the courthouse just as the jury returned.
The End
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