Murder in the first life

From the beginning

Saturday, November 17th, 2012, 11:45 pm

Saturday, November 17th, 2012, 11:59 pm

Sunday, November 18th, 2012, 03:20 am

Sunday, November 18th, 2012, 11:10 am

Monday, November 19th, 2012, 06:45 am

Monday, November 19th, 2012, 06:45 am

Tuesday, November 20th, 2012, 06:30 pm

Tuesday, November 20th, 2012, 06:30 pm

Friday, November 23rd, 2012, 07:05 pm

Sunday, November 25th, 2012, 08:57 am

Tuesday, November 27th, 2012, 10:45 pm

Wednesday, November 28th, 2012, 03:15 pm

Wednesday, November 28th, 2012, 02:30 pm

Thursday, November 29th, 2012, 07:05 am

Friday, November 30th, 2012, 09:00 am

Sunday, December 02nd, 2012, 02:00 pm

Sunday, December 02nd, 2012, 06:00 pm

Monday, December 03rd, 2012, 03:00 pm

Tuesday, December 04th, 2012, 07:00 pm

Wednesday, December 05th, 2012, 05:50 pm

Thursday, December 06th, 2012, 12:30 pm

Thursday, December 06th, 2012, 10:30 am

Saturday, December 08th, 2012, 07:00 pm

Sunday, December 09th, 2012, 10:30 am

Monday, December 10th, 2012, 06:30 pm

Tuesday, December 11th, 2012, 09:30 am

Tuesday, December 11th, 2012, 06:30 pm

Wednesday, December 12th, 2012, 08:45 am

Wednesday, December 12th, 2012, 08:00 pm

Thursday, December 13th, 2012, 09:00 am

Friday, December 14th, 2012, 07:45 pm

Sunday, December 16th, 2012, 03:45 pm

Monday, December 17th, 2012, 02:45 pm

Thursday, December 20th, 2012, 07:30 pm

Friday, December 21st, 2012, 09:00 am

Saturday, December 22nd, 2012, 02:00 pm

Sunday, December 23rd, 2012, 04:00 pm

Sunday, December 23rd, 2012, 06:00 pm

Monday, December 24th, 2012, 09:00 am

Monday, December 24th, 2012, 07:00 pm

Monday, December 24th, 2012, 05:00 pm

Tuesday, December 25th, 2012, 12:00 am

Wednesday, December 26th, 2012, 01:45 pm

Thursday, December 27th, 2012, 09:00 am

Friday, December 28th, 2012, 04:00 pm

Sunday, December 31st, 2012, 06:00 pm

Thursday, January 10th, 2013, 05:00 pm

Thursday, January 10th, 2013, 05:45 pm

Friday, January 11th, 2013, 05:00 pm

Saturday, January 12th, 2013, 04:15 pm

Sunday, January 13th, 2013, 10:15 am

Monday, January 14th, 2013, 09:30 am

Tuesday, January 15th, 2013, 07:00 am

Tuesday, January 15th, 2013, 07:45 pm

Wednesday, January 16th, 2013, 09:30 am

Wednesday, January 16th, 2013, 06:30 pm

Friday, January 18th, 2013, 08:30 am

Monday, January 21st, 2013, 07:15 am

Thursday, January 24th, 2013, 07:20 pm

Friday, January 25th, 2013, 12:20 pm

Saturday, January 26th, 2013, 06:03 pm

Saturday, January 26th, 2013, 06:05 pm

Saturday, January 26th, 2013, 06:30 pm

Saturday, January 26th, 2013, 07:00 pm

Saturday, January 26th, 2013, 07:00 pm

Saturday, January 26th, 2013, 07:25 pm

Saturday, January 26th, 2013, 07:27 pm

Saturday, January 26th, 2013, 07:29 pm

Saturday, January 26th, 2013, 07:30 pm

Friday, February 01st, 2013, 08:11 pm

Extract from the second book

Chapter 1

Acknowledgement

Murder in the first life

Thriller 

Second edition

Dirk Lützelberger

© 2020 Dirk Lützelberger

By the same author have also been published:

Mord im ersten Leben (German Edition)
Roadtrip in Australien (German Edition)
Road trip Australia (English Edition)
Hintertüren (German Edition)
Secret doors (English Edition)

Printed in Germany

The work, including its parts, is protected by copyright. Any use is prohibited without the consent of the publisher and the author. This applies in particular to electronic or other reproduction, translation, distribution and making available to the public.

Imprint

Texts: © Copyright by Dirk Lützelberger
Cover: © Copyright by Dirk Lützelberger
Translation: www.deepl.com, manual proofreading
Publisher: Dirk Lützelberger
Am Sorgfeld 14
22587 Hamburg
dirk.luetzelberger+murder-in-the-first-lives@gmail.com
Pressure: epubli – a service of neopubli GmbH, Berlin

Anonymous figures surf the Internet every day to pursue their secret fantasies undetected.
Chief Inspector Gwendolyn Fisher, a single mother, has recently lost her beloved husband. She is trying to get her life back under control when the perpetrator strikes for the first time. Together with her partner Superintendent Stefan Schick, she tries to pick up the trail of the killer when he slays again. Unusual places where corpses are found and very different approaches to the murders don’t show any connection, but nevertheless the two soon get the idea that this must be a serial killer. Gwen desperately tries to push the investigation forward and also counts on the support of her 14-year-old son, who is very much affected by the death of his father. Together they penetrate a virtual parallel world on the Internet, which both have never known before. Is this the key to solving the case?
In the real world, the killer has already tracked down her family. A race against time begins.

For Chrissi

Saturday, November 17th, 2012, 11:45 pm

The cold metal of the bars pressed into his back while Kay Berger tried again and again to find a more comfortable position. After endless attempts he gave up resignedly. It made no sense. His body ached from the cramped position he had been crammed into. It was cold here and dirty.

This was not how he had imagined it, although he had dreamed of sitting naked and locked up in a narrow metal cage several times before. But in this cold November night there was nothing exciting at all. Disappointed, he collapsed deep inside himself.

How had he got into this situation anyway, Kay wondered. Under other circumstances it would have been exactly what he longed for, but at that moment it was just unpleasant. Meanwhile, the bars left very painful marks all over his body. An icy wind glided over his naked body and he got goose bumps. For several hours now he sat in his prison and he shivered. It was really no fun anymore. Had it begun as fun? Kay knew nothing anymore. Somehow his memory was erased. It was time to end this game here. But how? Why him, why now, Kay wondered. But the more he thought about it, the less he had an answer to his questions.

His senses were sharpened by the darkness and he began to explore his surroundings. It smelled slightly of gasoline. Not penetrating, more like someone had spilled a few drops of petrol, which now evaporated. The air was clammy and humid. He felt a breeze now and then, which stroked his skin. Where was he? Kay couldn’t remember very much, no matter how hard he tried. Someone had grabbed him from behind. He had just come home and had parked his car. The stranger had put a cloth over his mouth and nose. What had it smelled like? Kay shivered at the memory of the hospital smell. Then a precipice, a black hole. His legs gave way and … this is where his memory left him. When he woke up, it was light. The next day? Or the day after that? Did it make any difference? He had lost all sense of time. He had to get out of here quickly. His legs, his back and his butt were beginning to hurt like hell. He knew the phenomenon. He had read about it on the Internet. The human body needs to be able to stretch out from time to time. The muscles must loosen, stretch and contract again. The body cannot remain in one position for very long. If it is forced, for example because it has been tied up, it causes hellish pain after a short time and the muscles then start to cramp. Kay felt the next cramp in his thigh, because he could hardly move for hours. His enormous fullness now became his fatality. His flabby body filled the small prison on the side completely, condemning him to immobility. He had to suffer until help came. To make matters worse, he thought, his hands were also handcuffed to the bars behind his back. His legs weren’t tied, but he had to put them down in the cage at an angle because of the narrowness of the cage and could not stretch them out under any circumstances.

The nearby church clock was striking. Kay counted the beats. Half an hour till midnight.

He had got used to the darkness by now and his pupils were wide open. Shadowy he could perceive his surroundings, but he couldn’t see any details beyond the bars. It had to be a new moon, because even through the small window behind him no light came in, which would have made it easier for him to find his way around the room.

Without warning the light was turned on and his eyes hurt. It was bright light, which hit his retina unprepared and he squeezed his eyes together reflexively. Steps! Steps that came towards him. Slowly Kay blinked, but he couldn’t make out any details. He could only perceive the black, shadowy outlines of a person.

"How are you?" asked the person in a soft voice. Kay was confused by the calm tone of his tormentor. "W-w-why are you doing this? What do you w-w-want from me?" His voice trembled.

"You wanted it that way" the stranger purred again in the same monotonous tone. He pondered for a moment and then continued, "I’m only fulfilling your dreams!"

Had he heard right? It must have been a bad dream, Kay thought.

"This is madness! What makes you think I would have dreamed of something like this? Untie me at once!" By now his eyes had become accustomed to the bright light and he could open them normally. Kay watched the man opposite him. Did he know him? Then why did he say he wanted to fulfil him his dreams. Who was this guy? "Please – please let me go. My wife is already looking for me. I won’t tell anyone else. I won’t. Please!"

"I don’t think your wife is already looking for you" the stranger replied monotonously. "After all, you don’t get along as well as you used to! Why should she look for you if you always stay out all night and never say a word about where you’ve been?"

How did the guy know all these details about him, about his life and his family? Kay shivered all over as the stranger walked around the cage and stopped behind him. Searching, Kay turned his gaze right and left and realized he was in a garage, as the smell of gasoline had already made him suspect. On one wall were all sorts of tools hanging and on a shelf on the other wall were several canisters of some kind of liquid. The man behind him was digging in his tool bank. The sounds Kay heard did bode ill. His heart was beating up to his throat. He feared the stranger could hear it beating.

"We’re going to take a little trip" the stranger continued, and Kay now heard the sound that tape made when pulling it off a roll. It all happened very quickly and before Kay understood exactly, hands reached through the bars from behind. With nimble fingers, the figure sealed Kay’s lips.

"We don’t want you to wake up the neighbours, do we?"

Kay could almost hear the horrible smile. He breathed in and out violently through his nose, shook himself, trying to get rid of the tape, but it was already sticking perfectly to his skin. Panic rose in him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t separate his lips a millimetre more. Kay’s eyes opened as the cage was tilted backwards and his head hit the bars. He rolled off. The guy pushed him through the garage with the cage on a sack barrow.

"The journey will not take long. Make yourself comfortable."

Saturday, November 17th, 2012, 11:59 pm

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five" Gwendolyn Fisher counted enthusiastically and together with Elisabeth Robinson and Stefan Schick they finished the countdown, "four, three, two, one!"

Then all the other guests joined in and together they sang, "Happy Bööörthday, tooo you – Happy Bööörthday to youuuuu."

Paul Fisher got goose bumps from the strange sounds, but he smiled bravely when he heard his friends singing. It was good to see them again and they had all accepted the invitation on his day of honour. Celebrating his forty-sixth birthday was Gwendolyn’s idea, or Gwen, as she was called by everyone. She always had such great ideas and was always good for a surprise, thought Paul and looked at her face in love. The youthful charisma of his wife was certainly due to her green eyes, which shone like emeralds full of enthusiasm. She had been Paul’s dream girl from the very beginning, ever since he had succumbed to her smile and her glances at their first encounter. Gwen threw back her long, curly, red hair when she fell around her husband’s neck. Paul could barely stand on his feet as Gwen gave him a birthday kiss on the mouth that every man present envied him.

Gwen laughed her head off, "Now you are in you forty-seventh year of life, your old age guy, while I am only forty-two!"

The party guests enjoyed themselves, although they had to hear the saying every year. It was Gwen’s special way of interpreting the facts and making a positive statement. She was a natural talent for gaiety and joy.

"I also want to congratulate" Phillip squeezed through the group towards his father and wrapped his arms around him. "Happy birthday, Daddy. Stay as you are, that’s how I love you." Paul swallowed hard in the embrace of his fourteen-year-old son, who wanted to be called Phil by everyone. He reminded him so much of himself when he was little, and also saw much of his wife in him. The pert, mischievous look and alert blue eyes he had from his father, the unmistakable red hair from his mother. He himself had agreed to go bald a few years ago when his hair turned grey and began to fall out. That was at least very easy to care for, Paul thought, and it also seemed 'cool' in his son’s eyes. A bit like the hero in 'Die Hard', he kept saying. Paul smiled at the thought of it.

"Now make way for your old mother!" Actually, her name was Elisabeth, but the name had been too old-fashioned for her, so everyone called her just Beth, or sometimes Lisbeth, if necessary. Despite her seventy-two years, she still wiggled through the crowd and reached her son-in-law. She bent down to his ear. "At my age one can’t stand it when children worry one. So, you’d best stay safe and sound so we can have many more lovely parties together." Then she kissed him on the cheek.

"Now let’s have a toast before we die of thirst!" Michael Peters suggested and raised his glass. Dr Peters was a long-time friend of the family and had worked with Gwen at the Kiel State Office of Criminal Investigation, called 'Landeskriminalamt' or LKA, for many years. He oversaw investigating crime scenes and clues in the forensic department. In the meantime, Gwen had been promoted to Chief Inspector and together with her colleague, Superintendent Stefan Schick, they were a well-rehearsed team.

All three cheered Paul when he suddenly sank to the ground, powerless and unexpectedly.

"Paul, what about you?" cried Gwen, still trying to stop the falling body. But the ninety kilograms slid inexorably to the ground, where Paul lay motionless. The guests standing around were paralyzed when Michael was the first to become aware of the situation and sank to his knees next to Paul. He immediately shook him by the shoulders, "Paul, can you hear me?"

Michael put his ear to Paul’s nose and observed if the chest was still moving. The guests around him hardly dared to breathe. After a few seconds his lips formed a slow 'sh…it', then Michael stood up and was in his element. He had experienced such situations many times before.

"Stefan, call the ambulance immediately" he commanded. "Tell them to hurry, he’s probably having a heart attack!"

"Gwen, you’re coming with me! Put on a jacket and Beth, please take care of the guests and stay with Phil until we call from the hospital. Now, everybody, please get out of here!" Michael, ripped open Paul’s shirt, immediately started chest compressions to keep his friend’s circulation going. He had to bridge the time until the ambulance arrived.

♦♦♦

Dr Peters knew the emergency medical team very well, which came into the living room after a few minutes. He shouted to them from a distance, without interrupting the chest compressions, "The defibrillator, quickly!" He knew that Paul was in good hands with his former colleagues and could do anything more for him at that moment. A defibrillator, which would bring the heart rhythm back into order by means of a targeted electric shock, was the only thing that could help now. Michael was sure of that.

When the paramedics took over, he stood up and hugged Gwen. Breathlessly, they watched the doctor’s efforts. Hope germinated in Gwen’s eyes as the paramedics worked at a hectic pace.

"We have a pulse again!" cheered the younger of the two doctors. "He must get to hospital immediately!"

On the way to the ambulance, Michael shouted at Gwen, "Get into the front, I’ll stay in the back with your husband!" While Gwen hurried forward, Michael almost yelled at Stefan, "We’re going to the Army Hospital, it’s the closest one." He added to his instructions, "You keep the way clear for us in the patrol car."

Stefan ran to his Ford Focus tournament, where he had driven to Paul’s birthday right after finishing his shift. He turned on the flashing blue light and waited with the engine running for the emergency ambulance to finally get going.

They left Gwen’s property via the gravel driveway and first turned left towards the main road. Why did Gwen have to live so far from the city, Stefan pondered as he approached the crossroads to turn right. He looked in the rear-view mirror. They were behind him.

No question about it, this was a beautiful area, a few kilometres northeast of Kiel, but at the back of the world. Nothing but fields, footpaths and peace, Gwen had once raved over it. Now they would certainly have liked to have a hospital nearby and not just eight kilometres away. They were alone on the main road and Stefan stepped on the gas. He wasn’t even fifty years old, hopefully he’d survive, Stefan pondered as he saw the ambulance in his rear-view mirror. He fixed the two high beam lights, which raced towards him at high speed. Cramping, Stefan held the steering wheel of his Barbarix tightly while the lights came closer and closer. Barbarix, that is what he and Gwen affectionately called their blue and white patrol car. They were about the same age and often talked to each other while they were on shifts together. At some point Gwen told him that she was a fan of Barbapappa in her childhood days. A program that was a regular part of the children’s program. Barbarix was the smart blue one. Somehow this suited them, said Gwen, and so they simply christened their vehicle Barbarix. Together they had already experienced many exciting times and solved many difficult cases. They were both just as smart as Barbarix.

This idiot is going to kill himself, Stefan rumbled to himself when he noticed that the car behind them was overtaking the ambulance and himself at a crazy speed. In a split second the car had shot past them. A red Porsche, of course, thought Stefan, and shouted angrily after the speeding car, "You bum, is that necessary?"

Then the Porsche braked off abruptly, as if he had heard it, and turned sharp left into the side street, where he suddenly found himself facing a van. Only an emergency stop of the two cars could avoid a collision. Tires squeaked and a grey-blue stinking cloud of burnt rubber surrounded the two vehicles as they came to a halt.

Stefan opened his eyes in horror and grasped the situation in a split second. He recognized how the red Porsche and a white delivery van with inscription on the sides, had come to a halt only a few meters apart. Both drivers were sitting in their vehicles, startled, but seemed unharmed. The van will be allowed to re-sort its load for the time being, thought Stefan, and obviously they didn’t need his help now. Stefan would have liked to get out of the car to tell the Porsche driver what he thought, but there was no time for that. His friend urgently needed to see a doctor. That was the most important matter. Stefan indicated by a hand signal out of the window to the ambulance behind him that they would continue driving and stepped on the gas.

♦♦♦

The remaining drive to the hospital took less than ten minutes. With squealing tires, the patrol car and the ambulance came to a halt in front of the emergency room. The doctors in the Army hospital had been informed upfront and were already waiting. With a worried expression on her face, Gwen got out of the car and stumbled frantically towards the entrance of the emergency room. Dr Michael Peters opened the back doors of the ambulance, ran to Gwen and took her in his arms. He held her tightly and they turned away from her husband, who was already on the stretcher and on his way to the examination room.

"You must be very brave now, Gwen" Michael whispered and continued. "Your husband had suffered another cardiac arrest while driving. There was nothing we could do, and the last hope is with the doctors here at the hospital."

Gwen let her feelings run free and sobbed loudly. Michael pressed her even tighter and stroked her long curly hair with one hand. Gwen could no longer hold her tears and collapsed in Michael’s arms. They stood like this for several minutes and Michael tried to calm Gwen by soft words and stroking her neck.

"Let’s go inside, you’ll catch a cold" said Stefan, and with the words, "I’ll just drive the car to the parking lot" he disappeared again immediately.

Minutes later Michael, Gwen and Stefan met again in the waiting room. It was a cold and sterile-looking room. Without atmosphere and the white on the walls was anything but reassuring. Only the picture of a sunset hung on one side of the room, which was otherwise only furnished with plastic chairs on the walls and a table in the corner.

Gwen had calmed down a bit and turned to Stefan with a questioning look.

"What will happen if Paul dies now? How am I supposed to live without him? What will happen to Phil? How am I going to balance all this alone?"

Stefan took a step towards Gwen and hugged her, "It doesn’t have to come like that, Gwen, the doctors are doing their best for Paul. You mustn’t lose hope."

Stefan’s words had not yet been fully uttered when the door to the examination room opened and a doctor came out with a sinister expression on his face. Stefan and Michael didn’t suspect anything good, for Gwen it was already certain in this moment. "Nooooooo!" she cried out and her legs failed her service. Stefan caught her just before she hit the ground. He set her down on the next chair. The doctor nodded at Dr Peters to confirm Gwen’s suspicion wordlessly. Then he turned to Gwen, who had barely managed to retain her consciousness.

"I’m very sorry, Mrs Fisher, there was nothing we could do." After a short pause he added, "My sincere condolences for your loss."

Doctors weren’t born speakers either, but what could he have said in this situation, Stefan thought as he continued to try to calm Gwen down. Stefan nodded at Michael to tell him to move closer, because they would have to go back home without Paul to tell Beth and finally Phil the bad news.

Silently, they drove the few kilometres back in the patrol car to Felm, a small village that Paul and Gwen had chosen for their family several years ago. Surrounded by riding stables, woods and fields a wonderful place for an adolescent to run riot and excellent recreational value in the evenings and weekends for the adults with their strenuous jobs during the week. The Kronshagen secondary school, which Phil attended, was halfway to Gwen’s work, so she was always able to combine it well to bring her son to school.

Gwen hadn’t said anything the whole way through. What would become of this idyll now, she thought. What would happen to it without Paul? Gwen burst into tears again. Michael took her in his arms again while Stefan let the car glide through the night. They passed the place where an accident had almost occurred on the way to the hospital. "Luckily nothing happened" mumbled Stefan as he saw that the two vehicles were no longer there.

Phil had already been to bed for several hours when Beth welcomed her daughter at the front door of the house. Her flowered robe was no protection against the November cold, and she was already shivering all over her body when she stepped outside. One look in her daughter’s eyes said it all, and her tremor only intensified when she hugged Gwen. "Tell me it’s not true" she begged.

"There was nothing more they could do for Paul" said Michael, who knew that Gwen was incapable of answering at that moment. "I’m so sorry for you both. Let’s go inside. It’s very cold tonight."

Sunday, November 18th, 2012, 03:20 am

'A good deed every day', his parents had hammered into him. Mark Stein was happy and in a state of greatest inner satisfaction. Although it was late, he had finally done his good deed for today. Now he was tired. After he had parked his car in the garage, he only wanted to go home and to bed. Mark was tall, about 6'3" and strongly built, not fat, and well trained. His long legs carried him quickly back to the settlement where his small apartment was located. In the old buildings there was no luxury like an underground garage or parking spaces. Whoever came first, was able to get hold of one of the few parking spaces along the road. This luck was seldom granted to Mark and it had always annoyed him to have to walk to his garage before he could drive his car to work, even in winter times and in bad weather.

Well after midnight Mark entered his one-room apartment almost silently as not to wake the neighbours in the house. It was a small but very tidy refuge with everything he needed to live. A small bathroom, sparsely furnished with white furniture from the supermarket, a combined living/bedroom with a pull-out couch and a small kitchen. Mark lived alone since he had moved out of his parents’ house. He could not imagine a woman at his side at the moment. He lived for his job. Day in, day out, always the same routine, but he filled it with pride and satisfaction. He could really do some good here, every day.

Although Mark was tired, he decided to spend a little more time with his friends on the Internet. After all, he had been neglecting them a bit the last few days. But it had been for a good reason. After Mark had entered his apartment, he immediately went to his computer on the small desk and turned it on. While the aged computer booted, he could wash his hands calmly, dress in something more comfortable and get a beer from the fridge. Mark sat down in his old office chair in front of the computer, which was now already waiting for the next commands. Routinely he moved the mouse over the symbol and started the program. Mark rubbed his eyes, stretched himself and when he looked at the screen again, the dazzling world of the Internet had already built up on his monitor and he was able to log in.

His hands flitted across the keyboard in somnambulistic certainty as he entered his username and password. He had done this several hundred times before and his fingers knew the movements by heart without making a mistake.

Username: Miss Gore

Password: ********

The program welcomed him.

Welcome back Miss Gore.

Your last visit was 3 days and 6 hours ago.

A smile came from Mark’s lips as he read the greeting. His full Avatar name was Miranda Gore. But that was too long for him, and he had shortened his username to Miss Gore to reflect his dominant nature. Miranda was the name of his mother. He had learned so much from her. How to behave in society, what to do and what not to do and that you had to do a good deed every day. He had anticipated his parents, and especially his mothers, every wish and always behaved as they expected him to. Already in his school days he had never been a burden to his teachers. He had always done his homework, was at school on time, had never disturbed and was always very devoted to the tasks his teachers gave him. He liked to remember the biology lesson in which they were supposed to dissect a frog. Some of the girls had cried and refused to take part. Other boys had vomited when they saw a drop of blood. Mark smiled at the thought of how he had made the first cut and the teacher praised him in front of the whole class. Somehow the blood didn’t bother him because he had a job to do. He would have liked to become a doctor, but his school grades didn’t allow him to take this step at the end of his school days, so he threw himself into an education instead. Even today he could still remember the teacher’s praise, and this was also decisive for the second part of his username. 'Gore' stood for coagulated blood and the act of slicing. This always reminded him of the poor frog and his open belly after he had precisely placed the first cut.

Let’s see who’s still awake at this time, Mark said to himself and started typing.

[Miss Gore]: Good evening, is anyone here?

A minute passed, then another. Finally, the hoped-for answer came.

[Priscilla]: Oh, yes, my lady, your servant is here.

With Priscilla, Mark has already had fun for a few weeks. In reality, SHE was a HE. Mark had discovered this quickly, especially since he was also of the opposite sex and knew the clues with which the guys usually betrayed themselves. He himself had never made a secret of his true sex. Quite contrary to his fellow players, because they didn’t give a name, no hint of the real sex and no information from their real life. But they quickly gained confidence in Mark and over time this also loosened their tongues. It’s amazing how much people revealed about themselves when they felt safe in the protection of anonymity on the Internet.

[Miss Gore]: Welcome my slave. You’re still awake?

[Priscilla]: Yes, my lady. Your girl couldn’t sleep and couldn’t stop thinking about you.

[Miss Gore]: That’s nice to hear, but why can’t you sleep?

[Priscilla]: My thoughts keep circling around a topic

[Miss Gore]: WHAT DID I TEACH YOU? YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!

[Priscilla]: Lady, please don’t be angry. You have taught your slave that nothing belongs to her. Nor her thoughts. It should’ve said, "Your girl’s thoughts keep circling around a topic, my lady."

The answer was not forthcoming.

[Priscilla]: Mistress, please don’t be angry with your slave girl, it’s late.

[Miss Gore]: YOU PIECE OF DIRT, are you trying to save your skin with excuses and justifications now?

[Priscilla]: Mistress, your slave was very disobedient and deserves a lesson for that.

[Miss Gore]: Finally, some truth from your mouth. Before I make up a lesson for you, let me hear what your thoughts were.

[Priscilla]: That slave girl can’t stop thinking about being eaten by Mistress Gore.

Mark was wide awake again. Had he read correctly? Yes, Priscilla was dreaming of cannibalism. Mark instinctively felt, that he had to help this person. Whoever this really was, Mark had to find it out.

[Miss Gore]: My slave, you know that I can help you make this wish come true?

[Priscilla]: Yes, my lady. Please! In order that your girl can sleep well again.

Mark was thinking feverishly. There had to be a way to figure out who was really on the other end of the line. That he was living in the northern part of Germany had been known to Mark on other occasions. After this expression of will it was now time to find out the exact address. Perhaps the punishment he was begging for was the best way to do this.

[Miss Gore]: Well, you’re just going to have to be a little patient for that. For today, you will be given another task that will help you sleep well. And it will teach you to always follow your mistress’ instructions.

[Priscilla]: Anything Mistress Gore wants; your girl will do it.

[Miss Gore]: I’m glad to hear that. I expect a picture of you hurting yourself. Take a picture with your phone and send it to me. You know the e-mail address. Slash your thigh with a sharp knife. I want to see blood!

Mark wondered whether this was a bit too brisk, while waiting for Priscilla’s answer. He’d had many such conversations. They all followed the same pattern. An offence was confessed or even deliberately provoked. Mark then had to play the outraged mistress and could make up a punishment. Mostly they were tasks that could be done in real life as well as in the game. But no matter, in both cases Mark could assume that his fellow players toyed around with themselves and were aroused in real life. So, the answers took time. Then finally the typing started again, and the reaction appeared on his screen.

[Priscilla]: Of course, my lady. May your slave girl perform the task right now?

[Miss Gore]: Yeah, leave and don’t come back until you send me that photo.

Mark leaned back in his chair with pleasure as he logged out. He stretched, looked at his watch and realized that it had got late again. But he had finished all his tasks for today. With a great feeling he switched off the computer and went to bed.

♦♦♦

Sven Honnick ran his hand through his three-day beard and thought about what he should do now. In his job as branch manager of a savings bank, people expected him to set the tone all week long. Now this bitch from the Internet was giving him orders. But that was exactly what he was longing for. Not always knowing an answer to everything and thinking ahead about the next steps, but to let yourself be guided for a moment. Too many times he had wished for this and now he had finally found someone to give him the direction. He did not want to disappoint her. Sven got up and went quietly into the kitchen so as not to wake his wife and little son.

Gallantly Sven moved forward silently. He was in good shape, in his mid-forties and looked almost ten years younger. His young-at-heart manner came from all the sports he did in his spare time. What he liked best were the endless running routes around the nearby lakes. He lived with his family in a detached house in the northern part of Germany, just outside the state capital of Kiel. Sven and Lara Honnick had moved here eight years ago to start a family. The offered position as branch manager had been decisive for both. So, all they had to do was searching for a new job for Lara. She found it as an educator in a nearby day-care centre. Two years ago, her son Lukas was born. Lara’s job had the advantage that they didn’t have to look for a nanny for the little one, but Lukas was together with his mother in the day-care centre every day.

Sven reached the kitchen and inspected the knifes. Determined, he grabbed a long, slim boning one, which he had sharpened only last weekend. On the way back through the bathroom to his study, Sven again made no noise at all, so that minutes later he was sitting on his desk chair, naked and visibly excited. In front of him on the tabletop he had the knife, a handkerchief and a plaster from the bathroom, as well as his mobile phone ready. He inhaled and exhaled slowly and stroked slowly repeatedly over his stiffening penis. His mistress had demanded that he should make a cut on his thigh. If he had to be big or deep, Sven thought about it, but then decided for the light version. He activated the mobile phone camera in his left hand and took the knife in the other. Then he carefully placed the blade on his thigh. Sven took a deep breath and slowly pulled the sharp blade over his skin. A stabbing pain went through him and his cock twitched from the excitement. Sven pressed the shutter release of the camera. Once, twice, three times. Then he put down the camera and the knife, dabbed the blood drops away with the handkerchief and massaged his aroused cock. He needed only a few more movements before Sven ejaculated into the handkerchief and sagged down in his chair, satisfied.

His excitement quickly subsided, and he single-mindedly realized the next steps he still had to take as Priscilla. In no time the pictures were copied from his mobile phone to his computer and an electronic message was sent to Miranda_1989.Gore@gmail.com. Relieved, Sven shut down the computer, disposed of the bloody paper tissue and put the cleaned knife back into the kitchen. Then he lay down in bed with his wife and stared at the ceiling. What will the next tasks be, Sven rejoiced and fell asleep thinking about them.

Sunday, November 18th, 2012, 11:10 am

Gwen sat at her son’s bedside. How could she tell him? How would she answer him if he wanted to know what was going to happen? On her return from the hospital, Beth had reported that Phil had only fallen asleep early in the morning. Now it was almost Sunday afternoon and the low November sun was flooding her house. It was time to get up, Gwen pondered and gently stroked her son over his head. He grumbled and blinked sleepily at her. As the memories of last night made their way through his mind, Phil jumped up and was wide awake.

"Where’s Daddy?"

Gwen held her breath. She didn’t think he would get to the point so quickly. Slowly she began to report. "We were in the emergency room last night. The doctors all acted very quickly, but Dad had no chance. "Daddy won’t be coming home, sweetheart. Now it’s just you and me."

"You lie! It can’t be! Daddy’s only had his birthday, and he’s only forty-six.

"Phil, it’s as hard for me to accept this as it is for you, but Dad is really … dead." Gwen swallowed to keep from crying out of desperation. She had to be strong now. Phil couldn’t get out a word and pressed his face into his pillow. Gwen put her hand on his shoulder.

"Leave me alone! You should have saved him. You were in the hospital with him. Phil was sobbing deeply. "Your doctor-friend was there, too. Why did you let him die?" 'Doctor-friend' Phil had called Michael. There was nothing between them. Why would he think that?

"Darling, Michael had acted immediately. You mustn’t blame him. And Stefan even drove ahead of the ambulance to clear the streets. "We all did everything we could. We never had a chance. Please understand that."

"Go away! Leave me alone!" Gwen gave her son a worried look and stood up.

"I’ll make us a nice breakfast. If you’re hungry, just come down to the kitchen." Phil didn’t say anything and just buried his face deeper into his pillow.

Gwen sat emotionlessly on the couch in the living room and stared at the display cabinet on the opposite wall as Phil stepped out of his teenage bedroom and crept down the stairs. With red puffy eyes he glanced at his mother and went wordlessly into the kitchen. Gwen considered for a moment whether she should speak to him but decided against it. He should calm down first. She heard a clatter in the kitchen and saw Phil walking back toward his room with a slice of bread and heard him closing the door behind him. As if paralyzed, she continued to sit on the couch and thought about what to do next. The hours passed agonizingly slowly, and Gwen couldn’t motivate herself to do anything or even think a clear, concentrated thought.

Around 6:00 pm, Gwen decided to make another advance. She knocked tentatively on Phil’s room door. When she received no answer, she carefully opened the door.

"Phil? How you doing? What are you doing?"

Phil sat at his desk at the computer and played. He didn’t look up when his mother entered the room.

"Honey, let’s talk, please."

"That won’t bring him back either!" mumbled Phil in return. "And I don’t want to live without him either."

"You mustn’t say such things. We must now stick together. The two of us, you and me. We’re the team now, and we’ve got to stick together. I need you!"

"But I don’t need you. I want my father back. You can’t help me."

"But that’s not possible" Gwen replied tenderly and continued. "You know that, too. What can I do to show you that I am always here for you?"

"I don’t want to talk about it today" Phil replied resignedly, without looking up from his game. "I am tired and have to go back to school in the morning. I’m going to bed soon."

"OK, please let me know if you need anything, and if I can do anything. I love you."

Gwen left the room to curl up in a blanket on the living room couch again. Tired and introverted, she stared at the display cabinet again, thinking about tomorrow. She fell asleep.

Monday, November 19th, 2012, 06:45 am

The display showed 06:45 am when the alarm clock woke Mark up, first quietly and then increasingly louder. Determined, he started his computer and then freshened up in the bathroom while the computer was booting. The symbol for new mail appeared and brought a smile to Mark’s tired face. As he hastily devoured a slice of bread, he opened the new message expectantly.

Priscilla had done the job properly and sent him a photograph. Now he’s hooked, thought Mark, saved the picture on his hard drive and printed it out.

"Let’s see if you’re familiar with technology" Mark murmured softly to himself, invoking the extended properties of the image. A mischievous smile played around his mouth as he found what he was looking for. Cell phones often stored the coordinates of where they were taken. As helpful as this might be later in assigning the images to locations where they were taken, if you didn’t want anyone else to get their hands on this information, it shouldn’t be in the images. Priscilla obviously hadn’t thought of it or hadn’t understood it that far. Well done, Mark thought, copied the location data from the image and pasted it back into the search mask on Google Maps. Just fractions of a second later, the map view opened with the location of the picture marked. Perfect! Mark grinned. It was a detached house near his own home.

He’d deal with that later. Now he had to hurry to get to his work and help the people there. He noticed that he was still sitting in front of the computer in his undies. Mark laughed, turned off the computer and dressed in his work clothes. He didn’t need to comb his short light brown hair as it almost fell into shape by itself. He quickly packed some more fruit for the day and hastily stepped out into the hall. The way to his garage was very slippery as the floor was still frozen. But these were good circumstances, thought Mark, because that way he didn’t have to worry too much about the police finding the tire tracks he had inevitably left at the scene. He was very curious to see how long it would take them to find his work and locked the front door.

Monday, November 19th, 2012, 06:45 am

Gwen’s alarm clock also showed 06:45 am when the alarm started at full volume in the bedroom. Awake by the alarm clock next door, Phil staggered out of his room, drowsy, and disappeared into his mother’s bedroom. He turned off the alarm clock and only now realized the empty bed. Probably she had fallen asleep in the living room in front of the TV again, as so often. Phil crept into the living room on the ground floor and saw his mother lying on the couch.

"Mama! The alarm clock rang!" Phil was not yet able to do more in the early morning. He staggered back upstairs and into the bathroom.

Gwen was terribly tired. How long had she been asleep? She’d dreamt about the hospital and about Paul dying. Was it just a bad dream? She regained consciousness and was hit with all the force of reality. She was a widow, a single mother of a teenage son. Why had fate been so serious with her?

"Mum, you have to get up too!" cried Phil from the upper floor, who had finished in the bathroom by now and disappeared back into his room.

"Yes, my love, I’m awake. Thank you."

After Gwen had also freshened up in the bathroom, she prepared breakfast for the two of them in the kitchen. They had treated themselves to the fitted kitchen for their twentieth wedding anniversary. At that time, Paul wanted a stove that you could walk around. Since her kitchen was of a suitable size, this was possible without any problems. On one side there was a kind of counter, which they often used to have breakfast standing up or sitting on the bistro chair. So, they did not always have to bring all breakfast utensils to the dining room next door.

"Phil, where are you? Breakfast is ready and we have to go in a moment!"

Paul had always loved to cook, which was a huge relief for Gwen. When he came home in the evening, he often spontaneously bought little treats and cooked a meal for the family. Nothing laborious, but always exciting, tasty and unusual. Gwen had never been a great cook and never made a secret of it. But she was a gifted baker. She loved to bake cakes, pies and cookies. She was always at her best at Christmas, but this year would be different. Advent was just around the corner and it was all supposed to be so reflective. Now Gwen had to concentrate on other tasks first.

"Phil! Hello? Damn it, we’re going to be late!" Phil trotted down the stairs, his school bag shuffling along behind him on his long arm.

"Here, your bread for the break. We don’t have time now. Do me a favour and eat this one sandwich before school starts. You need something in your stomach!" Hectically, Gwen left the house and pushed her lazy son in front of her to the car parked in the driveway. She turned the ignition key in the lock and heard – nothing! Again. Again. "Son of a bitch!" it slipped from her mouth. She, who was always so much in control. "You got to be kidding me. It’s like everything is conspiring against us today."

"Mom, I have to go to school" Phil timidly remarked.

"Gosh! I can make many things happen, but I can’t perform magic either. The car won’t start! You realize that, don’t you?" This was more of a rhetorical question, to which Gwen didn’t really expect an answer, nor did she hope to. She was already upset enough.

She grabbed her phone and started a speed dial. After two rings, he picked up.

"Good morning Gwen, it’s Stefan, what’s up at this hour?"

"Hi, Stefan. I’m glad I caught you. It’s all conspired against us. Phil has to get to school, we’re late, I’m late for work, and now this damn car won’t start." Gwen took a deep breath and added close to tears, "… and Paul is no longer there to help us."

"For now, just calm down. I’ll be right over to help you. Maybe it’s just a bagatelle."

"That’s very kind of you. Thank you so much. I don’t even know what to say."

"Best go back into the house. I’ll be with you in fifteen minutes. Have another coffee and calm down, Gwen. Everything will be fine. See you soon." Then they hung up.

"Come on Phil, let’s go back into the house. I’ll call your teacher and tell her you’ll be late." Half-hearted Phil took his bags and trotted into the house after his mother.

About twenty minutes later, Gwen heard a car entering the gravel driveway. It was Stefan. The crazy guy had come with Barbarix, her patrol car.

"Phil? You coming? Stefan’s here. We’re driving you to school, and he’s taking me to work." Shuffling, Phil came down the stairs. Like every minute he had free, he was drawn right back to his computer. It was very difficult to separate him from it. At the front door Stefan picked them both up. Phil got big eyes when he saw the police car.

"Shall we drive with flashing lights?" he asked with a grin.

"Only if you want to get to school quickly, young man" Stefan said, with the emphasis on 'quickly'.

Phil pondered briefly and countered, "Mommy has to go to work, it’s urgent because it’s more important!" He smiled at Stefan.

"Then we must hurry, or your mother’s work will escape your attention. Get in!" The blue light flickered ghostly in the early mist of that cold and dark November day. The day had begun as bleakly as Gwen felt. As the siren broke the morning silence in the country, Gwen saw a smile on Phil’s face through the rear-view mirror. For the first time since the birthday party two days ago, Gwen thought and rejoiced. Barbarix’s tires didn’t immediately grip the gravel bed, but then the power of the engine unfolded and pushed the three occupants into their seats – on their way to school.

♦♦♦

Twenty-five minutes later they reached the state office of criminal investigation after dropping Phil off at Kronshagen secondary school. Stefan couldn’t drive all the time with the activated siren without getting a reprimand from his superior if he had found out. But the smile of the boy had been worth it. The city traffic was already increasing currently, but the shortcuts from Phil’s school to the LKA were still not very busy.

"We still managed to do that, didn’t we?" Stefan asked and added, "… neither Phil nor you escaped from work." He looked at her with a winking eye and smiled. He felt the cosy warmth rising in his stomach again. He had often enjoyed this feeling when he was in the field with Gwen. She was an attractive woman and exactly his type, but she was married. At this point it had always been clear to Stefan that he would not continue to woo her. He respected her far too much. But now the tide had turned. Appalled by his own thoughts, Stefan immediately stopped all considerations. How did he come to think like that? His colleague had only been a widow for thirty-two hours and had lost her beloved husband. Now she certainly had other worries than trying to find a new partner. He would keep his feelings to himself and not jeopardize the professional relationship they had had for years.

"Indeed! Thanks for your quick help, Stefan. I hate to ask, but it would be great if you could give me a ride home this evening. I’ll call the automobile club. Hopefully it’s just a bagatelle as you said." After a short pause, she added, "What would I have done yesterday and today without you?"

"I was happy to help you, Gwen. No problem. I’m happy to drive you home tonight, too. We can work it out. Just tell me where I can help you. That’s what partners are for."

"You helped us so much last night. That you were just there. That was so important to me. I know I can count on you, but I don’t want to push it."

"Don’t let it trouble you. I’ll let you know if it gets too much for me" Stefan replied to her. Inside he thought that it would never be too much for him. On the contrary, he wanted more from her.

Gwen ripped Stefan from his thoughts.

"I’ll call the automobile club and make an appointment for tonight. Also, I must take care of my mother and Phil for now. She will surely pick him up from school again and then bring him home. I’ll ask her to stay with him this afternoon until we get home."

"Greet her for me, and I think we can be there by 6:00 pm. Now we must get something done. I have to see Department 23 about the counterfeit money story at the gas station. Maybe they already got something on it." Stefan didn’t want his feelings for Gwen to grow any stronger at that moment, so he turned around and left her standing in the corridor outside her office.

Tuesday, November 20th, 2012, 06:30 pm

Exhausted from a long day at work, Mark returned to his small bachelor apartment. These twelve-hour shifts are not so easy to get through, thought Mark. The best thing to do now would be a short visit on the Internet. As almost every evening, he first switched on his computer so that it could boot up while he freshened up and put on more comfortable clothes.

After the login screen, the system greeted him with the familiar words:

Welcome back, Miss Gore. It’s been a day and 16 hours since your last visit.

As the screen built up, Mark quickly realized that his friends were online. Priscilla was there and another strangely dressed guy. Supposed to be some kind of superman, Mark pondered as he pushed the mouse back and forth. Finally, he started typing.

[Miss Gore]: Good evening, my beautiful slave. I am very happy to see you. You have been obedient!

[Priscilla]: Good evening, yes, my lady. Your servant has sent the photograph as requested. Is it to your satisfaction?

[Miss Gore]: In fact, it’s exactly what I expected you to do. You’ve made up for a lot.

[Priscilla]: Thank you, my lady, it’s good to receive a compliment from you. In real life, that girl rarely hears anything like that.

This seemed to indicate direct communication. Mark paused briefly and then replied on the private channel. It had the advantage that none of those present could read this conversation.

[(p) Miss Gore]: At home or at work?

Priscilla, who understood immediately, also replied in private, which was indicated by a small '(p)' in the chat window to protect their privacy.

[(p) Priscilla]: At work and at home, mistress.

[(p) Miss Gore]: Why aren’t you being praised?

[(p) Priscilla]: There is no one above this girl who could praise at work and at home this girl has not much to say …

[(p) Miss Gore]: Do you run a business?

[(p) Priscilla]: Yes, branch manager of a savings bank.

[(p) Miss Gore]: Well, then you’ve earned your commendations here.

Mark knew from many previous conversations how to extract some personal information from his human counterparts, even if he was only displayed on the screen as an Avatar. You just had to send the right signals at the right time and react accordingly. It was so simple.

[(p) Priscilla]: That’s very kind of you, mistress.

[(p) Miss Gore]: So, you have a partner at home? Do you have to help around the house a lot?

[(p) Priscilla]: Yes, Miss, there is a partner, but the work is distributed in her favour. We get a lot of packages and this girl must stop by the packing station all the time to take the parcels home. There’s very little praise for that.

Mark smiled, because once again he had received details of Priscilla’s life without much effort. That was enough for today. Actively he did not want to ask any further questions in order not to appear curious. But now it was time to get to know Priscilla’s companion.

[(p) Miss Gore]: You poor thing. But tell me, who did you bring here today?

[(p) Priscilla]: Oh, mistress, this is a new friend. We met at a slave auction the other day. He calls himself 'Darkwing'!

A slave auction – he hadn’t been there for a long time – Mark pondered over Priscilla’s words. These virtual auctions in which submissive slaves and servants were 'sold' to dominant mistresses and masters. Here he often met with his former companions to buy new slaves. In the meantime, however, he became more enthusiastic about the connection between the virtual world and reality. Today he was interested in this new guy who was on the road with Priscilla. In this artificial world it was possible to move around in a virtual body, which you could design according to your own ideas. A man could represent a woman or vice versa. Physical proportions could also be adjusted at will, so that very reserved wallflowers could become dominant rulers in the virtual world.

Mark began to cast his net, as he had done many times before. Under the cover of anonymity, many players were willing to trust strangers and disburden their hearts. In just under half an hour of conversation, partly private and partly public, Mark, aka Miss Gore, had already learned several details about the newcomer’s life. His name in real life was Jens-Gerwin, or Jens for short, as his friends called him. In the illusory world he was his own sex, but he surely improved his appearance a bit, because no human being was that muscular in the real world. Mark also learned that Jens was very alone. He had neither wife nor children and liked to spend his free time with prostitutes, whom he usually welcomed at his home. With them he could live out his special fondness for beatings and flogging. It was just a question of money. But this was less of a problem for Jens-Gerwin, because he earned very well as a computer expert. That’s exactly how Mark imagined him – as a nerd. A computer enthusiast, without a girlfriend, not unkempt, but also without cutting-edge haircut or clothes.

Satisfied, Mark swung himself up from his computer after saying goodbye to both. He had learned enough for today and felt very comfortable with the thought of doing another good deed soon. And he already had an idea how he could do it.

♦♦♦

Kay was very thirsty. His throat was as if dried out and his tongue stuck to his palate. He hardly noticed his surroundings and most of the time he was already slightly dazed. Almost three days had passed since the lunatic had unloaded him here in his narrow cage, like a piece of cattle. The tape still sealed his mouth as effectively as three days ago so that he could not make any sound. After seemingly endless attempts he had finally found a position where he didn’t have to endure so much pain anymore. His arms and hands behind his back were now numb. He hadn’t felt his handcuffs for hours. Every possibility, no matter how small, to draw attention to himself, had been taken away and Kay was constantly thinking about his next step.

The windows were closed and only a small incidence of light let him guess whether it was day or night. Otherwise the room was dark. Kay concentrated on the smells and sounds around him. It smelled of fertilizer and earth. He could also sense the smell of petrol or thinner. The noises surrounding him were farther away and very quiet. Every now and then he could hear the screaming of children, like from a kindergarten or a school. Car noises could be heard from time to time in the distance. It was also rather cars and not so often trucks. Otherwise there was not much that he could hear. With whom should he make himself noticeable, if nobody was around? The situation seemed hopeless to him. Kay thought of his wife. This time with love and melancholy. He was no longer so sure to see her again. Why had he not said goodbye and taken her in his arms the last time he had left the shared apartment? But she had become more and more distant lately. Perhaps their behaviour had influenced each other, Kay wondered. Less attention from his side didn’t expect much affection from his wife either. He concluded that the relationship as it was now with his wife had been caused by himself. As he pursued his thoughts, he nodded off again and again. The thirst bothered him most. Why was he even here? What exactly had happened? Kay could hardly concentrate. The more he thought, the more headaches he got. Suddenly it all became clear to him. Now he knew why the stranger had told him that he would only grant him his own wishes. It all made sense and Kay recognized frighteningly clearly what fate lay ahead of him. He would have to die.

Tuesday, November 20th, 2012, 06:30 pm

"I am home" Gwen’s voice echoed through her otherwise lively home. It was quiet today. Gwen hung her coat up on the coat rack and went into the kitchen to make herself a coffee. She loved the smell of freshly brewed coffee after a long day at work. She looked at the clock, which was already showing after 6:00 pm, and wondered why her mother hadn’t become noticeable.

Beth was quite family oriented. As a young girl, she lived in Ireland together with her husband Eric. They both had big plans. They wanted to have at least three children and all of them should live together with them under one roof. This is how Elisabeth had always imagined it. When Eric received an offer from his employer to go to Germany, they immediately took up the offer. Beth became pregnant and everything was perfect until that gloomy December day that cost Eric his life. There were barely six weeks left until Gwendolyn’s birth, when in the evening Eric went off the icy road and both his journey and life ended at an ancient oak tree. Beth was in a similar situation back then as Gwen is today, and worried about her future. What is to become? How would they make ends meet? How could she ensure the care of the new-born child? Admittedly, Phil was out of the woods by now, but the same thoughts had been with Gwen when Beth’s past was repeated in Paul’s death. Beth had been in the fortunate position of having her own mother step in to take over Gwen’s care while Beth went to work and brought home the money she needed. Beth had been there for her daughter all these years, trying to make her life as carefree as possible. Circumstances were not always the best, and Beth had never found a new life partner. The more she was pleased when Paul came into Gwen’s life and Gwen became pregnant. The prospect of becoming a grandmother really spurred her on. Lisbeth had always remained a part of the family and so it was not surprising that she was allowed to take over Phil’s day care. Even later, when Phil came to school, Beth was there for her grandson, picked him up from school and cooked lunch. Despite her seventy-two years, she was still agile and fit to hold a candle to Phil. Paul’s death changed everything for Gwen, Beth knew that only too well and she always assisted her daughter. She was always family oriented and one could count on her.

"Mom? Beth? Are you there?" Irritated, Gwen walked around the kitchen’s cooking island and entered the living room through the dining room. "Oh, you’re here" whispered Gwen as she found her mother asleep on the couch. She placed her coffee cup on the coffee table and sat down next to her mother before gently waking her up. "Hey, Mom, I’m home. You were asleep. Is everything okay? Is Phil upstairs?" Beth opened her eyes, still sleepy, but she was happy to see her daughter.

"Yes, he was in his room all day. He played, read, and was on the computer. Somehow, he didn’t want to go out again today or do anything else but playing on his computer. He couldn’t even be inspired to go for an ice cream." Sadly, Gwen gave her mother a hug.

"No, he mourns in his own way. I understand him very well and I’ll go see how he’s doing."

"It’s about time I got home. I’ll just pack up and let you guys get together for the evening. Give my grandson a kiss of me. I’ll see you tomorrow." Gwen hugged her mother again, gave her a kiss on the cheek and went upstairs with a queasy feeling to check on her son.

Gwen always respected her son’s privacy. This was an unwritten agreement they had made. If he wanted to withdraw, he could do so whenever he wanted. No ifs, ands, or buts. No questions. Everybody had a bad day and needed their rest. The last few days Phil had always disappeared immediately into his room without making an attempt to talk to his mother. And Beth had apparently not been able to get through to her only grandson today either. Gwen paused outside the door for a moment and wondered whether she should enter without being asked. The door was only ajar and there was no sound from Phil’s room. Only a faint glimmer shone into the corridor, which was illuminated only by a night light on the stairs and from the dining room on the ground floor. Gwen struggled with herself but then gave herself a jolt, knocked briefly and entered. Phil lay on the bed and read. Only his bedside lamp made the small room appear in a yellowish light. The room was simply furnished. There was a wardrobe, a desk where Phil could do his homework and his computer was on it. Next to it was the bed and a bedside table. Everything was bought from IKEA as requested. Phil liked the funny names of the furniture, once he had established his fondness for IKEA furniture.

He looked so sad, Gwen thought, and she guessed that the book was just an excuse. For sure Phil had been at the computer just before, whirring along quietly, waiting for orders. The light from the computer screen and the bedside lamp produced a dim light that made Gwen feel uneasy. Still, she sat on the edge of the bed with her son and looked through the window into the darkness. The November evening had already passed over the fields and the oak tree standing in front of Phil’s window was dimly lit by the moon. A shiver ran down Gwen’s spine and she looked at her son.

"Hey, how’s my big guy?" she asked after a while and put her hand on his legs.

"Mm-hmm, okay!" Phil lay huddled on his side and didn’t bother to get chatty.

"How was your day? Did you experience anything exciting?" He just shook his head. Gently, Gwen stroked his calves and tickled the sole of his foot. Phil pulled his feet back jerkily.

"Cut it out! I don’t want this now!" he hissed. Gwen frowned and tried to interpret his reaction. She took a deep breath in and out.

"I’ll make something delicious for dinner. Please come down when you’re ready."

Why did everything have to be so difficult, it went through her mind. Hopefully it would clear up in the next few days. She couldn’t keep it up very long. With her hands Gwen pushed herself off the bed and stood up. She looked at her son who, absorbed in the book, lay motionless on his bed and thought about what she should say. She couldn’t think of the right words, so she kept quiet. She went out of the room and left the door again ajar.

Beth had already left. She didn’t want to stay for dinner every night. She didn’t want to be a burden on her daughter. Gwen had never felt this way, but she didn’t want a fight with her mother, so she kept quiet. While the milk for the cocoa was getting hot in the microwave and Gwen was breaking the eggs into the pan to make scrambled eggs, she heard those strange noise coming from Phil’s room upstairs again. Sounds she had heard many times before in the last few days. Phil was back to his favourite pastime when he needed to calm down. He played on the computer. Gwen knew that for Phil this was his way of relaxing. For herself she could not get anything out of the computer. At the LKA she only did the most necessary things and at home she wasn’t really in the mood for sitting in front of a computer. She preferred to read books for relaxation or watch TV. In general, the whole world of computers was not so easy for her. Maybe it was exactly this fear and her lack of understanding of this technology that made her refuse to deal with it even a little more than necessary. How often had her son asked her taking a computer course at the adult education centre, but it never came to that. She had Paul. He took care of all matters concerning consumer electronics and the computer world. All that mattered to Gwen was that devices worked. How and why was the same to her. Now she was standing there with a computer she could just turn on, but it didn’t help her otherwise. Paul was no longer there. Gwen noticed how the air she was breathing was suddenly gone again, how her eyes filled with tears and how her hands began to tremble. She had to sit down, and her tears of sadness were now flowing unchecked. A quiet sob was all that came out of her throat. Under no circumstances did she want to bring Phil into the picture. She had to be strong now. But she could not. Not at this moment. She closed her eyes and dreamt as tears ran down her cheeks.

The ringing of the microwave called Gwen back to the present. She dried her tears, took a deep breath and cried out in a husky voice, "Phil, dinner’s ready! Are you coming?"

Friday, November 23rd, 2012, 07:05 pm

Friday evening – finally, thought Mark and sat down at the computer full of expectation. The last days had been very exhausting and he hadn’t found the time to be online. But he didn’t feel that was a bad thing, as he had an almost infinite number of opportunities to do good deeds every day at work. This brought the necessary satisfaction in his life. But now once again the long and very lonely weekend lay ahead of him. The chance of providing a great service to someone in the real world during this weekend was very small – the Internet was the only hope.

Mark lived alone in his small apartment. He hadn’t had a steady for a long time. He often pondered what might be the reason for this while he stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom and washed himself. He was already in his early thirties, tall, slim and well trained. This was very beneficial for his job. It was not even necessary to go to the gym. His muscles developed all by themselves while he was only doing his job. He had well-groomed, short brown hair and blue eyes that looked at him in the mirror. Maybe it was his eyes, Mark thought. They were ice-blue, cold eyes that stared at him mercilessly. Those who didn’t know him and knew that he was basically a kind and helpful person, perhaps saw a threat in his penetrating gaze. His eyes could be like two swords that effortlessly cut their way through their counterpart. It could well be that the women around him were frightened off by this very thing. Every time he had made contact with a young woman, she had avoided his gaze as if she feared he might pierce her with his eyes. He had never actually been with a girlfriend for a longer period. There was never more than one dinner or a movie.

Mark had moved out of his parents’ home at the beginning of his education and had lived in seclusion in his apartment ever since. He had gotten it into his head to get a job in the care sector. After many endless rounds of applications, he finally got lucky and the personnel manager congratulated him on his engagement. Unfortunately, his initial euphoria was quickly dampened as the working atmosphere left a lot to be desired. He could never please his superior. His boss always had something to criticize about Mark’s work. Mark struggled hard with his humiliations during this time and finally looked for a balance, a kind of valve to relieve his tension.

His system was now ready to go and greeted him after the registration with the words:

Welcome back, Miss Gore. It’s been two days and 23 hours since your last visit.

[Miss Gore]: Good evening, Darkwing.

[Darkwing]: Good evening, Miss Gore. I trust you had a pleasant day.

[Miss Gore]: Thanks for asking, my dear friend. Where is our mutual friend Priscilla?

[Darkwing]: I’m sorry to disappoint you, I don’t know. I haven’t seen her in a while. But it’s the weekend now. Maybe she can arrange to come back.

[Miss Gore]: It may be so.

[Darkwing]: Let’s hope the best.

Petty banter wasn’t Mark’s cup of tea if it didn’t serve the purpose, so he decided to make a direct advance.

[Miss Gore]: Have you been with one of your prostitutes again in the meantime or have you been saving yourself for me?

Obviously, Jens-Gerwin was amazed by this quick and direct change of topic. After he had gathered himself, he typed again.

[Darkwing]: I’ve been saving myself for you, Miss, hoping to see you here again today.

Mark smiled contentedly, got up and got a cold beer from the fridge. When he came back the answer had been extended.

[Darkwing]: I’m so hot I need a whuppin', Miss.

Mark remembered that in the last session Jens told them about his preference for prostitutes who he liked to be dominated by. Being whipped was one of his favourite ways.

[Miss Gore]: I’m not one of your prostitutes that you can order to do whatever you want.

[Darkwing]: No, Miss, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.

[Miss Gore]: I understand you very well, but before I deal with you further, I demand proof of your devotion Darkwing!

[Darkwing]: Anything you say, Miss.

[Miss Gore]: Very good. I’ll give you an order soon to take a picture and send it to me. Until the photo is here, you will not go to any of these hookers or touch and satisfy yourself. I want you to get really hot!

[Darkwing]: Yes, Miss, I understand.

Miss Gore’s energetic appearance left Jens-Gerwin no choice but to give in. Jens had never experienced anything like this in this virtual world and he wished with all his heart that these role plays would continue endlessly. Jens followed this train of thought very rationally. He would save a lot of money if he no longer had to go to prostitutes to pursue his passion. He liked this role play more and more and it had many more advantages. It was hygienic, free, anonymous and safe. What could happen, Jens thought. Who would recognize me here? It is anonymous!

♦♦♦

Sven’s week had been exhausting and he had not had time to be online. But today he took the time and hoped that he could now see his friends again. He logged in and materialized in the virtual world. His gaze wandered around and he could see Darkwing and Miss Gore in some distance. He went over to them. Both seemed engrossed in conversation just as he came within earshot.

[Miss Gore]: … get really hot!

[Darkwing]: Yes, Miss, I understand.

The two noticed him and fell silent for a moment.

[Priscilla]: Good evening, my lady. Good evening, Darkwing.

[Miss Gore]: Well, well, well. Look who’s here.

[Darkwing]: Hi Priscilla, nice to see you again.

[Priscilla] bows.

[Miss Gore]: You’re late.

[Priscilla]: Yes Miss, your girl had a lot to do during the week and unfortunately, she doesn’t have much time today.

[Miss Gore]: This is unacceptable! If you want to be in my inner circle of slaves, you’ll have to be online a lot more often.

[Priscilla]: 999

'999', that was the sign for an emergency. Something had happened to Priscilla, so she was unable to continue the conversation at the moment and had to leave the chat immediately. In the virtual world this was completely normal and an accepted behaviour. After all, everyone should have their fun. And real life was still going on. 'afk' was another abbreviation, which meant, 'away from keyboard'. But this was announced in advance, in contrast to the emergency signal.

The minutes passed, then finally Sven came back.

[Priscilla]: Excuse me, Miss Gore, but my wife called for dinner and she was very angry.

[Miss Gore]: Okay, buzz off. We don’t want you to get in trouble anymore.

Sven logged off, shut down the computer and went into the kitchen to see his wife, who was already waiting impatiently for dinner. Although there was nothing elaborate to eat, the time spent together with her husband was very important to Lara, which Sven felt again and again.

Lara snarled at him grumpy. "No sooner are you home than you’re hanging on to that stupid box again. What do you always do there anyway? What is so important that it can’t even wait until after dinner?"

Sven swallowed and searched for an answer, or rather an excuse. "Oh honey, I had to check the mail and recheck the bank statements. You don’t want anyone to overcharge, do you?" Sven smiled at Lara awkwardly and waited to see if she would accept the excuse. He held his breath and hoped she wouldn’t notice.

"You’re right. Now help me set the table."

Sven exhaled. That was close, and it was a rarely stupid excuse. He couldn’t possibly explain to his wife that he is Priscilla and that he is wandering around in a virtual world talking to other players about his fantasies. Sometimes he lived out his fantasies in the game, but they were all just role-playing. Besides, it was his disguise to appear in a different gender than Priscilla. Who would find out that he was really a man?

Oh no, damn it, Sven cried out inwardly when he remembered his last words in the conversation with Miss Gore before he had to break off.

♦♦♦

It was only a brief guest performance by Priscilla that evening, but that can happen to any time reality calls, thought Mark. After Priscilla had left her conversation so abruptly, Darkwing and Miss Gore were now alone again.

Mark took over the conversation and came straight back to his already expressed wish for a photo. Jens, alias Darkwing, had not the slightest chance to escape his spell. Mark had already got what he wanted many times through his dominant manner. At least here in the virtual world it worked very well. In the real world he never managed to contradict one of his colleagues or even not to fulfil every wish of his superior. On the job he had to act accordingly, but here on the Internet, protected by anonymity, he could show his other ego. Maybe this was even his true personality?

Mark’s thoughts of resuming the conversation were abruptly interrupted when another person joined the conversation. It was really busy here today, Mark thought. Those poor souls who couldn’t do anything better with themselves this weekend than to find virtual fun on the Internet. He himself did not belong to this genre of man, because he had a job to do – an important job! He had been taught this by his parents again and again and it filled him with ambition when he knew that his parents would have been proud of him.

[Miss Gore]: Hey, kid, have we met? Darkwing, have you seen the new guy?

[Darkwing]: No, Miss, never.

Some characters in this world were either very shy, new or just uptight. After a while, when no answer came up, Mark dug deeper more energetically.

[Miss Gore]: Have you lost your tongue, or don’t you speak our language?

[Hangim Hi]: Hello!

[Miss Gore]: Oh! That’s it? Did no one teach you how to introduce yourself, or should we guess?

[Darkwing]: Maybe it’s his name, Miss.

[Miss Gore]: Sure, Hangim Hi either stands for a cowboy, but you don’t look like one, or it’s your own wish to be hung up?

[Darkwing]: Maybe you should grant his request, Miss Gore?

[Hangim Hi]: Um, hi, I’m new here.

[Miss Gore]: So, who are you, and what do you want? Is this about wasting our time, or are you about to dangle from the nearest tree?

Mark was upset. This new guy stumbled into his conversation with Darkwing, which hadn’t really got going yet, and didn’t say a word. Mark clicked with the mouse on the new character on the screen and opened the profile. What he read there was too good to be true.

♦♦♦

The thirst had passed, and Kay finally felt no more pain. His hands already died off while ago, and he didn’t feel anything anymore. His butt on the hard, faecal covered floor and his back against the cold bars of the cage he had felt consciously for the last time several hours ago. Meanwhile Kay noticed his environment only very dimly, but he could clearly see the figure that approached him. It was a person very close to him. Kay tried to speak but could not get a word out. His throat had dried up for days and his desperate cries for help, which sounded more like the timid grunting of a dying animal through the tape, went unheeded. The person came closer and closer to his cage and inspected the steel prison from all sides. The figure took his time. Maybe it was looking for a way to help him escape. Kay could see its breath becoming visible in small clouds in front of the mouth and nose. Then the figure began to open its mouth. Kay was irritated because the mouth did not reveal any teeth, only a black hole. As if hypnotized, Kay looked into the dark throat of the figure that began to speak.

The words came out loud and clear, "You asked for it, Kay!" The mouth hadn’t moved an inch, but Kay was sure he had heard the words clearly. How was that possible? His dehydrated brain was no longer able to find the answer to this question. His ears heard the person’s last words, "Farewell."

Then the figure dissolved in a cloud of mist and Kay’s eyelids slowly closed. His body had been able to maintain all vital systems until that very moment but now he felt the power fade from his muscles and his breathing became shallower. Then he was no longer breathing at all. He had finally lost the fight.

Sunday, November 25th, 2012, 08:57 am

For a Sunday, they had gotten up early. The weather was excellent, and Gwen was looking forward to the day. To finally be back for her family and especially her son filled her with anticipation.

"I have a surprise for my big boy." Gwen looked expectantly at her son, still listlessly chewing on his Nutella bun. Phil kept a straight face. Gwen met this reaction unexpectedly and directly. She had hoped Phil would be pleased and curiously inquiring, but the opposite was the case. This had been going on all week. Hardly a word had come out of Phil since Paul died. It seemed as if he was living in his own world, as if contact with the outside world had been broken. The only interest Phil showed was in playing on his computer. Here he could retreat for hours and spend his time but contact with Gwen was broken off.

Gwen finished her coffee and asked, "Don’t you want to know where we’re going today?"

Phil pushed the last bite of his roll into his mouth and stood up. "We can leave right away; I’ll just brush my teeth" he announced indifferently.

Gwen looked at Phil in surprise as he disappeared at the top of the stairs. Shaking her head, she cleared the kitchen table.

Everything was prepared and she had hoped so much to please her son. But he did not show the spark of interest in where he was going. Wordlessly and apathetic Phil got into the car, with his iPod and the headphones on his ears.

As she slammed the door and walked around the car, Gwen muttered, "Here you are, Lord, don’t say a word."

She stepped on it.

Beth was already standing at the side of the road ready to leave and was impatiently waiting for her daughter. When she saw the black Touareg arrive, she waved at Gwen. As soon as the car came to a halt, the back door flew open and Phil jumped out to fling his arms around his grandmother’s neck.

Gwen kept a jealous watch over this event and was rooted to the spot behind the steering wheel. After endless seconds, she parked the car and helped her mother get in. Phil was already in the back seat again and smiled to himself as Gwen got into the car to drive the trio to their actual destination.

"So, Phil, are you excited?" Beth asked curiously.

"Do you know where we’re going?" Phil asked hypocritically.

In surprise, Beth looked at Gwen before answering. "To the sharks and octopuses, to Sea Life. You like that, don’t you?"

"Great! We haven’t been there a long time!"

Gwen didn’t recognize her son. For the last week, he could barely get a word out. With his grandmother, the situation seemed very different. He babbled on unchecked and talked about his last week and his experiences for most of the trip. After ninety minutes they reached Timmendorf beach and Sea Life. It was bitterly cold, but the sun was shining on them. The thermometer showed 14° F this morning on departure and it might hardly have got warmer. The sun simply had no more power to heat up the air accordingly. The winter came inexorably with big steps.

After they had parked the car in a side street, the three of them went to the entrance. Behind the dune, you could hear the waves that tirelessly made their way to the beach. Gwen already had the feeling that she would need many attempts to find her son again. Perhaps Phil’s impression that his mother was having an affair with Dr Peters was also getting in the way of their relationship. She would have to get rid of this obsession soon, but not today and not in the presence of Beth, Gwen thought as they queued up at the entrance.

After they had passed the entrance, Phil headed straight for the first aquariums and dragged his grandma by the arm with him. "Come on, grandma, let’s go to Speedy!"

'Speedy' was one of the attractions in Sea Life and Phil was crazy about it. The little sea turtle had really taken a shine to him. He could stand in front of the aquarium for hours and watch 'Speedy' glide by. Gwen would have loved to know what was going on in her son’s little head.

"Hey, isn’t it great how Speedy does her laps in the water?" Gwen tried to get a conversation going. "I bet you can’t hold your breath underwater that long!"

"If you’d gone to the pool with me sometime, like Dad did, you’d know how well I can swim and, above all, dive!"

Wham! That wasn’t the plan, Gwen thought. It really hurt, but there had simply not been enough time for her career, her husband and her son. She had had to set priorities that now turned out to be wrong. But there was still enough time to change things. Gwen took a step closer to her son and crouched down.

"You’re right Phil, I haven’t spent enough time with you, and I’m very, very sorry about that, but we have to stick together now. All we have left is each other."

The seconds passed, Phil kept staring at this little sea turtle and showed no emotion.

"Phil, I have a great idea. There is not so much to do in the LKA at the moment and I have worked on all the big cases. I can easily arrange to be at home more and then we will simply do something together. Anything you want! Maybe we can go to the swimming pool, if you like? How’s that sound?"

Again, the seconds passed, which seemed like endless minutes or even hours to Gwen. Then finally Phil answered quietly and cautiously, "Yes, that would be great."

That was all, Gwen formulated the question inwardly, but then came to the realization that it was a beginning after all.

"Great! I’m so glad!" She took Phil in her arms, gave him a little kiss on the cheek, which he immediately wiped off, and stood up. "Where are we going now? You decide! It’s your day today, Phil."

While Gwen got up, her phone vibrated. Should she answer it or not? It’s hopefully not official, she thought as she fished her phone out of her tight trousers. The name on the display did not bode well. It was her colleague. A call to her work phone on a Sunday made Gwen nervous. Any chance there was a new case? She had just promised to spend more time with her son, and now this could be the end of it. Torn, she pressed the green button to answer the call.

"Gwen Fisher …" she replied and added amusedly, "… is currently on an outing with her family and cannot be reached. Please leave a message after the beep. Beep!" Afterwards she fell silent and could hardly contain her laughter.

"Hey Gwen, that’s a great greeting – you can talk to me, I’m calling private."

"That’s a relief. I thought there was gonna be another case. I was just explaining to my son that I’ve got more time for him now and my work phone is ringing."

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry. You’re on a field trip? Where?"

"At Sea Life on Timmendorf beach. Phil always likes to watch the turtle 'Speedy' here and in a few minutes, we’ll probably pay a visit to the seahorses and 'Nemo' again."

"How is he coping with the new situation?" Stefan asked.

Gwen turned around, took a few steps away from Phil and lowered her voice.

"He’s still very much turned in on himself and hardly speaks a word to me. He seems to get along great with my mother. When we went to pick her up earlier, he was like a different person. I only hope he confides in me again soon.

Stefan briefly considered whether he should openly reply to her that her son had done more with his father than with her in the past. It would be a long way to normalcy. He decided against it and tried to encourage Gwen. "I am sure that with a little patience and your charming manner you will soon bridge the gap to him."

Gwen swallowed hard when she heard his loving words. But then she reminded herself that Stefan was a colleague and her husband died just a week ago. She had to pull herself together and not fall in love with the next best friend. She would manage on her own.

"On the way back, you can go to McDonald’s, right?" Stefan suggested. "All kids love that!"

"That’s an excellent idea, especially since I haven’t prepared anything to eat tonight."

"Then we’ll meet again tomorrow at the LKA? I look forward to seeing you! Take it easy. You’ll make it!"

"Yes, I will. I’m looking forward to it, too. Bye!"

The last words Gwen breathed into the phone, almost unable to find any more parting words, and hung up.

She turned back to Phil and her mother and realized too late that her son had listened to the end of the phone call. Disappointment and jealousy lay in his voice as he murmured, "You don’t like being with us at all and are already looking forward to work more than spending time here with me." Then he turned away and went straight for the seahorse.

For the next few hours, Gwen brooded and trotted after her son and mother at some distance. Phil had always done much more with his father than with her in the past. Was this the problem Gwen was now facing? Why had she let it come to this? The two men simply had more common interests, such 'man things', Gwen mused. But still she should have been more involved. Perhaps she should have made more suggestions for joint adventures or cinema visits. But instead, she had been more engrossed in her work and had often come home late. There was hardly time to make dinner and her son had to go to bed soon. On weekends she had a lot to do in the household and when she had an hour or two for herself, she loved to read or do nothing. So, the years passed in the same daily routine and she did not even notice how the liaison between father and son became stronger and stronger. And suddenly everything changed, Gwen stopped her thoughts and looked at the clock. She went faster again and caught up with Phil and Beth.

"We must start thinking about going home again. Are you hungry? Shall we stop at McDonalds in Eutin?"

Gwen watched Phil closely, and it took a load off her mind when he smiled and said, "I’m hungry for a cheeseburger!"

"That’s great! And you mom? Are you hungry for a BigMac or something similar?

"You know me Gwen, I don’t care for the burger stuff, but I like to come along. They make great salads now, don’t they?"

"But of course!" Gwen quickly replied. She was glad that her colleague’s idea had been so well received.

"Phil, on the way there, you can start thinking about what Santa Claus might bring you. After all, it’s only a month until December 24th, and time will fly."

The stop at McDonalds satisfied all wishes. Phil got his cheeseburger; Beth had her salad and Gwen did a wrap. Saturated and lethargic they sat back in the car and Gwen started the engine. It wasn’t ten minutes before Phil had fallen asleep in the back seat. The steady vibration of the engine and the monotonous sound always made Phil fall asleep quickly. Gwen knew this from the days when she had driven Phil around in the pram. Sometimes, when he didn’t want to fall asleep, this was the only way to get him to sleep after all. The pram was a relic of the past, and today any motorized vehicle would do the job. Bus, train, car or plane were all equally good at making Phil tired. Smiling, Gwen looked in the rear-view mirror and saw her son’s head nodding uncontrollably from side to side. An unmistakable sign of deep sleep.

Around 6:30 pm, Gwen dropped her mother off at their apartment. They hugged each other heartily. "See you later" she gave Beth a kiss on her cheek as a farewell.

Once home, Gwen carefully turned into the driveway of her house. The gravel crunched under the tires and Phil got agitated in the back seat. He opened his eyes and noticed that he had slept through most of the drive home.

"Where’s Grandma? You should have woken me! I wanted to say goodbye!"

As soon as the car came to a halt, Phil opened the door and jumped out. Gwen struggled to get behind quickly and unlock the front door. Without another word, Phil squeezed through the opening door, wiped the shoes off his feet and disappeared upstairs to his room.

Gwen took a deep breath.

After she had changed and acclimatized herself, she gently knocked on her son’s room door and entered. Phil was already back at the computer and playing.

"Hey, big guy, did you have a good day?"

"Hmmm – it was quite okay" Phil was very taciturn.

Gwen made another attempt. "We must do something like this again soon. I like being with you. That was great!"

"Hmmm, if you say so."

Oh, dear, that would be exhausting, Gwen thought, and replied, "Yes, I do!" She wanted to sound more convincing, but unfortunately, she couldn’t at that moment. "I think it would be great if we could do something together."

After a pause, Phil admitted, "Me too mommy." Phil looked like he was wrestling with himself, but then he got to the point. "You were never the one who had bothered about our free time together. Dad had always done that."

Gwen didn’t want to hear it so clearly, but she decided not to answer right away, but to let him continue talking.

"I need someone who’ll take time for me, be with me, and be there for me." Pause. Gwen was about to answer when Phil spoke up again. This time talking slower and with a lump in his throat. "Now that Daddy’s gone, I don’t know what’s gonna happen." Phil had tears in his eyes, but he swallowed his sorrow. After all, Indians don’t know pain and boys don’t cry! That’s just a girl’s thing, his father taught him.

Gwen took Phil in her arms and comforted him. "I’m with you and I’m here for you – and so is Grandma. There’s just the three of us now and we’ll stick together. I already told you today in Sea Life that there is less to do at the moment in the LKA and I will leave earlier than in the past. I’ve neglected you both too much and I’ve been too busy with my job and career, but now you come first, my dear!" With these words, Gwen embraced her son even tighter.

"Promise?"

"Promise! So now you get to play a little bit more and then it’s off to bed."

Phil didn’t need to be told twice. After his mother left the room, he started a search engine on the Internet and thought a second time before typing the words 'fantasy', 'virtual' and 'chat'. It only took a moment for the hits to appear. The first one turned out to be a paid offer and Phil clicked on the second. 'SecondLife', never heard of it, but he was immediately fascinated by the realistic avatars that could be selected as game characters. The virtual world on the entry page instantly made him want more. He clicked his way through the site and inspected all available pictures and videos with fascination. The representations of the characters in the pictures and videos had one thing in common. They were all happy, healthy, beautiful and also somehow cool and sexy. 'My world – My imagination' – that was the slogan that ran through all the examples and captivated Phil. With his mouth open, he stared at the imaginatively designed avatars, which moved very naturally in the example videos, and tried to give him an impression of what would await after registration. Everything here was so personal, but also so anonymous at the same time. While browsing the site, Phil forgot the time and was already longing for this world to escape from his everyday life. There in the other life he would surely meet someone who would understand his situation and his problems. All this without revealing his real identity.

That was exactly the right thing to do, Phil finally decided and clicked on 'Register'. Now he needed a name for his avatar in the virtual world. Phil did not hesitate a second and typed in 'Phil Fisher'. Then he chose one of the standard male characters, which made a great impression. Tall and slim, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt – almost like in real life – Phil judged his choice. He didn’t have that much muscle, he didn’t have a beard yet and he was much younger in reality, but he gave rein to his imagination. And that’s how he will certainly look when he grows up, he hoped.

After entering his real date of birth and an e-mail address he was registered and seconds later he found himself in the brave new world. How wonderful it was. It had a little bit of an 'Alice in Wonderland'. Carefully he moved his figure in the sparkling and flashing area reserved for the newcomers, as not to collide with other newly created characters.

After only a few steps it had happened. He bumped into a young woman. "Ouch!" Phil said. Nothing happened. But then after a while, a small window opened. It said:

[Alina B]: Hi, are you also new here? It’s quite difficult to move around without running into somebody.

Phil was stunned. That was fast to get in touch with someone, he realized. Timidly he put his fingers on the keyboard and answered behind the blinking input marker.

[Phil Fisher]: Yeah, right.

"Phil, it’s bedtime. Brush your teeth, please. I’ll be right up, and I want to see you in bed!"

Shit, she couldn’t have chosen a worse time, he was annoyed inwardly, who had forgotten the time completely and quickly typed the words:

[Phil Fisher]: I got to go to bed. Good night.

[Alina B]: You are polite. Good night.

A smile swept across his face. She doesn’t even know me and she’s so kind to me. Maybe I will see her again next time, Phil aspired, because Alina had been really sweet. Then he rushed into the bathroom and brushed his teeth.

Tuesday, November 27th, 2012, 10:45 pm

It was late when Mark’s acquaintances finally logged on. He had waited two hours, making small talk. This time it had been nothing more than aimless talk that was of no use to anyone, Mark resented. They just wasted his time. Suddenly all three logged in at the same time. Mark looked at his watch. It was already 10:47 pm. The 'Daily News' on TV had probably just ended. Mark grinned inside himself.

He used to spend a lot of time in front of the television and consumed for hours the same old stories. Today the Internet was his favourite pastime. If there was one thing Mark had learned from the Internet, it was that while it was helpful and useful in many cases, it was also the biggest waste of time he could imagine.

On the other hand, it was very varied, and you had it in your own hands where it took you. SecondLife had become Mark’s favourite companion in the late evening hours. Here he always met interesting people and it challenged him to find out their most intimate secrets. Especially if they did not want to reveal them.

After the avatars of his acquaintances had finally synthesized themselves in the virtual world, they could chat with each other.

[Priscilla]: Hello, my lady, good evening.

[Hangim Hi]: Howdy.

[Darkwing]: Hello.

[Miss Gore]: Well, it’s about time you guys showed up.

[Priscilla]: Please excuse, mistress, but the RL was very busy today.

’RL', that stood for 'Real Life'. Priscilla was no newcomer in these circles, Mark realized that again and again and he thought about how to get the missing information out of him. First of all, he needed less listeners, so he switched to private mode with Priscilla.

[(p) Miss Gore]: Nice to see you, was it busy in your branch again?

[(p) Priscilla]: I can tell you. I even had to pick up a package after work tonight.

This could be an interesting starting point, Mark thought.

[(p) Miss Gore]: Is the post office still open this late?

[(p) Priscilla]: No, mistress, I had it sent to my packing station.

[(p) Miss Gore]: Yes, this is indeed a good facility. Open day and night.

How convenient for me, Mark made a mental note, and how convenient for you, my dear Priscilla. Now Mark had almost everything he needed. His plan emerged like a puzzle in his mind. He went through the pieces one more time. Sven was male, married and lived in a single-family house, whose address he had reconstructed from the geo-coordinates of the photo. Today he had picked up a parcel from a nearby packing station. With a bit of luck, Sven would not remove his address label on the package when he threw the box into the wastepaper bin. There was still a tiny piece of the puzzle in front of Mark before he could put his plan into action. He was excited, like a little boy. Unfortunately, there were too many packing stations around Sven’s home, and he still needed the necessary postal number to send a fake parcel to Sven himself. He would probably have to visit Sven’s home in the next few days to do so. While he sat there and stared at the screen, he didn’t even notice that the conversation had continued. Hastily he turned the pages back in order not to miss anything important. He had to be careful now as he was chatting with Priscilla in private mode as well as talking to the other two in public. He was not allowed to get confused with the different windows in which the conversations took place.

[(p) Priscilla]: … and you can get to it anytime.

[(p) Priscilla]: Hello, mistress, are you still there?

[(p) Priscilla]: Hello?

[Priscilla]: Hello, you two. Miss Gore seems to have just disappeared from the keyboard. How you doing?

[Hangim Hi]: All bullshit!

[Darkwing]: So-so.

[Priscilla]: Why does everything suck?

[Hangim Hi]: Oh, the work, the woman, everyone is against me!

[Darkwing]: Can we cheer you up?

[Priscilla]: Yeah, you want to role-play?

[Hangim Hi]: Hmm, I don’t know.

[Priscilla]: What turns you on?

[Darkwing]: What are you into?

[Hangim Hi]: No, don’t bother. It’s nice of you, but I don’t feel like playing today. Maybe some other time. Then I’d like to play the harder version as well.

[Priscilla]: Okay. I got an early day tomorrow. I’ll say goodbye. See you.

[Darkwing]: Good night!

[Hangim Hi]: Night!

Priscilla’s avatar disintegrated, which was a sign that the player had left the game.

[Darkwing]: What would be 'harder' with you?

[Hangim Hi]: When we first met, you already had the right instinct for it … and you should read my profile.

Jens alias Darkwing was good at programming computers, but he was reluctant to read instructions or even profiles. He preferred to get right into the action. Things would develop. That was always the case. No need to study manuals or profiles. But now Jens made an exception. The profile was public and accessible to everyone. As he read, it almost took his breath away. The fantasies described here resembled his own. Obviously Hangim Hi was looking for the thrill of being hung up. This is where Miss Gore hit the mark a few days ago when she asked him if he wanted to dangle from the next tree. But Hangim Hi also told every reader that he would sometimes live out his dominant side. He was a 'switcher'.

[Darkwing]: Excuse me. Okay, caught up reading your profile. All right, I understand you better now. Maybe we can grant your wish next time you’re bad enough.

[Hangim Hi]: Yes, maybe. I have to go to sleep too. Good night.

[Darkwing]: Good night.

Also, the Avatar of Hangim Hi dissolved into nothing.

When Mark had read everything, he realized that he was alone with Darkwing.

[Miss Gore]: I’m sure you remember what we talked about a few days ago?

[Darkwing]: No, Miss, what do you mean?

[Miss Gore]: Don’t be stupid. Did you go back to your hookers and maybe take a picture already? I want a proof of your devotion!

[Darkwing]: No Miss, excuse me, I remember what you mean.

[Miss Gore]: It’s about time!

[Darkwing]: Yes, Miss, you’re right. No, I haven’t been to see any of my friends again. I’ve been celibate, too. Just like you asked. And I don’t know what kind of photo you want me to take.

All the other players had already signed out, and Mark should also stop slowly and go to sleep. The next days would be exhausting enough. He also wanted to stall Darkwing a bit, because that way he would be more receptive to what he was asking of him.

[Miss Gore]: I have to go. Be good and don’t touch yourself until I get the photo.

[Darkwing]: Of course, Miss, but what kind of photo is this?

He would get the answer in a few days, thought Mark and signed off without saying goodbye. His avatar disintegrated and the screen went black.

Mark thought about what happened to Kay in his cage as he shut down the computer.

Wednesday, November 28th, 2012, 03:15 pm

What a beautiful place, Hans Schreiber discovered again and again when he entered his property in the allotment gardens 'The beautiful wetlands'.

Rendsburg was in the middle of Schleswig-Holstein on the Kiel Canal and had been the home of the Schreiber family since the Second World War. His parents had made a new life for themselves here and their son spent his entire childhood in this place. At an early age they had bought a plot of land in the local allotment gardens to grow some vegetables. This enabled them to bridge the worst privations of the war and to buoy up in the post-war period. A small rabbit, pigeon and duck breeding rounded off the family fortune. But after Hans was getting on in years, he decided to give up his animal and vegetable breeding and completely redesign the allotment garden. The small blue wooden arbour with the rocking chair on the terrace and the ivy vines on the roof brought tears of joy to his eyes every time he came home after a holiday trip. He took a deep breath and felt the fresh winter air in his lungs. He could smell the cold and the earthy air brought back memories of the good old days. Several times a year he travelled with his wife to southern Spain to enjoy a change of scenery.

Hans entered his wooden bower and he immediately noticed the different smell, which he had to get rid of immediately. It was disgusting and his stomach began to rebel. Hastily he opened the window right next to the door to the terrace. When he turned around and tried to close the front door, his breath stopped. Hans stumbled backwards out of his pergola and looked in his jacket pocket for his mobile phone. When he had taken a few breaths and recovered his composure, he dialled the emergency call.

The time until the police finally arrived, Hans felt like an eternity. Trembling, he approached the two policemen who had been sent to the scene by the police station in Rendsburg. He didn’t dare to look around to his gazebo again. The shock was too deep when he saw the body. While Hans waited at the patrol car, the officers first examined the situation. They soon realized that they could do nothing more here without support and appropriate specialists.

One of the officials dealt with Hans to record his name and address. The other one ordered the reinforcement from the patrol car.

Gwen’s cell phone made itself felt as she was about to pack up and go home, just as she had promised Phil. What the hell, Gwen thought and accepted the call energetically.

"Well, Stefan, what news do you have to ruin my evening?"

"Hi Gwen, sorry, but we have a new case. A body was found in a summerhouse in Rendsburg. Meet me at the car in a few minutes. Forensics and Dr Peters have been informed. We will meet them at the scene." Without further ado, Stefan hung up and Gwen stared at her mobile. She didn’t get a word in edgewise.

Seconds later she had regained her composure and professional routine took over Gwen’s actions. A short phone call to her son to explain him the situation, she would do out of the car. She packed her handbag as well as her jacket and the matching scarf, because it was still terribly cold. She made her way to the car.

Stefan waited impatiently with the engine running, picked up Gwen and immediately took off in the direction of Rendsburg. After barely twenty-four minutes they reached Rendsburg, which is about 25 miles away from Kiel. Time enough to make some necessary telephone calls. Their mother understood immediately, only Phil didn’t want to hear another excuse. She would have to clarify that later.

The area around the arbour was already cordoned off and poorly lit. It was still freezing cold and the ground was frozen. Carefully, so as not to slip, Gwen moved together with Stefan towards the two officers who were first on the scene.

"Good evening, I’m Chief Inspector Fisher and this is my colleague, Superintendent Schick. What can you tell us so far?" Gwen chose the formal tone to make her hierarchy clear to the two officers.

The younger one was the first to speak. "Well, we were called by Mr Schreiber about an hour ago. He’s the owner of the garden and wanted to check his bower. He discovered the dead man. He came back from vacation today and is still completely disturbed. We have already informed the forensics department and have requested assistance. We are glad, that you are here now. We’ve already cordoned off the area. Fortunately, there are few neighbours in the garden today, so we have few onlookers only."

"But that way we don’t have any potential witnesses that we could have questioned immediately" Stefan rebuked the young colleague.

"Okay, thank you, please show us the location now!" Gwen commanded.

The interior of the gazebo was tidy and relatively clean. A small table and two chairs, which could also be used as deck chairs for the veranda, were the only furniture besides a small chest in the corner. Gwen inhaled the musty air and felt her throat tighten as she smelled faeces on top of everything else. The wooden floor creaked under every step she took. Behind the door she saw a small metal cage in the corner of the room. A heavily overweight, naked male person was sitting in it, huddled up with his legs tightened. His arms had been handcuffed through the bars of the cage behind his