By early afternoon, Dawley had closed all of his social media accounts. Dean checked the website of his keylogger spy ware. The laptop hasn’t been used since he installed it. Bailey’s phone had some minor chatter, “sup bro”, “were u @”. Dean had Bianca pegged as the weak link. A check of the VCU student directory gave him his permanent address in Indiana, and his current address at Hopper Dorms on campus. In a few minutes, Dean had Cody Bianca’s parents’ name and phone number in Indiana.
He spent the rest of the afternoon riding the bus and checking out Lloyd Dawley’s real estate listings. He cross referenced them against listings for sale or rent, and started with the ones in less developed areas. The first house had a car in the driveway and toys in the backyard. The second had an overgrown lawn and a couple of newspapers in the front lawn.
If someone called the cops, his story was that he was house hunting and wanted to check it out before calling the realtor. He circled the house, peering in all the windows. There were no blinds or curtains, and he got a good look at the inside of all the rooms, including the garage. No furniture, no basement, no place to chain Alana Favors.
The third property was also unoccupied, but some of the windows were covered. Dean knocked on the front door, and when nobody answered he went through a gate to the back yard. He checked windows until he found one unlocked. He slipped through and quickly ran from room to room. Again, no furnishings, no Alana Favors. He let himself out the back door and walked back to the bus stop.
Dean got to VCU campus around dusk. He stopped at a liquor store just outside campus. Hopper Dorms was a quadrangle building with a courtyard in the middle. Dean had changed into a VCU jersey, his hoodie stuffed in his backpack. He walked to the back of the dorms, by the loading docks for the cafeteria. When there was no foot traffic, he got a running start at the wall and shimmied up a drain pipe until he could grab on to an awning above the loading dock. He pulled himself up, then used a covered electrical junction box on the wall to step up to the cafeteria roof. He pulled himself onto the roof, which was a floor lower than roofs of the adjoining dormitories. He got to the other edge which lined the inner courtyard. Too many students milling around the trees and grass for him to drop down.
Bleeding Skull kept low and produced a small pair of binoculars and a cell phone. He had the landline number of Bianca’s dorm room, and from that he found his roommate’s name. He trained the binoculars on area he expected Bianca’s room to be. Several open windows, but no faces that he could see.
He dialed the room number. He trained the binoculars to a room that had some movement. Tree branches obscured his view. “Hello?”
He asked for Bianca‘s roommate. “Jason Newsom, please.”
“This is he.”
“Mr. Newsom, I’m calling on behalf of the Victors Crossing Spectator, and we have a special offer for a five year subscription…”
“No, thanks.” Newsom hung up. Dean got enough of Newsom’s shape and clothes to distinguish him, and he could tell that he was interacting with someone else in the room. Bleeding Skull laid down and watched.
Less than an hour later, Newsom put on a backpack and went through the dorm room door. He left the light on. A few minutes later, the light went off, but he could see the shine of a computer monitor before the blinds went down.
Dean checked out the rest of the roofs from his vantage point. They were flat, and varied in level, but he saw one section with a railing. He got a running start and ran up an adjoining wall, grabbing on to a storm drain. The drain buckled a bit, but did not give. He pulled himself on to the roof, and proceeded to climb and drop down through the various roof levels until he reached a section that had the railing. Some lawn chairs were scattered around, as well as coffee cans filled with cigarette butts. There was a door to a stairwell with a magnetic pass key panel on the outside.
He picked up a butt and waited. It took five minutes before someone opened the door, cigarette pack in his hand. Dean pretended to put out the cigarette and passed the student smoker into the stairwell before the door closed.
He went downstairs and navigated the halls, keeping his head down, keeping his thumbs tucked in his backpack straps. When he got to Bianca’s room, he took out his phone and pretended to text until there was no other traffic in the hall. He pounded on the door.
“Mr. Bianca?” He kept his head turned away from the door’s peephole.
A few seconds passed before a meek, “Who’s there?”
“VCU PD, Mr. Bianca. Please open the door.” Dean tried to keep his voice forceful without being too loud. The door opened a crack. Bleeding Skull slipped his mask on and burst through the door.
He stood eye to eye with Bianca, and punched him in the solar plexus before he could cry out. Bleeding Skull pushed Bianca to the ground as he stepped in the room and shut the door. He propped Bianca in a chair and let him catch his wind.
He produced a bottle of whiskey from his backpack and twisted off the top. “Drink.”
“I don’t want..” started Bianca.
“I don’t care what you want. You will drink.” Bleeding Skull said it more as a statement of fact than an order. Bianca took a sip from the bottle.
“Who are you?” he whimpered. Bleeding Skull sat on the edge of one of the two fold out beds that lined the small dorm room.
“Someone who doesn’t like to see a woman in chains. Drink.”
Bianca took another pull and began crying. “I thought it was just going to be larping!”
Bianca had only met Dillon Dawley a couple times outside of the game and chatrooms. Dawley said he wanted to take the clan live action. He didn’t know about the girl until he got the house. He thought she was into it, or maybe somebody paid her. But when he saw her naked, in chains, he just…
Bleeding Skull stuck the bottle in his mouth and tipped it up. Bianca choked, spilling whiskey over his shirt. “Look me in the eyes.” He did. “Tell me you thought she wanted this. Tell me she wanted to do the things you made her do. Tell me you didn’t know that something was wrong.”
“I can’t,” Bianca whimpered.
“But you did it anyway. You took what you wanted. And whatever lies you told yourself to make it okay, you still knew better.” Bianca didn’t disagree.
“It’s over. Over for you, your clan, and everyone in it. Who else came to that house?” Bleeding Skull handed Bianca the bottle and let him take a drink on his own.
“A couple of frat guys. Michael is the only one that would hang out, the others just went upstairs and left when they were done.”
“Mu Theta Pi?”
“I don’t know the difference.”
Bleeding Skull motioned to the bottle. Bianca took another swig. “Was she the only woman in the house?”
“While I was there.” Bianca burped in his mouth, whiskey crawling back up his esophagus.
“Do you know about any other women?”
“Frat guys had their own, I think. When they came over, they said that ours was better, so they were going to take a turn.”
“Where are they keeping her?”
“I don’t know any of that shit. Dawley got into their parties, but only Michael would even talk to me.”
“The frat. Is it part of your clan, or another.”
Bianca shook his head. “Dawley was the only one that took the Dominus stuff seriously. Everybody else just wanted the pussy.” Bianca realized he put things the wrong way.
Bleeding Skull’s eyes flared. “That pussy is going to cost you, Cody Bianca. Here’s where you start paying. You are going to finish that bottle.”
“Dude, I can’t…”
“You are. If I have to shove it up your ass and give you an enema, you will finish that bottle.” Bianca started drinking. “Tonight, Cody Bianca, you are going to get alcohol poisoning. You are going to the hospital. You will tell everybody every horrible thing that you’ve done. You will drop out of school and leave VC.”
Bianca wretched, whiskey and bile coming up his throat. Bleeding Skull stepped back and let him puke over his shirt.
“I know who you are, Cody Bianca. This is not the last time we’ll meet, and the further you get away from VC the more time you’ll buy. Keep drinking.” Bleeding Skull slid the bottle back in his mouth. “This is a taste of the pain, the helplessness, the loss of control, the things you did…”
There was a pounding on the door. “VCPD. Open the door.”