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David Parker Ray: The Toy Box Killer [PART 1] - My almost 2-month research into his crimes and the missing / unknown victims.

David Parker Ray: The Toy Box Killer [PART 1] - My almost 2-month research into his crimes and the missing / unknown victims.

[FULL VIDEO] David Parker Ray: The Toy Box Killer (Documentary) [49:27]

(Please give it a watch, I worked incredibly hard on it!)
[DISCLAIMER] This post is a formatted version of the script in the documentary. I hope you’ll take the time to view the content I created if you enjoy this post :)
Other mysteries I've tackled:
  • "My Rose" - The YouTube channel I referred to the FBI (video only, post was removed) It's a WILD ride.
  • The Mystery of Room 322 at Hotel Zaza - (post) (video)
  • Kidnapped by a Serial Killer - The Heather Tiffany Robinson Story - (post) (video)

INTRO (0:00)

“Hello there, bitch… I’m going to tell you in detail why you have been kidnapped, what’s going to happen to you… you are obviously here against your will. You’re going to be kept chained in a variety of different positions, usually with your legs or knees forced wide apart. You will be raped thoroughly and repeatedly in every hole you’ve got. [Laughs] You’re gonna be drugged up real heavy with a combination of sodium pentothal and phenobarbital. You’re not gonna remember a fuckin’ thing about this little adventure, or what has happened to you…”
-An excerpt from David Parker Ray’s 45-minute orientation tape he played for his victims.
Elephant Butte, NM… a quiet retirement community 2 hours north of the Mexican border. Only about 700 households… nothing ever happens here. You know your neighbor, and everyone else in town, and they know you. You get up, you go to work, you see the same people, see the same places, day after day. It’s the kind of town so small and quiet, it’s not uncommon for people to leave their homes unlocked. With an average income of $30k / year, it’s not like you have anything worth stealing anyway.
The idea of anything out of the ordinary or newsworthy happening in this town is pretty much inconceivable. Other than a few troublesome kids now and then getting into mischief, nobody really ever has anything to worry about.


(Artwork for this section by Theresa Donhauser. So happy with what he came up with for this!!!)
March 12, 1999. 22-year old Cynthia Virgil Jaramillo is running for her life down a dirt road. Covered in blood, wearing nothing… except for a metal choker collar padlocked to her neck like an escaped animal. Running for her life, her attacker hot on her trail, she desperately tried to orientate herself, shaking off the numerous amount of forced drugs in her system designed to make her delirious, forgetful...compliant. She had no idea where she was, what day it was, where she could go… Had it been a couple days? A week? She could only guess how much time had past since she had been taken captive. With no idea where she was, she only that she had to get away. And the danger was closing in on her fast. Finally, a trailer, a sign of civilization! She had no idea if it was safe, only knowing that the alternative was far worse. She had to try.
She barged in to the trailer, the homeowner startled and shocked at the bloody, bruised, and panicked naked woman barging uninvited into their home. It was immediately apparent that she was in trouble. Cynthia begged and pleaded with them to keep her safe. Crying and pleading in hysterics as she tried to explain what had just happened to her,she collapsed on their floor and fell unconscious. What had she been through? The home owner called the police who promptly came and rescued her, and arrested a man by the name of David Parker Ray - a man that they would soon learn would be the stuff of nightmares even seasoned investigators would have a hard time coping with.


David Parker Ray (1955 yearbook photo) was a troubled man from the start. He was raised by his grandparents after his violent, severely alcoholic, and abusive father Cecil left the family and moved to Albuquerque. His mother Nettie couldn’t handle the stress of raising 10-year-old David and 8-year-old Peggie, so she dropped them off with their paternal grandparents and moved back in with her own family. The children rarely saw their own parents ever again, and neither their mother or father had any apparent bond with their children thereafter.
David’s grandfather raised them in an oppressively strict Christian Fundamentalist environment. Misbehavior of any kind was met with violent beatings. A friend of David’s would later describe his terror of his friend David’s grandfather, saying,
“His grandfather was very very strict. He came from the old school where you had to be tough to survive. If his grandfather wanted David to do something, he’d jump. Maybe in today’s terms, he was abusive, but we called it being strict.”
Everywhere David went he was exposed to violence and bullying. His father tormented him and beat him, both his parents disposed of him, his oppressive grandfather beat him often and expected him to meet standards that hardly anyone could meet, and he was bullied and beaten at school mercilessly. He was a loner. Shy and reserved, and hardly opened up to anyone. He spent most of his time alone on his grandfather’s ranch.
The results of endless torment and beatings from everyone in his life had a profound influence on him and his development into puberty. His sister described finding lewd and violent pornographic images hidden in his room when he was 13. His taste for violence and bondage was early, and never left him. Not only did it never leave him, it grew.
According to multiple sources who knew him best, he boasted to the few people close to him that his first murder was as a very young teenager, where he abducted a woman at knifepoint, tied her to a tree, and tortured her to death.
Years went by as he became more deeply involved with sadomasochism and violence. He got married twice, and met his third wife at the age of 27 -- 18-year-old Glenda Burdine in 1966. They had a daughter named Glenda Jean Ray the following year, whose importance to this story cannot be overstated, and you’ll hear more about her later. 3 years after the birth of their daughter, David grew bored and left his family to join the hippie revolution in 1969. By this time, David, at the age of 30, was hitch-hiking across NM with a pretty blonde girl named Sally. They shacked up with the owner of a truck stop and his girlfriend. David’s now pregnant girlfriend Sally confided in the girlfriend of the truck stop owner that she had lost her virginity to David and that she was pregnant. Days later, Sally and all her possessions were gone. When they asked David where Sally was, he shrugged, saying that she was a “free spirit” and had decided to leave. As disturbed as they were about this behavior from Sally which they considered out-of-character after having gotten to know her, they had no reason to disbelieve David, and Sally was soon forgotten.
David shortly thereafter got bored of the hippie lifestyle, patched things up with his wife and moved back in with his family. Although he pretended to be the consummate father-figure, he was anything but -- getting deeper and deeper into the underground bondage scene. The years continued onward. Two more failed marriages, and David moved to the quiet community of Elephant Butte NM in the 80s, where he would take residence at 513 Bass Rd the remainder of his life.


The quiet sleepy town of Elephant Butte was the perfect place to hide a dark secret. A small retirement community of only about 700 homes, situated right on the shores of Elephant Butte Lake, an enormous reservoir of deep, opaque, algae-filled water. He spent most of the 80’s getting deeper and deeper into the bondage community, becoming exposed to habits and deviancy, and networked contacts that fueled his unbridled thirst for violence and torture.
His behavior became well-established, kidnapping women and young girls, torturing them for days to satisfy his deviant cravings, and then selling them into slavery in Mexico once he was done with them, conveniently only a 2 hour drive south from his new lair in Elephant Butte.
It’s worth noting that by 1984, he had begun boasting to his friends about his intimate knowledge about every square inch of Elephant Butte Lake, spending countless weekends there in his sailboat. He enjoyed water sports, boat parties, and fishing. Though the lake had several species of fish, it was best known for the yellow and flathead catfish that prowl its depths, reaching up to 80 lbs, and known for being voracious omnivores, eating anything and everything it comes in contact with, including the occasional meal of human remains.
David had a reputation of being a kind and gentle person, who was kind to animals and routinely found injured animals to nurse back to health -- a stark contrast to the darkness he secretly hid all his life. Friends who assumed he was speaking darkly hypothetical, recall him describing while on his boat the best places in the lake to hide a body. He described the need to cut them open to release outgassing, fill the cavity with stones, wrap them in chicken wire, and after dumping them in the lake, the catfish would take care of the rest. And the zero visibility and algae in the water meant that no one would ever find what the catfish didn’t take care of themselves.

JESSE (10:51)

David Ray’s daughter, Glenda Jean Ray, who went by the nickname Jesse, was the spitting image of her father, who she adored.
She rarely saw her father who was constantly traveling, working odd mechanical jobs. Growing up, she was exposed at a very young age to her father’s masochistic lifestyle, who did little to hide his deviancy from her. She grew up with not only a tolerance for it, but developed similar cravings and deviancy that she saw in her father.
She only recognized that there was a problem with her father at the age of 19, when she witnessed a bondage torture session with a prostitute that resulted in the woman screaming for her life, fleeing naked out of David Ray’s home in terror, never to return.
She filed a complaint with the FBI and gave a sworn complaint against her father. The astonished FBI agents listened as she told tale after tale of her deviant father kidnapping and torturing women, and later transporting them to Mexico, selling them all into sexual slavery.
After bringing then 46-year-old Ray in for questioning himself several times, not only did he not hide his behavior, he gleefully told them in graphic enthusiastic detail about his deviant lifestyle, telling them that he had been interested in bondage since the age of 13 and had been extremely active in the bondage community since the age of 28. Even telling the FBI agents that it was difficult for him to ejaculate until he thought of murder.
As shocking and deviant as his behavior was, there was no specific crime they could pinpoint. No victim they could identify. Although they had a near confession from him, they were forced to close the report without further action, leading to another 13 years of kidnappings, torture, and murder.
One of Jesse’s best friends told reporters years later:
“This is like the last time Jesse tried to break away, to say to her dad, [she saw this behavior and said] ‘No, this is wrong.’ She reported him, and then what happens? They didn’t do anything.”
It was indeed the first and only time Jesse cooperated with law enforcement about her father.
It’s believed that after this experience with the FBI, Jesse began to fully embrace who her father was, and he kept no secrets from her. People who knew them best described their relationship as close… uncomfortably close. Jesse gave birth to a daughter herself a few years later in 1990, denying all the constant rumors that the biological father was David Ray, her own father.

THE TOY BOX (13:44)

Emboldened by his brush with the FBI who had failed to pin him down for his decades of crimes, David Ray decided to push his deviancy and thirst for violence into a realm unseen before. An unparalleled mechanic and craftsman, Ray married his skills and passion for violence, torture, and unbridled deviancy into his magnum opus. A kind of laboratory where he could put his decades of experience into the art of pain into practice.
He purchased a 22-foot-long cargo trailer, hung up a hand-made sign inside that read “Satan’s Den”, and got to work. He installed an air conditioning unit to keep himself comfortable inside. The Toy Box, as he called it, would be a constant work in progress over the years. It’s estimated that he personally invested over $100,000 into it. It was escape-proof, sound-proof, with a reinforced frame and deadbolt lock (X-Ray image of the Toy Box and its contents). The ceilings and walls were adorned with unimaginable horrors - elaborate system of pulleys, gurneys, weights, pliers, clamps, whips, scalpels, chains, padlocks. Drawings and figurines of women in various methods of torture. Medical cabinets filled with syringes and chemicals. There was a coffin lined with ventilation holes and various rings to restrain his victims as he sealed them shut inside. And most horrifying of all, an actual medical-grade gynecological chair modified to restrain victims and position limbs as he saw fit, positioned in the center of the toy box like a throne of pain. Hooked up to the head and mid-section were electrodes that he attached to a generator used to electrocute various parts of their bodies, along with cattle prods and tasers.
In a move of absolute evil arrogance, he set up video recording equipment to film his dark crimes, installing monitors positioned so his victims would be forced to watch themselves as he inflicted unimaginable pain upon them. It’s believed he filmed every single session, selling the footage to his dark network of contacts in the underground bondage world, who had a high interest and were happy to pay top-dollar for the most extreme footage and even snuff films that he shot. His captive victims would be kept for days, sometimes up to 3 months in unimaginable conditions. Always careful to clean up and leave no trace of evidence, he made sure none of his victims could be identified in the footage. He kept them until he was bored with them. No one ever saw the inside of the Toy Box unless you were the victim of it, or a captor.
It always began the same way, and he never deviated from his time-tested methods. His victim was abducted from the road, a bar, or by luring a prostitute into his shabby RV. Violently beaten and shackled, he would take them back to 513 Bass Dr, keep them captive chained to the bed in his trailer as he inflicted unimaginable amounts of pain, and then days later, they would be blindfolded and brought to the Toy Box. When the blindfold was removed, they found themselves strapped to the gynecological chair, looking around they would see the various tools of torture, syringes, other items I’m too uncomfortable to hear myself say out loud, they would see David Ray hovering over them like a victorious predator. Then he would play the tape. His frequency of bringing new victims in led to him being tired of giving them the instructions himself, so he made a taped set of audio instructions. A kind of orientation to prepare his victims for the true nightmare to begin. It’s too long to paste in its entirety here, but you heard a part of the original audio of that tape at the beginning and I’ll leave a link to a pastebin post with the full transcript of what each of his victims heard before their nightmare began.
At the end of their captivity, they would be washed, thoroughly scraped of any DNA evidence, given the clothes they had come in after months of nakedness, and given a cocktail of powerful hallucinogenic drugs that made them forget the entire ordeal completely, unable to identify what had happened to them, or even explain to their loved ones why they hurt so badly all over or where they had been.
It’s impossible to know how many victims saw the horrors of the toy box, but years later, the FBI would find hundreds of tapes and photographs of his victims time inside. None would be identifiable. Except one. And it was all thanks to a blurry image of a tattoo. And this tattoo led them to one of the most important witnesses who helped convict David Ray.
The tattoo was blurry and hard to make out. After enhancing the video as best they could, they released an image of the tattoo. A woman named Kelli Van Cleave soon came forward recognizing her own tattoo. She had spent time in Elephant Butte and was missing 3 days of her life that she couldn’t account for, followed by severe bouts of depression, anxiety, and nightmares.


In the summer of 1996 Kelli Van Cleave was a regular patron at a bar called Raymond’s Lounge in the nearby town of Truth or Consequences. A year earlier, a woman named Jill Troia disappeared and hadn’t been seen since after a bitter argument with Jesse Ray, David Ray’s daughter. It is now assumed, but never proven that Jesse was responsible for the disappearance.
Kelli was having a rough time in a new marriage she had rushed into and had become good friends with Jesse Ray, David’s daughter. One night after a particularly nasty fight with her brand new husband, she stormed out and headed to Raymond’s Lounge to drink and vent her frustrations. She talked to Jesse about her difficulties and had a single beer. Other patrons and friends of hers left and it was only her and Jesse. Feeling uneasy and disoriented from the drugs Jesse had slipped into her beer, she decided she needed to go home, but her ride had long since departed. Jesse offered her a place to stay at her father’s home in Elephant Butte and drove her there, where she was held at knife point, bound, and introduced to the Toy Box by Jesse and her father.
3 days later, David Ray drove her home to her in-laws, telling them he found her wandering the beach in a disoriented state. As he returned her, they were fuming, assuming she had gone off on some sort of drug binge. Her new husband annulled the marriage. He and his mother laid into her viciously, telling her how irresponsible she was for leaving for 3 days and not telling anyone. Confused, destitute, unable to account for the missing 3 days, the bleeding she was experiencing, and the injuries she couldn’t explain, she took the few belongings she had and left Elephant Butte.
3 years later, she was living in Colorado and remarried, but still suffering from the ordeal. Constant nightmares, depression, and an inability to be intimate with her new husband, or even allow him to see her uncovered. She was haunted by nightmares of being tortured and suspended in mid-air.
Through psychological counselling, she was able to piece together most of the ordeal she suffered over the course of 3 days in David Parker Ray’s toy box. She was hardly the first, and certainly not the last victim to experience the horrors she could now clearly see on the footage the FBI showed her of her helpless naked body being put through unthinkable trauma.

ROY YANCY (22:52)

The impressionable Roy Yancy was fresh out of the Navy in 1995. Clean cut, proper, considered quite a charmer with the ladies, returned home to Truth or Consequences. A far cry from the young man who, in the mid-eighties, ran with a group of friends who many in the town considered a satanic cult made up of high-school-aged renegades. They spent their time wrecking highly organized and unsettling havoc, sacrificing pets of neighbors, delivering messages with occultist satanic symbols to people they didn’t like, and all sorts of mischief considered by police at the time to be criminal acts. Through investigations at the time, the best lead that police got were continuous references to someone described as “an older man named David” who had recently moved to Elephant Butte a few years prior, but were never able to definitively confirm who this David was.
Fresh out of the Navy with a new determination to walk the straight and narrow, he couldn’t help getting back into his old ways after becoming friends with Jesse Ray. The two were considered inseparable by most who knew them. Although Roy was considered a decent person, he was highly impressionable, with a dark side that few saw. Jesse, who knew him best, nurtured this darkness over the course of their friendship. Jesse re-introduced him into the world of occult satanism which she had picked up from her father. It’s unclear if satanism was strongly held beliefs, or simply theatrics to compliment the copious amount of bondage and sadomasochism that she and her father practiced.
The two soon became friends with a man named Kenneth Lee Lane, a 43-year-old loner from Florida. A flamboyant gay man who was rumored to have a steady supply of drugs, Roy and Jesse visited them frequently. Neighbors described seeing Roy visit him especially often, leaving with a devious smile on his face. It’s unclear what really happened, but when police were called to do a welfare check on Kenneth Lee on New Years day in 1996, after neighbors complained of a foul smell coming from his apartment, they found his badly decomposed body in the front room. Splashes of blood were found all around along with black candles and pentagrams drawn on the table. Amazingly, Kenneth’s death was ruled a suicide by metallic poisoning when they found a doorknob lodged in his rectum and his stomach filled with screws and bolts. No charges have ever been filed.
In July 1997, the following year, a former girlfriend of his that he had at one time been extremely close with, Marie Parker, was in dire financial ruin. Homeless, she pitched a tent on the shores of Elephant Butte Lake, and dropped her children off with a friend. Deciding to make a run to score drugs, she agreed to meet with Jesse and Roy. She ended up at knifepoint in the backseat of David Parker Ray’s truck, driven by Jesse as Roy restrained his former lover in the back seat. According to Roy’s confession, they drove to David Ray’s home and she was introduced to the toy box. He claims he never went inside where Jesse and her Father kept Marie for 3 days. During that time, police organized a massive search and rescue operation in an effort to find Marie.
At the end of the 3 days, Jesse and her father told Roy they were done with her and that it was “time for her to go.” They then brought Roy inside the toy box. Roy claims he walked inside to find his naked and helpless ex-girlfriend Marie strapped to the gynecological chair. Jesse handed him a rope and said “you know what you have to do.” With so much police scrutiny into Marie’s disappearance, David and Jesse were going to take no chances with her being found after they got what they wanted from her. David started the video recorder and Roy approached Marie with the rope. He claims that as Jesse pointed a gun at him, he strangled Marie to death with the rope. The videotape was never found and it’s been hypothesized that David sold the tape as a snuff film like he had done many other times.
In Roy’s confession to police a few years later, he claims that he, Jesse, and David, wrapped her body in a blanket, drove to Monticello Canyon near Truth or Consequences, and tossed her body into the ravine, descending down with shovels to bury it under loose dirt under cover of darkness.
The following day, Roy and Jesse left town and went to stay with an acquaintance in Galveston TX. They stayed for an entire year, waiting for the disappearance of Marie Parker to blow over. Years later, Roy led police to the exact spot they buried her but she was nowhere to be found. Roy speculated that David Ray must have returned later and removed the body, depositing it elsewhere.


As if this dark cast of characters needed any more to make this strange story any more complex, that’s exactly what happened soon after Roy and Jesse returned to Truth or Consequences a year later. Returning to the local bar scene, they drank and partied hard, soon gaining the attention of a woman who had moved to town while they were away named Cindy Hendy. It was later discovered that Cindy was herself on the run from the law, moving down to Truth and Consequences to hide from police in Washington state. With a rap sheet dating all the way back to 1979 with felonies such as larceny, forgery, drugs, and fraud, she wasn’t about to go back to prison after trying to sell cocaine to an undercover cop.
In a strange three-way relationship dynamic, Cindy soon began dating both Jesse and Roy, occasionally using David Parker Ray’s trailer as a sort of love nest. Soon David became involved in the arrangement as well, throwing lewd free-for-all parties with everyone sharing everyone. Cindy was especially interested in the bondage scene and they enthusiastically introduced her to their own personal flavor of it. Except Cindy was not going to be a victim of it.
As time went on, she and David became much closer and the relationship between them became exclusive. Roy had since begun a relationship with a man named David Riviera, and Cindy did her best to become a dutiful housewife figure for David Ray, fixing him lavish meals, cleaning his house, and doing everything she could to get his affection towards her, trying to fight off the competition of another woman fighting for David Ray’s affection at the same time.
On Halloween of 1998, David Ray threw a party in his trailer, complete with alleged instances of black magic and witchcraft performed by Cindy who had been recently introduced to witchcraft by Roy Yancy. After a supposed black magic sacrifice to the devil, Cindy loudly announced her relationship with David Parker Ray to all the guests in attendance, which many found strange since she was openly also having a relationship with his daughter Jesse at the same time.
Cindy and David became close, very quickly. David found an equal in Cindy… or at least someone impressionable enough, and wild enough to mold into the kind of companion he desired most. Slowly, he started letting her in closer and closer, revealing more about himself, testing the waters of what she was capable of handling.
Finally it was time to put her to the test. Cindy told David she was going out of town for a wedding. Leaving him behind without someone to satisfy his deviant carnal desires was unacceptable to him. By this point she was so far deep into the darkness he brought her into that his suggestion didn’t even phase her for a minute. They decided it was time to kidnap a woman to keep as a sex slave for David while she was away. Bringing her into the Toy Box, he gave her the grand tour and demonstrated on dolls his scientific and methodical practiced art of inflicting pain. She eagerly absorbed every word, and he gave her an 18-point list he had produced through years of practice at his dark craft. It was a set of instructions for kidnapping and torture.
The list is graphic, abhorrent, and I’m unwilling to read it in the video or post it here, but I’ll leave a link to a pastebin post with the list if you wish to read it. Although the transcript of the audiotape is pretty famous, it's pretty amazing to me that more people don't know about this list.
Over the next two years or so, Cindy Hendy was no longer an innocent bystander, simply an enabler, or even an accessory. She became an accomplice. Just as deviant, just as cruel, and just as guilty as David Parker Ray himself for the kidnap, torture, and murder of untold women. Just as eager to sadistically inflict pain and terror as her hopeful future husband.


(The woman who escaped in the intro)
It was night when David Parker Ray and Cindy Hendy arrived in Albuquerque, seeking their next victim. After speaking with a local pimp and offering $30 for services, a 22-year-old Cynthia Vigil Jaramillo stepped into the rusty, beat up RV.
As she entered the back of the camper, Ray produced a badge telling her that they were law enforcement. She tried to make a break for it back the way she came, but she was overpowered by the two of them, and a black leather mask slipped over her head, casting everything into blackness.
Hours later she found herself chained and bound, and as the mask was removed she heard a voice coming from a nearby recording…
Days later, after suffering unspeakable amounts of pain, terror, and abject humiliation at the hands of Ray and Hendy, Cynthia lay inside the house chained to the bed. David was at work while Cindy was in the kitchen preparing sandwiches. Although she was still chained and locked firmly in place, the keys to her restraints were carelessly left just out of reach. With little time before Cindy would surely come back, she inched her way closer and closer to the keys. Fumbling and trying not to make any noise, she managed to unlock herself. Knowing there was precious little time, she reached for the phone dialing 911. Before she could connect, Cindy burst into the room and they fought ferociously, Cynthia knowing full well that her life was at stake. They punched and kicked and clawed at one another. Cynthia reached out and grabbed ahold of a nearby ice pick and ferociously stabbed Cindy in the skull leaving a giant gash.
Screaming in terror, she ran down the street for her life, leaving the injured Cindy behind.
After the police rescued her after she was hiding in the trailer previously mentioned, the officers received notice of a 911-hangup call only blocks away. In a town this small where nothing happens, there was no way it wasn’t connected.
Rushing to 513 Bass Rd, the officers banged on the door. Receiving no answer, they allowed themselves in with probable cause of trouble. Finding shattered glass, blood, and endless amounts of pully systems and chains, they called for backup. They would need far more than backup. What they witnessed in the brief glance around David Parker Ray’s home was far more than the tiny police department of Elephant Butte was equipped to handle.


Nothing ever happens in Elephant Butte. A small town of 1300 people, most of them over the age of 65, no one could have expected the absolute pandemonium as more than 100 investigators from the New Mexico State Police and the FBI swarmed the town and especially 513 Bass Rd. Dozens of news stations from around the world. Helicopters circling overhead all day. The quiet little town of Elephant Butte where nothing ever happened had just been put on the map and was now known throughout the world, but for all the wrong reasons.
Investigators swarmed the small property, dividing it into 8 distinct search areas. They were having trouble getting a certain white cargo trailer open, and the keys were nowhere to be found. It took the locksmith only a few moments to get the deadbolt lock open. FBI Special Agent John Briscoe opened the small door into the cargo trailer and stepped inside.
“Holy shit”
He saw the chair, the syringes, the whips, the chains, strange metallic bars labeled “ankle spreader” and “knee spreader”, the satanic imagery adorning the shelves…. And a video camera. Could there POSSIBLY be actual video evidence of what the hell happened in here?
36-year-old FBI agent Patty Rust (I can’t confirm this is her record, but the dates seem to match up) crowded around the monitor inside the Toy Box with a few of her fellow agents as they loaded the first of hundreds of tapes found around the property. All of them, hands over their mouths, trying to hide the absolute shock of the things they saw before them on the screen. Despite years of work covering the worst crimes imaginable, they were still unprepared for what they saw on the screen before them. They’d seen enough for now. They ejected the tape and each exited the toy box. one of them vomited on the ground as soon as they got outside. It was far worse than anything any of them had ever encountered before.
Patty was asked to go back inside and create detailed sketches of everything she found within to hand over to the Evidence Response Team. She did as she was asked. Over the course of 5 days, she spent hours sketching every detail of every horrible thing she found in there. Getting a closer look at the horrors than anyone would ever feel comfortable with. After 5 days, she turned in her assignment and was told to go home and get some rest. She returned to her family in El Paso, TX. Just before midnight that night, she took out a revolver, held it against her head, and ended her own life.
Exceeded character limit!!!
submitted by jpagel to TrueCrime

Little Green Men: Disintegration VII



A scarlet sun scorched an otherwise arid world.
For Ishtar, it was nothing short of euphoric. The sunlight soothed her cold-blooded scales, and there was something lovely about feeling warm sand sifting between her clawed toes. Once her feet came into contact with an icy walkway composed of stone, Ishtar returned to wearing some sandals that she was carrying, then she approached an expansive spaceport with her scaly tail swaying in synchronization with her ample hips.
A door automatically parted upon sensing Ishtar's presence. Soon, she was greeted by an expansive interior bustling with traffic as other people moved throughout the vicinity. Despite the sheer number of zenari, the area was orderly and clean. Some were organized into neat lines next to security stations, while others walked to the right side of any open spaces, minimizing potential traffic issues. Electronic displays streamed information about ships entering or exiting the atmosphere. A few stray umok or sthara operated an array of adjacent businesses, stalls, and other complementary services similar to those within an airport.
However, what ultimately caught Ishtar's attention was a single word...
Ishtar's head perked up. She flicked her tongue from her mouth, simultaneously smelling and tasting the air, allowing her to sense something familiar. It quickly became apparent upon spotting a young zenari woman, who was rapidly moving towards her.
The sight made Ishtar smile. "Vinshu!"
After saying her name, Ishtar spread her arms out. Vinshu's tail rapidly wagged. It wasn't long before she embraced her mother with a hug, and onlookers watched on with smiles on their muzzles as the two nuzzled each other. When all was said and done, Ishtar looked down at her daughter. Although she was slightly shorter than herself, Vinshu had the same caramel-colored hide and glistening bronze scales, albeit her eyes were emerald green compared to Ishtar's amber-brown ones.
"Where is your younger brother?" asked Ishtar.
"He should be with his father!" chirped Vinshu in return. "As for me, I decided to arrive here by myself before waiting for everyone else."
Ishtar cocked her head slightly. "I see. Either way, it is fortunate that I was assigned to what seems to be a paradise world so close to everyone else! Speaking of which…"
She paused to stare at her daughter's outfit, which was minimalistic and designed for the hot weather. It was a stark contrast to Ishtar's more modest and traditional attire. More specifically, Vinshu's shirt exposed her slim and muscular stomach, but she lacked a belly button or breasts due to basic zenari biology.
As a result, Vinshu blinked a few times. "Is something wrong?"
"It just seems like younglings these days keep wearing more and more revealing clothing with each generation."
"Ah, so that means my clothes are somehow a problem?" asked Vinshu as she looked at her own sandals.
Ishtar sneered. "Not necessarily. The climate justifies your outfit a bit. However, if your brother wore something like that at your age, I would discipline him for immodestly exposing his torso and forearms!"
Vinshu shook her head. "Okay, elder."
"Nonetheless, we have many things to catch up on!" hissed Ishtar as she motioned at Vinshu to follow her. Afterward, they started strolling through the spaceport. "So… how has your time been in the hegemonic armed forces? It makes an old woman proud seeing a member of her bloodline following in her footsteps!"
At these words, Vinshu glanced at the ground. "It has been… satisfactory."
"Good! Have you decided upon a specialization yet?"
Vinshu's only response to Ishtar's question was silence.
"Perhaps even a leadership position like your mother?"
"Ah… no."
Ishtar narrowed her eyes. "Then what path are you following?"
"Military intelligence." answered Vinshu.
Ishtar immediately scoffed. "Bah. That position is usually reserved for the likes of other species. Plus it is an oxymoron! Regardless, what would make you decide upon... that... rather than becoming an officer or heavy infantry?"
"The aptitude test recommended it." answered Vinshu. "Additionally, it sounded more ideal than the likes of frontline combat on a regular basis..."
"And once again, you defy our traditions." replied Ishtar with narrowed eyes.
"What of it?"
"A member of the Makari bloodline has never traveled the path you are walking, my dear. Just as long as your service does not bring us shame, there shall be no issues, but it is… unorthodox. Some might even call the occupation cowardly. Unbefitting for our kind. Despite that, sometimes taking uncommon routes can lead to more unique destinations, for better or worse."
Vinshu looked to the side. "Traditions are not always a good thing."
"Please!" said Ishtar with a snort. "It is the essence of our collective wisdom that has survived the passage of time!"
"Yet, the Hegemony's enemies do not care for the old ways. That provides them with some advantages. Well… at least from what I have observed."
Ishtar stopped in place, prompting her daughter to do the same, then she put her hands on her hips. "Like what?"
"Do I even need to mention the perks of cybernetic implants?"
"Well, what you are suggesting is a form of deviancy, Vinshu. Only the joraxians are immoral enough to resort to such invasive measures! Oh, and do not get me started on what happens if a hacker, whether it be a person or an AI, manages to somehow gain remote access to any implants!"
Vinshu directed her attention towards a nearby snack stall as a few others stared at them. "Perhaps we should stop this heated conversation since there appears to be more important matters…"
Following her gaze, Ishtar found herself looking at a food stall. Small insects the size of various dogs were being coated in a sticky substance and allowed to crystallize. A zenari operating the booth scooped them into containers and added different flavorings, much like popcorn. It also helped that the zenari in question was a young and handsome man accompanied by colorful signs scattered around his particular stall.
Both of the women stuck out their tongues with their eyes going wide…
"Pamaken!" simultaneously mewled the two.
Each looked at one another afterward and did a mix of sneering and snickering. Like mother and daughter. Nonetheless, they approached the vendor one at a time and allowed an electronic device to scan devices similar to smartphones. A green light indicated when a payment was processed. Within a matter of moments, Vinshu and Ishtar walked away from the booth with food in tow, albeit the younger one decided upon something spicy, and the older of the two got something sweet. They did a mix of using their purple and serpentine tongues to constrict and suckle on some pamaken to savor it, then sharp fangs made quick work of whatever remained before they gulped it all down.
"Ah, this is so much better!" exclaimed Ishtar as they resumed their journey.
Vinshu made a crooked grin. "Agreed!"
And so, the youthful zenari followed the old soldier. They eventually managed to find seats for themselves near a boarding area, where a constant flow of people entered or exited various ships. Time seemed to pass by in a blur as they casually chatted. As the hours flew by, the sun started setting, and the smiles on their muzzles gradually transitioned into frowns.
Eventually, Vinshu checked the time on her smart device. "Why are they not here yet?"
"I do not know." answered Ishtar. She narrowed her eyes at a nearby electronic sign, which displayed projected arrival and departure times. "It concerns me. The civilian freighter should have arrived already."
"Should we do something?"
"No." answered Ishtar in a firm tone. "I shall do something and you will wait here."
Her daughter cocked her head to the side. "As you wish."
With that, Ishtar walked away with a flick of her tail. She approached the equivalent of a receptionist area and spotted two umok casually chatting behind a desk. A computer terminal and a large microphone partially concealed them. Nonetheless, Ishtar made her presence known by slamming a single fist, making both receptionists jump from their seats a little.
One looked at Ishtar with fear in her eyes. "Uh… can a receptionist help this one with something?"
"Yes." hissed Ishtar between barred fangs. "My husband and son were supposed to be here many hour equivalents ago."
The remaining receptionist perked up his head. "Does the woman recall the specific ship?"
Ishtar answered this question by pulling out her smart device, flicking through a few applications, then showing it to the duo. They both tilted their heads in the same direction once they saw crucial information, such as the ship's designation and departure time.
"Oh." chirped one of them.
"We have been getting tons of questions about that particular freighter from others within the lobby…"
Ishtar looked over her shoulder and spotted various people with concerned looks on their faces. A sthara was even crying at her seat. Afterward, she returned her attention to the receptionists.
"What questions?"
"This one… does not know?" asked a receptionist in return.
Ishtar scoffed. "I do not.”
One umok looked away while the other scratched the underside of his beak. "Um… the civilian freighter has sent out a distress signal. The specific type indicated that they were under attack by mactarian pirates. Since then… we have received no further communications."
In response, Ishtar remained silent for several long moments. Images of partially aquatic creatures similar to sharks flashed through her mind at the thought of mactarian pirates. Then she hissed. Consequently, the eyes of the receptionists go wide. There wasn't much they could do to stop the large woman as she leaned forward and grabbed one of them with a clawed hand. "What else do you know?"
"Nothing! NOTHING!" squawked the umok as Ishtar held him a vice grip.
"We are sorry!" said the remaining one as she backed away.
The commotion caught the attention of others present as they stopped what they were doing to stare. Security guards also began heading towards the scene. As for Ishtar, her world started spinning as she released the receptionist, stumbled backward, then pressed both hands against her head. "This… THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING!"
When she opened her eyes, the receptionists were gone. Not to mention the security guards, civilians, and even her daughter. Her jaw went agape. "Wait… what? Vinshu? Where is she?"
Suddenly, the lights in the facility went out. Although Ishtar could see in the dark, her surroundings appeared to be slowly fading away for some bizarre reason. The woman began stumbling her way through the area as she made her way towards the last known location of her daughter.
"Where did you go, Vinshu?!"
Ishtar could feel her heart thumping in her chest as her eyes narrowed.
"Please say something!" The woman paused to choke back some tears rapidly forming in her eyes. "I do not want to be alone again!"
Over time, her surroundings disappeared. The battlemaster suddenly found herself standing amid a black void where the only company was herself. She frantically looked around in all directions and began muttering to herself.
"Everything is so cold…"
Something that felt like electricity surging down her spine until it reached the tip of her tail made her shudder. Without warning, Ishtar felt the ground beneath her feet dissolving as if it was quicksand. The moment she looked down was precisely when she started falling, resulting in the woman screaming as tears surged down her muzzle. A bizarre set of sights flashed before her, including snow-dusted corpses next to destroyed human vehicles, a pair of catlike and cyan eyes, and a brief glimpse of her missing son crying. Lastly, an ear-piercing siren caused her to go into a full-blown panic as she swatted claws in all directions.
When Ishtar blinked and opened her eyes once more, she found herself lying on a bed. She jolted upwards while heaving in and out, complete with her tongue sticking out of her muzzle as it momentarily twitched. It took her approximately half a minute to calm down as she held her head in her hands.
"...Not again."
Ishtar internally questioned her sanity when she kept hearing a siren blaring. A quick glance at the room revealed everything was how she left it... except for a bewildered human standing on her desk. She heard Sasha making some faint vocalizations, but without any way of translating them, her barely audible voice came across as complete nonsense if it wasn't interrupted by the sirens.
Nonetheless, Ishtar got to her feet. She urgently walked to the tent's entrance. When she opened the tent flap, a flurry of activity greeted her. Soldiers were scurrying throughout the vicinity with their weapons ready, hegemonic troop transports were arriving as they descended from the skyline, and vehicles were hovering around the area. She wiped away any teardrops still lingering on her face as whatever cold and sad feelings lingering in her heart served as the perfect kindling for a newfound sense of fiery hot rage. Moments later, Ishtar nearly growled at some nearby soldiers helping one another with their armor.
"What the hell is happening?"
They stopped what they were doing and looked at her. Ishtar responded with a death stare, and her height advantage over most of them only added onto her intimidating aura. Eventually, an augmented voice emitted from a soldier wearing a helmet. "Joraxian troops have made landfall."
That was all the information that Ishtar required as she disappeared back into her tent. The slits of her eyes narrowed once the sirens stopped blaring, but it did little to stop the woman from retrieving various pieces of gear from underneath her bed. She also ignored a human shouting at her. Then Ishtar began meticulously putting on her armor, albeit it was a complicated process by herself, and soon a chest piece forged from alien alloys overlapped her skin-tight shirt. Once she put on her helmet, augmented reality vision greeted her while a familiar human voice became far more comprehensible...
"-even understand me?!" shouted Sasha as she clenched her fists. "You big, stupid bitch!"
[I can now.] hissed Ishtar while a human voice bellowed from her helmet.
The color practically drained from Sasha's face before she became dead silent.
[Your petty insults only show how powerless you are, Sasha. They do not offend me. As much as I would love to lecture you about your poor and moronic behavior, I have more pressing matters to attend to.] Ishtar paused to strap some armor into place after putting on her boots. [Speaking of which, a worst-case scenario has just occurred. I'm afraid that it could endanger both you and Suko.]
"Then… what's going on?" asked Sasha while she stumbled back.
Ishtar put on some gauntlets, which had tiny openings for the claws on her hands. [Other species hostile to the Hegemony are currently landing on your homeworld. I'm assuming they want to seize this planet and its resources for themselves rather than allowing us to have it.]
"There's even more aliens…?!"
[Correct.] As Sasha reacted with complete bewilderment, Ishtar grabbed a sizable piece of flexible armor designed to cover most of her tail. She was forced to bring her tail to the front of her body before slowly sliding it on, where she simply strapped it into its proper place. [As before, I expect you to take care of Suko during my absence. Any escape attempts will be harshly punished. Ideally, I can also return with supplies and other materials required for humans to survive.]
Sasha looked down from the desk and at the ground, where she saw nothing but darkness. "I'm not sure if I even want to try escaping considering all of this insanity going on..."
Last but not least, Ishtar picked up her plasma rifle. [Have I not been a good host?] Before the human could respond, she activated her weapon's power core, barely illuminating the room with a faint orange glow. [Actually, your answer doesn't matter. You don't exactly have much of a decision in this matter… but we'll talk about that later. It would be for the best if you just accepted your situation.]
Sasha's only response came in the form of crossing her arms.
Meanwhile, Ishtar disabled her translation software. She made sure her armor was secured, then briefly patted down her body with a free hand to make sure she didn't miss anything. Within mere moments, the battlemaster strolled away from Sasha, exited the tent, and sealed the flap before leaving it all behind to deal with the ongoing chaos.
Her first impulse was to find others within her warpack. Out of the many soldiers swarming the deployment zone, she saw one with distinctive white armor. Rare blue scales visible through the visor of his helmet made it crystal clear who he was. Others were also assembling before him, including familiar faces such as Specialist Andraste.
"Ensign Deimo!"
Despite Ishtar's shouting, the young officer resumed speaking to the others. While grinding her fangs, the battlemaster sifted through their ranks, where she swiftly found other members of her warpack awaiting her. They were all neatly lined up with their weapons at the ready. Some thunder roared above them, but it was hard to tell if it came from a storm, the vehicles, or the many ships flying across the sky.
"...And we will be receiving little to no orbital support." hissed Deimo to the soldiers assembled before him. "Additionally, be warned that humans may actually be able to organize themselves now that they are no longer being relentlessly bombed from orbit. We can thank the joraxians for that. Regarding our own unit, it is being sent to reinforce various soldiers attempting to capture materials and information crucial to understanding the alien technology that these primitive humans are using against us. That is all I have to say since time is of the essence. Are there any questions?"
The various soldiers either cocked or shook their heads.
"Then everyone knows what to do..." continued Deimo, "Move out!"
At his words, the soldiers saluted him. They all took one step back and moved out of the formation, then reassembled themselves around their respective pack leaders. Some followed Ishtar like lost puppies as she forced her way towards Deimo with fire in her eyes.
The man in question turned to face her. "Ah, Ishtar. Do you have any questions or require anything else? I do not have the luxury of being patient."
"Of course!" answered Ishtar. "What exactly is my warpack getting into?"
"As I said, the objective is to assist others with recovering unorthodox human technology." replied Deimo, blowing air from his nostrils.
"And we are doing this while SAP forces are making planetfall?" Ishtar only stopped speaking to scoff. "That is madness. What sort of human weapons are we even talking about?"
Deimo looked to the side. "This one only knows that they are called nukes."
"Nukes…?" repeated Ishtar like a parrot.
"They are apparently some sort of human bombs that destroyed hegemonic troop transports during the start of the invasion." explained the ensign. "Oddly enough, details about them are mostly classified. Our orders are also very strange, all things considered, but I felt obligated to inform you about it anyway considering our circumstances."
"Bah… so be it." muttered Ishtar. "Questioning orders is also proving to be a pointless endeavor."
Without bothering with responding, she led her warpack away and towards an awaiting infantry transport in the distance. More thunder also made itself known as lightning streaked across the sky. Something about the entire situation sent chills down Ishtar's spine as the word 'Nuke' rattled throughout her skull, but she suppressed her thoughts to focus on the task ahead.

Mactarian Species Reference

submitted by RetroInferno to HFY

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