“See? That’s the first symptom of advanced lung cancer. My teacher told us that if we smoke, we’ll keep coughing until our hearts and lungs fall out.” The sound of the kid’s voice brought the Detective back into reality, his head spinning slightly from the coughing. The Detective was on one knee, holding his chest and looking around to see if the kid was with anyone. The kid went over to the lamp pose to balance his red backpack on his leg.
“Here you go sir, I have some water in my sportsbottle pro. My daddy got it for me. Because I play soccer. So I have to stay hydated.” the kid said with a wide toothy grin. The Detective hesitated at first, but took the sportsbottle from the kid. To his surprise, the contents of the sportsbottle wasn’t water, or rather just water. The liquid was sweet and sour at the same time, gagging the Detective.
“What the hell is this kid?” the Detective said as spat out the water, both confused and very disgusted.
“Water.” the kid said.
“This isn’t water. What is this?”
“No….. It's water.” the kid said back. The kid started to fidget with his bag strap as he looked at the sportsbottle with possible worry. The Detective decided to apply a bit more pressure.
“Kid, this isn’t water. This tastes nothing like water. This almost killed me.” The Detective explained.
“No, smoking almost killed you. You was coughing before I gave you my water.” The kid replied. Fucking smart ass, the Detective thought. He chuckled softly as he slowly shook his head. The silence stood between the Detective and the kid for a moment until he felt something off about the contents within the sportsbottle.
“So what exactly is this then?” The Detective said, shaking the bottle. As he shook the bottle, the Detective started to realize why the kid almost jumped to get his bottle back. Just for more clarity, the Detective shook the bottle slower as the kid hesitated and stook a cautious step back. He looked over at the kid, whose hat somehow covered his face, trying to speak calmly and friendly.
“What else did you put inside this bottle?” The Detective asked with a skewed smile.
“Granny May’s Sweet and Sour Marbles………They have cool designs before you eat them.” The kid answered in a sullen voice, his hand stretched out toward the bottle. Letting out a sigh, the Detective finally rose to his feet.
“Thanks kid. Don’t let your dad find out you're putting candy in your sportsbottle.” the Detective said as he dusted his pants off. He handed the bottle back to the awaiting child, who quickly grabbed it back. He watched as the kid walked down the sidewalk until he got to the corner and dumped the contents of the bottle.
“Crazy kid.” the Detective said to himself shaking his head. Granny May….sounds so familiar. The Detective thought. He looked down to see his E-Cigar in bits on the ground.
“Looks like it's gonna be a rough night.” He said to himself while he kicked the bits of the E-Cigar towards the street. Before he got the last bit into the street, his wrist started to vibrate.
INCOMING CALL: CAPTAIN.
“Rise and shine Detective.” The Captain said as soon as the Detective answered the call.
“Evening Captain. Have anything for me Captain?” The Detective asked.
“Actually I do. Unfortunately, it’s an old case. About a year ago, before Cassie retired, a woman was found dead in a motel room just off the southern bridge leaving Laerton. Everything pointed to the boyfriend, until he turned up dead too. To make matters even worse, the morgue botched one of the bodies.”
“Whose body got botched?” the Detective asked as he entered his Moto Khan.
“The--ah, damn it. Sorry Detective, getting an important phone call. Head to the morgue for the rest.” The transmission ended abruptly leaving the Detective in silence. The Detective took a deep breath as he realized there’s never a good reason to go to the morgue nowadays.
“I hate the morgue.”
The drive to the morgue was too short for the unenthusiastic Detective. He parked and stepped out into the cool air of the night. The Detective examined the outside of the building with his eyes, hoping maybe nobody was here tonight. I hate cold cases. I hate morgues. I’ve been down this road one too many times, seen one too many friends in the wrong places. Cold cases and morgues. The worse combo since-
“Good evening Detective.” a voice said from behind the Detective. The Detective suddenly jumped and almost reached for his service weapon. An old man stepped out of the shadows and the two stood in silence for a moment.
“Planning on giving me an early retirement?” The old man strolled into the streetlight with a grin as he watched the Detective’s hand. The Detective let out a sigh and straightened himself out.
“No Otto, you just know how to make an entrance.” the Detective huffed.
“Thank you, shooting me would’ve been the perfect ending.” Otto chuckled.
“Now why would you say that?” The Detective asked, trying not to smirk in front of Otto’s serious expression.
“Every grand entrance has a stunning ending. Just imagine after the investigation is done and everyone finds out you shoot an elderly coworker because you were scared out of your daydreams. Quite the headline, don’t you think?” A slick mischievous smirk cracked across the face of the old man. The Detective happily joined in with the smiling and laughing.
“I prefer to lose my job on my own terms, if you don’t mind. But I’m here about a cold case, something about a botched body. Knowing anything about it?” the Detective asked, looking towards the building briefly. He was hoping Otto would tell him to return tomorrow. To his slight displeasure, he received a different response.
“I’m leaving for the night. But that back page college hire is in there. Ask him.” Otto snapped.
“Otto, you know its going to be time for you to retire soon. You knew they were planning on finding your replacement. Why are you so upset about the situation?” the Detective asked. Otto shook his head while wagging his finger at the Detective.
“I knew that five years prior to all of this. I’ve been giving them well qualified replacements. Very few around my age, maybe 2. But I thought maybe I’d give the higher ups an easier time. Showing them I’m aware of the future and my departure. But instead of appreciation or even respectable recognition, I got my face spat on, my suggestions ignored and told to train someone new five months before I retire.” Otto huffed, his face twisted in discontent. The weight of disdain and emotional pain sat in the air as the Detective tried to find a proper response. After a few moments, the Chief Coroner looked towards the street as a blue HoveCraft quietly parked nearby.
“It seems my ride home is here. Have a good night Detective. Arrivederci.” Otto shook the Detective’s hand and briskly walked towards the blue HoveCraft. Even though the Detective watched, it still felt like the Chief Medical Examiner floated to the car. The Detective gazed on as the car floated off the ground gracefully before zooming off into the night sky.
The Detective took his time walking into the morgue. The lady at the front desk barely noticed him, letting him in with a simple flash of his badge.
“Anyone here tonight?” The Detective asked the lady at the desk. Without looking over the desk she pointed down the hall. He nodded and shuffled down the hall. As the Detective made his way towards Otto’s office he realized he never met the new guy. Lately there was no need for him to meet the new assistant until today. I hope Otto’s jokes haven’t rubbed off on him. The Detective hoped. As he got closer, he began to hear some sort of commotion from the office. It sounded as if the assistant wasn’t alone, but he wasn’t sure who the voices belonged to. The closer he got the clearer the voice started to get. Whatever was going on, it was clearly an argument. Stepping slowly and softly, the Detective waited to hear who the aggressor was. Two voic-- wait, three? The office is oddly full tonight. The deepest voice sounded if they were trying to deescalate the situation. The second deepest voice, possibly a man also, wasn’t giving up any ground in the argument. The last voice was higher in pitch and emotion, which led the Detective to assume the voice belonged to a woman who was maybe in her late twenties or early thirties. She seemed to be the aggressor, also not giving up on the argument. He crept closer to the office, closing the distance with each careful step. What could possibly be happening to have me creeping in a morgue like this? He thought to himself as he finally was within arms reach of the office door. The Detective knew there were two possible options, many scenarios at hand. Before he could think any longer, the aggressor said words the Detective knew required immediate intervention.
“It’s a good night outside. Let’s try not to ruin it by saying something stupid.”
The Detective sprung into action, swinging the door open.
“I agree. Let’s not act foolishly tonight.” His deep and powerful voice bounced off the walls. Which, to much of the Detective's surprise, made the assistant jump directly out of his chair. The startled man hit the floor hard and immediately began to recollect himself. He watched as a small thin man scrambled to turn off the big TV.
“Do you often watch movies on the clock?” the Detective asked flatly. He glanced down at the floor, seeing paper with random notes scrambled across them. Was he…..studying?
“Uh….. I-I-I-I’m usually here by myself.” the man stammered, collecting the papers that went flying in the wake of his scrambling.
“M-M-M-May I help you?” the man asked as he finished shuffling papers into neat piles.
“I’m going to assume you’re Otto’s new assistant?” the Detective asked. The thin man stared blankly at the Detective for a few moments before the Detective asked another question.
“Are you Otto’s assistant or are you a new janitor playing dress up? We have had a surprising amount of those recently.” the Detective with a sigh. The Detective wasn’t sure if the man in front of him could hear him or if he was just unable to understand what was being asked of him. Just as the Detective was about to repeat himself, the skinny man fixed his glasses and lifted a finger to him. The Detective automatically halted, realizing no one has told him to be quiet in quite some time.
“W-W-W-Who is this ‘Otto’ you're talking about? I-I-I-I don’t know anyone by that name here. O-O-O-Or at all in life.” the man said, a serious expression sitting behind his glasses.
There is no way. Did he really do that? The Detective quickly thought and with a sigh he shook his head and took half a step forward, grabbing a piece of paper off a nearby table.
“Are you the assistant to the Chief Medical Examiner here, Dr.Gazilecker?” the Detective said slowly. The man nodded and his serious stare turned into a face of confusion.
“W-W-W-Why of course. H-H-H-How come you didn’t ask me that earlier? M-M-M-My name is Barry Bensons.W-W-W-What can I do for you?” Barry said with a smile and hand out. The Detective realized how Otto was treating his new assistant and decided to leave well enough alone. Too much drama for his own liking.
“Yea. There was a case brought here about a year ago by a former Detective named Cassandra Jenkins. Not sure if the case is listed as a murder or a double homicide, the details of this case are all over the place. I was also informed that there was a mistake made on one of the bodies. I need to know which one.” The Detective explained after shaking Barry’s hand. There was an odd silence as the Detective waited for the assistant to respond.
“I-I-I-I’m sorry, what do you need from me exactly?” Barry asked.
“I said there was a case brought here about a year ago by a former Detective named Cassandra Jenkins. I’m not sure if the case is listed as a murder or a double homicide. The details of this case are all over the place. I was also informed that there was a mistake made on one of the bodies. I need to know which one.”
Once again, silence filled the room as Barry stared blankly as the Detective. The Detective glanced over at the TV, making sure it was off and not just on mute. You gotta be kidding me.
“W-W-W-What?” Barry whispered. Confusion filled Barry’s eyes and the Detective began to remind himself about the countless seminars on composure and treating fellow colleagues with professional respect. The Detective repeated himself again. Barry’s confused expression gradually increased as the Detective kept talking. The Detective decided it was time for a shortcut to get what he needed.
“Show the list of bodies brought within the last year. Only the ones connected to Detective Jenkins.” the Detective said. A wave of relief hit both the Detective and seemingly the assistant.
Finally on the same page. The Detective exhaled loudly as Barry jogged over to one of the desktops and clacked away for a few seconds. The printer spat out some papers and Barry happily brought them to the Detective. The Detective swiped the papers out his hand, much to Barry’s surprise and began to scan the paper.
“Show me this body. Then this body. And then show me the mistake.” the Detective said. Barry nodded and led the Detective out of the office and into a cold room downstairs, where the walls were filled with drawers.
Once in the room the Detective looked around and immediately realized how the bodies got mixed up. He can’t read Otto’s handwriting. The Detective thought as he watched Barry squint at each label on the drawers.
“Is Ott-, I mean, is Dr. Gazilecker’s writing is still hard to decipher?” The Detective asked as he stood to the side, watching as the assistant began to peak inside the drawers. Barry laughed nervously, moving a bit more quickly as he answered the Detective.
“Heh, I-I-I-I don’t even think he’s writing in English.” Barry joked. The sudden silence made Barry uneasy until the Detective chuckled softly to himself, easing the burden of embarrassment off of the nervous assistant.
“T-T-T-There is no telling which bed holds which body when trying to understand Dr. Gazilecker’s system. S-S-S-So complex…..” Barry muttered off as he continued to scan the drawers.
“Ah, I see. He’s probably still using that memory system he showed me when I came here for the first time. Let’s see if I’m right.” The Detective offered with his hand waiting. The nervous assistant quickly handed the clipboard to him and ran back over to the drawers, waiting for the first name. After what felt like ages of searching drawers and rereading the list, the Detective helped the poor assistant in his searching. He had also shown Barry how to understand Otto’s system, so he won’t forget it in a tight situation. Apparently Otto had explained it to him once before, but the one and only time he did was when Barry claimed to be suffering from a headache. I wonder if it has more to do with his absent-minded antics, but that’s not important right now. The Detective thought to himself. After what was probably an hour they finally found the right drawer.
“O-O-O-Okay, this is it. D-D-D-Deceased victim’s name is Mary Col-” Barry squinted at the page as hard as he could, then shook his head.
“I guess it’s just Mary then. Open the drawer already.” The Detective’s patience had worn out for the night. Barry pulled the drawer all the way out a bit too fast, stumbling as the drawer rattled outward.
“O-O-O-Ola la la.P-P-P-Pretty lady she used to be.” Barry said in a low voice after catching his balance. Barry looked up to see if the Detective heard what he said but found the Detective’s attention pulled elsewhere. The Detective stared at the body, oddly mesmerized by her features. He let his eyes drift up down the body slowly, looking for ways the body could’ve been messed up. was locked on the woman in front of them. Her face may have a pale blue hue about it, but it was clear to see her beauty frozen in place. The victim’s dirty blonde hair laid perfect behind her head, acting as a soft cushion. Without knowing the Detective’s hand slowly reached towards the lady’s face.
“D-D-D-Don’t you want a glove, sir?” Barry whispers trailed off into the empty air as he watched the Detective inch closer by the second. “I-I-I-I can try to answer any questions you have, if you like….” Barry’s second attempt to garner the Detective’s attention failed yet again, as the Detective remained silent. His hand continued to creep closer to her face, his fingertips dragging gracefully up her neck and along her jawline. Soon the Detective’s hand made its way to the woman's eyelid. He hesitated for a second, not sure what he was doing or why he was doing it. Hold on………what was it the Captain wanted me to do here again? The Detective’s own thoughts seemed to be distant to him as he tried to remember what his objective was. As the seconds grew on the impulses grew stronger and stronger. Soon, his resistance broke. The Detective gently lifted the eyelid to reveal a blacked out eyeball.
“Hello, my Detective.”
A sharp vibrating pain sent shockwaves through his face, catching him completely off guard. The Detective shouted in pain as he fell backwards, but even as he quickly braced for the floor he felt the floor disappear beneath him. He began to fall into an endless cloud of smoke that began to slowly take all the air out of his chest. Memories whisked past his eyes in seconds, the day he rode a bike for the first time, his first fight, his father’s death, everything. His greatest accomplishments and deepest failures he kept a secret zooming by as if it was racing against light itself. The Detective began to remember everything slowly and also started to realize what was going on. Everything was silent. The thick smoke still surrounded him but none of it was coming at him. The air felt peaceful, just for a moment his curiosity got the better of him. He slowly reached out and the smoke quickly crawled up his arm and rushed into his head via his nostrils. Suddenly all the noise returned, crippling the Detective to his knees within the smoke.. Sounds of people moving , cars flying by, machines humming. He clutched the sides of his head as he tried to withstand the pain stoically. The sudden burst of noise felt powerful enough to make the Detective’s head explode. But even in the midst of the Detective’s super migraine, there was a sound that started to take over.
1-2..1-2..3
The other sounds quickly became background noises as the sound repeated itself, until the Detective couldn’t take that any longer. Through clenched eyes the Detective began to witness something he could explain. Without a doubt defying all logical sense, the Detective looked up to a floating face within the smoke before him. Within a few seconds the face came into focus, revealing itself to be the woman from the morgue. Her face no longer a long gone hue of blue, it was filled with color. Almost as if she was alive. And, for the first time in a very long time, the Detective felt absolute fear run through his body. He knew this face could not be a random woman. But even in the deepest part of his heart he couldn’t tell who she was. And this scared him. The feeling of certain dread, but from an unknown source. He felt as if he was a church mouse looking in the face of a jaguar. Just as everything seemed to be coming to a close, the woman spoke.
“My Detective……………DO NOT RISE. FAIL.”
The Detective let out an agonizing howl of pain for what felt like forever. Just as fast as the pain and smoke came, it went away.
The Detective snapped awake on the side of the road, the streetlight flickering above him. The Detective remained still for a moment and grabbed his chest. He waited for a few moments. He realized his heart wasn’t beating, but yet he was breathing. Concerned, he pressed his hand against his chest harder. A beat, small, but very reassuring at the moment. He exhaled heavily as he leaned on the brick wall behind him as he rose to his feet. He turned toward the street and saw a kid walking by, dragging his red backpack behind him. Even fully winded, the Detective took pity on the child.
“Hey kid, what's wrong? Why are you dragging your pack?” he called out.
The boy stopped and looked across the street towards the Detective.
…..Was he always across from me? The Detective thought as he watched the kid slowly turn around and begin to cross. Luckily the roads were typically empty late at night, so the child wasn’t in any immediate danger. Once across, the kid walked up to the Detective and took off his hat, revealing his face. The Detective could feel his heart now, since it both sank to his feet and was now beating at an alarming rate within the matter of mere seconds. He looked down at the kid, still dragging his red backpack, with his face full of tears and a runny nose. The kid spoke.
“Our daddy died today. I’m gonna miss when he did this to me.” The young kid said. The Detective stared at the kid stunned, finally realizing who exactly the kid was. It was his younger self. The Detective remained speechless as the kid sucked in as much air as his chest could hold and blew a thick cloud of smoke into the Detective’s face, sending his head into another spiral.