Ch. 1--Open Investigation
“No
pills? Cuts? Needle markings? Nothing, completely unmarked?” detective Goldberg
asked the physician once again. The physician, once again, nodded. Goldberg put
his hand over his mouth, then rubbed his chin. “Then what the hell killed him?”
“His brain is, or was, also
functioning just fine before the time of death,” the physician asked. “I’ve
studied many, many suicides, sir.
Most I would like to forget. But this takes the cake.”
“So then, how do we know it’s a
suicide?” Goldberg asked, looking from the physician to his two detective
allies behind him.
“Nobody had been in or out of the
house since the night before,” replied the detective. “Lives right across the
street from me. He had a few drinking problems back in the day, but if it was
anything from that it would be extremely easy to spot, and it wouldn’t really
require a physician.”
Goldberg scratched his head. “Guy’s
not even pale, it’s like he’s just in a coma.”
“No, he’s dead. His brain is shut
down, his heart isn’t beating, none of his muscles seem to be, I supposed,
‘on.’ Then again, looks like he hasn’t had to worry about that for a while.”
“What?” Goldberg asked. “What do you
mean by that?”
“Well for probably the past week, week and a half maybe, his muscles have been slowing shutting down, slowing up body activity until it finally came to a halt and now, well he’s dead.”
“Well for probably the past week, week and a half maybe, his muscles have been slowing shutting down, slowing up body activity until it finally came to a halt and now, well he’s dead.”
“Muscle degradation?”
“No. Just, muscle slowing down-age.”
“And what could cause this?” asked
Goldberg, thinking he was onto something. The physician was obviously his best
hope here for figuring out what happened at 2123 Elm Tree Street last night at
apparently around two in the morning.
“Lack of brain activity, simple as
that.”
“Wouldn’t that also induce muscle
spasms?” asked Goldberg, trying to think critically since the situation, and
his job, called for it.
“I can check for any. If so then
this isn’t a suicide it’s just a strange case and nothing to really worry
about.”
“A dead man is always something to worry about. But we’ll give you time to check it out. Let’s go boys, to the hall.”
“A dead man is always something to worry about. But we’ll give you time to check it out. Let’s go boys, to the hall.”
Goldberg and his two assistants
moved out of the room and into the bustling hallway. The reporters had, for the
most part left, but were ravenous to find out about the man who died of
nothing. That meant that either the story had died down or they were giving it
an hour or so until they could get an update.
The house was very well put
together, though not to the point of suspicious. Some magazines were scattered
on the counter in the room and a pair of shoes were sitting in the middle of
the hallway. He turned into the study, keeping his hand unconsciously on the
butt of his gun. He peered in, nodding to his assistants to go into the room.
Suddenly, a rock soared into the
room, shocking the two assistants and forcing Goldberg to draw his gun. He
rushed outside and saw three young men in masks standing outside. One had a
fist raised and the other two had rocks in their hands, though they were raised
just like their ally.
“How many does that make that?”
shouted the one without the rock.
Their masks were plain white, only
with holes for the eyes. From the distance he was standing at, Goldberg
couldn’t at all see into it and peer into their eyes but it hardly mattered.
Goldberg kept his gun raised yet the young men seemed completely unfazed by
this.
“Get over here now!” shouted
Goldberg. Still, though, the boys would not move.
“How many?” he repeated. “This
street is riddled with the dead and we want answers, and we will not back down
until we have them!”
He aimed his arm forward, and the
two boys, with incredible strength and accuracy, hurled the rocks at Goldberg.
Goldberg hesitated to try and shoot but instead decided to take the safe route
and shielded himself. The two rocks hit his forearm and leg, stinging Goldberg.
“Sir!” shouted his assistants,
sprinting up to him. They took out their weapons and started after the three
boys.
“No, wait!” shouted Goldberg. “It’s
fine, they’re just kids, they’re not a big deal.”
They nodded. Goldberg put his weapon
away, signaling for the other two to do the same.
“Let’s just see if we can find
anything,” Goldberg said.
The three masked points continued
their plight in the woods, sprinting as fast as they could. Their leader, also
running the fastest, was almost laughing hysterically. They were all about
fifteen feet from each other and were showing off impressive athleticism as
they dodged trees and bushes without missing a beat.
I watched, sitting atop a branch
hidden from their plain sight. I put my hand up to my ear, listening in to what
Zachary and Pete were saying.
“Okay, guys, I’ve got them,” I said.
“How much do I pursue?”
“Just take them down and give them
to the cops, then check out the scene,” Pete said.
“Alright, broken limbs it is,” I
said, and leapt off the branch.
I tucked, rolled, then threw a
diamond shard into the leg of the one on the right. I dashed after him with my
super speed, quickly scooping up his mask and leaping back into the air.
The other two escapees turned
around, slowing down slightly.
I appeared from behind a tree,
jogging close to them. I shrugged, moving past them. The two other boys also
shrugged but kept on running. In my right hand I formed a diamond shard, then
instantly moved in.
I dove at the leader, knocking him
down with ease before spinning around, staying on my feet, and stabbing into
the arm of the one on the left, then elbowed him in the back the neck and
knocked him out. The mask-less one was coming at us now, limping, but he fell
to a shard in the thigh.
In a daze, the leader looked around.
I kept my mask on, but pushed him into a tree. He was still conscious, somehow,
after all that. I gripped him by the collar and lifted him up.
“I’ll start with an answer to your
question,” I said, keeping my voice the same since it was muffled by the mask.
“Eleven people on Elm Tree have died so far from the same cause and nobody
knows why. Thirty more in the
neighborhood are dead and there are one hundred people in this county alone
that are dead. I’m also well aware that ten more people are dead because of
your kind, whatever you call yourselves. Well whatever you are, you’re
anarchists.”
“No, we want the truth,” he said through the pain.
“Nobody dies like this, it’s a conspiracy, man, and we’re here to stop it!”
“You people are the reason there are over a hundred deaths!” I shouted, shoving him against the tree again. This time he was hanging onto consciousness on a very thin line. “The more goddamn attention you call to it means whoever is doing it is going to keep doing it because they want attention.” I paused, almost smiling behind my mask. “And Halloween in a few days, that’s probably it too.”
“You people are the reason there are over a hundred deaths!” I shouted, shoving him against the tree again. This time he was hanging onto consciousness on a very thin line. “The more goddamn attention you call to it means whoever is doing it is going to keep doing it because they want attention.” I paused, almost smiling behind my mask. “And Halloween in a few days, that’s probably it too.”
“Who…the hell are you anyway?” he
asked. “Not one of us, too young to be a cop…”
“You might know me by what the media
calls me,” I said.
“Gurgh, gah, at?” he bumbled.
“The Diamond Boy,” I said, and
tossed him away. He landed on his butt before sprawling out on the ground,
completely gone but not dead.
I ripped off the mask, peeling of
some of the paint while I was at it. I looked around at the three bodies and
sighed.
“May have overdone it,” I said.
“You know, Axel, these guys aren’t
the Assassins,” Zachary pointed out. “They’re fragile.”
I looked around at them almost
exasperated. “Who the hell is pulling the strings here, man? I’ve been here for
a week and out of all the guys I’ve fought from this group are a bunch of older
high schoolers and early college kids.”
“They’re the perfect patch,” Zachary
said. “Why not pick from kids who are unsure of their ideals yet? Plus, when
something like this happens, in our liberal society, everyone is going to want
to take the side of answers and freedom instead of helping the police look for
it.”
I laughed. “That was a pretty hefty political statement there, Zachary.”
I laughed. “That was a pretty hefty political statement there, Zachary.”
“Yeah, damn dude,” Pete said. “Been
working with you for what feels like forever and I’ve never heard that out of
you.”
“Look, this kind of stuff just gets
under my skin,” Zachary said.
“Yeah well some psycho who’s on a
kill streak of over a hundred people in the area gets under my skin,” I said. I
looked up and leapt into the bushes, watching as an armadillo rolled up next to
one of the unconscious bodies. “Cops are helping with the investigation,
either. Hate to keep asking but why’d you send me?”
“Because you’re the best equipped
out of all of us to take on a guy of this caliber,” Pete said. “Well, and
Tommy, but, hey, Tommy, where are you, anyway?”
There was a pause. I raised my hand to my earpiece, tapping it, wondering if Tommy were even there. A small chill come through the air, making me shake for a second. I adjusted my hood to cover my neck. My jacket was warming my arms just fine and since I was squatting my legs were warm anyway.
There was a pause. I raised my hand to my earpiece, tapping it, wondering if Tommy were even there. A small chill come through the air, making me shake for a second. I adjusted my hood to cover my neck. My jacket was warming my arms just fine and since I was squatting my legs were warm anyway.
“Oh, yeah, I was just down on
Voorhees Lane,” Tommy said. “There were a few guys here but when the saw me
prowling around they split. Must have headed over to Elm Tree.”
“They were probably just looking for
the cops,” I said. “Just makes you wonder how long until they start shooting
bullets instead of throwing rocks.”
“Right around the same time that
they get ammunition, undoubtedly,” Zachary said. “The town is small enough to
the point where it’d be noticed but now that over a hundred people are dead in
the county I’m surprised more people haven’t taken up arms.”
“Doesn’t seem to be much use,” Tommy
said. “From all the bodies we’ve examined, guns won’t stop the people from
dying.”
“It’ll stop the person behind it
all,” Pete put in.
I hugged the tree and dropped down,
starting my walk toward the house again. The neighborhood was large and Elm
Tree street was the main road. Most of the houses faced a forest that separated
it from the middle school, which was probably where the masks were headed to
when they made their break. I was assigned Elm Tree and Tommy Voorhees, which
would be the last scan of the neighborhood for us. We’d cover three in one week
and more bodies just kept on piling up.
I cleared the forestry and chucked a
mask I picked up toward the cop car. It dinged off of the hood, catching an
officer’s attention. He called for the detective and walked inside the house.
While he was distracted, I dashed for the car, hiding behind it. The police
began to file out of the house, the reporters following them. Nobody even
bothered looking behind them as the dogs ran toward the woods, the police
following. When the final set of high heels was gone, I pulled up my hood and
walked into the house.
The house was extremely dusty,
almost dusty to the point where I could see footprints. This dead guy either
was horrible at dusting or he hadn’t been home in a while. Knowing that the
cops had already checked out the lower levels, I nimbly moved upstairs, looking
around for any rooms that looked slightly less dusty.
An odd scent permeated the air, but
barely. I looked around. Either someone was still in the house with me or there
was something else at work. An odd presence was also making itself known, one
that was familiar to me. I couldn’t put a name to the presence, but it was one
that was old, yet impactful.
I followed it, leading me past
several closed doors until I reached the only open door in the whole upstairs.
It was a guest room with nothing on its white walls but a few dots of red on the
lower part of the back wall. The room was a total mess, with the shelf turned
over and clothes poured out. Some roaches ran along the wall at top speed. The
bed was unmade and a pillow was along the wall. The scene wasn’t entirely new,
as Tommy and I had both investigated torn up rooms following a murder like
these before.
Only, this time there was something
new to the room. The dots of blood were along the wall, but a strain of blood
ran down from the wall onto the carpet and under the bed. I pushed the bed
away.
There under the bed was the carcass
of a ripped up rabbit, followed by a dog, and finally, an Ouija board laying
between the two of them. It was covered in red. Curiously, I moved it toward me
with my foot. Ouija boards were meant to be used to contact spirits, which was
a load of crap, yet, had this guy actually believed it?
I flipped it over, uncaring if it
broke. On the back, actually was a set of instructions. Scratched in was, “Will
kill the word.”
I chuckled, flipping it back over.
“Guy had an Ouija board,” I said to
my allies.
“Can you sense what word he used
last?” asked Zachary. “They’re supposed to be spiritual, you know.”
“Yeah, I bet,” I said. I put my hand
over the looking glass. “Well, can’t hurt to try, right?”
I waited for a second, watching in
anticipation for it to do something. I was feeling something very slight from
it but nothing major. Almost as if there was a very weak spirit hiding within
it.
Suddenly, the glass jiggled. Slowly,
the glass moved over. “R” to “A” to “B” to “B” again to “I” to finally “T.”
Rabbit. Then, it spelled out dog. Finally, it spelled out “Chester.” I rose
slowly, waiting for the Ouija board to spell out another name, or word. My hand
stayed over it, the presence growing in the Ouija board. Then, the pressure
exploded, sending a strong chill up my spine as the board spelled out “House.”
“Oh, that’s not good,” I muttered. I
ripped my hand away, feeling the pressure slowly seep back into the board. I
rushed downstairs, soaring past the body before I cut my feet and ran back,
covering my hand with my shirt and lifting the blanket over the body, patting
the body down looking for a wallet. I extracted it, noting the man’s name was
indeed Chester.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered again.
I looked around the house, waiting for something to happen. So far, the board
was three for three, having apparently killed the rabbit, dog, and this Chester
guy.
I wondered, though, if it was the
board that did it or if it was Chester himself. Clearly, something took to
bloodying up the two animals, but Chester didn’t have a scratch on him.
“Hey!” a voice shouted. I whirled my
head, seeing a cop running my way. He probably figured I was a mask.
I was on my feet in seconds. The cop
continued to run, aiming his gun at me. He tripped over something, the shock
casuing him to fire. It ricocheted off the ground, creating a spark as the
bullet pierced the gas tank. The spark reached the car, igniting the car and
causing it to explode. The car was close to the house, so the fiery debris
landed in the house and began to ignite the whole complex.
“Alright, so, we may or may not have
some spiritual problems here,” I said, running upstairs. I took hold of the
Ouija board, it’s presence growing as the fire did.
“It’s the board, isn’t it?” asked
Pete.
“Shut up,” I said. I ducked back
inside, where the cop was now as well.
“Freeze!” he shouted, aiming the
gun.
Without much of a choice, I ran down
the hall and leapt through the window, tucking in my legs and rolling into the
backyard. The cop was sprinting after me, forcing me to continue my run. I
hopped over the fence, then transformed into my diamond form and burst forth,
out of sight from the cop.
I planted my feet, creating a huge
rut in the ground to stop, then transformed again, placing my hand over the
earpiece to make sure it was still there.
“I got the Ouija board,” I said.
“Looks normal, got lots of blood on it. Tommy and I will take a look at it
later.”
“So, what, did it predict the guy’s
death or something?” asked Zachary.
“No,” I said. “I think it may have
caused it.”
“It did?” asked Zachary. “It only
reacted after you let some of your energy into it, right?”
I nodded, even though they couldn’t
see me. “Which means to activate it would require some semblance of spiritual
energy, which Chester more than likely didn’t have. And I’m not sensing
anything remotely close to spiritual in the area outside of the board.”
“Well someone’s controlling the damn
thing,” Pete said. “Maybe just not from the town.” “That doesn’t make any sense,” I said, beginning to walk
forward. The rendezvous point with Tommy was in that direction anyway, and plus
now I could talk. “You’re almost making it sound like they would need psychic
abilities, which I don’t think I’ve ever seen.”
“Well what about when you met that
woman, how Jack O’ Lantern teleported you to that one place?” asked Tommy.
I shook my head, again forgetting
they couldn’t see me. “She went to Hell with Jack, it can’t be her. Do you
think the masks have something to do with this?”
“From what we know the masks are a
bunch of crazy kids who can’t tell justice from injustice,” Pete said. “It’s
best we leave them out of this.”
“Doesn’t mean we can leave us out of
them,” I said. “Tommy and I will come up with a plan and fill you guys in.
Something’s definitely going on with the board but the sudden appearance of the
masks with these murders is hinting at something.”
Zachary sighed on the other side.
“You know, Halloween used to just be gimmicky, now all these dudes are taking
it seriously. Kind of kills the vibe, I just want candy.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry, my kicking
of the ass is candy for me. Tommy,
let’s meet up.”
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