Chapter 4

Interrogation room
Mid-afternoon.

   The handcuffs were digging into my wrists, and the metal chair made my ass hurt.  I wasn't able to reach up high enough to feel the back of my head, but I knew there was a large bump just above my neck.  It was probably from hitting the floor back in the apartment, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was the handi work of one of the arresting officers.  They weren't shy about using their billy-clubs.  "Do you think I could get some asprin?" I asked the guard at the door.  "Shut up asshole" he replied.  "So is that a no?"  I couldn't help but ask it.  About that time Dective Hale came through the door with two suits that I could only guess were FBI.  The two agents stood back by the door, but Hale sat down in front of me.  "All right, heres the deal Russo, we have no evidence that you killed that women, but we also have no evidence that you didn't.  So, according to law, I can't hold you, but just understand this, I have no problem creating evidence if I see fit."  "So, I can go?"  The detective didn't respond to me, but told the guard to unlock me.   Twenty minutes later I was outside the police station.  I had never noticed how close the police station was to the mourge, but I felt really stupid for not realising it.  It was a 3 minute walk to the Jacobs County Mourge.  I figured that if I'd come this far, I might as well find out what this was all about. 

Chapter 5

County Mourge
Early evening

    The rear door was busted down.  A hand written note was taped to the wall telling employees to enter through the public entrance in the front.  Once inside, it was easy to tell where the intruders went before finally reaching the freezer.  Three of the five office doors were off their hinges as I walked down the hallway.  One of the offices was mine.  I reached the cooler after passing through the examine rooms. These doors were still up, but it would be a little extreme for the swinging doors to be knocked down.  Another sign, this one typed, hung beside the freezer doors.  "Slots 35, 38, 42, and 46 are crime scenes.  DO NOT USE."  Under the list of slots was another handwritten number was written under the others.  "89" There was a thin line above that number.  Obviously this was the work of some under-traind officer, as there is no slot 89 in the freezer.  They only go up to 76.  In larger cities, the numbers can reach up to 700, but Jacobs County only has a population of 3,000.  If 76 people die in that short a time span as to use all 76 slots, theres far greater problems than just not having room for bodies. 
    I left the freezer and went to investigate my office.  I feared what the room would look like, but when I entered I was fairly relived.  For the most part the office was intact.  A few drawers lay on the floor, and the admitance book was laying open on my desk.  I had to do some high stepping to avoid the drawers and over turned chairs, but made it to the desk fairly easy.  The pages were open to the night I had last worked.  I was about to close the book, when I noticed that it looked like some names had been erased.  I picked up the book, and righted a chair to sit down.  Most of the names were still there, but four of them were not just erased, holes had been scratched through the thick paper.  35, 38, 42, and 46.  Gone completely from the records, along with date and time of admittance, cause of death, and next of kin.  Why the numbers hadn't been erased also was beyond me.  I looked over the rest of the two pages, but didn't find anything else interesting on those pages.  I wondered what names had been destroyed on the other side of the paper, and flipped the page.  The next page was blank, but the page number had been circled.  68.  Underneath it was letters too small to be read.  I ran out of the room with the book.  I had no idea why I felt it was so urgent, but something inside me was about to burst.  I busted through the swinging double doors into the examine rooms.  On the counter was what I was looking for.  I turned on the microscope, and slid the corner of the page under it.  The message was simple, yet confusing.  "Locker, 4 turns, top shelf." 

I never saw..

By my side,
I'm your freind,
You said with pride,
But somewhere along the way,
Your love for me died.
I thought I would cry,
When we end.
I thought I'd die,
But I just learned to hide.
I never saw you leave,
But your far from here now.
I never understood,
Was it just not right?
Or was it just too good,
Afraid to be hurt,
You run when pain comes round.
It didnt' make sense to me,
You never explained.
I never saw you cry,
But I can hear your sobs.
Its a shame it didn't last,
I wish I could live in the past.
So I'd never have to see you leave.

Running.

Did you ever stop running?
Or did it catch up to you?
Is it all left behind?
Or did you take the hurt with you?
Was it something I said?
Was it something you did?
I may not have heard,
Did you say a word?
Its so hard to think,
Because of all I drink.
The drugs will catch up,
They'll knock me on my ass.
But I'll never stop chasing,
That white lady of my dreams.
Its all for the love,
Its all for the high,
Its all to touch how I'll die.
I know you'll never understand,
But you'll never asked,
You just ran,
Are your feet tired yet?
Is everything you have to say,
Beeing said?
I'll stop for the moment,
If you'll stop running.

Rar, the first post of a new xanga...  I pop its cherry!!!  Ha Ha Ha!!!   I feel evil and twisted right now!!  Yes, evil and twisted!! 

READ IT FUCKERS!!!

Chapter One.

The city.
Night.

     The wail of sirens in the distance only ment one thing.  More dead.  I hate the dead, but I hate the living even more.  Thats probably why I took this job.  Besides, theres not many job openings for a recovering alcoholic M.D.  I botched a surgery with a patient 4 years ago.  Nothing serious, just removed the wrong organ.  The guy lived, but unfortuantly, he was a one of the major contributors to the medical clinc I was employed at.  They were given a choice, either fire me, or lose funding.  One guess as to what they did with that one.  But they atleast gave me the option of working at the county mourge.   I guess they figure I can't do anymore harm to patients that are already dead.  

    The sirens were louder now, and the faint blue and red danced on the walls of the hall.  The lights shown through the two small squares that were an excuse for windows.  It looked like something from a science fiction movie.  The theme from Close Encounters of a Third Kind drifted through my head.  I half expected to see a slant eyed alien when I opened the doors, instead I was face to face with the aftermath of a drunk driver.  

    "Another long night ey?" the driver of the ambulence said as he handed me the paperwork.  Bud his name tag said.  He had about the I.Q. of a Bud light it seemed.  I really didn't like the guy, but he had bought me a beer once, so I put up with him most of the time.  "No longer than the last one." I replied.  I had lied of course.  Last night only four bodies came through.  One a cancer patient from the hospital, another was an elderly person in her 90's.  The other two were teenagers.  A boy, still in his lettermans jacket, and his girlfreind, complete with the glitter makeup and pig tails.  He was registered at .3 blood alcohol.  No surprises there.  But tonight was a different story.  2:30 and already 5 corpses.  One double homocide.  The white man had half a face due to a close encounter with a high caliber hand gun, probalby a .30 or 9mm, the black man had been beaten.  So much so I had to hand print him.  The word FAGS had been cut into their chests.  The matching necklaces and rings left little to the imagination.  Some people didn't approve of their little romance.  And this body made the third drunk driving case tonight.   At least this one had died quickly.  No cuts, no brain trama.  Just a snapped neck.  Rear ended at 50 mph.  Almost made me want to go to the frige in the break room to pour out the liquior I hid in the salad crisper.  Almost.  But not.  

     I finished signing the papers and handed them back to Bud.  "Wanna drink sometime again?"  Bud asked.  I don't think he had many freinds, so I always felt bad about telling him no.  "Maybe if you wind up here again tonight, we can split a beer" I told him.  The chances he'd be back tonight were slim.  On any given night there are about 8 drivers working the route between hospitals and mourges.  I've only gotten to know 2 of them on anything more than a quick nod baisis.  There was Bud, and then there was Kiley.  She was one of those girls that makes you wish you were 6 foot 3 and a millionaire.  Not that it mattered to her.  She has a thing about guys. No matter how great they are, theres something wrong.  If I was 6'3 and a millionaire, she'd probalby tell me I'm too tall, and would be pompus due to my money.  If I was 5'6 and made minimum wage, I'd be too average and would be to tight with the money.  Or I'd be a lousy spender.  But as it was, Kiley seemed to be okay with me.  We'd been dating off and on for about 3 months.  Never anything serious.  Just periodic freindly dates.  Not for lack of trying. 

     I wheeled contestant number 5 into the coat room as we purveyors of the dead had lovingly dubbed it.  It was really just a walk in freezer with lots of roll out shelves for bodies to be stored.  It was called the coat room for the fact if you spent much time in there, you'd need to wear a coat.  Or atleast thats how we explained to interns and those that over heard the term.  The real reason its called the coat room is that even with the temperature controll, a certain amount of break down does occur, and almost everything in the room gets coated with a light dusting of rotting matter, and the sour purfume of death.  I had barely closed the door when I heard more sirens in the distance.  I began to remember a line from an ancient greek play I read in high school.  "Sacred go those that die, but not to ponder and ask why..."  Maybe it was Shakespear.  I just know I kept hearing those words in my mind.   Little did I know I'd be pondering that line alot harder in the time to come. 

Chapter 2

West Falls Apartments
Morning.

     I opened the door to my apartment in a hung over fog.  The banging had woken me up from my deep sleep at the table.  The last fews days I'd slept more at the kitchen table than I have in my bed.  If you consider passing out sleeping.  I had looked out the pep hole, but it was still broken.  I'll have to bitch to the maintence man later.  Out side in the hallway were two large police officers and a short balding man in a suit.  I'd seen enough investigations to know that this man must be a dectective.  The short man lifted a badge confirming my thoughts.  "Dr. Russo, I'm Dective Hale, 12th street precint.  Can I ask you some questions?"  "Please, I'm not a doctor anymore."  I said, a little angry I'd been woken.  "Sure, come in."  I didn't bother to clear off a place for them to sit.  The couch and two of the chairs were covered in clothes, liquior bottles, and fast food trash.  I sat in the only clean chair, a cracked vinal armchair.  Probalby older than I was, it came with the apartment.  Hale must have decided I wasn't one to worry about manners with, so he sat on the only other semi clean piece of funiture, the coffee table in the middle of the room.  "Okay doctor, I mean Mr. Russo, where were you last night?"
"I was at the mourge from 10:30 to 7 this morning." 
"Mmm,hmmm...." Hale mumbled while writing something down on a pad of paper.
"And what time did you leave?" he asked without looking up.
"I just said I was there until  7" I said indignatly. 
"I'm just making sure..." Hale replied. "and what did you do all night?"
"I did my job.  I admitted bodies, I did some minor examinations and a few x-rays."
"Mmm hmmm....anything else?"
This is pointless I thought.  What kind of a man wakes someone up at 9:30 to ask him what he did at work all night? 
"Yeah, come to think of it.  At about 4 am, I took a shit."
"Very goo...what? Took a shi..."  Exactly the reaction I had hoped for.  Maybe now he'll stop with the bullshit.
"Listen Russo, I'm not trying to pin anything on you.  I just need to know this so we can understand what happened."
"And what did happen?"  I asked.  This wouldn't be the first time someone had broke in to steal drugs or items to put up on the black market for drug money. 
"There was a break in.. but nothing expensive was stolen."
"Well what then?  They didnt' steal the tv did they," I asked, the sarcasm ringing loudly in my voice.
"No, they actually took... And this is why its so strange, they stole a body."
"No way!  Invasion of the body snatchers!" I just drunk enough still that I didn't care one way or the other.
"I dont' see how this is funny.  Anyways, the morning shift said that the other 8 were still in their... as he put it "ziploc baggies".  What we want to know is who did this, why they did it, and what they did with the body.  We also don't know if this is theft or kidnapping." 
I missed the last half of that...but my mind was racing so fast I didnt' care.
"Did you say the other 8 were still in their places?"
Hale looke at his notes and shook his head yes.
"Well, then more than one was taken, becasue I admitted at least 10 stiffs last night.  And there should have been three others from the pervious day." 
Hale stood up suddenly.  His color all but gone from his face.  "That'll be all for now Mr. Russo.  Officers, leave him my number and met me back at the mourge."

  Hale left in a hurry.  I heard his tires squeal in the parking lot.  Half tempted to find out what was happening at the mourge, I went to find shoes.  I walked down the hall to my bathroom/laundry room, when I saw something move out of the corner of my eye.  When I turned into the bedroom to investigate, a large person dressed in black jumped out and put a rag over my face.  It was soaked in clorofoam.  The room quickly began to spin, and then the lights just went out.  I hit the floor with my head, but didn't feel it.

Chapter 3

The room
Late afternoon.

   I regained consciousness slowly, like coming up from the bottom of a pool.  I tasted something in my mouth.  Not all that surprising.  The black dressed person in the apartment wasn't gentle about covering my mouth.  But the more I thought about it, the less it tasted like blood.  My eyes were still closed, and I hadn't actually moved yet.  I could tell by the smell of I wasnt' in my apartment anymore.  I decided not to open my eyes right yet, in case I was being watched over closely.  It began to occur to me, that it wasnt' just a taste in my mouth.  There was an entire thing in my mouth.  Made of cloth, and very dry, it made my tounge and throat scream for water.  I tried to sit still and think for as long as I could, by I could feel that I was laying on my back, with my hands bound underneath me.  I was not just gagged, I was handcuffed as well.  I decided to risk it and open my eyes.  I probalby should have expected it, but I discovered that my eyes were already open.  I had been blindfolded.  I'd seen enough movies to know whoever was doing this, was either getting paid, or hoped to be.  I tried talking to ask for water.  The gag fell right out of my mouth.  I waited, expecting somone to shove it right back into my mouth.  No one did.  I then tried to use my shoulder to rub off the blind fold.  As I was wiggiling about, I could hear the metal handcufs clanging together.  I was worried I'd atract attention when the rope holding my hands together came apart.  The hand cuffs consisted of two cuffs, with no chain in between, and some rope loosely coild around my arms. I reached up and took off the blind fold.  What I saw, was hard to belive.  The room was solid white.  Hosptial white in fact.  I recongized the trim on the doorways and the design of the trim.  I was in the ICU at the hospital.  Across the room from me, was the black clothed inturder.  Still had on a mask, but now the would be the wanna be kidnapper was sitting against the wall in a pool of blood.  On the floor between us was scalpel.  I could tell part of the neck was missing, but other than that I couldn't see from my postion.  I crawled across the floor to have a closer look.  The neck was exposed from the top of the shoulders to just below the chin.  Something was strange about the way the eyes looked.  True they were glazed over with death, but something didn't seem right.  Slowly, I lifted the ski mask off the head.  A small gasp escaped as long blonde hair dropped down past the bodies shoulders.   My attacker, was a women.   Suddenly the door to the ICU unit bust open and the room began to buzz with police and swat officers.  "FREEZE RUSSO!!" a familiar voice cried out.  It was Decetive Hale.  "Whats going on here?  And what the fuck happened to that woman up against the wall?!"  Hale screamed finally seeing the other body in the room.