A Juicy Situation

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Someone is cutting throats all over the city, but the blood isn't flowing as it should. What could the matter be within this juicy situation?

Submitted: July 16, 2016

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Submitted: July 16, 2016

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“Stanley, my man, what's been happening to you and yours?”

“Say Raymond, it's all good! And you?”

“Couldn't be better Stan, couldn't be better.

So you're in homicide now?”

 

“Yah Ray, I'm on the night shift, all the new-bees get stuck with it. I came up for promotion right after your Christmas party and I past the test in May. A lot happens in a year.”

 

“You got that right. Jasmine and I split right after that party; she hooked-up with the guy in the Santa Suite.”

 

“No way!  You mean Tyrone Brooks?”

 

“The very same, but Leave Her Alone Tyrone and Jasmine didn't last too long after Jasmine received an anonymous letter. It seems that the letter had some photos of Tyrone doing the nasty with Donna (Boom-Boom) Carter in the parking lot of Black-Jack's Bar.

They were in the back seat of Jasmine's new Caddy Sedan; not cool.”

 

A round of laughing and then Ray said, "It's all good anyway; Jasmine and I were finished long before that. We sold the house in February and I was out of there before escrow even closed; I haven't seen Jasmine sense and that is fine by me.”

 

“I don't suppose that you know who sent Jasmine that anonymous letter?”

 

“Well, Stan, even if I did, you know I ain't goanna tell.”

 

“Ray, you are the man! You always did know how to make a break-up final.”

 

(Another round of laughing.)

 

“OK, back to business Ray, I got a call about a homicide at this address. Were you the first responder?”

 

“Yes sir Stan, but I got to tell you up front, this is a real mystery, I mean a real mystery.”

 

“Why's that Ray?”

 

“Well, there were three bodies all in the same motel room that was locked and slide-bolted from the inside, and everyone of the deceased died a different death.”

 

“How so?”

 

“One was shot, a white male in his thirties, that's just a guess, the second had a knife wound and his throat was cut, he is about 20 years old, and the third, it looks like she fell in the tub, hit her head and drowned.”

 

“That shouldn't be a real problem; I have three scenarios in my head right now.”

 

“Do any of those scenarios include the fact that there was no gun or knife found in the room, anywhere?”

 

“What? No way!”

 

“No lie, guy. Forensics is checking the grounds and trash dumpsters in the area encase there were more people involved. But there should be a blood trail of some kind, considering the knife victim's wounds and the amount of blood in the room; which is strange too.” 

 

“What did you mean by, (which is strange too.) Ray?”

 

“Someone getting their throat cut usually causes huge blood splatter everywhere, but not so much in that room. Granted, there is a lot, but not as much as I've seen in other cases. But still, if anyone was in there at the time of the cutting, and they walked out of there on two feet, there should be bloody shoe prints somewhere.”

 

“Woo, Maybe they flew out Ray!”

 

“Oh man, don't you start with the Vampire, Zombie Apocalypse stuff again. There ain't no such thing! Every time you start talking crazy, I get chills, I mean big old goose-bumps down my back. So get real and work the scene Mr. Homicide Detective, I got no time for ghost stories; I have another call to answer.

I'll send my report to you Stan, it should be in your department by morning.”

 

“That's cool Ray, later.”

 

“Are you the Detective in charge here?”

 

“Why yes I am Miss. And you are?”

 

“I am Christina Long; I have a blog called (The Long Blog). I investigate strange homicides and report back to my follower with the latest updates.”

 

“You do know that you are trespassing within the tapped area of an official crime scene, right?” 

 

“I am not trespassing, I am investigating and my sources tell me that there are three dead bodies in that motel room.

The public has a right to know what transpired here, so would you care to give a statement?”

 

“Yes, yes I do. My statement is; there are three dead bodies in room 17 of this rather seedy motel and I just got here myself. So tell me, how the hell would I know any more than you do at this time? As far as the public's right to know, that will find its way to real news stations soon, so stay tuned, News at Eleven!”

With that said Detective Fernell took a last drag off his little skinny cigar and dropped it in her mostly empty coffee cup.

 

Detective Fernell pocked around the crime scene for about a hour, trying to understand what had happened just hours earlier; none of it made any sense.

After that, Fernell finished up with his notes, went back to the station, and made some calls before clocking out for the night.

On the drive back to his flat Fernell saw Christina Long standing near an alley, just off 55th and South Streets.

"What the hell is wrong with that woman, doesn't she know it is two in the morning and she is in one of the worst neighborhoods in this city?" Fernell thought, as he turned his car around and drove into the alley to find the wayward damsel.

It was a blind alley, one way in, one way out, and Christina Long was nowhere to be seen. In fact, except for a commercial dumpster and some scattered newspaper trash, the alley was empty.

Fernell put the car in park and started to get out when he heard Christina's voice from his back seat, she said, "I do not generally do smokers, or cops for that matter, but I will make an exception in your case."

Christina Long's eyes were locked onto Fernell's, via the rear view mirror. Try as he did, he could not move as her cold breath grew nearer and nearer to his sweating neck.

She whispered in his ear, "I'll drink my fill of your blood, red or blue, and then I'll cut your throat --- too.

But we cannot let the Coroners see the fang wounds on your neck so we will just slice across them so that they do not show.”

Fernell’s eyes were tearing and his muscles were bulging from the strain.

“Oh, remember that seedy little motel? Well, I would not want you dyeing without knowing how that happened; that was a hoot. 

I was out flying around and looking for dinner when I spied a fine male specimen in room 17. The door was opened, so I flew right in and brought him under submission with my baby-blues.

Well, you can imagine my surprise when another man entered the room and tried to shoot me. Unfortunately for him, bullets have no affect on me, unless they are silver of course, so the bullet went through me and killed the man I was about to dine on, I mean with; such a waist.

I struggled with the shooter and eventually stabbed him. At that point he was powerless against me, so I had dinner with him instead. Afterward, I cut his throat so that the bite marks would not show.

I tucked the gun and my knife into my cap for safe keeping, and I was about to depart when the screaming started. It seems that there was a woman in the bathtub taking a bath all the while. The bathroom door must have swung open during the knife struggle, and I guess, after the shock of seeing all the carnage wore off, the woman finally found a voice to scream. And scream she did! Boy that woman had a set of lungs on her!

Well, I slammed the door leading outside and bolted it, and then I rushed into the bathroom and slammed her head on the back of the tub so she would shut the hell up. I mean, gees, that woman could scream! That didn't work for long; so I had to shove her head under the water for a while.

Wouldn’t you know it, by then there were people banging on the entry door and I needed to exit, pronto. I did my magic thing and flew right out the little-bitty bathroom window with my little bitty bat wings. It was great!”

By now Fernell had fallen into a state of complete relaxation.

Long continued, “But, now I am stuck here with you. I suppose that you were trying to be a nice guy and were going to save the poor young woman wandering around in a seedy part of town.

Huh! The jokes on you mister detective, you are going to be the next victim of {"The Cut-Throat Killer"}. That name is going to be added to my Blog soon; very juicy stuff, if I do say so myself.

 

D. Thurmond / JEF  ---  07-16-2016

 

This is the first version of this two version story:

See "Daylight Advantage" for second story version.


© Copyright 2017 D. Thurmond, aka, JEF. All rights reserved.

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