The Curious Tale of Doctor Phinias Gordon: Part One

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
The search for a killer puts a detective in more deep than he wanted!

Submitted: January 28, 2010

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Submitted: January 28, 2010

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The Curious Tale of Doctor Phinias Gordon
 


Monday: 12:43 AM

Never in my life had I seen so much blood. The walls, the floor, even the ceiling were splashed with red as if the corpse had exploded. I couldn’t even step in the room for more than a few seconds at a time. The putrid smell of rotting flesh and organs filled my lungs and caused my stomach to heave the sandwich I had for lunch into my throat.

My name is Detective Stephen Wright and I have been on the tale of this madman for over three months. His motives are unknown and his victims seem to be random. The only clues we have to his identity are two letters etched in blood and bile across the mangled corpse’s forehead.

"This is how it looked when we got here, Detective," said the young rookie trying to choke back the vomit that rose to the back of his neck. "This one’s a little different."

"How so?" I asked also fighting back the stomach acids.

"Well," he continued. "Besides having all of his internal organs removed, he was left with the initials ‘P.G.’ on his forehead." I studied the body closely. The poor bastard was laid out on a long wooden table and tied down with barbed wire. The room itself appeared to be an old work station or office in the basement of this old abandoned house.

The body was dissected with the skills of a surgeon. Whoever this maniac was, he knew what he was doing. He was cut open from his neck to his testicles and his ribs had been split open. His chest was a vacant cavity straight down to his spine. His face was covered in his own effluents and he had a look of utter pain. Obviously, he was alive and awake when this grizzly massacre took place.

"Surgeons," I said in a whisper.

"Sir?"

"Whoever did this was skilled. This was an autopsy, officer. Look at how precise the cuttings are."

"But, what about the letters on his forehead?"

"He’s playing with us, Rookie. He’s leaving a bread trail that’ll lead us right to him. He knows the only way to find him is by following the bloody mess of innocents to him."
The rookie finally had his fill of the macabre and released his stomach all over the floor. I grabbed him and quickly rushed him out of the room before he could taint the entire crime scene. I was met by my superior as I exited the blood soaked room into the bowls of the basement.

"Commissioner Wells," I said with slight surprise. Wells wasn’t the nicest man. His heavy-set frame and thick mustache took away from his glaring brown eyes.

"Detective," he said slightly nodding. "What’s the matter with him?"

"First time dealing with this guy," I said struggling to keep the young cop from falling over. "It’s a god damned mess in there, Sir." I sat the rookie down in a nearby chair and handed him my handkerchief to cover his mouth.

"What have we got, Detective?"

"One male, D.O.A., his internal organs have been removed, Sir."

"Wonderful," he said in a gruff voice. "This is number five, Detective. I thought you and your men were going to take this son of a bitch down!" He clenched his fist his face turned red making his white mustache seem lighter.

"Sir, we just found our first lead tonight. We have his initials."

"Are you sure this sick bastard isn’t just leading you on a wild goose chase, Wright?"
"I think he wants us to find him. I think he’s playing a sick game of hide and seek."

"You better be right, Detective, because you have two days to get me something concrete on this guy or you’re off the case."

"Two days?"

"Two days, Detective, no more!" He stormed past me and called for the coroner over his radio. I looked over at the vomit covered rookie who was still trying to regain his composure.

"You okay, kid?" I asked as he slowly stood up. He nodded and forced back another gag. I walked past the "boys in blue" as they prepared to photograph the crime scene and remove the corpse. As I headed towards my old, rusted car, I could hear the faint sounds of groans and gagging behind me.

Monday: 1:56 AM

I sat at my desk slowly falling asleep on the piles of paperwork and ballpoint pens. I stared, disgusted, at the crime scene photos looking for any overlooked clues or hints. This guy was good, period. He left nothing behind. No footprints, no fingerprints, only his initials written in blood.

I felt as if I was going to explode any minute. The stress of wondering what poor man, woman or child could be next was now laid on top of having to get some hard evidence in two days. The pictures showed nothing but a sick and twisted operation that had left five wives wondering why their husbands were killed for no known reason.

After a while, frustration got the best of me. The papers and pictures flew across my office like a whirlwind of confetti. I stood up covering my face concentrating on the events of the morning. The haunting image of the pain stricken looks frozen on the victims faces flew through my mind like a demented slideshow. A knock on my office door awoke me from the nightmarish thoughts.

"Come in," I said in an exhausted voice. My breath was taken away by the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Her long blonde hair flowed like a river of gold over her shoulders. Her eyes were emerald green and her lips her ruby red. She had a body to die for and she wasn’t afraid to show it in a white dress that showed every curve.

"Detective Wright?" Her voice flowed like the ocean waters.

"Y...Yes, I’m Detective Wright."

"I’m Pamela Gordon; I may be able to help you with your case."

I paused looking at her for a moment. She looked honest enough, but I’ve seen a lot of movies and I know the beautiful dame always means trouble.

"What do you know about it?" I asked her trying to look her in the eyes.

"I know you have five homicides and no leads except two letters etched in blood."

"How can you help?"

"I think the killer may be my brother."


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