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Unintentional intentions |
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| Written by rachael | |
| Sunday, 23 March 2008 | |
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Share it:      It was a horrible sight to look at. The face had been beaten in beyond recognition. All that remained was a mash of brains, flesh and bone. The arms and legs were hacked off by a rusty old axe that was left next to the torso. Everything was a mess. Blood was everywhere. Skin had been pulled from flesh and thrown across the room. Organs had been ripped out and discarded nearby. What monster could have done this to its own kind? I almost threw up from the sight, no not the sight, the smell. The body had been left to rot for over a week. This smell is the kind that you never want to encounter; it sticks to your nostrils for weeks. Blowies buzzed about and continuously landed on me. Just great. I couldn’t handle them landing on me knowing that they touched that thing. This is one of the downsides of being a detective. “What do we have here sir?” A mans voice asks. “You have a look and tell me.” I simply reply. Twenty-six years in the force and I still get that question thrown at me. I swear if I had a dollar for every time I heard it ill be a millionaire. I side look my assistant. He was more brawn than brains. Why do I get stuck with the idiots? Well getting back to the…body. “Well what we have here Jacob…is a crime scene.” I smile to myself. “For real. We have a possible homicide…and whoever did this was some ****** up piece of work.” “Any evidence sir?” Jacob asks yet another stupid question. “Well I haven’t a chance to look…” I was getting annoyed. One more dumb question will be deadly. “I just got here.” “Who do you think did this?” I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me. I can relate to why someone could do this to another. There are idiots in this world that need to be shot. But I kept my calm. No use in getting upset. “I don’t know Jacob…I just got here.” I managed to say through my gritted teeth. I swear someone is against me. Why id God’s name would he want to be in this line of work? Right now he’s mind is probably fixed on some hot babe in a bikini. It’s not like this job attracts the chicks. Its not flattering to a woman to say ‘well what I do for a living is analyzing victims that have been brutally murdered by another human being. Anyway he could easily be a model. I finish up on the survey of the crime scene. I may not know who did this but I do know why. “Due to the malice of this murder it’s safe to say that that victim was hated by the killer.” I presumed. “The face being beaten in like this is so that we wouldn’t be able to recognize who it is. And the other **** done to him…well that’s just pure anger for you.” Jacob scribbled down in his pad, taking care not to miss a line. As I get up to leave I begin to feel dizzy. Everything suddenly went blurry quickly followed by darkness. It must have been from breathing in the foul smell for too long. As I fall to the ground I could here Jacob screaming for help. Next thing I know I wake up in a jail cell. Confused I call for a guard but no one comes. I keep calling for at least ten minutes when somebody finally comes. “What the hell am I dong in here?” I ask frantically. “Right you don’t remember because you didn’t do it.” The guard snickers. I ask again but more aggressively. “What the hell am I doing in here?!” “You are here for the murder of Jacob Wilkins.” The guard replies a little more serious. “As I hear you did some sick **** to him.” I fell onto the cell bed confused. What was he talking about? Was I investigating my own murder? Nah, anytime I will wake up in my nice warm bed. The guard leaves me alone with a disgusted look on his face. Then I think…maybe I did…but I couldn’t have. This is all a dream. Unless if I am doomed for life to relive my horrific murder in my now cursed dreams, every time denying that I did it…I killed the dumb bastard that was Jacob Wilkins. Copyright 2008 rachael |
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