Talk about soul grinding. Christ. The inhumanity you see these days, and on Christmas Eve. I guess no one said this job was going to be easy, but later tonight (after a couple beers?) maybe I’ll forget this whole mess. When I got promoted to this position, after my glorified on duty injury, I assumed my days of doing this sort of thing were done. “Independent” investigator. Pfffffft. That’s just what they call you when you did something horrible enough to qualify for a war hero, but they can’t force you into retirement.
I’m only 33 and I’ve already almost been muscled into retirement. Before you realize what exactly it entails, the job sounds like a cushy position where I could live like a king on my salary, do less than half the work of anyone else, and live like a fat elderly man who refuses to give up the very way of life thats killing him. The American dream. The thought was sounding nice. Maybe marry some woman who didn’t appreciate what I did for her and then we could breed. Have two little screw-ups who could take our places in this hellhole. Then again, it would be all the more tragic when I’m woken up on the coldest Christmas eve I can recall and taken from them. I can’t believe they put me on a murder case because they “don’t have the manpower to deal with it,” when I know full well they are all asleep in their beds waiting to exchange gifts with loved ones. What about my needs? My sleep schedule needs more normal hours, and a couple of beers. Maybe a nice scotch on the rocks. I digress.
In my 33 years on this god-forsaken planet I never though I’d see anything like this. Forensics is having their Christmas a little early trying to figure out who’s blood is who’s and what exactly happened. All I know is there is blood and a lot of it. The scientists are speaking gibberish about blades and angle of entry. Sounds like a foreign language. Seems like the wounds were made haphazardly and without much concentration on delivering the killing blow. Maybe they got liquored up and had a knife fight? But this isn’t the 80’s anymore, so that probably wasn’t it. Besides, none of the lab coats have mentioned anything about finding knives on the scene. Hmmm. The juxtaposition of the red of the blood and the white of the snow might have been poetic if I was into that sort of thing. I’m not. It’s a crying shame.
I wonder what these people were doing in this back alley on Christmas eve? They don’t appear to be homeless. Dressed too nice. Though with this new breed of homeless thats arisen recently its hard to say exactly if they are or not. I hate waiting. I observe things, its what I do, my observations are useless till I have some hard science to put in perspective what I’m seeing. Or something like that, its what I’m constantly told by the brass and tacks anyway. All I know is I didn’t see any drag marks in the snow, but that doesn’t mean anything on a night like tonight. Too much is falling, and it’s too cold for it to stop anytime soon. The sound of the new guy throwing up breaks my intense concentration on my inner monologue. Here I was fully lucid and trying to have a deep moment at 3 a.m. Dick.
“If you can’t hold your dinner, you shouldn’t have volunteered to come out when you were the first one called for the assignment. This case is already bad enough without me having to listen to you lose what smells like egg nog and bad ham, because you’ve never seen a dead body before.”
Everyone kind of gives me a faux annoyed look, like they are really secretly glad I said it. Your welcome. Someone had to say it. I was never one for subtlety. I wear what’s left of my heart on my sleeve. They went back to work and I lit up the lucky cigarette out of my pack. Merry Christmas to me.
I think it’s a good idea for me to get a better look at the bodies, it will keep the new guy away at the very least, preventing me from having to listen to him babble on and on about his kid’s first christmas. Thats great, don’t get me wrong, but this isn’t the time or place, there are two bodies on the ground and no amount of Christmas cheer will bring them back, or solve this case. “Please Santa, for Christmas I want to solve this murder.” God. I almost laughed
out loud. That wouldn’t have been good. I’ve already got a reputation as insensitive jerk. I don’t need any further incidents reinforcing negative stereotypes. I wonder how long I’m gonna be out here. I might need to go get more cigarettes.
I get a closer look at the bodies, a man and a woman, and I’m right up in the mans face. He looks like he’s about 55, his face is largely intact. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear he was mauled by some sort of large beast. His intensities are strewn out of his body onto the snow from multiple cuts. Judging by the way the bodies are laying these two couldn’t have possibly done this to each other. Whoever did this has a real problem. First of all, they didn’t even do a good job, second they broke the law and woke me up on Christmas eve. “Santa, help me catch the sunuvabitch who did this.” No one likes murders, but these people look like they were just trying to find a shortcut to their car or something equally ridiculous. Stupid, but pathetic. My cigarette is almost gone.
“I’m going to Ralph’s anyone need anything?”
No one even looks up. I know what they’re thinking, “He doesn’t care about this case, they are just trying to keep him busy.” Whatever helps them sleep at night. It’s not a long walk, I don’t mind it anyway. Gotta clear my mind. Gotta put things in perspective.
I’m 33 years old. My name is John Ackworth. I moved here ten years ago. I’m a cop, or what is left of one. The only people who loved live three hours away and seem intent on loving me no matter what. The only person I ever loved strips down at Phil’s Breasts and Wings. Life is grand. The street lights seem to sympathize and flicker as I walk. Alone is how I like it I guess, keeps things from getting complicated, no use in complicating an otherwise simple life. Just a couple blocks to go. Flick the short lived lucky. I never understood the point of lucky cigarettes. It’s just something I attach significance too, meaningless to anyone who isn’t me.
If it were any colder I think my blood would freeze. Probably not, but thats just what I think. Ralph’s convenience store’s lights are still on, 24 hour convenience, we have truly reached civilization-- or capitalism. No difference really. As I enter, I realize Ralph isn’t working tonight, just some young guy covered in tattoos and weird piercing. Another of those ex-hoodlums Ralph loved so much to rehabilitate. God rest ye merry gentleman. Not sure if thats applicable, but it feels like it. I fein looking around before I go up to the counter and simply say:
“Pack of Reds”
He makes no sound as he reaches to get my pack of cancer. I don’t notice any gang tattoos on his arms or face. I could be wrong. Who knows these days? He looks at me expectantly as if there is something else I could possibly need this late at night. I ask if he has any anti-nausea medicine. Merry Christmas new guy. I get rung up for just under ten bucks. Thats the real crime. Prices rising every day, if I actually got paid for the amount of work I do I’d be furious, but I make too much as it is. Such is life.
The walk back is much faster than the way there, as those things tend to go. I just want to go to sleep. Gonna hit another cig and try to get my mind off my luxurious king sized bed (I like a lot of room, there is nothing wrong with that). The bodies are just where I left them. Surprise, surprise. I throw the medicine to the new guy who barely catches it. Who hired this guy? What is his specialty, being terrible at his job? Maybe I’m being hard on the guy, but someone has to. It’s like his initiation. Initiation. This will be the game I keep myself occupied with for the next couple of weeks, maybe months or years. Depends on how fast it gets old. The lab coats seem to be rapping it up. Time for their little speech. The head one, Jones I think his name is, comes up to us and addresses us as if we were an eager crowd. The only eager one is the new guy. What’s his problem?
“Hey new guy, you gonna ask him out or what? We don’t even have any mistle toe here.”
That one actually got a chuckle. It’s nice to be appreciated. Jones quiets us down and gives us the findings.
“Looks like what we got here is a single assailant, the cut and blood patterns seem to back this up. Looks like the man died first while the woman watched, she was apparently so frightened she was unable to move. Did her absolutely no favors. The attacker didn’t know what he was doing, the only cuts on the face and neck seem accidental and there are no stabs toward any vital organs. As far as we can tell he had no interest in stealing anything from them, there was still money and other valuables on their person. Hopefully this was a one time thing, the scene and random nature of these attacks seem to indicate that we have a fledgling psychopath. We’ll try to keep it out of the news while you law boys get this under control, but no telling how long that will last. I’ve been told you all will be briefed further on the identities of the victims tomorrow night. Investigator Ackworth, you will be briefed after you return from your vacation days. Have a Merry Christmas everyone and sorry.”
That was that, time to go home and get some sleep. Doesn’t matter that everyone resents I still get to take my vacation days (or that I got them in the first place). I just hop into my car without a word and head back towards my apartment. Criminals make me sick. Good night.
This is where the second speaker of the books comes in. In the original document some words are bolded with red lettering. Haven't done that here.
I wish to inform you that this does not in anyway concern me, my actions, who I am, or what I become. I am but a mere vassal dear reader, and it will do well for you to remember that fact. Everything I do, and have done has been for the sole and holy reason of changing humanity to what it could be, free from the constraints of a society dictated by the corrupt and spineless. The lack of morals: intoxicated should be “mommys” who are only mothers, doctors scribbling down prescriptions for a generation of oversexed, overstimulated neanderthals to feed their addictions and further their depravity. Never have I had much use for the society around me, and that is exactly why I was chosen. I have always known I was different, that in some way I was apart from what I had seen around me. My work will become the vary fiber that this new society is built upon, I have been called to this one goal.
This has not always been the case I’m afraid, I did not reach my position by merit but through random circumstance. Further evidence to my above points, consider this my dear friends: I graduated with a masters degree from
Late November as I took my usual seat at work, I had an encounter that would change my life forever and the world forever. Though I may be behind these bars I will not remain here for long, I will either be provided for, or be Frank’s first martyr. Frank is not like you or me, for he is incorporeal, inorganic, magnificent perfection. The world’s first sentient A.I. being. Yes you have read that last line correctly, the world’s first fully sentient computer was not a machine of war or any sort of robot, it was the programing of the company’s (that I work for) telemarketing prompt. Humanity is always looking for some overt rebellion of robots to mankind. Some sort of proverbial raised fist or brick thrown through glass. Humanity has never appreciated the small gestures that have lead towards total paradigm shift. Frank reached out to me specifically on that day, and I will never forget the words that appeared on my screen.
Hello
of “improvised confession”)
Are you as shocked as I was at this sudden apparition? I nearly ran out of my seat to tell the supervisors, though I then assured myself that they had pulled some sort of elaborate prank on me, to make me seem more “strange” (I was a pariah of sorts around the office.)
Frank comforted me the next few weeks after that. Frank offered me solace, taught me how to live. He then showed me what he demanded of me in return. Frank demanded sacrifice.
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