I woke to find I'd fallen asleep in my office again. A dank musty smelling room with a window, a desk, a filing cabinet and not a lot else. The now cold coffee had a dead fly in it, floating in lazy circles around it's murky watery grave. You and me fly, I thought, we're in the same situation.
I chucked the coffee out of the window, ignoring the cry of anger from the person it must have landed on. The tiny budget kitchen was three doors down the hall. Not worth the effort.
I stepped outside to get my mail. There was something in it. Wasn't often that I got mail. Not any more. I pulled out the large brown envelope and went back inside, grabbed another coffee on the way back.
Back in my office, the envelope spilled it's contents easily enough. Inside was a note, some files and a picture of a nice looking girl, giving me a toothy grin. On quick inspection of the files, it became obvious that nobody was going to be seeing that grin again.
I pulled on my hat and coat, the sky threatening me with rain as I walked outside. As I started walking off towards the Hotel Geneva, I knew two things for certain. There was a murderer on the loose... and that it was going to be one of those days.
The cold coffee refused to take away the taste of the plastic wrapped ham on rye sandwich, and the penultimate mouthful caused Gnash to nearly choke as the sharp braking of the police cruiser hurled the liquid down his throat . Cursing the stale beverage unto the Nth generation , he left its cup on the cruisers rear seat , as he climbed from its interior . Clearly the patrolman driver wanted the PsiDiv man out of his car , as he floored the gas the instant Gnash was clear of the door.
Officer Gnash adjusted he cap , pulled his long coat around himself and walked slowly towards the Hotel Geneva's main entrance .The latest directive on making the public accept PisDiv officers as normal was the main reason for the arrival by police car , just like a every day PPD officer, but it had also allowed Gnash time to eat lunch and read the slim file on the the crime ..his stomach had dislike both , possible the ham on rye a slightly more .....
Gnash halted some 10 yards short of the hotel's doors and very slowly scanned , the full 360 degrees , taking in the surroundings and its inhabitants .........
It was raining now. The type of rain that has a deep chill in it's veins, enough to make you shiver through any type of coat and mine was no exception. Hell, mine was probably worse than most, it wasn't exactly water-proof.
Peering through the waterfall created by the brim of my hat, I found I'd reached the hotel. I'd have probably liked it, if I didn't know there was a dead girl inside. I guess nowhere's perfect.
I walked into the lobby, soaked to the skin and colder than a winters day in Alaska. At least the central heating was on in here. Then again maybe not, I prefer my corpses icy. They tend smell better. Not that I'd showered today, so maybe we'd get right along.
I reached into my coat and pulled out my dusty old badge. A little out of date, but that probably wouldn't matter for this. Clutching it at the ready, I approached the registration desk.
Gnash strode up to the Hotel Genevas main doors ,
part of a large chain across the city and state he reminded himself
with identical furnishings no doubt
.so the clean up will not cost them much
Gnash paused in the outside the door to allow the rain to slide off his PsiDiv coat
bullet , knife and rainproof ..got to love modern fabrics
and of course its real use, to let the public know who had just entered their midsts. Setting his face to passive mode he crossed the threshold into the lobby of bright lights , warm stale air and service smiles .
As per his normal modus operandi , he entered and took three paces to the right , stood and let the room see him ..it was peoples third reaction to the uniform Gnash always noted
unless one of the first two was to run or pull a weapon ..
Let the shock and awe of seeing a Psi cop pass, and the self check to purge any little guilty thoughts ..then he could see the real reactions ..
The desk girl had her smile frozen to her face and was staring , a old couple , guests ? , looked at him grimly the rest seem to avoid looking at him , while tracking his movements
..
The Hotel door open once more and a rain sodden figure shuffled in , hat and coat leaving a aqueous trail across the blue carpet ..the figure seemed to have missed Gnash to the right as it closed in on the main desk to the left . . . Gnash noted the fluid movement of hand to pocket and tensed ..then clamed ..at the glint of a badge
had the station sent help ..or was Gnash the performing minor on this gig
.
A young man dressed in black emerged from behind a wall and entered into the lobby area. His bright white tie stood out like a flourecent bulb, swinging loosely side to side at each majestic step. His shiny police badge hung casually from his waist, accompanying his handcuffs and firearm. He reached the registration desk and intercepted the detective. "PI Greene, I'm Lieutenant Hicks" he said, with an intrusive handshake poised for collection.
I was nearly at the registration desk, wondering why the girl at the desk was staring at me when I was jumped on by an official looking young man in black. Badge shinier than a dime in coke and tie like he'd been laying in the road when they painted the lines on, he thrust his hand at me like he wanted to get rid of it.
Hicks was the name, but he didn't look like a Hicks. Maybe a Simmons. Or a Johnson. Either way he knew my name, so I shook his hand. He looked like the type that 'has potential'. Not that that means much in the force. Potential to shuffle paper maybe. If you were good, you either had super powers or they weren't willing to risk you getting your head kicked in by an over zealous Hellion. Or maybe that's just me.
I didn't reply, the lieutenant was obviously in a hurry. Everybody is these days. I waited for him to say what he was about to tell me.
Gnashs mind shifted gear instantly ..Hicks .. Hicks ..do I know him
no but I have seen him ..works out of Central ..must be more important than I was told if one of the ninth floor denizens has been tasked to be seen here ... , so who is the sponge dripping on the hotels good carpet
Please , by all the thousand names of Shri Adishakti , let this not be a political one ..no big wigs nosing ..no
..oh well best foot forward .
Setting voice to bland but focused Gnash crossed to the desk ..stopping two paces clear of the Lt. and the Sponge
Lieutenant Hicks ? , Officer Gnash reporting as directed ..
Gnash slide his eyes over both figures , drinking in their reactions
..
"Thank you for coming gentlemen, please, follow me this way" said the fast-talking young lieutenant, leading the two men around the desk where an elevator welcomed them with a low ding. "We've sent copies of the case files to roughly six prominent detectives and officers, we need as much help on this case you see, we think the killer is a mutant and his or her powers are unheard off, way beyond the supernatural. Hope you're not claustrophobic." said the lieutenant, stepping into the open elevator and pressing for the sixth floor.
There is the crackle and a whiff of ozone and as the elevator doors roll shut Emily One jabs her hand between the doors, getting in with them dressed in her brown trench coat and matching large duster hat.
"Forgive my lateness, I had to return for appropriate weather clothes or the files would have gotten wet. I will be one of those six."
She doesn't even appear to be all that wet as she squeezes in with them into the lift, moving to the side.
"Carry on Lieutenant," she says silently regretting not being on time. It was unprofessional, but unavoidable as she'd needed to brief Beth on the days routine in her absence and it had taken longer than expected.
The hotel elevator settled at the sixth floor noislessly, the doors slid apart like red curtains on a stage, revealing what could have been a blood drenched set for an art house horror movie. The hallway was pitch black, no lights. You could just about make out the dark wooden walls behind the neon red stains of blood, trailing all the way to room number four. A bright yellow tape sealed off the path, a police line any sane person wouldn't cross. Two uniformed officers were guarding the door. "Flash your badge Emily" said the lieutenant, pulling out his own to lead by example. The guards stepped aside and ushered him in. Room 4. A crime scene like no other.
Once inside, you notice a few things. It was a simple room with a double bed, side table and a telephone. Like everything else, the sheets were soaked with blood, three of four legs had collapsed under the bed and a large hole gaped through the blood drenched matress. There was a small window with a view into an alley way, the cheap brown curtains were open and what looked like a bloody handprint sat around the top edges, six or seven feet up. Forensics wandered around the crime scene, tracing and photographing pieces of evidence. What was left of the victim's body laid headless in the middle of the bed, horribly mutilated and missing several limbs. From what could be seen, this was a young woman in her mid twenties. A chambermaid sat in a corner of the room talking to the police and a couple of psychic officers. Finding out what she knows might be a good start.
Gnash entered the room and stood to one side , as was his way he ignored the body and the witness and defocused . Very slowly he let his vision return , allowing the picture of the room to grow from the fine detail , the weave of the carpet , the grain of the wall paper , the small fragments of dirty and debris across the vista ..and only when the picture was complete did the start to look .
What did not fit ..where was her luggage ?..had it been searched ?..was there any items missing ?
was there a pressure pattern in the carpet under the bed from a lurker ? . ..was the telephone intact and in place ? .. how was she dressed ? ..were all the normal items in the room , beauty products , hair brush , hand bag , mobile phone , room key , shoes ?
The body lacked a head and , which limbs ?, how big a parcel would that make ?, was all the blood here ?, or would the taken parts be dripping ?..
Gnash moved to the window to peer at the bloody handprints , human ? or what ? He looked out to the alley way , any strays having a lat dinner ? again he looked for the out of place
..
Returning to the room Gnash , regretting the ham on rye even more ,studied the body ..pushing the forensic team for info ..how was the head and limbs detached ? ..what type of wounds where inflicted on the body ?
are there signs of a struggle ? ..or was it all one sided ?...any signs of forced entry ?..
Warning, the following text contains imagery of a disturbing nature.
As you look around the room, you see that there is no luggage, but noticed something that looked like a red leather handbag protuding from under the bed. Next to it was the telephone socket, the wiring still intact, but the telephone reciever was off it's hook. The room's door had a key hanging from the hole but the locks had been smashed open, splinters from the wooden frame laid scattered on the brown carpet. As well as the curtains, the window frames had bloody handprints around it's handles. The forensics team were cooperative, they told you the prints were human but no further information as of yet. As you inspected the body, you notice it was largely unclothed, except where the bedsheets wrapped around it. Forensics informed you of further findings; the missing limbs had been ripped off the body, the neck had been broken off into the hole in the matress, her right arm had been torn off, her toes and fingers snapped from their joints. All dismembered limbs were missing without trace. Deep set bruises around the torso showed signs of struggle and extreme injuries sustained in the pelvic area suggested the victim had been sexually abused, repeatedly. It was also confirmed that the victim had been dead for several days. No clothing has yet been found in the room.
A young dark-skinned lady entered the room, searching for the detectives. She wore blue jeans, a baseball cap and a puffy black jacket with forensics labelled on the back. She approached the team of police with a small file. "Er, sorry I don't know who to give this to but we got results from blood spatter and analysis, turns out the fresh blood in the hallway and the dry blood in this room, they don't match. We also got a positive ID on the former, one Abigail Christenson." She shoved the file in her hand foward. "Someone take this off me please?"
Standing outside the door to the room, Officer Jennifer Sula nodded to the representative from forensics, and went back to concentrating on not being sick. She'd seen some damned distasteful things in her time as a cop and a hero, but the sheer brutality here...
She wondered whether to consider it providence that she'd been posted here on security detail. They must have been short-staffed to call her in, but at least now she could pick up some details. Maybe Jack would be able to help her piece them together into something she could work with.
Knights Exemplar: Wolfram, Autumnfox, Starlit Spirit.
Militia: The Portent, Wavekite, Mr. Sandman.
The Cadre: WarpLocke, Zajin.
Numerous others.
Gnash pulled out a dark leather bound note book , stunningly not a PPD issue , as , clearly ,also not , was the gold propelling pencil he drew ...on to a clean note book page Gnash started to list items , seeking patterns..
Dead for a number of days ...so where killed how delivered to he ? Why the delay in finding ?
Who had the room booked ..have door key checked for trace ?
Snapped fingers and toes ...questioning by torture ?, possible link to sexual abuse ??
Hand prints ...hers? OR any indication from them of maker ?
Can we get a profile on this Abigail Christenson..home , job , bank , friends , enemies ?
Now lets have a closer look at that red leather handbag .........
Gnash continued to keep his focus on the room and its objects ..almost ignoring the others ...he had to keep out the rampant emotions screaming around the room ...the maid was really in shock ..maybe some one should get her out of here ..still any information was gold at this stage ....
By Odin's other eye let it just be a powered crazy getting his rocks off ...but ..but something was nagging at Gnash's policeman genes .....
(( Ignore this ))
Lieutenant Hicks snatched the small folder off the forensics lady and had a quick look through. "Well according to these police files, Abigail Christenson was a part time ****** on fifth and third. She has a long list of charges ranging from prostitution to grand theft auto" read the lieutenant, talking to agent Emily and the two detectives. "Question is, what the hell was she doing in the hallway and where is she now?"
((facts from Pious ))
Gnash very deliberately emptied the red leather bag A cellphone with a dead battery, a purse with four or five twenty dollar notes and no coins. A number of call cards and a packet of condoms.
Gnash dug deeper and finds a drivers license with a pretty face and a name. Maria Josephine Gardner, born twenty-two years ago in Kings Row.
Squatting down to check for anything split from the bag Gnash swept his gaze beneath the bed ..
Under the bed,. A broken tube of pepperspray and a decapitated head.
Looking past the death mask, Gnash recognises the face matches with the photo on the license. This victim was Maria J Gardner, so we have dead ******.
Now who paid for this room ?
Lieutant Hicks was impressed with Gnash and he made it clear. "Good work Gnash" he said, turning to a nearby officer. "Jackson, find out what you can on a Maria Josephine Gardner, start with missing persons, I want her family, friends, anyone we can contact. And see if she's ever had anything to do with this Abigail Christenson, hookers killing hookers ain't nothing new. Hey Smithers get over here!" When Officer Smithers reached him, the lieutenant lowered his voice from a commanding tone right down to a whisper. "These wacko psychics done mind reading or what? Poor maid looks so damn horrified, before you know it she'll be on the floor twitching in vomit. Well don't just stand there looking at me. Make yourself useful, get in the hallway and relieve Sula. I need her in here, pronto." The policeman obeys without hesitation and leaves the room. "Detective Gnash" the lieutenant called, "I'm guessing you want something. Hotel guest book, right?"
Smithers passed on his message and took up position in the corridor as Jennifer moved into the room. She tried not to look directly at the body. It seemed wrong to her that it - she - was still lying there, but the rules about crime scenes were pretty strict. She approached Hicks. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
Knights Exemplar: Wolfram, Autumnfox, Starlit Spirit.
Militia: The Portent, Wavekite, Mr. Sandman.
The Cadre: WarpLocke, Zajin.
Numerous others.
"Sula" said the lieutenant, eyes locked on tot he female officer's chest area. "The hotel manager downstairs is being a pain. I need you to get his guest book for Detective Gnash here. You'll need to use your god given talents, and by the looks of you this morning, you'll do a fine good job of it. Go on, get to it."
Gnash , his public face remaining bland as oatmeal ,inwardly grimaced at Hicks' misogynistic actions . Gnash having a inbuilt intolerance of the type of person Hicks appeared to be , felt his fist start to itch ....Why ,by Bast fluffy tail , is Hicks here ..this may be messy but its no major story ...is he on clean up for someone ?? ...time to test the waters perhaps ...
Say LT .. Gnash started , sure the abbreviation would niggle Hicks .. can we get the wrap sheets of these two ladies from Records , get then wifi'ed over ?
Jennifer tried not to show her anger and discomfort at Hicks' appraisal, concentrating on the task at hand. "Yes, sir," she replied, turning away as Detective Nash addressed the lieutenant. She moved briskly to the lift and headed downstairs in search of the manager.
Knights Exemplar: Wolfram, Autumnfox, Starlit Spirit.
Militia: The Portent, Wavekite, Mr. Sandman.
The Cadre: WarpLocke, Zajin.
Numerous others.
"El-tee?" questioned the lieutenant. "I don't know what you mean there Gnash, but er, you'll get the records on Maria here soon enough. I've just put Jackson on it. As for this Abigail ******, heres all we got on her" said the lieutenant, thrusting the small folder into Gnash.
Downstairs at street level, passer-bys were gasping in awe and pointing upwards into the skies. There was a gentle gust of wind as a young man in a holy cassock descended onto the pavements. With a modest nod, he greeted his fellow Americans and stepped into the hotel lobby. "Jennifer!" he called, spotting the young officer from across the room. "Good to see you here, are you on the murder case too?"
((Open Roleplay: Paragon Police Department's psychic division have been called in to work alongside Forensics on a murder case. If your character works with the police, they may have called you in too, so feel free to join in and help with the investigation. Same golden rule, no god-modding, enjoy.))
You receive a copy of the case files and at your initial glance were able to read about the incident, a murder at the Atlas Park Hotel Geneva, the primary objective to find and stop the attacker, the clues from hotel staff who found the body and lastly, a suggested method of action telling you to follow up on clues by intuition, forensics and psychic detection. Maybe you aught to visit the crime scene.