Post by alexhayes on Jun 6, 2016 16:22:22 GMT -5
I woke with a start. The sound of gun fire could be heard from a distance of the house. I go to my curtains and open them. I peered into the dark midnight sky and what I witnessed was gruesome. I was in shock and in horror. There was a bullet wound in the victim's head, and blood was draining on the sidewalk and spilled out into the street. The shooter was nowhere to be seen, but there was definitely a lot of commotion about and sirens could be heard in the distance, and like most spectators, I decided to go out into the street to take a look.
I put on an old Martian Manhunter t-shirt and some blue jean shorts, followed by my shoes. Fully dressed now, I made my way down the stairs and into the night. I stood underneath a streetlamp governed by bushes on the edge of someone's lawn. Other innocent bystanders were looking on just as confused as I was. I could never fathom the reasons behind one's motives for murder, except to exact revenge or murder for one's personal gain. It didn't make sense. It was foolish and surely led to a life in prison.
The sirens that polluted my ears were drawing nearer. They finally stopped on my street and Angel and Fifth Avenue. There were two police vehicles in all, and four officers as well as a forensics officers and an ambulance that came on to the scene.
Nobody moved. They all just stood there frozen in place like statues that observed the sceene from the skyline above, looking down on the people. The police on the other hand, tried to evacuate the scene of the crime so that they could do their job as they put in yellow caution tape to secure the perimeter. As they did, the bystanders started to scatter, one by one until there was only a couple of them left which included myself. I was so awestruck by what I had seen. The bullet wound had left a gaping hole through the man's head and blood spilled onto the concrete sidewalk and drained into the vent that led into the sewers.
The forensics specialist moved into the crime scene to investigate. He observed every nook and cranny available to him in the limited space that he was in. He turned his head over his shoulder and looked at what I assumed to be the detective that came with him and smiled. He pointed from down the street. I could hear him explain the trajectory of the shot.
"It looked like he was just a few feet away from him Detective Monroe," he said to a heavier set man that looked like he was in his mid-fifites and had silver hair, "The angle of the gun shot was precise. As you can see, he hit him dead center in the skull. At the moment of impact, the victim went down. Crash! It was lights out with a snap of my own fingers. There was no exit wound that I could tell. We'll have to get this to the coroner and have him do an autopsy before I can do any kind of report."
"Great," came a deep baritone sounding voice, "That's just what I needed to hear. Just what I wanted to do on my night off is spend time with Hayes. He's an asshat. I don't like that motherfucker. I trust him about as far as I can throw him."
It just occurred to me that Monroe didn't know that I was standing there. He was completely oblivious, which made it easier for me to escape back into my home before he noticed me which is exactly what I did. And just as I closed the door behind me, I heard the phone in my pocket go off. I smirked.
"Well," I thought to myself, "I'd better take that call. If Monroe knew I was out there, he'd have my hide. Bad enough that ignoramus hated me."
"Hayes," I said, "Monroe?"
"Yeah, it's me. We need you to get down to the morgue. I understand it's your day off and all, but we just had something come up and we need you there asap."
I sighed, "Fine, I'll be there. But don't think I'm doing you any kind of favors or anything like that, you hear me?"
"I don't want no favors from you. Just get down to the station. It's pertinent. AND DON'T BE LATE! I abhor people that are late, and you are constantly."
"Okay, Detective. I'll be there."
I hung up the phone. Bastard was pissed off at me, that's for sure. I knew he hated me, but that conversation he had with Smith really confirmed it for me. And here I was thinking that this was a good night. Nope. It never ceases to amaze me that when things go right, they go wrong. I wasn't about to tell him though that I was standing there watching the events from my lawn. He didn't need to know. No need to further agitate the situation that we found ourselves in. I had to just remind myself to do my job and that was it. I wasn't there to make any friends.
__________________
I arrived at the police station. Not many officers were in there. It was dead for a graveyard shift and I liked that. I had always wondered what it was like here at night, and now I know. It's desolate and you could literally find yourself in a state of isolation and not be bothered. Phones weren't going off the hook as much as they normally do, and police officers seemed to be shooting the shit more often than not.
No one from upper management was there as all the office doors seemed locked as I passed them by. I made my way down towards the coroner's office, got my key out of my pocket and shoved it into the lock. I turned the lock open and rummaged through my drawers to find the key to the morgue. I found it and grabbed it, then I headed out through to the office door once again, locking the door behind me as my office is kept closed at all times when I wasn't there. Soon I headed to he hallway that led through to the morgue.
The stale smell of dead bodies refigerated filled my nostrils. It was always a welcomed smell to me. I loved every aspect of my career and intended on fully retiring as a coroner when it came time.
Finally I reached my workstation and found that the body was already there. Detective Monroe was already found waiting for me looking at some of my equipment. A faint smile crossed my lips as my face contorted itself into a looke of contempt. I was never any good keeping things that I wanted to say towards my coworkers to myself, but tonight I did. Something told me that he was not in the mood so I kept it to myself and greeted him.
"Good evening, Detective. I see you have work for me in these late hours? What happened?"
The detective glared at me with his arms crossed. He flashed his watch out at me. He thought that he was being subtle about it, but he wasn't. He wanted to make sure that I was late and every single time, it got underneath my skin. I hated it, and he knew it. I've always wanted to tell him how I felt, but I let it go. There was nothing that I could have said to make him change his mind about me. He was already set in his ways and twice my senior.
Detective Monroe was a gruff individual who was always right and everyone else was always wrong. No one could change his mind once it was made up. Once he set out to do something, he did it and usually, he was right.
"See for yourself," he said indicating the body that was laying lifeless on the cold silver stand. I walked over to the body and removed the blanket that had been fully covering him. What I saw had reminded me of the events that transpired from earlier that evening. A slight gasp escaped my lips as I tried not to cough. There was a bullet hole in the center of the brain, but there was no exit wound.
"He was shot in the brain, well more the anterior part of the brain which is called the prefrontal cortex. It looked as if he was shot in point blank range. There's no sings of struggle, just a mere submissive. He wanted to die," I said.
It was a gruesome thought for sure. I wasn't quite sure of the circumstances involved here, but whatever it was, he had to end his life. I started to pray for his soul and went to gather some sage from the shell I had stored in here. I always cleansed the body of any negativity before I began my work on it. The detective thought it was some kind of hocus pocus, but I always ignored him as when he spoke about it.
"Yeah, no shit," he replied, "The whatever you called it..."
"Prefrontal cortex."
"Yes, the prefrontal cortex, but that doesn't explain why blood was seen. Can you tell me that?"
"Well," I said as I removed the blanket a little further, "The throat? It looked like it was cut?"
Monroe's head whirled. He immediately came to my side and observed the situation. He adjusted his hat so it didn't sit as low as it had. He looked at me with a questioning look. It was about that time I knew they missed something.
"How did we miss that?"
"I suppose that the victim wore a turtleneck. I mean, we remove all article of clothing and clean the body up for the most part, except for anything that may harm the crime. Yes, it must have been a turtleneck. It isn't exactly the warmest of night now, is it?"
Now that did make him ponder. Monroe was usually a bit sharper than that, but even he couldn't have missed that. I'm sure he would have had a word with that forensic specialist in the morning. James was always careless and I hated him for that.
"Asphyxiation maybe?" he asked.
"I doubt it. Here, there are signs of struggle. See how the cuts are. I think there were two men there instead of the one. What do you think?"
"I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I believe you. I think one of our perps had the man's throat to a knife and our victim tried to break free, and the moment he did, his throat was cut, which would explain the blood that trickled down into that sewer vent. And that gun shot was his partner being scared and shot him point blank range. Great job Hayes. Get to work, we need that other piece of evidence so that we can solve this case."
"Right," I said as he left me alone to my devices. This was going to be a long, long night already. Luckily I didn't have anyone to answer back home so I could get this work done. There were times I loved my job and hated it, but right now, I loved my job. I don't get very many compliments from the detective, but I'll take them where I can get them.
_________________
PCW, a new place to hone my craft. Although I'm one of the older competitors on the roster, I'm still going to go out there and show them that I still have it, that I still can wrestle. I make my debut match at Trauma one hundred and ninety three. I'm ready to take on Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith in an epic showdown to start the night out.
I'm not going to take him lightly either. I saw how he gave it his all to try to secure the win at Living a Legacy only to fall short of the victory. I was literally at the edge of my seat hoping for him to win, hoping that his losing streak would end. However, it did not end up that way. He lost a close, close match and I for one am glad to have witnessed it. In my opinion, that was the match that stole the show, but now it's all over and the dust has had time to settle.
With the dust having time to settle and the next week's event coming ever so closer, the man hungry for something, anything has to now take me on. It's like he was thrown into a den of wild wolves ready to pounce with one particular wolf as hungry, if not hungrier than him, and that makes me dangerous.
Tyrone, you've got your hands full with me. I'm not some piss ant coming off the street that you think you can beat. I'm crafty and wily. I'm the smartest man in professional wrestling. Hell, I have a degree from Stanford University in business and criminology. That means I can out think you in everything that I do in that ring. When we step in the ring together, you'll learn that. I know you want to get High Tide off your back, but how can you if all you do is keep losing?
Losing week in and week out only makes you seem like the weak link, and that's what they want. You've been labeled the underdog here, but now a true underdog has come to PCW ready to make claim to the top prize in the company and that all starts with you. I'm ready for you, Tyrone. I'm ready for you to make that one mistake and when you do, it's lights out. There's no coming back. Are you prepared to face a man like myself who came from one of the best, if not the best company today in Fight One? We shall see, because, remember, I'm here to make a name for myself and I won't stop at nothing to do it. You've been warned.
I put on an old Martian Manhunter t-shirt and some blue jean shorts, followed by my shoes. Fully dressed now, I made my way down the stairs and into the night. I stood underneath a streetlamp governed by bushes on the edge of someone's lawn. Other innocent bystanders were looking on just as confused as I was. I could never fathom the reasons behind one's motives for murder, except to exact revenge or murder for one's personal gain. It didn't make sense. It was foolish and surely led to a life in prison.
The sirens that polluted my ears were drawing nearer. They finally stopped on my street and Angel and Fifth Avenue. There were two police vehicles in all, and four officers as well as a forensics officers and an ambulance that came on to the scene.
Nobody moved. They all just stood there frozen in place like statues that observed the sceene from the skyline above, looking down on the people. The police on the other hand, tried to evacuate the scene of the crime so that they could do their job as they put in yellow caution tape to secure the perimeter. As they did, the bystanders started to scatter, one by one until there was only a couple of them left which included myself. I was so awestruck by what I had seen. The bullet wound had left a gaping hole through the man's head and blood spilled onto the concrete sidewalk and drained into the vent that led into the sewers.
The forensics specialist moved into the crime scene to investigate. He observed every nook and cranny available to him in the limited space that he was in. He turned his head over his shoulder and looked at what I assumed to be the detective that came with him and smiled. He pointed from down the street. I could hear him explain the trajectory of the shot.
"It looked like he was just a few feet away from him Detective Monroe," he said to a heavier set man that looked like he was in his mid-fifites and had silver hair, "The angle of the gun shot was precise. As you can see, he hit him dead center in the skull. At the moment of impact, the victim went down. Crash! It was lights out with a snap of my own fingers. There was no exit wound that I could tell. We'll have to get this to the coroner and have him do an autopsy before I can do any kind of report."
"Great," came a deep baritone sounding voice, "That's just what I needed to hear. Just what I wanted to do on my night off is spend time with Hayes. He's an asshat. I don't like that motherfucker. I trust him about as far as I can throw him."
It just occurred to me that Monroe didn't know that I was standing there. He was completely oblivious, which made it easier for me to escape back into my home before he noticed me which is exactly what I did. And just as I closed the door behind me, I heard the phone in my pocket go off. I smirked.
"Well," I thought to myself, "I'd better take that call. If Monroe knew I was out there, he'd have my hide. Bad enough that ignoramus hated me."
"Hayes," I said, "Monroe?"
"Yeah, it's me. We need you to get down to the morgue. I understand it's your day off and all, but we just had something come up and we need you there asap."
I sighed, "Fine, I'll be there. But don't think I'm doing you any kind of favors or anything like that, you hear me?"
"I don't want no favors from you. Just get down to the station. It's pertinent. AND DON'T BE LATE! I abhor people that are late, and you are constantly."
"Okay, Detective. I'll be there."
I hung up the phone. Bastard was pissed off at me, that's for sure. I knew he hated me, but that conversation he had with Smith really confirmed it for me. And here I was thinking that this was a good night. Nope. It never ceases to amaze me that when things go right, they go wrong. I wasn't about to tell him though that I was standing there watching the events from my lawn. He didn't need to know. No need to further agitate the situation that we found ourselves in. I had to just remind myself to do my job and that was it. I wasn't there to make any friends.
__________________
I arrived at the police station. Not many officers were in there. It was dead for a graveyard shift and I liked that. I had always wondered what it was like here at night, and now I know. It's desolate and you could literally find yourself in a state of isolation and not be bothered. Phones weren't going off the hook as much as they normally do, and police officers seemed to be shooting the shit more often than not.
No one from upper management was there as all the office doors seemed locked as I passed them by. I made my way down towards the coroner's office, got my key out of my pocket and shoved it into the lock. I turned the lock open and rummaged through my drawers to find the key to the morgue. I found it and grabbed it, then I headed out through to the office door once again, locking the door behind me as my office is kept closed at all times when I wasn't there. Soon I headed to he hallway that led through to the morgue.
The stale smell of dead bodies refigerated filled my nostrils. It was always a welcomed smell to me. I loved every aspect of my career and intended on fully retiring as a coroner when it came time.
Finally I reached my workstation and found that the body was already there. Detective Monroe was already found waiting for me looking at some of my equipment. A faint smile crossed my lips as my face contorted itself into a looke of contempt. I was never any good keeping things that I wanted to say towards my coworkers to myself, but tonight I did. Something told me that he was not in the mood so I kept it to myself and greeted him.
"Good evening, Detective. I see you have work for me in these late hours? What happened?"
The detective glared at me with his arms crossed. He flashed his watch out at me. He thought that he was being subtle about it, but he wasn't. He wanted to make sure that I was late and every single time, it got underneath my skin. I hated it, and he knew it. I've always wanted to tell him how I felt, but I let it go. There was nothing that I could have said to make him change his mind about me. He was already set in his ways and twice my senior.
Detective Monroe was a gruff individual who was always right and everyone else was always wrong. No one could change his mind once it was made up. Once he set out to do something, he did it and usually, he was right.
"See for yourself," he said indicating the body that was laying lifeless on the cold silver stand. I walked over to the body and removed the blanket that had been fully covering him. What I saw had reminded me of the events that transpired from earlier that evening. A slight gasp escaped my lips as I tried not to cough. There was a bullet hole in the center of the brain, but there was no exit wound.
"He was shot in the brain, well more the anterior part of the brain which is called the prefrontal cortex. It looked as if he was shot in point blank range. There's no sings of struggle, just a mere submissive. He wanted to die," I said.
It was a gruesome thought for sure. I wasn't quite sure of the circumstances involved here, but whatever it was, he had to end his life. I started to pray for his soul and went to gather some sage from the shell I had stored in here. I always cleansed the body of any negativity before I began my work on it. The detective thought it was some kind of hocus pocus, but I always ignored him as when he spoke about it.
"Yeah, no shit," he replied, "The whatever you called it..."
"Prefrontal cortex."
"Yes, the prefrontal cortex, but that doesn't explain why blood was seen. Can you tell me that?"
"Well," I said as I removed the blanket a little further, "The throat? It looked like it was cut?"
Monroe's head whirled. He immediately came to my side and observed the situation. He adjusted his hat so it didn't sit as low as it had. He looked at me with a questioning look. It was about that time I knew they missed something.
"How did we miss that?"
"I suppose that the victim wore a turtleneck. I mean, we remove all article of clothing and clean the body up for the most part, except for anything that may harm the crime. Yes, it must have been a turtleneck. It isn't exactly the warmest of night now, is it?"
Now that did make him ponder. Monroe was usually a bit sharper than that, but even he couldn't have missed that. I'm sure he would have had a word with that forensic specialist in the morning. James was always careless and I hated him for that.
"Asphyxiation maybe?" he asked.
"I doubt it. Here, there are signs of struggle. See how the cuts are. I think there were two men there instead of the one. What do you think?"
"I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I believe you. I think one of our perps had the man's throat to a knife and our victim tried to break free, and the moment he did, his throat was cut, which would explain the blood that trickled down into that sewer vent. And that gun shot was his partner being scared and shot him point blank range. Great job Hayes. Get to work, we need that other piece of evidence so that we can solve this case."
"Right," I said as he left me alone to my devices. This was going to be a long, long night already. Luckily I didn't have anyone to answer back home so I could get this work done. There were times I loved my job and hated it, but right now, I loved my job. I don't get very many compliments from the detective, but I'll take them where I can get them.
_________________
PCW, a new place to hone my craft. Although I'm one of the older competitors on the roster, I'm still going to go out there and show them that I still have it, that I still can wrestle. I make my debut match at Trauma one hundred and ninety three. I'm ready to take on Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith in an epic showdown to start the night out.
I'm not going to take him lightly either. I saw how he gave it his all to try to secure the win at Living a Legacy only to fall short of the victory. I was literally at the edge of my seat hoping for him to win, hoping that his losing streak would end. However, it did not end up that way. He lost a close, close match and I for one am glad to have witnessed it. In my opinion, that was the match that stole the show, but now it's all over and the dust has had time to settle.
With the dust having time to settle and the next week's event coming ever so closer, the man hungry for something, anything has to now take me on. It's like he was thrown into a den of wild wolves ready to pounce with one particular wolf as hungry, if not hungrier than him, and that makes me dangerous.
Tyrone, you've got your hands full with me. I'm not some piss ant coming off the street that you think you can beat. I'm crafty and wily. I'm the smartest man in professional wrestling. Hell, I have a degree from Stanford University in business and criminology. That means I can out think you in everything that I do in that ring. When we step in the ring together, you'll learn that. I know you want to get High Tide off your back, but how can you if all you do is keep losing?
Losing week in and week out only makes you seem like the weak link, and that's what they want. You've been labeled the underdog here, but now a true underdog has come to PCW ready to make claim to the top prize in the company and that all starts with you. I'm ready for you, Tyrone. I'm ready for you to make that one mistake and when you do, it's lights out. There's no coming back. Are you prepared to face a man like myself who came from one of the best, if not the best company today in Fight One? We shall see, because, remember, I'm here to make a name for myself and I won't stop at nothing to do it. You've been warned.