Nightmare: Draft (unfinished)

Draft

The land looked dark with malice radiating off like surrounding energy. It looked like a rain forest, but luxuriant beyond anyone’s dream. His feet sank into something murky, with something snake like zigzagging under the slough. It reached up to his knees making his skin crawl, and his nose burn from the acidic smell. He marched through the wetlands, if felt more like quicksand, thick and deep, ready to kill him in a moments notice.

Something lingered in this atrocious place, feral and enraged. He felt it in his chest, the burning ache, the anger, the primitive side of him that wanted power. He was too strong willed even for himself, and it was killing him slowly, ever waiting, and ever preying for the day when he fell short of control or life.

The jungle eerily silent, there wasn’t a sound of life, a barren wasteland, his eternal damnation. He pulled his leg out of the tainted water as he reached the edge of the lagoon. His body felt heavier in this world, its rage making his senses go berserk, but something was leading him in this dark land; Its voice like a whisper in his head, full of sadness but burning with passion.

Do you enjoy this barren forest? It asked amused underlined with anger.

He felt his stomach churn agonizingly making him double over, his breathing becoming labored as he fought for control on the dry dense pasture. He closed his eyes to get his breathing under control, but the pain assailed his senses, almost making him gag.

Don’t try to control me in this world, my desolate imprisonment. It whispered sadness imbedded in the wind. Why do you hate me so? We are brothers, soul of the same body. But yet you treat me like this, the land dark and ominous, the water tainted with pain and anger. Why do you hate me so?

He couldn’t answer as the pain increased not giving him a chance to recover from the last impact.

“You caused me nothing but pain…” He grounded through his teeth. There was a low growl in his head.

Me! It ranted; you hated what you are because of me? The growl grew louder until that was the only thing he heard. I protected you when times were rough, I save you more than once, I was there to comfort you but you locked me in this place. You rather but human then accept what we are, you are. You sleep with woman who is not your mate; you are not the only one who suffers.

The pain eased enough to allow him to walk as he stood up cautiously, following the strange pull.

I’ve been abiding my time for too long, it snarled sounding like thunder in the forest. You abused your power and now I suffer for it. How dare you? How dare you deceive me? Absurd! It roared chilling him to the core as his body went still, his breath escaping his lungs faster than he could inhale.

I will not take this any longer; I will not remain passive any more. You want to me human, fine, you will get your wish and I’ll make sure you regret it. It snarled viciously with malice dripping like blood from its words. Never again shall you use me, when you’re endangered, you will have to rely on yourself and when your close to death, I will take over I promise you…

The words pierced him like long sharp daggers that cut into his flesh, like heavy pouring rain all over his body. This may be a dream, but it was making him weary, sick to his stomach like he was going to die.

“What do you want?” He ranted into the soundless forest, looking for the creature that was torturing him.

All I want is for you to acknowledge me, but that’s not going to happen. I have nothing more to say, for you will not change your mind. We can not live without each other, but since you want your freedom and I want mine, I know what to do… it whispered mournfully but with bitter contentment.

The snarl from the beast rippled like thunder, deafening his ears and causing his heart to stutter.

Untitled

Rachel petted the poodle as it reached for her hand. The poodle nudged her hand eagerly, trotting around her, the owner pulling the leash slightly, the dog sitting down near her owner.

“Sorry about Grace.” The woman apologized.

Rachel smiled petting the dog, the tail whipping sharply to the side enjoying the attention. “It’s alright, I love animals anyway.” Rachel pulled out her notepad, opening it to a clear page with a mini pen. “So what happened exactly?”

The woman took a deep breath, petting her poodle before she started. “I saw this man, he looks kind of big, had stubble and looked kind of crazy. He is usually a quiet man; he is my neighbor after all… ”She chuckled nervously, “I heard him arguing with his wife this morning, and Grace started barking agitatedly. She hardly barks inside the apartment. I heard something hit against my living room wall rather hard, scared the day lights out of me.

Then this God awful sound, I do not know how to describe it, but Grace ran into the bedroom whimpering. After that I called your guys, while doing so I heard a crash and another thud but it ran off, so I figured that was Edmund running away for whatever reason.” The woman sighed rubbing her leather skinned hands together. She looked at Rachel, her eyes watering and dark with fear. “I went into the apartment and since the door was off the hinges. I called his wife; Martha was her name and looked for her. I slid forward to notice something dark underneath my shoes.

I followed the trail to find Martha in the bathroom,” The woman sobbed, wiping her eyes uncontrollably. “She was torn into pieces, her stomach was ripped open, her guts bear to whatever was hungry enough to do that. I mean Edmund is not an evil man; he smiled and waved when he leaved or entered. He was a nice man, dear…”

Rachel rubbed the woman’s shoulder ruthfully, “Was there any indication that Mr. Edmund was abusive, anything out of the ordinary?” Rachel asked softly.

The woman removed the tears from her eyes, “Well a few months back, Grace started barking on and off, anytime I had Grace with me and Edmund passed she would bark and snarl, almost bit his hand off. I was really surprised with her; she’s a friendly dog as you can see.” Rachel nodded in agreement talking notes. “Can you make sure this doesn’t get into the presses? This place doesn’t need any more attention.”

Rachel smiled solemnly, “I’ll do the best I can, please go home and rest until we have any more questions to ask you, Ms. Lavender.” The woman nodded with a wrinkled smile on her face as she called her dog along to follow. Rachel tucked the notepad away as she entered the scene. She moved around the CSI group as they took pictures of a broken piece of the door that laid on the ground.

“What have you guys found so far?” Rachel asked inspecting the door, as she placed on gloves to protect any evidence. One of the photographers straightened up, extracting a small bag from his pocket handing it to her. Rachel took a look handing it back to a close by investigator as she placed it a safe crate.

“We managed to find the suspects skin on the door, well what remained left of it. It was found on the outer part of the door where it looked like he busted through.” He stated shifting on one leg, side to side like a restless kid in a shop full of candy.

“That’s not possible is it?” Rachel asked. There was a chance of that happening, but he would’ve hurted himself charging into the door, especially this thick.

The guy sighed, “I don’t know about possibilities, but he managed to ram himself into the door. We haven’t found a trace of blood beyond the door.” He answered a bit perplexed.

“Thanks, where’s Jonathan?” Rachel asked calmly. The guy pointed into the house as he reapplied himself to his work. Walking near the door, she noticed deep grooves into the wooden frame near the middle hinge. Extracting her kit, she managed a cotton swab and dabbed the long indent, getting a spot of blood. Placing into the plastic bag, she checked the outside of the door until it led her to the door knob. It was half off the door also with the same marks she found on the other side.

She repeated her work to find a broken nails wedged into the knob, placing it into a clean plastic. Rachel tapped Eric’s shoulder handing him the evidence bags. “Eric, you need to photograph the door closely, you missed something.” Rachel advised walking through the door. The place looked sort of damp; the ruby colored wall looked orange and kind of had a green tinge to it. The crime scene investigators were doing their job properly, but they would need to hurry up before the media got here. They snapped pictures of the couch, swabs taking place, fingerprints the works. If she didn’t get to it personal, it would arrive on her desk or Jonathan’s.

She was second command under him since he was the chief of police or commissioner in Manhattan. So writing the reports would be something she did, but sometimes she found a way to go around it, allowing him to do some work regardless of his position.

She walked around the carpet, glimpsing into the bedroom as photographs were taking some crime scene snapshots. Rachel tried to piece the crime together, but a lot of things were still missing for one: The suspect’s intent.

“Rachel,” she heard his voice, calm and paramount call to her. She entered the bathroom, her stomach doing back flips as she observed. “What kind of person could do this?” he shifted a bit, giving Rachel a great view to the scene. The woman’s back rested near the pipe, her arms draped on each side of the tub’s rim, like she was trying to escape the savage encounter from her husband.

Her head rested against the blood covered titles. The tub was half full with the blood that was in her body; it swam with portions of her shredded organs. Rachel leaned closer cautiously; the smell of the decaying body hit her hard as she wrinkled her nose.

“Rachel-”

“I’m fine…” she answered firmly. “What do you think happened?”

Jonathan looked at her nervously for a brief moment, focusing his attention the case. “They had a struggle, somehow she ended up in the tub, that’s when he striked. He pushed her against the tub,” – he lifted the woman’s dead hand with a small wooden stick, exposing nail marks- “during the struggle to reclaim her ground, she must have fought him repeatedly.”

“Or,” Rachel whispered, “maybe when he started to rip her rib cage with human hands.” She added sarcastically. Jonathan looked at her with a haughty look. “Well he needed a weapon to actually do that right?”

He started at her comically, “Obliviously, a person couldn’t do that.” Rachel tapped her foot leisurely, “there’s no hint of a weapon.”

“Maybe he took it with him?” Rachel replied, letting her eyes wander on the ceiling.

“Possible…” Rachel heard him shift as he stood up, “I’ll get a team to take some pictures...” Jonathan excused himself leaving the bathroom. Rachel kneeled near the tub, the smell making her stomach protest again, but she fought it down inspecting the woman. Her clothing was torn baring her breasts, but half of it was missing on one side. They was a deep cavity where her liver, stomach, lungs and intensities would be. The rib cage looked like it was punctured inward and not by a weapon, either…

Rachel wondered what could possibly happen for her to suffer this way? Specially to have your organs ripped out while you’re still alive…

“Miss?” the voice whispered breaking her thought process, “I don’t mean to intrude, but Mr. Reese wants me to snap the shots right away.”

“Sure, let me get out of the way.” Rachel departed from the bathroom, dismissing herself from the crime scene. She went into the kitchen seeing Jonathan with a cup in his hand and tape in the other. He looked completely incased in his work, using the tape with mildly fingers to extract the print. He really was a sweet guy, ease on the eyes, smart, funny; she still wondered why she couldn’t like him.

He was looking at the glass like a scientist, looking for all the formulas his brain could must. Jonathan was truly stunning, athletic build, slightly tall, black curly hair that drifted loosely against his shoulders, sultry lips that matched him.

“Rachel?” Jonathan asked curiously, “Are you ok?”

She nodded her head, forcing her dazed thoughts away. “What you go there?” Rachel asked strolling toward him composed, at least she thought so.

“Just a glass with a man’s fingerprints, mostly Edmunds,” Jonathan replied contemptuously, with a wicked grin, “Wanna grab a bite?” He leaned back, extracting the tape from the glass folding it in half to preserve the fingerprints. The room remained silent expect for the crime assembly doing their job. “My offer is still standing, Rachel.” He whispered leisurely.

“Can I get a rain check?” she asked, giving her reason before he could answer. “We should finish things here first, there’s a lot that were missing, and how can you think about food right now?” Rachel asked skeptically.

Jonathan laughed, “Excuse me for being human, Rach. Probably don’t feel like eating anyway right?” he asked in-a-matter-of fact voice. He knew her well, big cases like this she normal doesn’t eat for the day. On a daily bases she usually skipped breakfast for some odd reason.

“Yes…” Rachel mumbled, not happy to agree with him as a grin beamed on his face. Rachel noticed he looked over her shoulder to see the analyst.

“Yea…?” Jonathan asked, placing the glass down with care.

“Where almost done, but you probably want to do something with the camera crew. There unloading outside, already there talking to the tenants to find out what’s going on.”

Jonathan sighed and excused himself so he could talk privately with the analyst. With that brief relief, Rachel paced the kitchen and its gloomy atmosphere like the rest of the apartment. Everything looked ordinary, the try and matching curtains that were a sickening color of green. The sink full of dirty dishes, roach infested counters from the lack of cleaning, a wooden table with a plastic covering. Jonathan probably checked the whole area of the kitchen by now, or someone else did, but it never hurted to take another sweep around.

Rachel examined everything Jonathan went through, finding the dust to locate fingerprints mostly everywhere, nothing.

“Making sure I did my work perfectly, Ms. Sinclair?” Jonathan asked, he walked around to face her. “I take my work to heart, and make sure I missed nothing. Wouldn’t be in the position I’m in if I slacked off, now would I?” He smiled warmly, as it reached his hazel brown eyes.

Rachel rolled her eyes, “Stop gloating would you?” she smiled, “Now what?”

Jonathan shrugged, “I’ve placed a few cops in the front to stop the camera clue from entering, where stopping for today.” Rachel nodded in agreement and followed like an obedient pet, right now she was too tired to argue.