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J Hart F

Friday, August 27, 2010

The Invention (Part 1)

Against the windowless wall, where darkness loomed from the crevices all around, a woman watched with intent eyes wondering from where her will to deceive came. It came naturally, thoughtlessly, and maliciously even though she cared not for the delicate intrigues permeating every instance of her deception. These myriads of information swam in her ind, developing, creating, and deepening the world towards which she worked.

Her desires didn't include the dead body before her. Nor did they include the pool of blood expanding towards the opened door.

however hard she pressed against the light-less wall, she couldn't escape without stepping into the world again. Into her world, and though she didn't feel emotions about the deceased before her, she understood the blame that would fall upon her character. None wold understand, no-one would help her once this was revealed.

Determination crept up her spine like the tingle of nerves being reawakened during a massage.

If I stay and call this in... They won't pin me for his murder. I haven't touched him. I didn't do anything. There isn't any evidence connecting me to his death. They'll find me innocent of this event.

And with that, she reached into her right pocket of her cargo pants and extracted her cellular telephone. She flipped it open and called the police, allowing the light to illuminate her face for a second.

"Hello, what's the nature of your emergency?"

"I'm in a room with a dead body. I didn't see it happen, but I was in the room when he died; I don't know who did it. Please send someone quickly."

"Yes, miss. Where are you?"

"At the Invention Hotel on the corner of Styx and Dawn. Third floor. Room 5."

"What's your name, dear?"

"...I don't know."

"Are you safe?"

"Yes. I'm quite alone."

"Are you injured?"


"Can you leave the room and get to the ground floor?"

"If I exit the room I'll step in blood, compromising evidence. There aren't any windows in this room, only a door leading to the hallway."

The lady on the other end began to sound genuinely worried. It was obvious she had some training in psychology and thought the worst of the situation. "Are you sure you can't find a clear path to the door? Look down at the ground around your feet, dear."

"I'm not in shock. The pool of blood is clearly blocking the entire doorway and has spread very far. I don't know if it's all real or if it's even all his, but I cannot bypass it without compromising it. I'm standing against the west wall in the dark so I won't be near the body."

"Alright, miss. The police are on the way. Feel free to stay on the--"

"I'll be fine on my own. Thank you."

"I have your information here. I'll call you as soon as the police enter the building."

"Again. Thank you." She closed the phone and placed it back in the right pocket of her cargo pants. The waiting began. Enveloped in silence she was able to think about everything.

She honestly couldn't remember her name, which bothered her. She comprehensively knew the characteristics that made her personality, the psychology that motivated her thoughts, and the inherent strengths of body, but much of her past was unknown. Where was she from? Who were her parents? How did she get to the third floor of the Invention Hotel on the corner of Styx and Dawn? The more she thought, the more questions arose in her mind about the situation. Who killed the man and why wasn't she killed also? How likely were the police officers to believe she didn't kill him?

This thought triggered something deep in her body. She knew, without a doubt, she didn't kill the man. It was an odd knowledge, though; like knowing she had driven from point A to point B, but not remembering the processes used to get there. She also knew that the man was familiar to her, someone who had spent much of his time around her, but not in a sexual or friendly way. The feeling was more business oriented, calculated and determined. She regarded his body and wondered if he was her bodyguard.

That answer was too simple.

Somewhere three stories down, the main door opened and closed with a hushed thud. The woman felt the vibrations of the building and knew the policemen were walking cautiously toward the stairs. In her mind, an accurate picture of five officers blossomed. The same dark blue outfits fit slug over their bodies with the same tool belts. Their guns were poised shoot anything that might attack from around any corner. Their steps were gentle but rushed, eyes darting everywhere. Tension hunched their shoulders forward slightly and their breath was shallow and smooth. Two of the officers had longer hair, while the other three kept to a shorter style more akin to masculinity. Each of the officers was ill-prepared for homicide: the small town wasn't custom to much more than petty theft.

The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone a split second before the call came.

"Hello." She tried to make her voice sound a little less together this time.

The slight quiver seemed to have worked. "It's alright. The police officers are just downstairs. I'll stay on the phone with you until they reach the third floor hallway, okay?"

"Yes. That would be nice. I'm sorry..."

"There's no need to apologize, miss. You'll be fine."

"I just want to get out of here. I think I can smell his blood." The added drama only generated more compassion from the woman on the other end of the line.

"Dear, you're going to be alright. Don't look at the body, keep your eyes on the door. Soon one of the officers will call down the hallway and you'll reply and he'll appear in the door to get you."

She closed her eyes and saw the officers reaching the third floor door in the stairwell. "Are they almost here?"

"Yes. They're just downstairs. Don't worry. They'll be there in a moment."

The woman felt the door to the hallway open. Time to turn the excitement up. "Oh-my-god... I-just-heard-something... Someone's-in-the-hallway-What-should-I-do-Oh-my-god..." The words tumbled out of her mouth.

From the hallway, a shout resounded with perfect clarity. "Miss. This is the police. Are you alright?"

"Miss, it should be the police. It's okay to respond to them now. They're there to protect you."

The woman smiled in the darkness. Her chest was pounding, her breath quickening slightly, and her body tingling with excitement. This felt natural and fun, manipulating people to believe her to be in distress. "I'm down here... in here..." She closed her phone and put it back in the same pocket.

Loud footsteps, much louder than downstairs, came thudding down the hallway at a jogging rate. An instant later, the first police officer stood outside the door, shocked by the monstrosity displayed on the floor. The blood was everywhere, pooled entirely around the door and his body. His head was twisted with a bullet in his temple, eyes open wide and his mouth appeared angry. His cloths were in tatters, revealing skin which had been ripped open somehow, though not falling off his body.

The second officer pushed him out of the way and started taking pictures of the scene. As soon as a few were acquired, the third officer gingerly entered the room, shining a flashlight around the tiny, empty utilities closet until he found the woman. He froze.

She was almost a dream. Her hair fell down her shoulders: black with the shimmering hues of red, purple, and blue. Her face was thin with a cute nose and oval eyes. Purple irises looked back, tears wetting their lids and dropping down her pale cheeks. She wore a tight black shirt made of a material the officer couldn't name. The outfit revealed her strong, lean build in a perfectly proportioned frame. Once he had taken the vision in, she collapsed to the ground, fainting, as it were.

To Be Continued...

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