Dust, debris, darkness. I grasped for my lighter and lit another menthol cigarette. The fumes overpowered my senses like ten thousand volts stimulating my body. “What have you done to this broad you sick mother…” I had to stop myself; I knew what would happen if I got angry. Doc had told me if I don’t keep my temper in check, that I’ll be taking a trip to the asylum. Animosity throttled me as I gazed down at her mangled corpse. Her body, fragmentary, displayed no resemblance of the broad I had known, the broad I had loved. I was going to find whoever did this to her, and when I did, may God have mercy on my soul.

“Hey! Johnny, get a load of this would ya.” The rain beat down as I trembled towards the scene. I was hesitant, I knew what had happened, heck, I even volunteered for the case – what I didn’t expect was the ruthlessness, the brutality of this one. I’ve been on some vulgar cases in my time, but none can compare to the barbarity of what this monstrosity had committed. The smell was enough to nauseate me, worse still, it had only been ten minutes since we got the call! “What d’ya think?”
“What do you mean, what do I think? I think we need to catch this guy, fast!” I flicked my notepad open, the paper sliced through the rain like a cleaver… I shuddered…

I heard the slam of a door, the snap of a lighter, and then the smell of a smoke. “The Cops?!” I fled down the alley, I knew I had to get to work; I wasn’t going to let this job get done for me by the filth. I was going to catch the guy who hurt my broad, and I was gonna finish him, unlike the cops. I was gonna finish him for good. Make him suffer, make him beg. But first, I had to get off the streets and get cleaned up. Her blood stained my shirt, the smell of her smouldering flesh clasped itself to my very being. Donnie could help me.

The squad car door barricaded me in. I couldn’t breathe. The putrid, tawdry stench  entangling me. “C’mon, I’ll give ya a ride to the bar; you’ll be needin’ one after that? Haha.” I didn’t know what was worse, the charred and dismembered body I’d just witnessed, or Danny and his ignorant laughter and nonchalant attitude to the case. “I don’t want a drink, I want to find whoever did this.”
“Look buddy, the guy ain’t getting outta this city anytime soon, the bridge is flooded. At least lemme buy you one drink, what d’ya say?”
“One drink.”

My reflection in the mirror looked disfigured. Donnie was always good to me; I knew he wouldn’t mind me coming here. My ears were ringing – shouldn’t have had that last drink. My hands felt like foreign bodies, latched on to my torso. “Looks like I’ll be spending the night here again.” I stumbled into the apartment, pitch black. I made my way through the room and collapsed into the sofa. I grasped for my lighter and lit another menthol cigarette.

“Here you go fellers, two beers, on the house.”
“Thanks Molly.” Danny knew this place; he had a way with the barmaids. They adored him. “So what are you boys up to tonight? Catch any bad guys?”
“Naa, we’re on a case Molly, some sicko killed a lady down by 67th street.”
“Oh really? That’s horrible. Say, I had a guy in here who said he was on his way down to 67th street to see his girl. Hope she’s okay.”

Coming soon: Read “The Woman: Part Two.”

(Featured image creditAbstract vector designed by Balintseby – Freepik.com. Used under the Creative Commons Licence.)