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Light of the Moon
By Mark Hunter
Chapter 1
Origins
March 1, 1999 Ft. Collins, Colorado, North of Denver
The light from the full moon gave a weird illusion below to the cars parked
on the street. In the late hours of the night one could not see a soul
walking the streets. There was a steady breeze blowing relieving the heat
from early on in the day. Perhaps this was the perfect night for a jog.
That's what Monica thought. She gracefully raised her arms in the air
stretching out as far as she could possibly go. For Monica this was a nightly
routine where she would jog for five miles or so and return home for a hot,
soothing bath. She started off by speed walking then gradually breaking into
a sprint. Turning down 99th street she did not notice a man standing in the
shadows of a tree smoking a cigarette. After seeing Monica jog by the man
extinguished the cigarette on the palm of his hand and pulled a ski mask over
his face. Unaware of the dark figure Monica halted at 101st street quickly
stealing a glance at her watch. Out of nowhere the man grasped Monica around
the waist and dragged her off into an alley repeatedly striking her in the
face. "Let me go!" Monica screamed as she kicked and punched at her attacker.
Disregarding Monica's screams the man pulled an ice pick from his pocket and
jammed it into Monica's mouth causing her to spew blood onto the ground and
die instantaneously. "This little piggy had none," The man said in a muffled
voice slicing off one of Monica's fingers.
FBI Headquarters, Washington DC
The chiming of the telephone brought special agent Drankard out of a
daydream. "Hello", he said in a low voice. The voice on the telephone fully
awakened Drankard; it was then he realized that it was Lt. Davis from the Ft.
Collins Police Department. Lt. Collins only called Drankard when something
grim had happened and only then. "What's up Davis", he asked opening a desk
drawer. "Mark we got something real bad here", Lt. Davis answered back. "Go
ahead", Drankard finished up. "Well we got a woman found three blocks from
her house in the alley,". Drankard stood up and lifted the blinds in his
office. "Is that it?" he said scratching his head. "No that's not all", Lt.
Davis continued. "She was found with an ice pick shoved in her throat and her
index finger was cut off". "Woah", Drankard blurted
out, and sat violently in his chair. "OK Jeff, fax me over some info on this
and I'll see what I can do, in the meanwhile try to get some sleep"
"Same here partner," with that only a dialtone was audible.
March 2, 1999 FT Collins Police Station
"Long time no see," Lt Davis greeted as Drankard stepped through the double
doors.
"I made it as soon as I could," replied Drankard. "Where's the body?".
"It's at the Coroner's office, they just started the autopsy on it, shall we?"
Drankard put his sunglasses on and pointed to the doors.
"You're the man."
March 2, 1400 Hrs Denver Coroner's Office
"So this is it?" Peering around the death house Drankard spotted the
tools of the trade. Scapals,bone drills, and everything else needed for an
autopsy.
A Man in a white doctor's coat stepped forward and greeted the two men.
"Hello gentlemen," Dr. Myers said quietly. "I guess you came for that slab of
meat," he said pointing.
"Since you put it in that term, yes we did," Lt Davis replied.
Dr. Myers pointed. "Well let's go."
The men slowly walked over to the table gazing at the covered body.
Uncovering the body Dr. picked up a scapal that was already laid out.
"This is gonna get bloody." Starting at the left shoulder Dr. Meyers made a
"Y" incision to open the chest cavity.
Dropping the scapal he pulled back the folds of flesh unveiling the bloody
chest muscles.
"This is the fun part," he said picking up a bone saw. With one click of a
switch the bone saw made a quiet whirring sound.
Applying the saw to the rib cage it cut with laser precision. Dropping the
saw
Dr. Myers pulled back the rib cage.
"SH--" he blurted. As the three men stared into the chest cavity they noticed
there were no internal organs. No heart, lungs or any traces of them.
In their place was a thick black liquid the consistency of mucus.
"I take it this isn't normal," Lt Davis whispered.
Shaking his head Dr. Myers looked up at Drankard.
"I think you got more than a homicide on your hands."
"Looks that way Doctor, exactly."
To be Continued...
