chapter 1
Mike couldn’t wrap his head around it even though this might have been the simplest case of his career. He just couldn’t understand what happened here. Sure the murderer was caught and they had several witnesses to prove he was guilty, mike just couldn’t understand it. He had seen the body repeatedly stabbed with a knife it was a terrible sight but could such a regular man have done this. “don’t try to understand psychos rookie”, mike turned around to see detective mulligan a well-built man with salt and pepper hair “they make no sense” mulligan said while looking him straight in the eye. A cold silence returned to the room as the two detectives watched the blood stains and broken furniture in the room both trying to imagine what happened here.
“my parents used to fight all the time” mike said still scanning the room “it was terrible and…” mike stopped his sentence as if he was lost in his memories, as if he could picture his parents in a situation like this. Mike walked around the room glancing at the pictures on the wall while mulligan looked at him as if expecting him to continue but mike didn’t his mind was a mess right now and they both knew it. “go home kid, have dinner take a shower get a good night’s sleep you should feel better in the morning” mulligan said softly he looked at mike almost like a father. “will you be alright” mike asked mulligan. Mulligan chuckled almost emptily and sadly “sadly rookie, this ain’t my first rodeo”. Mike nodded before leaving the room.
Mike left the apartment and proceeded down the flight of stairs “this is just fucked up” mike said. The dark-skinned detective had seen his fair share of domestic violence hell he grew up seeing it almost daily but what happened here today made his drunk of a father look like a saint. Mike left the apartment and marched toward the police cruiser, seating at the back of the vehicle was a skinny man with dirty blonde hair in his early thirties his white dress shirt soaked in blood, his wife’s blood. The man; john Meyer appeared docile as he stared blankly into space his eyes devoid of all emotion. Mike went through what he knew about the murder in his head, john was an accountant at a local firm he got fired yesterday, had a spat with his wife this morning left home and returned to kill his wife. Case closed; it would seem he just went crazy, but mike wasn’t sure he could get a good sleep this night if he didn’t at least speak to this man.
“Mr. Meyer” mike said in his most detective sounding voice. John looked up at him but said nothing. The emptiness that mike saw in those brown eyes was unnerving and mike suddenly felt like he was the one handcuffed in a police cruiser. John meyer was so indifferent to his arrival that mike felt it was unnatural. “I’m sure it was” john suddenly said startling mike “yes it has to be” john said again, mike now waiting for every word like his life depended on it “of course… it was his” john said his face lighting up like he just solved a puzzle, then it was empty again like he wasn’t the man who was just speaking. Mike felt like he had to know more so he lowered his head and asked the obviously crazy man “whose?” john looked up his face contorted in complete and absolute rage mike stepped back. Glanced and the man and heard him growl out to words a name “Gabriel jones” he said with enough hate pushing through that mike was afraid he was going to kill someone else. John suddenly broke down in tears for once finally appearing like a man who had lost everything. Mike knew that name Gabriel jones, he owned the firm were john was recently fired from. Mike walked away deciding to finally go home and take mulligan’s advice.
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John sat in his new cell. His mind replaying the day’s events and the more it did the more afraid he became. He was afraid of that thing and all he could do was hope it couldn’t get him. He remembered the rage he felt. The anger it gave him it was unnatural. John hoped the police got rid of it, but he knew they didn’t it was ancient and crafty and it killed daphne. Yes, it killed his wife not him he would never hurt daphne. Daphne was his childhood sweetheart who had always been there for him he loved her. He didn’t, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t kill her.
As john sat here his mind thinking about daphne, about Gabriel, about that thing and he didn’t know how how to feel it wore him like a meat suit used his anger and murdered his wife the woman he loved. As john thought how much he loved her he felt himself wondering if she loved him either, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have been seeing Gabriel for years she wouldn’t have. Mike broke into tears and he screamed” WHY!!!!!!!” it could have been anyone why him why daphne why Gabriel why was his life ruined by that thing. He continued crying as he slowly drifted off to sleep.
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Detective phillip mulligan that was his name he had been a police officer for thirty years now. He was the most experienced officer in the station, and he was stumped. John meyer the madman who killed his own wife had only been an average joe matter of fact he was what came to mind when you heard the word average joe yet how did he get his hands on something like this Phil thought as he stared at a weirdly shaped bronze dagger with a hilt that seemed to be carved from stone. It was a weapon that seemed to invoke some sense of primal savagery its double-edged blade was coated in layers of blood from who knows how many people over who knows how many years. The thing looked like it belonged in a museum rather than with an average guy like john. Phil didn’t need to be a genius to tell you this knife had killed a lot of people. If someone was killing people with this thing, why was it with john was it someone or people. Phil shuddered at the thought of lunatics sharing knifes and killing people, he needed to know luckily, he had called the museum and they were sending an expert to identify just what kind of knife this thing was.
“God help us” the detective whispered under his breath. He left the evidence locker to check every mysterious knife murder in the past few years. “this is gonna be a long night” he said closing the door behind him as he set of to begin his investigation.
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Mike walked into the station feeling a lot better compared to last night. After a series of good mornings and how you doings another officer told him the chief and mulligan wanted to see him in the evidence locker, so he hurried over. He tried to get there on time, he knew the chief didn’t like him it wasn’t personal or anything he just didn’t like the concept of black police officers for some reason or at least that was what he had heard. Although sometimes mike suspected he didn’t like any one being cops.
Mike went through a few checks before entering the locker where he saw two men he didn’t recognize around a box of something and both the chief and mulligan watching them both. “sir” mike greeted the chief before turning to mulligan “detective did you get any sleep?” “I wish “mulligan said. The chief interrupted the conversation before it could proceed further “while you were ‘sleeping’ detective mulligan was investigating the murder weapon” he said pointing his hand at the two men who were examining the strange blade they got from meyer yesterday.
“ I would love to take this dagger to the museum for more analysis we have tools that could tell us more about it” said a short man in glasses he seemed to shake nervously while his gloved hands held the bloody dagger like a baby “how soon can you have it back here” asked mulligan while mike watched curiously. “ honestly this thing is a mystery its at least eight hundred years old from what I can see, it doesn’t fit with any type of ancient dagger I know and judging from the exquisite craftmanship it wasn’t made for battle to heavy, more like a ceremonial dagger used for sacrifices”. “how soon doctor” the chief stopped him before he could continue rambling. “two weeks” said the other man, a bearded lanky man who had been scribbling notes since mike arrived “we would need to examine every layer of blood on it find out how out old they are and if they are all actually human” the tall lanky man said “this thing has at least five hundred years’ worth of dried blood on it. The thought sent shivers down mike’s spine how many people had been killed with a single dagger in five hundred years he wondered. “fine “said the chief the man looked at the dagger reluctantly for some reason almost as if he didn’t trust the two men.
The chief turned away from the men and faced mike before glancing at both mike and mulligan “my office” he said before walking away only to stop at the door before facing mike and grunting out “now”. Mike and mulligan followed the chief mulligan stopping to glance at the knife before exiting the room. As all three men walked through the station in silence mike wondered just what he had missed last night. Mike turned to mulligan before asking him “how’s meyer doing” mulligan didn’t even bother to look at mike before saying “bad, on his way to a nuthouse last I checked”. “He said something about Gabriel jones last night” mike said he paused contemplating the implications of his words carefully. “I think we need to ask him a few questions”. Mulligan said nothing as they continued to walk toward the chief’s office.
When they got into the chief’s office, he immediately locked the door behind them before taking his seat behind the desk. “first off” the chief began slowly “I don’t want anyone else to know about all of this, it’s all to strange” he seemed to be afraid of leaking the progress of the investigation before it was concluded “secondly, you are both gonna be investigating this case but separately, nobody does anything without informing me, mulligan I need you to check any knife murders in the past similar to this one” then he turned to mike, “Henshaw go speak to jones find out everything about john meyer and this murder I have a feeling we’ve stumbled on something huge.”
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Thomas wasn’t expecting this when he became a archeology major. He wanted to be indianna jones go on adventures solve mysteries and discover ancient secrets. Yet the only ancient secret he ever found was the dagger in front of him, at least he thought it was a dagger, it could pass for a short sword. He sighed before proceeding to continue peeling of the dried blood from the blade. Doctor wear said it had something to do with the police and he could tell why. The blade was ancient and the blood on it was as well he continued separating the blood into separate tubes. Someone else was going to find out how old the blood was and if it was human. John could only make up stories in his head as he peeled the blade. He imagined an ancient cult using a single blade to commit murders all through history, the thought was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Whose blood was on this dagger. It could be any number of people from any where in the world but even he could tell some splats of blood were older than others.
Thomas thought what if it was one of the daggers that stabbed ceaser even though it didn’t look exactly roman. What if it was an Inca blade. No it felt older somehow. He dropped his tools and picked up the dagger from the hilt, his gloved hand fitting nicely against the stone hilt. He imagined being stabbed by this thing he was sure it would hurt like hell the blade was a foot long, it was wide and intimidating like a butcher’s knife yet it’s tip was clearly made for stabbing. The stone hilt barely had enough space for one hand. It was a frightening weapon covered in weird carvings and writings. He swung hit around a few times, he didn’t need to be a weapons expert to know what this thing would do to a human being. Its shape made him put more power into every swing gaining momentum as he went building up power. He started to enjoy swinging it around. He imagined his bullies in high school. His brother even doctor wear who left him in charge of this stupid dagger and he got angry. In his mind he saw them all and saw himself cut, hack and stab. And they were all dead. He got angrier and angrier. The sound of the blade cutting through the air was all he could hear until. “THOMAS!!”, he turned to see a furious doctor wear he looked as intimidating as his short portly stature could make him. “what do you think you are doing” the man shouted.
Thomas never realized how much he hated the man, how angry he made him feel. No it wasn’t just wear twisted with uncontrollable rage and Thomas smiled.
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There was the chance that john meyer had been a serial killer. Maybe he had claimed several lives with that strange dagger already. His wife could be only the latest in a string of murders all committed by him alone. There was also the possibility mulligan brought forward a group of people, perhaps some kind of sick cult carrying out murders with the dagger or even other stranger tools. As ridiculous as it sounded he wasn’t leaving anything of the table. He leaned back into the chair of his office while he looked at the documents mulligan had brought into his office this morning. Over the last fifty years there had been eighty nine murders similar to daphne Meyer only five people including john Meyer. It could be multiple serial killers copying each other. But what really annoyed him was that the police never noticed.
“FUCK,FUCK,FUCK”, he shouted out. It was as if whatever this was the police were a joke to it. As if he was a joke to it and he wasn’t a joke. All the convicts said the same thing they didn’t want to kill anyone something made them; some kind of voice. He continued glancing through the files until he saw a statement from one of them a convicted serial serial killer, this man had killed ten people and when he was found he blamed a knife, a knife the police never found, no they never bothered to find. He suddenly had a terrible feeling perhaps he shouldn’t have let that knife out of the station. He needed to call them to bring it back. No he’ll go get it himself. He immediately got out of his chair and walked out of his office hurrying as fast as he could.
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I could feel it repressed anger. Buried pain. John was hurt, but Thomas he wanted to hurt. Who am I not to help him. He looked at the short fat man who walked in the room and I knew he wanted to hurt him so I told him to. I told him to end him. Thomas screamed, a scream of pure rage and anger. He raised me up and pointed my tip at the man. He was terrified I knew it, so I told Thomas and he knew it too. The short man tried to move back to escape but Thomas was angrier so Thomas was stronger and stronger was faster. He sprung towards the fat man pushed him. He raised me up and plunged me down. But the fat man managed to slip away. “stop it Thomas” the fat man said, but we were not Thomas, we let out a scream, then a laugh then another scream. Then the man realized we were not Thomas. We stood up slowly and then we stretched. He saw me in Thomas’s hand and then he asked slowly. “who… no. what are you?” Thomas wanted us to answer but I no use talking to the fat man. we walked slowly as the fat man took a step back with every step we took. The fat man was approaching a wall and then… then I would pierce into him splitting his skin rending his muscles slashing his fat and releasing all the blood in him till ther e wa nothing left. We were going to relish his death and enjoy it it would be more enjoyable than the two i killed with john. No, not john I couldn’t think about john I had THOMAS. We were not john. As soon as I was about to penetrate the fat man’s guts. We were hit by something. Thomas let go of me and I was on the floor again weak and powerless.
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Tobias just almost died. His student Thomas, no that wasn’t Fred. What ever that thing was it almost killed him. He turned to the side to see the man who had thrown a fire extinguisher at Thomas. The police chief stood there panting. His eyes locked at something on the floor. Tobias followed his eyes only to find himself taking a step back when he saw it the dagger. That thing was vibrating on the floor trying to move. “dear god” Tobias uttered in shock. The police chief approached it slowly before taking of his coat and wrapping the dagger up in it.
The chief turned and faced Tobias before he said in his usual commanding tone “I need to know everything about this…” he paused looking at the bundled up coat as if trying to find the right word for the dagger “thing” he spat reluctantly. As if being called a thing was to good for the dagger.
Tobias glanced down at Thomas considering the young man’s safety before he spoke to the chief “you and me both Obadiah, but first we need to contain it better” Tobias had never been as scared or excited as he was now he glanced at the weapon that had probably caused an impossible number of deaths and he couldn’t wait to uncover all its secrets
“it’s not leaving my sight again” spoke Obadiah the police chief. Tobias knew that Obadiah valentine barely trusted anyone but unlike others he knew it wasn’t out of spite or hatred. He just didn’t enjoy putting others in danger. It was most likely why he had come here himself rather than send other officers.
“well I guess you are my new assistant” Obadiah groaned after hearing that and Tobias knew this was going to be as fun as it was danderous.
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Mark had no idea what he was thinking when he asked to be transferred to this city. It couldn’t be that bad, its just another city, no matter how bad the reputation of the people living here they were just that in the end, people, not monsters or animals, people. He was so naïve. Th city lured people with its shiny façade and sent them down its abyss of madness. It was multiple layers of filth covered in something that looked like hope, everyone in this city was mad to an extent, and he probably was too for thinking he could make a difference here. He couldn’t even fathom the amount of lives this city had taken today alone from the gangs and smugglers that filled its port, the mafias that filled the city, the politicians and police man that aided them and mad men like the famous bloodletter and probably john Meyers.
Mark sighed as he walked into the building’s reception. He strode confidently to the receptionist, placed his badge on the table much to the receptionist’s shock “I’m detective mark Henshaw ill like to speak with mister Gabriel jones” he spoke in his detective voice. “yes sir, right away sir” the woman at the desk stammered. If there was one thing mark liked about this city it would be how people reacted when they saw a police officer, he would never say it out loud but it boosted his ego.
Mark followed the woman into an elevator and after arriving at the third floor she guided him to an office where he saw a man facing the window, probably enjoying the view while he made a phone call “ill pay you Ezekiel, when have I ever backed out of a deal” the man laughed as he spoke.
Mark didn’t wait for the man to notice him before taking his seat and crossing his legs patiently waiting for the phone call to come to an end. The receptionist left the room practically running but mark wasn’t sure if she was running from him or Gabriel. A minute later Gabriel turned around haven ended his conversation, he appeared shocked to see mark Mark before gathering himself, seating behind his desk grabbing a cigarette and giving mark a charming smile. “smoke?” Gabriel asked “no” mark responded in his patented detective voice. “your lost mate. Its quite a good smoke” the man said “now who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my office” he said while lighting his cigarette, never taking his eyes of mark. Mark reached into his pocket and grabbed his badge placing it on the desk and pushing it towards Gabriel. “would you also like to see the warrant mister jones” he asked as calmly as possible. “what do you want” Gabriel asked looking irritated “we have reason to believe you were a party in the murder of daphne Meyers” mark said “daph?” He asked confused “I spoke to her yesterday, is this some kind of joke?” “what was your relationship with Mrs. Meyers” mark asked genuinely curious “we were friends, are friends” the man said not accepting her death “were you also friends with her husband john who worked here until yesterday” mark asked pressing on “GET OUT!!” Gabriel shouted his cigarette falling out of his mouth in his anger.
Mark calmly stood up grabbing his badge of the table along with a cigarette which he proceeded to light with his lighter, Gabriel stood up his face red with anger but before he could shout again mark spoke up “the police would be in touch mister jones” he said walking away only to stop at the door and turn back to Gabriel “have a wonderful day” he said before walking out of the room
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Fred guided his last customer for today to his seat. His job wasn’t exactly fulfilling but he found more pleasure in being a barber than others did. The feeling of holding a blade to a man’s throat while the fool failed to realize just how close to death he actually was. It was enough for him to get through the day, although sometimes he considered just actually doing it, the look of shock would be incredible as the fool chocked on his own blood. However, Fred wasn’t stupid he saved those kinds of actions for his nightly adventures. Those where his real passion, Fred never wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer as a child, that always seemed like too much hard work although he surely had the intellect if his teachers were to be believed. He could have easily been an athlete if he wanted to, but once again too much work. Fred was perfect in everyway, it was why his his father hated him ‘all that potential, and you still live in my house’ his father would say every morning but Fred didn’t care he never did. He only ever wanted to enjoy his life gaze at people who thought they were his equals slowly realize they weren’t, although without any hard work.
Fred found his way when he was eleven, a dog had barked at him thinking he was beneath it and Fred had waited till when it fell asleep, he placed a kitchen knife at it’s throat and slit it. The dog woke up and he saw it. It’s eyes has it died it realized it was the one beneath Fred. Now Fred does the same thing in this city full of dogs. And the best part was he did it with the same pair of scissors he used to cut hair during the day. The same one he was currently using to cut a man’s hair, trimming just a little as he combed. “there, all done” Fred said with his usual smile as he gave the police detective his usual trim.
“thanks Fred” said the clueless man.
“Anytime Philip” Fred said “see you next week” he said guiding mulligan to the door. The detective smiled at Fred before leaving. Fred found it impressive how a man who was already balding could care so much about his hair, the detective came at the same time every week even if the city was burning Fred was certain mulligan would be here.
Fred proceeded to pack up not forgetting his lucky scissors he said goodnight to the other barbers before leaving. Fred stepped out of the barber shop an enigma his blond hair combed neatly as he walked back home he was probably the only barber in the world that went to work in a suit. His combs, gels, blade and scissors all packed in his briefcase. If one didn’t know they would assume he had a more important job and in many ways he did.
He wondered who he was going to play with today “keep it spontaneous Fred” he said to himself, reminding himself to leave his next victim to random unlucky coincidence. Mulligan was on his trail and while the city’s best detective was clueless while he got a trim, Fred knew he was skilled at finding elaborate plans.
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Mulligan walked through the prison corridor guided by a guide to the visiting room. He held a file folder in his hand as he hummed following the guard. He felt as cheerful as he always did after his weekly cut, his barber Fred had a way of working miracles making him look and feel twenty years younger after every cut. There was a reason he the most expensive barber at the saloon and Philip couldn’t help but admire the young man’s talents.
He entered the visiting room and sat in front of the reinforced glass panel and grabbed his only means of communicating with the man on the other side. A man who committed a double homicide five years back and was now facing a life sentence. Mulligan was the one to catch him back then. In a city full of all kinds of crime and criminals with secrets around every corner and mysteries up every alley like this one, mulligan didn’t find the case all to strange at least until now. “how are you doing Phillip ?” the man asked in a cheerful tone. “well my back hurts like hell and I’m going crazy over a case but otherwise I’m fine Eugene” “what kind of case would give the greatest detective in this city trouble, is it the famous bloodletter I’m curios to meet him when you catch him though” the bloodletter a serial killer that appeared two years ago he filled his victims with precise cuts and let them bleed to death slowly. Mulligan had been after him for a while and Eugene knew about it even though Philip could never understand how a man in prison was so much in the loop of information. “when it comes to information sometimes you are the one in a prison Philip” the man said as if he knew what was in Philip’s mind. Once the district attorney of this city, now he was just another convict. “it’s about the knife from five years ago, the on you killed Samuel crane with” Eugene seemed to freeze at the mention of the knife. He studied mulligan as if contemplating a million things at once, his eyes flashing with all sorts of emotions. Mulligan leaned closer to the glass plane “I need to know eugene” he said “please” the detective added Eugene smilled and laughed “well I guess it took sherlock holmes five years to notice” he said before continuing “if you find widowmaker” he stopped as if to prepare himself for what he was about to say “destroy it at all cost” eugene said before he stood up and walked away not even glancing at the detective. Phillip had noticed a bit of fear in the man’s eyes when he talked about the knife. He had never seen Eugene scared before, It seemed he needed to have a talk with Eugene some other time but until then he had to contact the chief.
Table of contents
“my parents used to fight all the time” mike said still scanning the room “it was terrible and…” mike stopped his sentence as if he was lost in his memories, as if he could picture his parents in a situation like this. Mike walked around the room glancing at the pictures on the wall while mulligan looked at him as if expecting him to continue but mike didn’t his mind was a mess right now and they both knew it. “go home kid, have dinner take a shower get a good night’s sleep you should feel better in the morning” mulligan said softly he looked at mike almost like a father. “will you be alright” mike asked mulligan. Mulligan chuckled almost emptily and sadly “sadly rookie, this ain’t my first rodeo”. Mike nodded before leaving the room.
Mike left the apartment and proceeded down the flight of stairs “this is just fucked up” mike said. The dark-skinned detective had seen his fair share of domestic violence hell he grew up seeing it almost daily but what happened here today made his drunk of a father look like a saint. Mike left the apartment and marched toward the police cruiser, seating at the back of the vehicle was a skinny man with dirty blonde hair in his early thirties his white dress shirt soaked in blood, his wife’s blood. The man; john Meyer appeared docile as he stared blankly into space his eyes devoid of all emotion. Mike went through what he knew about the murder in his head, john was an accountant at a local firm he got fired yesterday, had a spat with his wife this morning left home and returned to kill his wife. Case closed; it would seem he just went crazy, but mike wasn’t sure he could get a good sleep this night if he didn’t at least speak to this man.
“Mr. Meyer” mike said in his most detective sounding voice. John looked up at him but said nothing. The emptiness that mike saw in those brown eyes was unnerving and mike suddenly felt like he was the one handcuffed in a police cruiser. John meyer was so indifferent to his arrival that mike felt it was unnatural. “I’m sure it was” john suddenly said startling mike “yes it has to be” john said again, mike now waiting for every word like his life depended on it “of course… it was his” john said his face lighting up like he just solved a puzzle, then it was empty again like he wasn’t the man who was just speaking. Mike felt like he had to know more so he lowered his head and asked the obviously crazy man “whose?” john looked up his face contorted in complete and absolute rage mike stepped back. Glanced and the man and heard him growl out to words a name “Gabriel jones” he said with enough hate pushing through that mike was afraid he was going to kill someone else. John suddenly broke down in tears for once finally appearing like a man who had lost everything. Mike knew that name Gabriel jones, he owned the firm were john was recently fired from. Mike walked away deciding to finally go home and take mulligan’s advice.
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John sat in his new cell. His mind replaying the day’s events and the more it did the more afraid he became. He was afraid of that thing and all he could do was hope it couldn’t get him. He remembered the rage he felt. The anger it gave him it was unnatural. John hoped the police got rid of it, but he knew they didn’t it was ancient and crafty and it killed daphne. Yes, it killed his wife not him he would never hurt daphne. Daphne was his childhood sweetheart who had always been there for him he loved her. He didn’t, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t kill her.
As john sat here his mind thinking about daphne, about Gabriel, about that thing and he didn’t know how how to feel it wore him like a meat suit used his anger and murdered his wife the woman he loved. As john thought how much he loved her he felt himself wondering if she loved him either, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have been seeing Gabriel for years she wouldn’t have. Mike broke into tears and he screamed” WHY!!!!!!!” it could have been anyone why him why daphne why Gabriel why was his life ruined by that thing. He continued crying as he slowly drifted off to sleep.
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Detective phillip mulligan that was his name he had been a police officer for thirty years now. He was the most experienced officer in the station, and he was stumped. John meyer the madman who killed his own wife had only been an average joe matter of fact he was what came to mind when you heard the word average joe yet how did he get his hands on something like this Phil thought as he stared at a weirdly shaped bronze dagger with a hilt that seemed to be carved from stone. It was a weapon that seemed to invoke some sense of primal savagery its double-edged blade was coated in layers of blood from who knows how many people over who knows how many years. The thing looked like it belonged in a museum rather than with an average guy like john. Phil didn’t need to be a genius to tell you this knife had killed a lot of people. If someone was killing people with this thing, why was it with john was it someone or people. Phil shuddered at the thought of lunatics sharing knifes and killing people, he needed to know luckily, he had called the museum and they were sending an expert to identify just what kind of knife this thing was.
“God help us” the detective whispered under his breath. He left the evidence locker to check every mysterious knife murder in the past few years. “this is gonna be a long night” he said closing the door behind him as he set of to begin his investigation.
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Mike walked into the station feeling a lot better compared to last night. After a series of good mornings and how you doings another officer told him the chief and mulligan wanted to see him in the evidence locker, so he hurried over. He tried to get there on time, he knew the chief didn’t like him it wasn’t personal or anything he just didn’t like the concept of black police officers for some reason or at least that was what he had heard. Although sometimes mike suspected he didn’t like any one being cops.
Mike went through a few checks before entering the locker where he saw two men he didn’t recognize around a box of something and both the chief and mulligan watching them both. “sir” mike greeted the chief before turning to mulligan “detective did you get any sleep?” “I wish “mulligan said. The chief interrupted the conversation before it could proceed further “while you were ‘sleeping’ detective mulligan was investigating the murder weapon” he said pointing his hand at the two men who were examining the strange blade they got from meyer yesterday.
“ I would love to take this dagger to the museum for more analysis we have tools that could tell us more about it” said a short man in glasses he seemed to shake nervously while his gloved hands held the bloody dagger like a baby “how soon can you have it back here” asked mulligan while mike watched curiously. “ honestly this thing is a mystery its at least eight hundred years old from what I can see, it doesn’t fit with any type of ancient dagger I know and judging from the exquisite craftmanship it wasn’t made for battle to heavy, more like a ceremonial dagger used for sacrifices”. “how soon doctor” the chief stopped him before he could continue rambling. “two weeks” said the other man, a bearded lanky man who had been scribbling notes since mike arrived “we would need to examine every layer of blood on it find out how out old they are and if they are all actually human” the tall lanky man said “this thing has at least five hundred years’ worth of dried blood on it. The thought sent shivers down mike’s spine how many people had been killed with a single dagger in five hundred years he wondered. “fine “said the chief the man looked at the dagger reluctantly for some reason almost as if he didn’t trust the two men.
The chief turned away from the men and faced mike before glancing at both mike and mulligan “my office” he said before walking away only to stop at the door before facing mike and grunting out “now”. Mike and mulligan followed the chief mulligan stopping to glance at the knife before exiting the room. As all three men walked through the station in silence mike wondered just what he had missed last night. Mike turned to mulligan before asking him “how’s meyer doing” mulligan didn’t even bother to look at mike before saying “bad, on his way to a nuthouse last I checked”. “He said something about Gabriel jones last night” mike said he paused contemplating the implications of his words carefully. “I think we need to ask him a few questions”. Mulligan said nothing as they continued to walk toward the chief’s office.
When they got into the chief’s office, he immediately locked the door behind them before taking his seat behind the desk. “first off” the chief began slowly “I don’t want anyone else to know about all of this, it’s all to strange” he seemed to be afraid of leaking the progress of the investigation before it was concluded “secondly, you are both gonna be investigating this case but separately, nobody does anything without informing me, mulligan I need you to check any knife murders in the past similar to this one” then he turned to mike, “Henshaw go speak to jones find out everything about john meyer and this murder I have a feeling we’ve stumbled on something huge.”
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Thomas wasn’t expecting this when he became a archeology major. He wanted to be indianna jones go on adventures solve mysteries and discover ancient secrets. Yet the only ancient secret he ever found was the dagger in front of him, at least he thought it was a dagger, it could pass for a short sword. He sighed before proceeding to continue peeling of the dried blood from the blade. Doctor wear said it had something to do with the police and he could tell why. The blade was ancient and the blood on it was as well he continued separating the blood into separate tubes. Someone else was going to find out how old the blood was and if it was human. John could only make up stories in his head as he peeled the blade. He imagined an ancient cult using a single blade to commit murders all through history, the thought was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Whose blood was on this dagger. It could be any number of people from any where in the world but even he could tell some splats of blood were older than others.
Thomas thought what if it was one of the daggers that stabbed ceaser even though it didn’t look exactly roman. What if it was an Inca blade. No it felt older somehow. He dropped his tools and picked up the dagger from the hilt, his gloved hand fitting nicely against the stone hilt. He imagined being stabbed by this thing he was sure it would hurt like hell the blade was a foot long, it was wide and intimidating like a butcher’s knife yet it’s tip was clearly made for stabbing. The stone hilt barely had enough space for one hand. It was a frightening weapon covered in weird carvings and writings. He swung hit around a few times, he didn’t need to be a weapons expert to know what this thing would do to a human being. Its shape made him put more power into every swing gaining momentum as he went building up power. He started to enjoy swinging it around. He imagined his bullies in high school. His brother even doctor wear who left him in charge of this stupid dagger and he got angry. In his mind he saw them all and saw himself cut, hack and stab. And they were all dead. He got angrier and angrier. The sound of the blade cutting through the air was all he could hear until. “THOMAS!!”, he turned to see a furious doctor wear he looked as intimidating as his short portly stature could make him. “what do you think you are doing” the man shouted.
Thomas never realized how much he hated the man, how angry he made him feel. No it wasn’t just wear twisted with uncontrollable rage and Thomas smiled.
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There was the chance that john meyer had been a serial killer. Maybe he had claimed several lives with that strange dagger already. His wife could be only the latest in a string of murders all committed by him alone. There was also the possibility mulligan brought forward a group of people, perhaps some kind of sick cult carrying out murders with the dagger or even other stranger tools. As ridiculous as it sounded he wasn’t leaving anything of the table. He leaned back into the chair of his office while he looked at the documents mulligan had brought into his office this morning. Over the last fifty years there had been eighty nine murders similar to daphne Meyer only five people including john Meyer. It could be multiple serial killers copying each other. But what really annoyed him was that the police never noticed.
“FUCK,FUCK,FUCK”, he shouted out. It was as if whatever this was the police were a joke to it. As if he was a joke to it and he wasn’t a joke. All the convicts said the same thing they didn’t want to kill anyone something made them; some kind of voice. He continued glancing through the files until he saw a statement from one of them a convicted serial serial killer, this man had killed ten people and when he was found he blamed a knife, a knife the police never found, no they never bothered to find. He suddenly had a terrible feeling perhaps he shouldn’t have let that knife out of the station. He needed to call them to bring it back. No he’ll go get it himself. He immediately got out of his chair and walked out of his office hurrying as fast as he could.
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I could feel it repressed anger. Buried pain. John was hurt, but Thomas he wanted to hurt. Who am I not to help him. He looked at the short fat man who walked in the room and I knew he wanted to hurt him so I told him to. I told him to end him. Thomas screamed, a scream of pure rage and anger. He raised me up and pointed my tip at the man. He was terrified I knew it, so I told Thomas and he knew it too. The short man tried to move back to escape but Thomas was angrier so Thomas was stronger and stronger was faster. He sprung towards the fat man pushed him. He raised me up and plunged me down. But the fat man managed to slip away. “stop it Thomas” the fat man said, but we were not Thomas, we let out a scream, then a laugh then another scream. Then the man realized we were not Thomas. We stood up slowly and then we stretched. He saw me in Thomas’s hand and then he asked slowly. “who… no. what are you?” Thomas wanted us to answer but I no use talking to the fat man. we walked slowly as the fat man took a step back with every step we took. The fat man was approaching a wall and then… then I would pierce into him splitting his skin rending his muscles slashing his fat and releasing all the blood in him till ther e wa nothing left. We were going to relish his death and enjoy it it would be more enjoyable than the two i killed with john. No, not john I couldn’t think about john I had THOMAS. We were not john. As soon as I was about to penetrate the fat man’s guts. We were hit by something. Thomas let go of me and I was on the floor again weak and powerless.
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Tobias just almost died. His student Thomas, no that wasn’t Fred. What ever that thing was it almost killed him. He turned to the side to see the man who had thrown a fire extinguisher at Thomas. The police chief stood there panting. His eyes locked at something on the floor. Tobias followed his eyes only to find himself taking a step back when he saw it the dagger. That thing was vibrating on the floor trying to move. “dear god” Tobias uttered in shock. The police chief approached it slowly before taking of his coat and wrapping the dagger up in it.
The chief turned and faced Tobias before he said in his usual commanding tone “I need to know everything about this…” he paused looking at the bundled up coat as if trying to find the right word for the dagger “thing” he spat reluctantly. As if being called a thing was to good for the dagger.
Tobias glanced down at Thomas considering the young man’s safety before he spoke to the chief “you and me both Obadiah, but first we need to contain it better” Tobias had never been as scared or excited as he was now he glanced at the weapon that had probably caused an impossible number of deaths and he couldn’t wait to uncover all its secrets
“it’s not leaving my sight again” spoke Obadiah the police chief. Tobias knew that Obadiah valentine barely trusted anyone but unlike others he knew it wasn’t out of spite or hatred. He just didn’t enjoy putting others in danger. It was most likely why he had come here himself rather than send other officers.
“well I guess you are my new assistant” Obadiah groaned after hearing that and Tobias knew this was going to be as fun as it was danderous.
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Mark had no idea what he was thinking when he asked to be transferred to this city. It couldn’t be that bad, its just another city, no matter how bad the reputation of the people living here they were just that in the end, people, not monsters or animals, people. He was so naïve. Th city lured people with its shiny façade and sent them down its abyss of madness. It was multiple layers of filth covered in something that looked like hope, everyone in this city was mad to an extent, and he probably was too for thinking he could make a difference here. He couldn’t even fathom the amount of lives this city had taken today alone from the gangs and smugglers that filled its port, the mafias that filled the city, the politicians and police man that aided them and mad men like the famous bloodletter and probably john Meyers.
Mark sighed as he walked into the building’s reception. He strode confidently to the receptionist, placed his badge on the table much to the receptionist’s shock “I’m detective mark Henshaw ill like to speak with mister Gabriel jones” he spoke in his detective voice. “yes sir, right away sir” the woman at the desk stammered. If there was one thing mark liked about this city it would be how people reacted when they saw a police officer, he would never say it out loud but it boosted his ego.
Mark followed the woman into an elevator and after arriving at the third floor she guided him to an office where he saw a man facing the window, probably enjoying the view while he made a phone call “ill pay you Ezekiel, when have I ever backed out of a deal” the man laughed as he spoke.
Mark didn’t wait for the man to notice him before taking his seat and crossing his legs patiently waiting for the phone call to come to an end. The receptionist left the room practically running but mark wasn’t sure if she was running from him or Gabriel. A minute later Gabriel turned around haven ended his conversation, he appeared shocked to see mark Mark before gathering himself, seating behind his desk grabbing a cigarette and giving mark a charming smile. “smoke?” Gabriel asked “no” mark responded in his patented detective voice. “your lost mate. Its quite a good smoke” the man said “now who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my office” he said while lighting his cigarette, never taking his eyes of mark. Mark reached into his pocket and grabbed his badge placing it on the desk and pushing it towards Gabriel. “would you also like to see the warrant mister jones” he asked as calmly as possible. “what do you want” Gabriel asked looking irritated “we have reason to believe you were a party in the murder of daphne Meyers” mark said “daph?” He asked confused “I spoke to her yesterday, is this some kind of joke?” “what was your relationship with Mrs. Meyers” mark asked genuinely curious “we were friends, are friends” the man said not accepting her death “were you also friends with her husband john who worked here until yesterday” mark asked pressing on “GET OUT!!” Gabriel shouted his cigarette falling out of his mouth in his anger.
Mark calmly stood up grabbing his badge of the table along with a cigarette which he proceeded to light with his lighter, Gabriel stood up his face red with anger but before he could shout again mark spoke up “the police would be in touch mister jones” he said walking away only to stop at the door and turn back to Gabriel “have a wonderful day” he said before walking out of the room
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Fred guided his last customer for today to his seat. His job wasn’t exactly fulfilling but he found more pleasure in being a barber than others did. The feeling of holding a blade to a man’s throat while the fool failed to realize just how close to death he actually was. It was enough for him to get through the day, although sometimes he considered just actually doing it, the look of shock would be incredible as the fool chocked on his own blood. However, Fred wasn’t stupid he saved those kinds of actions for his nightly adventures. Those where his real passion, Fred never wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer as a child, that always seemed like too much hard work although he surely had the intellect if his teachers were to be believed. He could have easily been an athlete if he wanted to, but once again too much work. Fred was perfect in everyway, it was why his his father hated him ‘all that potential, and you still live in my house’ his father would say every morning but Fred didn’t care he never did. He only ever wanted to enjoy his life gaze at people who thought they were his equals slowly realize they weren’t, although without any hard work.
Fred found his way when he was eleven, a dog had barked at him thinking he was beneath it and Fred had waited till when it fell asleep, he placed a kitchen knife at it’s throat and slit it. The dog woke up and he saw it. It’s eyes has it died it realized it was the one beneath Fred. Now Fred does the same thing in this city full of dogs. And the best part was he did it with the same pair of scissors he used to cut hair during the day. The same one he was currently using to cut a man’s hair, trimming just a little as he combed. “there, all done” Fred said with his usual smile as he gave the police detective his usual trim.
“thanks Fred” said the clueless man.
“Anytime Philip” Fred said “see you next week” he said guiding mulligan to the door. The detective smiled at Fred before leaving. Fred found it impressive how a man who was already balding could care so much about his hair, the detective came at the same time every week even if the city was burning Fred was certain mulligan would be here.
Fred proceeded to pack up not forgetting his lucky scissors he said goodnight to the other barbers before leaving. Fred stepped out of the barber shop an enigma his blond hair combed neatly as he walked back home he was probably the only barber in the world that went to work in a suit. His combs, gels, blade and scissors all packed in his briefcase. If one didn’t know they would assume he had a more important job and in many ways he did.
He wondered who he was going to play with today “keep it spontaneous Fred” he said to himself, reminding himself to leave his next victim to random unlucky coincidence. Mulligan was on his trail and while the city’s best detective was clueless while he got a trim, Fred knew he was skilled at finding elaborate plans.
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Mulligan walked through the prison corridor guided by a guide to the visiting room. He held a file folder in his hand as he hummed following the guard. He felt as cheerful as he always did after his weekly cut, his barber Fred had a way of working miracles making him look and feel twenty years younger after every cut. There was a reason he the most expensive barber at the saloon and Philip couldn’t help but admire the young man’s talents.
He entered the visiting room and sat in front of the reinforced glass panel and grabbed his only means of communicating with the man on the other side. A man who committed a double homicide five years back and was now facing a life sentence. Mulligan was the one to catch him back then. In a city full of all kinds of crime and criminals with secrets around every corner and mysteries up every alley like this one, mulligan didn’t find the case all to strange at least until now. “how are you doing Phillip ?” the man asked in a cheerful tone. “well my back hurts like hell and I’m going crazy over a case but otherwise I’m fine Eugene” “what kind of case would give the greatest detective in this city trouble, is it the famous bloodletter I’m curios to meet him when you catch him though” the bloodletter a serial killer that appeared two years ago he filled his victims with precise cuts and let them bleed to death slowly. Mulligan had been after him for a while and Eugene knew about it even though Philip could never understand how a man in prison was so much in the loop of information. “when it comes to information sometimes you are the one in a prison Philip” the man said as if he knew what was in Philip’s mind. Once the district attorney of this city, now he was just another convict. “it’s about the knife from five years ago, the on you killed Samuel crane with” Eugene seemed to freeze at the mention of the knife. He studied mulligan as if contemplating a million things at once, his eyes flashing with all sorts of emotions. Mulligan leaned closer to the glass plane “I need to know eugene” he said “please” the detective added Eugene smilled and laughed “well I guess it took sherlock holmes five years to notice” he said before continuing “if you find widowmaker” he stopped as if to prepare himself for what he was about to say “destroy it at all cost” eugene said before he stood up and walked away not even glancing at the detective. Phillip had noticed a bit of fear in the man’s eyes when he talked about the knife. He had never seen Eugene scared before, It seemed he needed to have a talk with Eugene some other time but until then he had to contact the chief.
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