Friday flash – Strange Death
This is another piece from the archives. I found this short story while looking for something else and thought I might rework it into a little #fridayflash piece. I hope you like it.
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Strange Death
‘Remind me again why I don’t have a quiet office job,’ said Detective Hardy.
The constable beside him laughed, a short, bitter sound. He squinted up into the rain falling from the black, menacing sky then looked back down at the corpse lying in the alley. Watery blood ran from numerous gaping wounds, reflecting the streetlight. ‘The glamour?’
Hardy echoed the constables humourless laugh. ‘So let’s see. Male caucasian, around twenty-five, fit looking. Multiple lacerations and bite marks. Throat torn out. Discovered by a wino. That cover it?’
The constable nodded. ‘The wino was in quite a state, shouting about a monster eating someone.’
Hardy raised an eyebrow, glancing to the end of the alley where the constable’s car was parked. The constable’s partner stood there with a bedraggled old man. The old man had his back to the alley, his shoulders visibly trembling. ‘He saw the attack?’
‘So he says. He turned into the alley and saw the monster. He screamed, the monster ran, he ran too. He found us right outside the alley. Those are some pretty massive bite marks.’ The constable sounded almost impressed.
Hardy nodded.
‘Even an German Shepherd wouldn’t have a mouth that big.’
Hardy sighed. ‘Well, let’s ask him some questions.’
As they walked Hardy looked at the constable. There was a broad cut down his right cheek, still leaking blood. The rain washed the blood pink over his collar. ‘What happened to you?’ Hardy asked, trying to light a cigarette without it getting wet.
The constable raised one hand to stroke the wound. He smiled at Hardy. ‘A little fracas earlier on. Nothing serious.’
Hardy shrugged. He let it go as they reached the constable’s partner and the trembling wino, terror still evident in the old man’s eyes. ‘Can you tell me exactly what you saw?’ he asked. He drew deeply on his cigarette.
‘I d-don’t know,’ the old man replied, his voice gravelly from years of drinking and smoking whatever he could find. He looked nervously at the constable. ‘I heard this growling and crunching and saw this beast! I screamed like a girl the second I saw it and… I musta made it jump, cuz it just bolted.’ He looked at the constable again, fear bright in his eyes.
Hardy glanced at the constable, who grinned at him. ‘What do you mean by beast?’ Hardy asked the wino.
The old man raised both hands. ‘Like a giant dog or a wolf, only it stood on two legs like a man.’
‘Sounds like a werewolf,’ the constable said with a smile. His partner chuckled quietly. The wino whimpered.
Hardy laughed. ‘A werewolf!’
The constable looked at him sharply. ‘You don’t believe in werewolves?’
‘Certainly not!’
‘So what else could have made bite marks that big?’
Hardy shrugged. ‘I have no idea, but it wasn’t a werewolf!’
The constable smiled, a disturbing twist to one side of his mouth. Hardy stared at him for a moment, then looked to his partner. The constable’s partner smiled softly and shrugged. He had dark eyes that glittered in the low light. ‘Did you call the homicide team?’ Hardy asked.
The beep of a car horn prevented the need for any answer as two more cars pulled up. Hardy went and spoke to the men that climbed from the cars, grimacing at the rain. He pointed down the alley. The men nodded. Hardy returned to the constables and their charge. ‘You better take him in.’
‘I don’t wanna go!’ the wino said quickly, eyes wild. His hands started trembling violently.
Hardy smiled. ‘Standard procedure. We got to get a proper statement from you.’
The constable squeezed the wino’s shoulder. ‘We’ll take good care of you.’ His smile was broad as he opened the back door of his car and helped the old man in. He and his partner got in the front and they drove slowly away. The old wino looked back as they went, his ashen face bright in the dark frame of the rear screen. Hardy ground out his cigarette in a puddle as he watched them go.
A homicide photographer paused as he passed Hardy. ‘Who were those two uniforms?’ he asked, gesturing after the car.
Hardy shrugged. ‘No idea. I’m on temp assignment in this district.’
The photographer stared after them. As they disappeared from sight he said, ‘I don’t recognise them.’ He set the flash on his camera and strolled on, leaving Hardy alone in the pouring rain. Hardy chuckled to himself as he walked to the street, using an unusually long fingernail to pick a small wad of red flesh from between his teeth.
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Maybe it’s because I was woken up by excessive snoring (not my own I hasten to add) at 03:30, but I confess to being a little confused as to the constables… or am I confused about Hardy?
Hmm. Methinks you may well have got your revenge for my bear story
There’s a werewolf theme going on this week! Never trust a temp, I say
Mazzz – Mwahaha!
Lily – Really? I’ve yet to catch up on other stories. Must be something in the air.
Strange death? Perhaps it should be called Strange life…
Neato. Nice twist at the end. If it was missing one thing, it would be a dirigible. Not enough balloons-like vehicles in stories these days (my apologies for the non-sequitur). Nice one!
Rosa – Maybe it should!
Gary – Dirigibles for future stories? Noted.
Well here you have me nodding at my clever deduction that the constable is the beast then the ending leaves me open mouthed.
Image of wad of red flesh stuck in teeth was very vivid. I don’t think I want breakfast now…heh.
I was expecting one werewolf, not a gang of them. Well done.
Yeah, I was thrown off too but the easy manner and the red gash on the constable. Hardy was not in my scopes at all. Nice way to throw us off the scent!
Ahhh! They’ve infiltrated the Detectives. And the Constabulary, evidently. Quick, call the Fire Department. No, they’ve probably turned too!
Sort of The Werewolf meets The Body Snatchers. Who the hell can we trust?
Poor wino.
~jon
Thanks for the comments all. Glad you couldn’t keep the scent. Also glad that someone was thinking of the poor old man.
Nice piece of misdirection. I feel sorry for the wino as well. He knows that it will be his last ride. As with Marisa, I’m suddenly not hungry for breakfast either.
The image of the poor wino’s face is haunting. As if picking out a chunk of meat (*shudder*) isn’t bad enough, you have him doing it with a long fingernail. EWW.
Nice and gross. Heh.
Lengthy passage with a powerful punchline. Very dark and good. I love evil.
Excellent job. The atmosphere you created is great. Like everyone else I was thrown off the trail.
Marisa, Laura, netta, Carrie – I was told that I was a bit too mushy and soft hearted in last week’s piece and I needed to bring the gross and evil back. Mission accomplished.
Chris – Thanks.
[grins at you] Not soft and mushy this week
Alan, mission accomplished. I did wait til the sun came up to read it, but not sure it helped.
Very well done.
Rep restored.
hats off to the chunk of meat in the teeth.
ewwwww
:0)
Brilliant. Well put together and had me on the wrong track all the way to the end.
Excellent story.
Nice twist there. Excellent story!
Karen, Leigh, Eric – many thanks. It’s nice when a bit of misdirection works.
ooo, a gang of werewolves? Now that is terrifying! Very entertaining flash (creeped me out a bit with the meat in his teeth, but that’s not a bad thing)
Thanks Shannon.