An office. Lighted. Somewhat organized—but way better than what the outside could manage. A woman, cloaked in fine linen, a beige split coat with a lazily hanging lanyard chain.
She was hunched over in her desk, sleeping. slobbering over the table. Coffee that cost too much spilled on the floor with regret that would take place after she woke.A telephone rung. Hard, screechy. The kind that would make you want to permanently shut off your ears. She instantly woke up. The feeling of saliva slowly drifting down her lip made a sleeve rub against it. It's now stained.
She picked up the phone, half awake, she picked up the phone. "Detective J-Joanna Mercer here…" her head almost banged on the desk as she fell asleep upwards.
The speaker on the phone sounded hurried. Rushed. Like something they've never seen before just appeared before their eyes. "T-there's a man! H-he's lying dead!"
"Uh-huh." Joanna commented. Pinched the bridge of her nose. Uncaring. She went through this too many times. Desensitized to it all. "Can you describe the look of the man? And the address?"
"He's…blonde? He has a corporate suit on…and he's white." The sound of walking was pierced through the phone. "It's at the alley next to RedCold Motel."
"Thanks for your time. We'll be there shortly. We advise for you to leave the premises." Joanna made a mocking gesture with her hands. Clearly annoyed by her job, but there's no other options.
The telephone rang up abruptly. Nobody in the room cared. A man playing a game of online checkers on the supposed 'working' computer, which was turned into a personal gaming station.
A woman in a suit, hair tied into a bun, pale snow skin, blue eyes, sitting with one legged crossed over the other on a low ground cabinet. She waved, gesturing to Joanna. "Hey girl! Anything new?"
Joanna sighed. Her warm umber skin a stark contrast to the woman in-front of her. "Some guy is dead in the alley next to RedCold. There's other stations besides this one you know." She snarky replied, clearly talking to herself in the last words of that sentence. She turned her head, which was already placed back on the desk. "Hey. Tola, do you think this has something to do with the…nevermind."
Tola lowered her head, still trying to keep a smile like she always does, but she just rested her palm on her chin, eyes lazily wandering around the room.
"I know what you mean. I don't think so. Nevertheless, we have to go check it out."
"Cops get ridiculed for being…cops now, Tola. I don't want to get clowned." Joanna added. She took a pen that was in a cup, clicking it against the table, flipping it around its axis every few seconds like it couldn't sit still."We gotta go now."
"Fine."
The police cruiser screeched to a stop. Tires slid slightly on the slick street. The alley was roped in a half-circle of yellow tape, fluttering like cheap confetti under the weight of neon rain.
Joanna stepped out, her boot slapping a puddle that rippled like it recognized her. Tola followed, heels clacking, umbrella already unfolded like a damn fashion magazine cover.
"Another murder," Joanna muttered. "Another night. Another kid who thinks the system's a joke."Tola just gave her a tired nod, eyes scanning the outline of the scene. Her expression didn't break, not even when the body came into view.A young man in a suit. Neck twisted at an inhuman angle. Blood drained from multiple wounds—stabbed, crushed, maybe both. On top of his chest, soaked and wrinkled, was a note. One word, scrawled violently:EXECUTED."Joanna!"A rookie stumbled behind the dumpster, face pale as plaster, vomiting up street food and half his dignity. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, shaking. "I– I wasn't ready for that…"Joanna stared at him."No one is," she said flatly. "You think the badge makes you immune? Grow up.""Let him breathe," Tola whispered. "He's still green.""Then maybe this city's gonna eat him before breakfast." Joanna turned to the forensic tech nearby. "Where's the witness?"
"No eyes on the killer," the tech replied. "Just someone who found the body about thirty minutes ago. He ran off before patrol even showed."
"Figures." Joanna crouched near the corpse, her eyes flicking between the twisted limbs, the busted microwave, and the scorch mark near the victim's feet."Wait." She pointed. "Look at the residue around the flash area. Something triggered it from chest height. Like a light trap."She took a second glance at the microwave, blood. Dried, not much use to dna samples––not like they could anyways.
"Tape this place up. Make sure you don't use all of it." Joanna commanded, pointing towards a forensics officer.
Back at the office, Joanna sat in a chair, glaring at a wall with evidence plastered all over it. Rocking back and forth in her chair like an over-caffeinated child, she placed the pen she usually uses in her mouth, nibbling on it while she deep thinks on this unfortunate case, which nobody cared enough to look for the man who did it.
"Hey. Tola." She muttered. Her face grimaced as she pointed towards the far left of the bulletin board.
It showed a face, Charcoal black hair with faint streaks of gunmetal gray. Not dyed, just stress––messed, but fell over on his left his eye, shaved slightly.His face showed half sleepless, half determined. One hand covering his face like he knew the camera would stare bullets at him. Fingerless gloves, black, dirty, bloodied.
A long-tattered coat that looks like it has seen more traumatizing things than it could be in. "We don't know what his face looks like." Tola commented. Her posture upright, her chin resting on her knuckles while the other free fingers lay on her lips.
Joanna turned, spinning her chair with an exhausted sigh. "I don't even know why we look for these people. Can't they just die to something else?" Her face lowered. Hope ran from her, like she was stuck in nothing different for the rest of her life. She looked towards the window, flickering neon of a distant store, already getting robbed––washed across her eyes.A picture fell off the table as wind blew it off. Tola immediately picked it up. Her eyes widening as silence filled the room. Joanna glanced toward her, head tilted, not in confusion, but like 'hurry up'."Anything wrong?"
Rain leaked through the windows, lightning cracked and croaked. A flash of light swept across Tolas face. She dropped the picture, it zipped through the air as she ran towards the stairs, her green hair flailing wildly in the wind.
"I-I have to go. Phone call." Joanna knew this was a lie. Tola covered her face with her sleeve as she tried to mask her tears. Gone. It's only Joanna here now. The rushed footsteps slowly dissipated to nothing. She lifted herself off the chair, it bounced once, and skidded away. Picked up the picture. A family photo—Tola, her mom, dad, and brother. But his face was scurried. It looked like someone dumped all their hate and bottled issues into scratching it.
"Well that's bullshit." She mumbled. Joanna's breath caught it her throat before she could speak again, a single drop of sweat slid down her forehead. "Didn't her brother…rap—how, no, why does she still have this?" She dropped it like touching something nasty. "The fuck?" She looked around, glancing around the room, looking for answers. Who did this? Why did they do this? Her hands twitched. Mouth open. She ran to the stairs, before she laid her foot on the first step, she cried down in a desperate scream. "TOLA! WHERE ARE YOU?" Silence.
She jumped down, skipping six stairs as she pulled her wall towards her, revealing the lobby sitting in her vision like it was teasing her. "Damnit…" Tola sat, back hunched over. Flipping an old, vintage coin that her brother gave her as a gift. "He said it was a 'present' or something. But he wanted something in return."
Joanna extended her hand, preparing to speak, but cut off before her mouth could speak for her. "I didn't know what he wanted. I didn't know the worth of what I had." She looked at the ceiling, sighing. Clear that she didn't see Joanna, as she was mumbling to herself. The woman—Joanna, looked at the receptionist desk. The man behind it had his phone out, his woman masturbating alongside him. Completely uncaring .Her fists clenched, not towards the man, but because it felt like God made her remember something she promised Joanna to be locked forever. Tola left. It wasn't good to go outside at night. Especially since nobody would help if you got killed, raped, or anything else—which is already being done. Her heels clicked against the tile, a silent reminder of that nothing can protect you from yourself. Joanna calmed. Turned off the light upstairs with an echoing click, and placed her fore-arm on the reception desk. Didn't look away from the man. Dead in the eyes. "You didn't see her?" She muttered."Ahhh! W-wait a minute Joanna, almost finished." Shameless. But that's how it goes. She chuckles—reminiscing on the 'adventures' when the receptionist found himself a girlfriend. But here's the thing, he doesn't have any of the qualities to be anything of a good boyfriend, besides having a kind heart—which was left in the past along with his love for life.
He finishes. Zips his pants with a relieved sigh. "What is it?" He asks. "Were you not looking at Tola? Did you not see—"
She was cut off as he laid his hand infront of her face—the one he just used to do…that. "Ah ah, I did. But I didn't know why she was so sad. Have any idea why?" She immediately slapped his hand out of her vision. "Fucking gross man."
"Sorry."
"She found a picture of her brother. The cleaning crew ALWAYS cleans the upstairs. No matter if they're sick or not. So why is that there? She's already scarred enough, Aiwerc."
That sentence hit him like a freight train. Silence. Only for a few seconds. His hands twitched. He leaned closer. Placed his cleaner hand on his face in a whispering gesture. "You need to leave. Now." "What do you mean?" Aiwerc pushes her out the way, pointing violently at the door. "Don't clock in tomorrow. Just support Tola. I'll handle it."
"But wh—"
"Just shut up and leave. I'm going too."