Thursday, July 6, 2006, Mount Vernon, Virginia.
Black leather seats in a black vehicle were not a good idea given this kind of heat. Though, the air conditioned seats and recyclable air helped. It wasn’t the smell of morning dew that met him as he stepped out of his Navigator and into the haze filled air.
“I should’ve never listened to that damned car salesman. It’s only a quarter after seven for Christ’s sake,” he muttered.
A warm breeze carried the thick smell of death across the Potomac to meet him. He took a handkerchief to his brow and wiped the sweat away then held it to his nose to cover the stench. Lukas Marks made his way toward the riverbank. His steel gray eyes roamed his surroundings. A nerve pulsed at the base of his neck. It tugged tight like a needle on thread. Utter chaos and the day had just started, he thought. A woman wearing snug pink running shorts and matching tank top sobbed uncontrollably nearby. Stroking her flaxen hair, the man with her tried his best to comfort her while maintaining a tight grip on the raging German Shepard. The two uniformed cops that were first on the scene were still in the process of losing their lunch.
“Great. The day’s getting better already.”
A sigh escaped from deep within his chest. He hated dealing with emotional crap and this was going to be one of those fucking days. He just wanted to do his job, find the perpetrator and go on to the next case. His head throbbed in anticipation of the coming shit storm this case was guaranteed to include.
He motioned for a uniformed officer but Detective Mike Rivera’s bright red face was the first to greet him. His eyes were as black and as dilated as pools of crude oil. Rivera’s massive hand encircled Lukas’. His wooly eyebrows rose inquisitively. Any other man might’ve flinched at the strength in the hand shake but Luke’s eyes showed no sign that there was any amount of discomfort.
“Well, Mike what have we got?”
“Hey Luke,” he sighed. “Looks like we’ve got another one.”
The nose plugs he wore to dull the smell would’ve looked funny if the situation weren’t so damned serious thought Lukas.
He looked like an angry bull. A faint smile crossed Lukas’ lips as the thought if he flares his nostrils anymore duck. He might just put someone’s eye out, he thought.
“Same MO?” asked Luke as he drew his hand back.
“Yeah and Jesus, it’s bad. I thought the last one was rough but this, I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m not certain. I mean Jesus Fucking Christ. You can’t tell what’s what but I think it’s her. It looks like some kind of animal got hold of her,” he said as he rubbed his hands over blood shot eyes.
“Well, we won’t know for sure until the ME gets here. Did anyone bother to call CSI and could somebody shut that fucking
dog up?” barked Lukas to no one in particular.
He wiped his palms dry with his handkerchief before slipping latex gloves on. He hated wearing the damn things in this heat.
One of the sweat-laden young officers perked up and nodded toward Lukas. Lukas wiped his face and plastered on his best professional smile before making his way toward the distraught couple. He hadn’t meant to sound so terse but it was early. Exhaustion still lay buried in his chest and now he’d have to endure the dreaded forlorn look he was sure to receive from the deceased’s child’s family followed by the heightened press and the weight of upper brass on his back. This perp had killed five little girls in as many months.
“Dr. Johnson’s team is on their way. In the meantime, I took the liberty of getting a statement from the couple who found her. Neither of the witnesses saw anyone or anything. They came across the remains while jogging with their dog. I don’t think anyone could miss that smell though.”
A pine tree branch snapped back at Lukas hitting him in the face as he made his way beyond the yellow tape. He looked with the eyes of a man who’d seen far too much death. Though disturbing, it just was not as hard to look at anymore. The smell would’ve been horrendous even for the nose of a normal man but it was the sight that made his stomach churn.
The milk-coated glass stare of four year old Rebecca Chambers still dressed in her pink Sleeping Beauty nightgown looked up at him. Only the poor kid wasn’t even human anymore. Not corporeal, but a mound of tattered pale flesh and broken bones. Her neck was splayed open. No, not splayed, he thought as he bent down and took a ballpoint pen out of his pocket. The sound of congealed flesh sloshing against the pen made his stomach tighten.
“Sorry kid,” he murmured.
Sometimes the fairy tale monsters were all too real. Of that he was certain. He knew because he was one, a full-fledged werewolf, born and bred. It had all the makings of a newly made wolf but something was very off. Something smelled different this killer. He couldn’t place his finger on it but for now, he’d treat it like any other rogue wolf. He’d hunt him and kill him. He had to protect the sanctity of the pack. His alpha would demand it. But for now, he had to treat it like every other human crime until he found the sick fuck that was doing this and put him down. His kind had to stay under the radar. We wouldn’t want to scare the poor skin walkers now would we? Humans were never able to except that their might be true monsters walking amongst them and yet, it’s funny how quick they are to think the worst of themselves. Though, he’s seen his share of what an actual human monster could do. Still, they had nothing on his kind. If a wolf had a deceased mind, there was no stopping him. A true wolf doesn’t hunt humans, not like this at least and not innocents.
Copyrighted by Elizabeth Johnson November 3, 2007
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