Year of the Worm: Detective’s Notebook #1



Gotta call last night around 3 am about a noise complaint. Couldn’t understand why Jones called me about it. We’re  detectives, major crimes, not  flat-foots. But she insisted, so I gotta outta bed, still nursing a heady buzz thanks to a few  pints of Guinness for dinner, and got down there.

The scene was at an old warehouse down by the river, not too far from the barrio. I figured it was some gang bangers. But I was wrong, damn wrong. The interior of the warehouse looked like a slaughter house. Thick with the hot stench of blood and piss. Cat piss, to be precise. You see some sick son of a bitch had killed damn near a dozen cats.

Okay, killed is a bit too casual of a term. More like systematical slaughtered them. Each one was cut up like a butcher had done it. The heads and legs were gone, God only knows what happened to them,  and the skinned carcasses had been gutted and arranged in a crude circle. Their entrails had been pulled out and arranged into a weirdly shaped  star-like symbol in the middle of the circle.

The worm-rotted floor of the place was slick with the cats’ blood and a putrid pile of their hides sat in the far corner in a haphazard state as if someone had mindlessly tossed them over there like pieces of trash.

Strangest of all was the symbol on the wall that was scrawled in the cats’ blood. It looked like some kinda eye and had these weird squiggly lines around it, almost like worms or tentacles. Someone had written ‘He Awaits’ below it.

What the hell does that mean?

At first I figured it was some shit some junkies did while strung out on meth or whatever new junk was making the rounds on the street. But there was too much thought involved in this all. Someone had planned this shit out, it wasn’t some junkie’s frenzied act.

That didn’t really ease my mind, the last thing this city needed was some sorta serial killer on the loose. We had enough trouble with the gangs and the garden variety rapists.

Jones says CSI is still going over the evidence. I talked to the flat-foots’ who first arrived at the scene. Rookies who looked scared shitless, but one of them told me they’d seen graffiti around the ‘hood in the past few weeks like the one on the wall. Said it was spray painted in the usual spots, and didn’t think nothing of it. But on Christmas Eve someone had scrawled it on the front doors of  St. Michael’s Cathedral. No one had seen nothing, and the church ain’t got no security camera.

I tried taking some photos of the scene on my phone for my own records, but funny thing is they all came out blurry. Even Jones said her phone was on the fritz. I’m sure the boys in CSI will have better ones. I did some sketches myself, guess it’s better than nothing for now.

But what really bugs me is who would do this, and better yet – why?





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