Wednesday, June 15, 2011

The Secret of the Desert

“Are you sure this is the right place?” said renowned private investigator, Blanche Carter.
“Yeah, it says so right here…Room 113, Isis Hotel” her assistant Bruce said, waving a paper at her.
“Alright, I believe you, let’s stop wasting day-light and find out why we’re here.”
Together they went inside the rather nice hotel. Its furnishings, while not exactly fancy, were new and contemporary. It looked like an average hotel, that is, except for the large painting above the front desk.
“What in the world...” started Blanche after seeing the artistic monstrosity, a confused look crossing her face.
“It looks like an ancient sword fight between two creepy things?”
“You know Bruce, sometimes I wonder why I hired you…It’s the battle between the ancient Egyptian gods Set and Osiris. The story goes that Set, the evil god of chaos, hacked his brother Osiris to bits and scattered the parts all over the desert.” Blanches said, casting Bruce a wary look.
Bruce shriveled his face in disgust. “They sure don’t teach you that in history class.”
Blanche rolled her eyes. “Well they should, but what I would like to know is why they have picture of that hanging on the wall in a hotel. Oh well, that’s not why we’re here. Off to room 113!”
They made their way to the front desk. A bored-looking man was reading a tabloid. He looked up when he heard them come closer and sighed.
“Welcome to Isis Hotel, can I help you?” he said in a heavy middle-eastern accent.
“Yes, I’m Detective Blanche Carter and this is my assistant Bruce Walker. We’re here to see a Mr. Ausar Massri in room 113. It’s important that we see him immediately.” She said, whipping out a detective badge.
“Who am I to stop you? It’s the last one down this hall.” The clerk said pointing to a well-light hall way.
The hall way seemed to go on forever but finally they reached 113. Blanche sensed something was wrong immediately, the door was cracked open.
“Man, I hope we’re not too late.” Blanche pulled her hand gun out as she opened the door silently.
Bruce got his weapon out as well and followed Blanche into the room.
The hotel room had been completely destroyed. Tables and dressers had been knocked over. Glass had been broken, the sheets ripped, pillows had spewed feathers, and blood dotted the carpet.
“Oh my heavens…Bruce, call the authorities while I secure the place.”
Bruce left wordlessly as Blanche continued to scan the place. She made her way into the bathroom. Compared to the bedroom, it was night and day. The bathroom was spotless. In fact, she noticed that it seemed no one had stayed her at all. The complimentary soap and shampoo were still in their containers and not even a tooth brush had been brought.
“I guess someone hadn’t stayed long. Either that or it was intentional.” She thought.
When she was satisfied that the place was vacant, she started analyzing the room.
“I can’t tell if this has been faked or if there really was a struggle. It’ll be hard to know for sure until that blood can be analyzed.”
A bang at the door put Blanche on her toes. She hesitated and then moved closer to the door. The door opened and in walked 4 FBI members.
“Secure the scene gentlemen!” the tallest, burliest one shouted, and then he turned to Blanche. “Who are you and what are you doing here?!” He stood so close to her that she could smell what he had eaten for lunch.
Blanche would not be intimidated; she looked him in the eye and said: “I am Blanche Carter, Detective. I was hired by Ausar Massri; the man I assume was our victim. It was my assistant who informed you of this misfortune. I’m afraid I was never able to me with my client; our appointment was for 5 minutes ago.”
The FBI agent immediately pulled himself up taller. Blanche was known all over the world for her detective skills. “Sorry, you know how it is, can’t be too trusting. Everyone’s a suspect…get my drift?” He said, eyeing Blanche.
Blanche was extremely attractive with her slim physique and tall stature. She had high cheekbones and startling blue eyes. Her hair, unlike the prediction of her name, was raven colored. It was pulled back in a tight bun, but you could still see that it was glossy and smooth. She was wearing a black form-fitting bomber jacket, dark washed skinny jeans, and black shiny boots. All together, she looked the very picture of a secret agent.
“Yes, I “get your drift”. Now leave me be so I can try and solve this case.”
The agent, though perhaps not the brightest, realized that he was receiving the cold shoulder and went off to examine a blood spot.
“Men” Blanche grumbled with a frustrated sigh.
Bruce sidled up alongside her; “You know boss, you can’t really blame him, women like you aren’t usually doing detective work.”
“Back to work Bruce”
His statement intrigued Blanche; in the 2 years that had worked together she had never analyzed Bruce. She looked over at him. He was still just a kid, not more than 25 years old. He had light brown hair, in sore need of a haircut, and hazel eyes. He was the boy next door, attractive in an innocent way.
“Alright, enough analyzing, time to solve what may be a murder.” She whispered to herself.
“Um, excuse me, Miss. Carter.”
Blanche looked up to see it was the FBI agent again.
“What?” she spit out.
“My team has found something…It seems to be, a human hand.”
Blanche paled but asked “Where?”
“I’ll take you to it. It was discovered under a bloody piece of rug; wrapped in a linen cloth.”
In a corner near the bathroom door was the huddle of agents. One saw them approaching and lifted up what he was holding: a human hand in a plastic evidence bag.
Blanche took the bag and examined the hand somewhat. “Gruesome, it looks like it’s been severed by a sharp object. It was most likely a crime of rage. The question is, where’s the rest of him? Send it to forensics; see if they can identify the victim. Let me know of the results as soon as possible. Aussar Massri could still be alive.”
While Blanche was gifted at detective work, she was not an expert at forensics. She let the squints do their job while she focused on catching the perpetrator.
When the room had been thoroughly searched, Blanche decided it was time to head out. Her first stop was to talk to Auset Massri, Aussar’s wife. The Massri home was 2 hours away in a suburban neighborhood. It was a large home, richly decorated.
Bruce rang the door bell, no one answered. He rang again, still nothing. “Well, it looks like no one’s home.”
Blanche peered in through the glass sides of the front door. “But the lights are all on and there’s a car in the drive way. Let’s just try the door, see if it’s open…”
She reached to turn the door knob, but unbeknownst to her it already was open. “I don’t like the look of this…” She said as she pulled out her hand gun. “Stay behind me Bruce.”
Inside, it was a mess, similar to Aussar’s room, glass was broken and there were scatterings of blood on the white carpet.
“God, please don’t let us be too late. Bruce, you check that side of the house. I’ll cover the kitchen and the back.”
Before she went any further, Blanche pulled out her cell phone and called the FBI.
“This Blanche Carter, I’m requesting back-up. We have another victim. I am over at the Massri home.”
Back-up was on its way so Blanche continued to search for possible evidence, anything to lead her to the possible killer.  
That’s when she saw it, a rather large puddle of blood by the edge of the carpet.
“Please don’t let this be what I think it is…” She said, lifting it up.
Underneath was a linen cloth, perhaps identical to the one found at the hotel. In the linen cloth, another human hand.
All of a sudden, the door bell rang.
Blanche startled “Who in the world could that be?”
She placed the hand down, grabbed her gun, and went to get the door. Blanche put the gun in her pocket, just in case it was merely a civilian. No one in the neighborhood need know yet a crime had possibly been committed here.
Bruce had heard the door as well and entered the same time as Blanche.
“What’s going on? Who’s at the door? I didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.”
“How should I know? Look through that window and see if you can spot the person at the door.”
“Alright, alright” Bruce did what he was told. “It looks like a middle-eastern lady.”
The door bell rang again. This time a woman’s voice accompanied it.
“Auset? Are you there?” The woman said.
Blanche carefully opened the door.
The woman looked puzzled. “Excuse me, who are you and why are you in my brother and sister-in-laws’ house?”
“I’m Detective Blanche Carter; this is my assistant Bruce Walker. I’m afraid we came here to talk to Auset Massri but we found the house in this disarray.” She said, showing the woman her badge.
“Are Auset and Aussar okay? My name is Anat, my husband Seth is Aussar’s brother. We live right next door.”
“We don’t know right now. I’m afraid I can’t discuss it with you either. They could be in grave danger though. Do you mind if we ask you some questions?”
“I don’t see why not, if you think it will help them.”
“Yes, the information you have may be vital. We need to wait until the FBI arrive, until then you may relax and try to think of something that may be of use.” Blanche said.
Blanche pulled Bruce aside. “I don’t like her. She was here too fast, she’s too nice. I don’t like this whole business with the hands. It’s repulsive and bloody. I just want to find Auset and Aussar, preferably alive.”
“Whoa Blanche, calm her down. I can understand what you mean. The hand thing is creeping me out too; just don’t lose your head. We need to be nice to Anat so that she will be nice to us. Maybe she can lead us to them. You suspect her, don’t let her catch on.”
“Thanks Bruce, I should know better than this. Why don’t we head over to Anat’s house and search for a potential weapon while we question her? If the criminal is prideful enough they hide it right out in the open.” Blanche was back to her old self, ready and raring to go.
After the FBI team arrived, Bruce and Blanche both approached Anat. Blanche was the first to speak: “Anat, do you mind if we question you at your house?”
Anat’s face paled for a second but she didn’t skip a beat. “No of course not, let’s go now.”
The trio walked next door to Anat’s large home. When they were in Blanche and Bruce were amazed at the vast collection of Egyptian art. The place was richly decorated Mediterranean style.
“Some place you got here huh?” Blanche said.
“Yes, yes, my husband likes to be reminded of his homeland.” Anat said. She moved towards the couch “Shall we sit down?”
The questioning was just about to begin when a man came through the front door. He seemed to be a very unpleasant man, though good-looking. He was also tall and muscular.
“Anat!” he shouted.
“Must be Seth” thought Blanche.
Anat shuddered; you could see she and her husband did not get along.
“I am in here, we have guests.”
This news, instead of making Seth hospitable, made him angrier. He stormed into the room.
“Who are you?” He demanded.
Blanche was not intimidated. “I am Blanche Carter; I am here with the FBI on the case of a possible double homicide. The victims could be your brother and sister-in-law. Now that I think about it…Do you mind if my partner and I have a look around?”
Seth became rather smug then. “Not at all…” He seemed to hiss like a snake. 
“Alright, we will then.”
Blanche and Bruce searched the mansion. They didn’t find anything too unusual, in fact the place looked barely lived in. When they reached the last room, Blanche was a little disappointed. Seth seemed like a good candidate for murder.
“I’m getting frustrated…” said Bruce, leaning up against the wall.
Suddenly, as if by magic, a door appeared and swung open in the wall.
“What in the world…Oh my gosh! It’s a secret room!” Bruce said.
“Bruce, stay out here and keep guard. I’m going in.”
She pulled out her gun and slowly went into the secret room. Before she went too far, she got out her phone and let the FBI know she needed back up.
A dark hallway led to a small dingy room. There were blood droplets on the floor.
“Lord, please don’t let me be too late.” She prayed.
There on the ground were two people, a man and a woman. She guessed it was Aussar and Auset. She went over slowly to them. When she reached them to knelt down and felt the man’s pulse. He was still alive, just bloody probably from his cut off hand. Any longer and he would have bled to death. She felt the woman’s pulse and she too was still alive. They were both unconscious. Both were missing their right hands.
The FBI came in like a storm, they apprehended Anat and Seth. Then they rescued Auset and Aussar, airlifting them to the nearest hospital. The paramedics said they were in critical condition but that they should survive.
“So it was the brother and sister-in-law after all? Crazy stuff, hidden rooms…” Bruce said.
“Two murders prevented because of you. Good work kid.” Blanche said to Bruce, nudging his shoulder.
“Thanks boss.” Bruce replied with a smile. 

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Alazay: Part 2

Tiny rain drops fell on Alazay’s long red hair. But she was in the middle of a nightmare and didn’t notice. One, two, three wet drops landed on her pale cheek. Her hand brushed them away as she groggily started breaking from her dream world. All of a sudden she awoke with a start. Her chest heaved up and down from her heavy breathing. It had happened again, that dream that haunted her every night. She didn’t remember it all of course but what she did came in sections. First she saw scientists or doctors in white coats. She saw herself in a white cell, she was crying. Then the next scene, this one was all flames. In her dream they licked at her but she felt no pain. The last scene was the most terrifying. It was a man, she knew him, maybe even loved him. At first he would be nice and would stroke her hair and sing to her. His song was sad but she couldn’t understand the words, they were either too soft or in another language. Then all of sudden it changes and the room turns dark, she hears someone scream and goose bumps form on her arms. She becomes very afraid and knows someone is watching her. Then she hears a voice “You rejected me and you will pay. You thought you could get rid of me well think again” in a low other-worldly voice.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Alazay Part 1

The wind blew, whistling like a tea kettle. The noise was unsettling to Alazay as she crept down the dark hallway. The old house creaked mournfully even under her slight weight. Cobwebs dotted the corners of the crumbling walls. Alazay thought she saw the miniscule eyes of a spider watching her. She tiptoed down the stairs, every creak and wheeze sounding like explosions in the night.
"Wind, oh wind, why must you howl so?" she whispered. Her hand reached the front door knob. Suddenly she felt an icy hand upon her shoulder. She froze as a chilling shiver ran through her body.
"You can't leave" a voice whispered, but the hand released.
Alazay mustered up every ounce of courage she contained. She turned around slowly. Through the moonlight she could make out the pale face of a young boy. He was taller than she and quite skinny. She quessed he could not be more than 16 years old.
The boy spoke:
"I'm sorry if I scared you. You can't leave me here. Please, take me with you."
"I didn't know there were others; how did you get here?"
"Bad luck?"
"Alright, I don't have time for this...let's go."
She opened the door and they walked outside. The wind tore at her dress and once again she felt a shiver. She remembered when she had first been brought to this ghostly old house.
They had found her huddled in an alley way in the city. She had been making a small fire in a trash can and so hadn't seen them coming. They knew things about her, knew she had powers. She tried to fight them off when they attacked her but there had been too many. First she had been brought to a clinical testing center. The memories of that place were painful to remember. Then when they were finished she was sent off to this delapadated house, she supposed for "safe keeping".
"You okay? We'd better go, they might come looking for us" said the boy.
His words broke her trance. She shook her head.
"Yes, I'm fine. Come, I know where to go."
She knew of a cave where they could spend the night. From that cave, where they would go, she did not know. They crept through the dark woods, finally reaching the cave after about 3 hours. She knew there was an actual city somewhere south, maybe 3 miles...

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Murder on the grand piano

Vivian had always known she would be a star someday. The glitz and glamor, the adoration from millions of fans. The only problem was there were others who were more talented one was that wretched man Van Stade. He shouldn't have been a talented man. He was incredibly ugly and came from a low class family. He also was wicked, Vivian suspected him of theft and shady dealings. Everytime he looked at her she grew afraid. His eyes were shifty and his face dark and mysterious. He shouldn't have the glory it should be her!





Vivian Fletchett was not only jealous though she had a reason. Vivian had recently composed a short symphony, it was beautiful and those who heard it were moved with emotion. Her best work and her agent said it could further her career, she could be famous! Before she could have it published though it had been stolen right underneath her nose.





The day of the concert she heard her symphony being played. Startled, she looked to see who it was. It was none other than Gilbert Van Stade! Enraged she ran from the room and started to produce some dastardly plans.



(Now it had been said that Vivian Fletchett was not entirely sane, these next moments may prove the fact.)



She had pulled out the Batrachotoxin, which is a type of poison. Just then her husband Samuel walked in the room. "What? Vivian what are you doing?!" For it had been him who had bought the poison. He himself was fascinated with animals, especially amphibeans. "I'm ending Gibert Van Stade once and for all!" she said, her face revealing her madness. "But, dear! Think of the consquences. Surely you would not do such a wicked thing!" he whispered as he pulled her into her dressing room. Samuel Fletchett was always concerned with his image, always wanting a certain image. Surely this was not a conversation he should be having in public!





"Tell me, Vivian what has driven you to think so abomindably!" he took by the shoulders strongly. "He has stolen my spymphony!" she screamed her eyes filled with rage and unbridled hate. "You can't just kill someone so boldly though! It must be discreet, a crime no one will ever discover." said Samuel as he put up his hand and asked to think. He had never liked that Gilbert Van Stade either but was he willing to risk his neck and perform a murder with his practically insane wife? Samuel had a great mind though and tried to think of a way that not only be sneaky but could go undetected. He decided to use the Batrachotoxin.



"Vivian, listen now. I will tell you what you must do." he said assured that he had thought of the perfect murder.



"When Van Stade is done practicing you must go. Put the poison upon the exact keys he will play. This is a special poison which will evaporate in time. Van Stade will consume the poison and no one will ever be able to find the traces."



Vivian did what she was told and when it was time for the concert to begin she had composed herself and was looking as beautiful as ever. When Gibert Van Stade was found dead after performing she could barely keep her face in a state of mourning. She had finally done it. She had killed Gilbert Van Stade.





Samuel rushed tp find his wife, she was the only weak link in this mastermind plan. "Confound that woman!" he thought for he couldn't see her anywhere. Vivian was in the kitchen. She had remembered that she had not gotten rid of all the poison. There wasn't much left just a drop or two... "I know! I'll just slip some in the flour. Sam'll just bring it home. I'll warn him first so he doesn't eat it, but the police'll never look there!" (You see, not only was Vivian short a few marbles she always wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. ;)






"Vivian! What in blue blazes are you doing?!" said Samuel as he caught his wife in the kitchen. "Do you not understand what we have just done?! How can you be hungry?" He said his face red from emotion. "Oh you know dear. It's all worked out. I will become the greatest pianist there ever was." said she her voice calm and somewhat dreamy. "Come Vivian we must leave." you could sense the finality in his voice. Vivian grabbed his outstretched arm and they departed from the kitchen.






"Excuse me officer but we must be going. My wife is ill from the events partaken of tonight." said Samuel Fletchett. "Alright sir." said the all too trusting police officer.



When they were seated in the car Samuel spoke first. "Now listen I have reserved us tickets to leave tommorow morning at 9am for Switzerland. You are not to speak to ANYONE until then. Do you understand?"



"Well yes, Sammy." said Vivian soft as a child after he had been reprimanded. They arrived home and started to get ready for bed when there was a knock at the door. Both Fletchetts jumped. "I'll get it yu stay here and don't say a word." his eyes glared at her. Samuel answered the door to find two police officers standing there.



"Samuel and Vivian Fletcher the gig is up. You are hereby charged with the murder of Gilbert Van Stade." said the officer with blonde hair obviously the older of the two.



"Officers I'm afraid you must be joking my wife and I have done nothing of the sort." said Samuel his voice steady.



"I'm afraid not.We have a surmountable amount of evidence against both you and your wife." said the brown haired one.



"Well maybe it wasn't the perfect murder after all." he thought. "Vivian call our lawyer."

Monday, January 17, 2011

sléibhe part 1

Bill and Maureen gazed out the window at the vast gray mountains before them. A tear rolled down Maureen's cheek as she saw a carriage drive away.She knew that inside the carriage was her mother. Soldiers had come and taken her mother by force into their carriage.Bill and Maureen's mother had saw them coming and made sure her children were hidden in the attic. Their mother had bravely let herself be taken by the soldiers.Bill put his arm around his frail12-year old sister. Bill was 14, almost a man. "Don't cry Maureen, we'll get her back..."
To Be Continued...

Saturday, January 8, 2011

WWLBLWNP- Part 5

“Mom, are you okay in there?” Matt knocked on the door.


He had heard some noises in the bathroom but wasn’t sure he was meant to have heard them. Really all he had heard was “What am I going to do” and a bump.

“Sorry hun, I’m fine.” His mother’s muffled reply came.

“Mom, I’m going to Louie’s house. I’ll see you later. Good luck job searching. I love you Mom; we’ll get through this.”

“Alright son”

“He’s so full of confidence. Too young and naïve to realize what a cold harsh world this is.” She thought.

She dragged herself up and pulled on some professional-looking clothes hanging up in the bathroom. Today marked a new beginning to her. She was starting over.

*Ring* *Vibrate* *Ring*; her cell phone was ringing. Who would be calling her? She picked it up after the 3rd ring.

“Hello?” she said into the speaker.

“Fran, it’s me George. Before you hang up, listen.”

“I’m listening, please be quick.”

“I need you to fly with me to Los Angeles; it’s about our divorce.”

“What? I don’t have the money to do that now. Why would I need to go anyway?!” She said; why was her soon to be ex-husband trying to get her to fly across the states?

“Don’t worry about the cost. I got it covered. Please, it’s really important. We wouldn’t be gone more than 3 days.”

“We better not.” She bit out. “Who’s going to stay with Matt and Rachel?”

“Well, we could take them with us or they could stay at their grandparents.”

“I don’t know George” was all she said as she hung up the phone.

Fran wasn’t sure if she was hurt or angry at what he had done with her. When she had first found out she just went to bed and cried for hours. She didn’t want to lose George as she loved him and still did to this day. Could you forgive someone who betrayed you? Even after she confronted him he still carried on with his affair. No one should blame her for leaving him but they still would. She was sure George would come up with an excuse and probably say she was insane. All her friends would probably listen to him and leave her too.

George hadn’t always been like this though. They had met in college and married after only 6 months of dating. They had really loved each other. Fran wanted to be a teacher and George was going for business. Fran dropped out of college after they married so they could save money. She also got pregnant with Rachel 6 months after they were married. George was always so thoughtful; he would bring her flowers when he knew she had a bad day. He would watch Rachel so she could go out with girlfriends and always let her choose what they watched. But then he began working at Polytech; the company he still worked for. He became obsessed with money and power. He was making lots of money now for the company and for himself. Matt had been 3 when he started acting this way and so he never really knew his father well. Rachel had always been his favorite.

If only she had convinced him not to work at Polytech. Maybe things would be different, but it was too late now.

“Maybe I should go with him…I guess it wouldn’t hurt anything…What do I have to lose anyway?” She thought.

Fran searched on her cell phone for George’s number. Soon the call went through and she heard his voice on the other end. Fran said just a two words. “I’ll come.”

Rachel woke up to the sun on her face.

“I just had a nightmare…weird. Mom and Dad were getting a divorce and then Mom took Matt and left…and Dad had multiple affairs…”

Rachel was disconcerted. Was it a dream or real life? To check, she ran from her room to Matt’s.

“Matty!” she called, using her childhood nickname for him.

She opened the door. The room was completely bare, save for some furniture. Matt usually had posters on the wall of his favorite bands…They were gone and so was the bed’s comforter and sheets.

“Maybe he just doesn’t like those bands anymore and Mom’s washing the sheets.” She thought, trying to persuade herself.

She went over to Matt’s dresser and pulled out a drawer. It was completely empty.

“No…no…NO! It couldn’t have been real! It couldn’t!” Rachel collapsed on her brother’s rug.

“Rachel! What’s wrong?” Her father burst in the room, having heard Rachel’s screams.

“Why did you do that to Mom? Why did you cheat on her?! Tell me!” Rachel was to the point of hysterics.

“Rachel, calm down. You have to keep yourself together!” He said, taking her gently by the shoulders.

Rachel sniffed and wiped her eyes. She glanced up at her father with tearful eyes.

“Why Daddy why?” She whispered, her lip quivering.

Her words were like a slap in the face to George. Slowly he got up and left the room.

Rachel’s words played in his head like a broken record.

“Why Daddy why?”

He pictured all the memories of Rachel and Matt growing up. He had failed them miserably. He didn’t deserve to be called their father. Why didn’t he stop himself? Why had he let himself give into temptation?