Bringing back the Bitch – PD

What could the strange man in the hat want inside the burnt remains of the old house you might ask?  Let’s find out.  

 

The World inside Scar’s hat 

https://i2.wp.com/33.media.tumblr.com/88491597dc1c912f7802500178c38ad6/tumblr_mtlycrkAub1so2p7uo1_500.gif 

Bringing back the Bitch

Part Two

It was true…the spirits didn’t lie. This house, this place that reeked of death was special in more ways than one. According to the police reports that the man in the hat had so ruthless acquired, this marked the spot where Mariela perished in the flames. Ah yes…that family. How long the man in the hat had kept watch over them, taking over from his father…and his father before that. Hatred never truly dies. It is possible to be bred into each family member, following on throughout the centuries from that initial moment where a high ranking member of Mariela’s ancestry had made a terrible mistake and lashed out in fury – the consequences of this were to see generations of her family persecuted. With Mariela’s death however, you would think that would have been the end of it. How wrong they were.

Witches were hated. That was a fact that was undeniable, but if you were clever enough to manipulate humans into believing that you were on their side – well, that just made setting up others all the easier. Take for example a man that went to such lengths to put a plan into place, and all to do with a future event that he foresaw. it was all about…opportunities. Impregnating a woman that would go on to have a daughter…a girl, who would end up being friends with the girl who would die only to rise and become one of the greatest rulers of Hell. Keeping his distance, watching from the shadows was something of a bitter sweet joy. But he was more than just a shadow….so much more.

Now the girl had gone, and after tracing her movements in her final hours and tapping her phone, she was to meet with the brothers of the target. After that…she vanished…along with them. There was a link…there had to be. The man in the hat held the picture of the beautiful Tessa in his hand and quietly folded it and placed it into his pocket neatly for safe keeping. Smacking his lips and then with a somewhat somber expression, he turned around to the bodies of the two dead police officers. Killing them had been intentional. His purpose was about to become exposed.

Taking out that same piece of chalk that he had used in the hallway, he began to draw a pentagram upon the floor of the burnt out basement. The eerie scratch of the chalk along the concrete was the only sound – coupled of course with his heavy breaths. He did not utter a word till the pentagram was complete. When he finished, he reached into another pocket and placed down items at each point. These were ordinary pieces – a bracelet, a lock of hair, a small doll, a note and a raven’s feather. When each was in place, he went to the Sheriff and dragged his body across the floor till it reached the edge of the pentagram. Taking out a blade, he cut the man’s throat – spilling his blood into the chalk drawn symbol. The second man; the deputy, the man in the hat did the same but at the opposite end. Taking out five black candles, he put them at each point.

As the blood of the two men reached the center of the symbol – drawn together by a strange force, the man in the hat took out a small yellowed parchment that had been torn out of a book….a very old book.

Closing his eyes, he began to chant. His voice shallow and quiet at first, only building as he started to breathe life into his summons.

Attenrobendum eos,
ad ligandum eos,
potiter eos,
coram me.

All the candles burst into flame, with the room filling with a chilling wind, as though a dark crypt was being opened. One that never ever should be.

The blooded pool glimmered and then started to rise as it began to take the form of a woman…a woman who herself had been murdered by the young witch. The most shocking thing was….that she was once a Princess of Ambition…A Princess of Greed. Taken down by the same girl, who had died in this very spot. Bringing back the only bitch who could truly direct the man in the hat to his ultimate goal.

https://31.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbu5cou4be1r228quo1_500.gif

Fleshing out into her original form, she turned around to stare at the man in the hat warily.

“Who are you?”

Lydia glared at him, before looking down at herself and then smiling to see that she was not disfigured or aged in anyways. The man in the hat then removed his hat and bowed before the former Princess of Greed.

“Your new partner. We have…. interests in the same….girl.” He extended his hand to her with a wry smirk. “I’m someone that hates Mariela more than you ever could.”

https://i2.wp.com/resources1.news.com.au/images/2014/11/04/1227112/302465-06e4b432-6088-11e4-a822-f0e45dcacc2e.jpg~RB~ 

Old McDonald had a goat? – GS.

 

The fluffy alien with an insatiably curious mind was causing all sorts of chaos, as the four tried to answer her questions.  Of course, the guys had other more pressing matters to attend to.  The package that had the dirt on the Commander for one.  Would Frank use it in a bid to clear his name?  Read on and find out.

Scene setting – Elissa’s apartment : Gantz Series.

Co-written with Temp, Chor and VunG.

 

Temp:  Xillia looked back and forth between the humans as they reacted to her little ‘show’. The explanations that she received about breasts were very interesting to say the least, and more or less made perfect sense. It seemed as though human males were quite fond of these things, which was also common among her people. She couldn’t help but smile as she analyzed Frank and Tommy’s reactions to her exposure. “I see! So they are important among you as well! I’m glad mine are to your liking!” Of course, she didn’t quite understand that any of these humans were ‘romantically involved’ with each other. In fact, she didn’t even know what romance was. Breeding was a common practice among her people, but love and things of that nature weren’t really present. From her perspective, if two beings found each other desirable for procreation then they would engage in a mating ritual. She didn’t expect that from these humans though, as they seemed to already both have mating partners. “I wonder what it would be like to mate with a human…am I too large for that?” Probably. It was unfortunate that it was an experience she would likely miss out on, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. “Well, never mind that…I’m grateful for the information you’ve shared with me.” She bowed her head towards them all in a sign of appreciation. There was still a great deal that she wanted to learn about the humans and their culture, but there was no need to rush.

 

Chor:  Despite her best efforts, it seemed Isolde still was the odd one out – continuously proving she wasn’t quite capable of functioning in society without making a fool of herself. She bit down on her tongue. For most of the rest of the conversation she focused solely on running her fingers along and scoping out the terrain of her left clavicle, the bone jagged where she’d been injured a few years back. When it seemed the conversation was dying down, Isa chimed in once more.

Also, they are not only for ogling by suitors; many females utilize them to feed their young,” she spoke, a little more reserved than the original vigor of her earlier statement. She was glad to be able to be the one providing information for this alien species who was so very interested in human nature. It was almost an honor. No one has done this before; that has been recorded…

It’s my pleasure.

VunG:  The guys’ reactions were… well Elissa couldn’t say what she’d expected, but they sure as heck weren’t too far out of the ordinary. Frank’s reaction was… well pretty much what she’d imagine a horny Frank to look like: goofy, inelegant, and comically ridiculous. As for Tommy though, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as he struggled between the alien’s huge knockers and eventually settled on hers, assuring her that hers were ‘perfect.’ It got a smile out of her, and while it was kind of silly that he was struggling between her and a twelve foot tall fluffy alien, she knew that men had pretty bad times trying not to look at anything that shoot a rack their way. Reaching across the table, she grabbed a napkin and wiped at his nose, giving him a coy grin before turning her attention back to the alien.

Jeeze, this thing was freaking relentless wasn’t she? That alien just seemed absolutely obsessed with the idea of mating–were her kind hedonistic or something? Of course, then came the subject of mating with a human, and the first thing that came to mind was a phrase that would probably be a little too mean to the boys to even write out, a snort escaping her followed by a silent laugh. However… she had an idea. After nodding her agreement with Isolde’s comment and smiling her own silent ‘happy to help,’ she got up from her chair and went over to the fridge, looking around until she found a hot dog. Then wrote down her message and brought one of the sausages over to the alien, placing it in front of her along with the note. ~If something this size would be too small for you, you’ll probably be disappointed. That, and you might crush the poor guy.~ Hot dog down a hallway, folks. Hot dog down a hallway.

 

Razorbackwriter:  
While Tommy’s cheeks went a dark shade of red over the fact he had a nose bleed at the worst possible time, Frank was now guffawing like there was no tomorrow. Talk about Goofy on steroids. If it wasn’t the fluffy Princess asking if she would be too large to mate with, it was Elissa putting it pretty plainly that she would be way too big for the likes of a mere human male.

“Our penises are a fair size….but…you know. They might get lost.” Frank managed to get out. “But…yeah, I think we might be biting off more than we can chew.”

The detective had to take his hanky out of his pocket to try and wipe away the tears that now stained his cheeks. It took him a good few minutes to reign in his laughter, all the while, Tommy was trying to look anywhere, but at the fluffy Princess. It was all a bit too much.

The reporter then remembered the package on the coffee table. This was probably the worst time to hand it over, especially after Frank had been laughing and enjoying Fluffy’s antics. Getting up from the table, he went over and scooped up the evidence, including the pictures and the DVD of him at Madame Rose’s club. Knowing that Elissa would be watching, he said on passing. “He needs to see these. Probably better if he does so later though. I don’t want Fluffy getting the wrong idea…you know?”

Course, they both knew what the pictures were of.

“Frank. I got some compromising material on the Commander via…..a source. It might be your ticket to stopping him from standing in the way of your investigations of Rory.”

Frank completely stopped laughing and looked at the package before taking it off Tommy’s hands.

“What is it?” Genuinely curious.

“Let’s just say…..the Commander should be called “Old McDonald loved his goat….ei ie ei ie ooh.”

Frank unzipped the package and took out just one of the photos. It was all that he needed to see.

“Woah. That’s fucked up.”

He offered the picture to Isolde for her opinion. This would be scandalous and career damaging to say the least.

 

undefined

~RB~

 

Temp:  The size of the ‘hot dog’ that was shown to her was not very impressive. The males of her kind were definitely much larger. Crushing a human would also be bad. Xillia was a bit upset that the prospect of mating with a human was not likely to go down well, but she wouldn’t let it keep her down. “I see…that’s unfortunate.” No mating with humans it seemed. After all the last thing she wanted to do was be disappointed with a humans performance, and she definitely didn’t want to crush one. It would just have to remain a possibility. The new topic that the humans were talking about didn’t make much sense to her, but that made her all the more curious. “What is a…Old McDonald? What does fucked up mean? What’s a goat?” Her tail was wiggling like crazy as she plopped out question after question. More things to learn! MORE THINGS TO LEARN!

 

Chor:  Isolde blinked as Elissa disappeared to the kitchen; having no idea of what she could need there. What she produced though, was enough to send Isolde reeling. She burst into laughter; covering her mouth with a dainty hand. The alien didn’t seem all too pleased about this and her face showed Isolde that their anatomy was far less sizable. When she was able to calm herself, Isa added, “…and that’s being generous.

The mood in the next moment was completely changed; it was serious. The very air in the room thickened as Tommy produced an envelope, one which was stole from his hands after stating something about the Commander. The thought of putting that insufferable cock in his place brought a little more joy to Isa’s day and she imagined what it could be that they’d found. What she saw, though, she was in no way prepared for. Was that a goat? A goat. It was most definitely a goat. Now, Isolde has seen many things in her profession of choice. Men reduced to ground beef, disembodied parts of all origins, or even people from whom the skin has been peeled away. This, however, she could not stomach. Her gag reflex toyed with her, producing bile which she promptly left the table to dispose of in the nearest trash can, along with the amazing breakfast she’d shared with Frank before all this mess occurred.

What…” sentences were attempted, but nothing followed as she wiped her face with a wet paper towel and trashed that too. Sitting back down relieved a little of the nausea. The Commander had recently been gotten married…Isa was sure of it, but he…with goats..and…

There was nothing else to think about. This man was so fucked up even Isa couldn’t fathom it.

VunG:  Oh good God, what had Elissa done? All the laughter from her comment was actually kind of overwhelming–she had meant it as a joke, but holy cow she really had sent the room into hysterics. Well, guess she’d best own it. As Isolde added her two cents, she promptly snickered and nodded agreeably and struggling not to fall into the same degree of laughter as the others were. It was clear the alien didn’t quite understand what was so funny, but at least she got the point that humans were a touch tiny for her tastes.

Of course, the joy was sucked out a bit when Tommy realized that it would probably be a bad idea if the alien saw those pictures. She’d think that they found interspecies relations acceptable, or maybe that spying was okay, neither of which were even remotely true. That said, she had been hoping to hold off on actually showing Frank what it was, and as he went to grab it she internally cringed as she realized that this might get very quickly out of hand if Frank was a little too vocal on it. As it was Tommy’s comment had her palm on her forehead within seconds, letting out a sigh as she tried not to laugh at that.

The alien, for her part, clearly wasn’t stupid, and picked up pretty quickly that there was something going on. Sighing again, she quickly wrote down a response. ~In order. Old MacDonald is an old children’s song, ‘fucked up’ usually means that something is very wrong or disgusting (which is the case here), and a goat is a four-legged critter about two-thirds our size often used for milk, meat, and occasionally fur. You’d be best off not knowing what’s in there, but if you MUST, know that it’s very abnormal~ As she was writing that, she would be taken off-guard by the sound of retching, and would see poor Isolde puking into a trash can. Well, at least she’d made it to the trashcan. Handing the note off, she then gave Isolde a few pats on the back and got her some paper towels to wipe her mouth off, and once she stopped heaving she began filling a glass of water for her. Apparently she had a weaker gag stomach than Elissa–ironic considering the work she did but, meh, Elissa used to be the one putting people in the morgue.

 

Razorbackwriter:  
Frank’s initial reaction was one of shock and revulsion. Here was the top cop in the city doing unspeakable things to a domesticated farm animal. In a club no less. The detective’s eyes narrowed as he studied the photographs further, trying to work out just where he had seen the curtains in the image before. It was familiar in an odd way. That alone sent shivers through him. Isolde was not able to hide her disgust. She was up and over at the trash can basically bringing up her breakfast. Who could blame her? Elissa was quick to go and tend to Isolde, while Frank was deep in thought now. This package of photographs, and what looked to be a surveillance DVD was dynamite in the wrong hands. After everything the Commander had done to stand in the way of Frank’s investigations, and also the latest shooting death of the mobster back off the alley near where Rory was taken, this now shined a light on just how fucked up the Commander really was. Wasn’t he just married to some mail order bride from Honkers?

With the alien still asking a lot more questions, which seemed to be endless, Frank started to stuff the photographs back into the envelope that they came in. First things first. He had to ask.

“Okay Tommy, where did you get these?”

Tommy hadn’t been forthcoming with this information in front of Elissa before now, and he slowly rose to standing. You could see he was uncomfortable with being asked this in front of the others. Especially, Elissa.

“Remember Madame Rose Li?”

Frank nodded slowly. “Yeah, really creepy lady that was involved with your brother before…” His voice trailed off as he could see Tommy’s face changing. Just talking about that, was bringing back memories he rather not forget. Tommy took the lap top up off the table and closed it slowly. “She was at my office at work. They, and I assume she means the mob are more than aware of who killed Joey Patone. They know that the Commander is trying to fit you up for it.” He stared down at the parcel in Frank’s hands. Tommy now wondered just what Frank was going to do with it.

“So…heh…you’re telling me, that the mob are trying to help a cop?” That…in itself didn’t make any sense. The reporter looked uneasy as he dragged his fingers through his hair. “I think the Commander is more of a danger to them then you are. For some reason. I guess this was an insurance policy to shut him up.”

It was starting to look very much that way. Now the question was, would Frank use it?

Frank bundled up the papers, and then turned to face Isolde. He knew what he had to do, but didn’t want her involved.

“I’ve gotta go. You stay here with….Xillia.” Dragging along the alien on this very private mission was a bad idea. “I’m tired of being the scapegoat. I need to end this.”

Not waiting for her reply, he kissed her lips softly, before grabbing his coat and making his way to the door. Tommy pretty much knew this was going to happen, but he also had to go to work. “I’ll come downstairs with you.” The reporter felt bad about leaving Elissa and Isolde with the fluffy princess, but both men had things to do. Interviewing Xillia had to wait.

Tommy grabbed his sports bag, and seemed to forget everything about the promises of dinner. He had someone he needed to see.

Madame Rose.

 

~RB~

 

Temp:  Xillia turned her gaze towards the different humans as they spoke and mentally documented their words and explanations. All four of these humans were interesting in her eyes, and she found that she enjoyed their company. She still didn’t understand what they were really talking about, nor what the pictures contained, but it didn’t bother her. Her tail happily wiggled back and forth as her eyes wandered about the room in curiosity. There were so many strange things on Earth that she simply wanted to grab and examine, like these humans! Though from what she had gathered they probably wouldn’t like being picked up and examined like dolls. She watched as the two male humans started to get up and leave, and tilted her head very far to the side as she watched one of the males press his face against one of the females. “Oooooh! What was that?!” She shouted as the males exited the room, and then scurried over to Elissa, who she got very close to. She even leaned down somewhat close like Tommy had to her. “Was was that thing you two did? What is the purpose? Is it healthy? Does it feel good? Do you do that anywhere else? Can I try?!” Her eyes were probably sparkling like diamonds right now as she stared at Elissa in a crazed state of curiosity.

 

Chor:  Everything was a whirlwind. Isolde was barely aware of the conversation and motion of people around her, but something serious- a sort of plan you might say- was silently happening in the room. There was an uneasiness roiling in her now empty stomach, and not for that reason. There was something about the way eyes glanced around the table and sentences were formed in intense fashions that told Isolde that it was going down; immediately. Frank had come to a standing position and was speaking with Tommy about some mob contact. It wasn’t surprising, really, considering how much fucked up shit had already happened in the past 24 hours. When it comes to the mob, your common enemy makes you a foe…until you become necessary for disposal. Claura often had worked with mob contacts in Vice as many of the girls had contracts with the many families seated deep within the city. She’d told stories, mostly just simple things that she could mention without reprimand, but Isa knew not to meddle with those kinds of people. Frank was leaving? A blink, her mouth opening for protest, closed and reopened her eyes swiftly as he looked to her.

But-” there were no words she could think of that she’d rather say than experience what happened next. As his lips made first contact, a dark hunger turned the hornets in her stomach to butterflies. If he had not so soon left her, she didn’t imagine she would be able to resist continuation of this kiss. Her eyes searched his and in them saw nearly the same sort of determination and desperation that she’d noticed when she followed him from the pizza place. It was so frightening to see, her breath caught. Frank was leaving. Was he coming back? With no one to be there for him, would he fare as well as the last time he ventured into the night seeking redemption? Isolde’s bone-white fingers curled into her palms, pressing her nails dangerously into them. Even after he left, she did not speak. Xillia was reinvigorated, asking more questions than Isolde was even prepared to answer. She could do naught. Swallow. Blink. Breathe.

 

VunG:  Elissa would look up from tending to poor Isolde with a raised eyebrow as the men talked about their needs for work. It still concerned her that Tommy had a connection within the friggin’ mob and that they were playing some sort of political game with those murderers. Still, it was what they had to go on, and the fact that the mob was even interested told her that the bastard probably already worked for them and they were just trying to get some loyalty points with someone else. Having a detective on your payroll would be valuable–not that she expected Frank to go that far, but that was probably the thought. That all said, the look on Tommy’s face when his brother came up made her curious, and while she didn’t bother asking at the moment, she made sure to log it away.

Eventually the guys made to leave, and she would make sure to give Tommy a hug before he took off, nodding to the request to keep an eye on Fluffy. Granted, she didn’t know what all she could do in that regard, but she’d give it a shot. The sight of Frank kissing Isolde threw her for a loop, but like she’d been thinking throughout this whole thing–it was none of her business. Sighing, she gave them a gesture halfway between a wave and a salute, mouthing ‘godspeed’ to them as the door closed behind them.

And then the moment she turned around she had an alien filling the entirety of her vision. So many friggin questions! And of course she wanted to kiss because apparently it was something new to her–friggin’ wonderful. Sighing, she stepped back from the alien a bit and pulled out the notepad again and began writing a response… knowing full well that this was going to be a very long day… and that she would probably have to explain some things to her since Frank and Isolde hadn’t. As she wrote though, she noticed the look on Isolde’s face, and realized that there was probably something going on beyond Frank and her being in a relationship. Sighing, she finished the note and handed it to the alien before heading over to Isolde, touching her on the shoulder and looking her in the eye, a concerned expression on her face, trying to silently convey that she was checking if she was alright. As for the note… ~Clearly those two didn’t tell you much. I’ll answer as many questions I can, though I’m going to need something bigger than this notepad to do that. Let me check on Isolde, she looks pretty rattled, then I’ll get a notebook and sit down with you, okay?~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bad Kitty – GS.

 

Tommy and Elissa’s quiet romantic moment is suddenly interrupted by the most unlikely creature ever.  Frank and Isolde have also come along for the ride, but this is going to take a lot of explaining.

Scene setting :  Elissa’s apartment – Gantz Series.

Co-written with Temp, VunG and Chor.

 

Temp:  Xillia, Isolde, and Frank would all suddenly appear within the apartment only a few feet away from Tommy and Elissa. There was a very peculiar scent in the air of this room, one which Xillia definitely recognized. It was the scent that normally went hand in hand with intercourse, something which Xillia’s species also took part in. Though, she wasn’t quite sure how it worked for humans. Perhaps it was similar to her own kind? Whatever the method might be, she was definitely curious. She now let go of Frank and Isolde and remained on her knees due to her being too tall to stand completely. Xillia scooted very closely to the other two humans in the room, who were in a very close embrace.“Ohhh my! Are you two planning on mating more? You must allow me to witness it!”If her eyes could light up and turn into sparkly stars, then they certainly would do so at the prospect of watching them unite.

 

VunG:  It was slowly becoming clear to Elissa that… that there was a real chemistry between them, more than just friends who like each other in bed, more than just people curious about the other… there was something real there. As she felt his sweet touch and opened her eyes to see the joy in his, the happiness she felt from seeing him so comfortable with her was… actually rather alarming. But… she was fine with it. And as he took her in for a kiss, she gladly accepted… and found that it was neither lustful no aggressive… no she could feel his emotions through it… and she had to admit that the moment was overwhelming. As much as she was reluctant to admit it, his feelings, his fire, was starting to spark up in her, and as he kissed her, pushing her into the wall, she gladly accepted it, lacing her fingers behind his neck with her eyes closed, simply enjoying this sweet moment, happy to continue it as long as he would have her like th–

“Ooh my! Are two planning on mating more?” Immediately her eyes snapped open and turned towards the source of the sound to see… the strangest looking woman she had ever seen standing smack in the middle of her home. She broke the kiss with a start, turning to look towards the woman, her hands still linked behind Tommy’s neck as she stared at the woman, trying to figure out how she’d gotten in. Then, just as she was releasing her boyfriend, she suddenly spotted Frank and… that seemed to be Isolde with him. How had they gotten in?! Immediately she began looking around frantically, looking at the door–which was still locked–then at the woman staring at them like a kid in a candystore… and just talked about watching them do it… at least that was what she thought she heard… the window which was still very much closed… WHAT WAS GOING ON?! She quickly began looking frantically between everything, fingers pointing every which way as she tried to figure out what had just happened. Her fight-or-flight reflex hadn’t even kicked in, this person was just so strange and harmless seeming that she was just completely lost! Eventually she calmed down… only to just stare slackjawed, going from Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy, to fluffy, to Frank, to Tommy…

 

Razorbackwriter:  Lost in the blissful kiss, that was now getting even deeper, Tommy was completely unaware that they had an audience. A very enthusiastic one at that.

“Ohhh my! Are you two planning on mating more? You must allow me to witness it!”

Tommy’s eyes snapped open while in the middle of the kiss, only to pull away from Elissa and come face to face with the biggest girl he had ever seen. She was so big that she was on her knees and watching Tommy and Elissa with a fascinated stare. Did she just say what he thought she said? Errr…

“Hey Tommy! Hi Elissa…This is….”

“FRANK!” Tommy let out an angered bellow, that would make anyone shudder.

“Oh shit.” Frank then hid in behind Isolde, while this cat girl was still staring at Tommy and Elissa with high expectations of a sexual floor show. If Tommy was completely taken aback by what was going on, Elissa was losing the plot completely. Her finger pointing became frantic, and Tommy knew exactly what she was trying to convey.

“NO!…NO, YOU CAN’T WATCH! YOU DIRTY…DIRTY…HEY WAIT, WHAT’S WITH THE TAIL?” He was only now just seeing the alien’s long fluffy tail and this was when his eyes darted to Frank and Isolde, who were just standing there, like this was…nothing new to them at all.

Tommy, being, well Tommy; moved his body to shield his girl from the cat girl while staring daggers at Frank.

“How the hell did you three get in? The door’s locked. And…and…” He pointed at Xiilia and uttered the question“How’d she know we’d had sex?”

Frank poked his head out from behind isolde and replied. “She can stop a car with a force field. I think she is an alien. A Princess too.” He bobbed his head and could see Tommy was livid. “Were you two really having sex?”

“I am so going to belt the crap out of you, Frank.” Tommy made a run at Frank, who screamed like a girl.

“Isa!…Save me!” Frank ran into the kitchen, leaving Isa to face the heat.

~RB~

 

Chor:  

Whatever Isolde thought she was expecting…her mind could not even touch the idea of what really happened when they entered the apartment. Complete and utter chaos had ensued, in an almost gentle and quietly furious way, with the alien upon her knees begging to be the private audience at the next showing of ‘Tommy and Elissa: Getting It On’. Having knowledge of the body most do not, it was obvious to Isa that they had engaged in some pretty serious intercourse. Sex was a science to Isa, she knew the signs; and the scene they happened upon in their arrival was a small hint as well.

Suddenly, the harmless pleading of the alien became banter betweenst the friends. Isolde, Frank cowering behind her, sighed and crossed her arms like an elementary school teacher.

This is all very expla-” she was cut off by yelling from Tommy and then things seemed to escalate more as he came rushing at the two to clearly assault Frank. Honestly, Isa might do the same in this situation. Frank’s shrill shriek, which almost had Isolde wondering about his sex, pierced Isa’s ear and as the two ran off she was left standing there alone in her white shorts and bright soccer mom hoodie. This was turning out to be an astronomically great day, depending on your definition of the word.

Mein Gott…” She paused.After a moment of letting Tommy chase Frank, she spun on her heel.

OY, BOYS!, “She practically screamed, though her commanding, rough voice did not hit the screeching level her compantion’s had. She looked then to Xillia and Elissa.

Please, if you would join me in the dining area?” she spoke gently, but there was something about it that wasn’t quite a question or a suggestion. They all needed to have a good old fashion family meeting; or a friendly chat of that sort. She went in search of this place anyways and sat herself comfortable at the table, licking her lips.  

 

 

Happy Memories – GS.

 

Scene setting : Detective Frank Malone’s Apartment.

co-written with Chor.

 

Chor:  The knock at the door was almost a relief. The silence and painful small-talk that went between them was awful. It was like watching people trying to pronounce words incredibly wrong or babies trying to walk for the first time. As the food entered the apartment, Isa knew the first thing she was going to do was eat. Then she could assess and conquer the situation. At the very mention of the food, she didn’t waste any time coming to where Frank had laid out the food. She pushed her slightly loose buttoned sleeves up to her elbow, showing more of the strange markings running from where her wrist met her palm to the crook of her elbow. They were so old news to her that she barely even noticed the black marks anymore.

Wow, this all looks amazing,” Isa spoke aloud, though it was mainly to herself. She was getting slowly more comfortable. Not knowing just what she wanted, she took a bit of everything, but mostly she helped herself to the bread. For someone who doesn’t eat much, Isolde loves garlic. She supposes it’s some cosmic proof – or maybe a joke- that she’s not a vampire, despite her looks.

Isolde was just a few steps behind Frank as she took up her plate and went back to where they would watch the movie. The previews, which she was intensely uninterested in, played in the background as she settled on the couch, bare feet tucking to her left underneath her as she balanced her food on her lap expertly. On hand holding her beer, Isa raised it to Franks.

To Claura,” she said, nodding to acknowledge Rory and her sister before taking a swig.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Frank made sure to tap his beer can against Isa’s as she said the name of the person she wished to toast. Both took a swig of their beers right after. Frank took quite a large mouthful of beer, before letting out a loud belch. It wasn’t intended to happen, it just kinda did. Frank looked a bit sheepish and placed the beer can down on the coffee table, taking up his plate and then easing back into a more comfortable position on the couch. With one eye on the TV screen, Frank happened to notice that Isa had taken a liking to the naan. It was then he remembered it was garlic naan, and this caused him to let out a chuckle.

“Gotta love a girl that is game to eat garlic.”

He didn’t mean to sound rude, but it may have come off as such. Realizing his gaffe, he then started to recant a story about one night where he had been on a double date. It was back while he was still married, and of course the focus of the story was on his male counterpart – Rory.

“Ever been to Giano’s pizzeria palace? No? Well, one night four of us went down there and it was the night I learnt that my mate Rory loved garlic. Man, he had garlic on just about everything. Every course. I can remember his girlfriend.”At this point Frank’s eyes started to water, as though he had remembered something terribly funny. “Rory used to give her dutch ovens. Man…that night. I heard she ended up sending him to the couch. Ahaha. He totally reeked.”

By now, the movie had started, and Frank was belly laughing at the memory of that wild night with his dear friend who stunk of garlic.

“Was coming out of his pores and everything.”

~RB~

 

Chor:  After Isa’s sip,she was nearly scared to death by Frank’s burp. She turned to him, hand covering the stupid grin on her mouth. Because of a dysfunctional belch reflex, Isa has never been able to burp. She envied those who could and found burping quite hilarious.

“Yeah, you’d think I’m Italian instead of German the way I inhale this stuff…” Isa said, chewing off and swallowing another bite with a sip of her beer. Isa listened to Frank and simultaneously had her eyes on the screen for the movie to begin while his story was told. The story was personal, and quite frankly hilarious. Now it seemed they both were stepped from their comfort zones, baring souls and telling embarrassing stories. As the movie began, the story ended, but Isolde was still laughing. Frank had an infectious chuckle and you couldn’t just sit there and let him laugh alone. Is knew of the garlic pores. When she still lived with Claura, the two would eat Pasta Margherita at least twice a week and would have to spend the night locked in their rooms away from each other, using copious amounts of industrial strength mouthwash.

Soon after the movie began, whether it was the beer the tryptophan in her system from all the food she could not stop eating, it had caused her to become drowsy. She blinked a couple of times, trying to focus on an honestly confusing and sad movie, but mostly found herself unable to. Eventually, she couldn’t keep her body upright and gently slid into a comfortable sleep, her body surprised she made it through that much of the film.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Isolde had the most beautiful laugh, and thankfully she didn’t find Frank’ story to be rude. She knew how garlic affected some people and she happily joined in even with the movie starting in the background. Frank had to wipe away the tears of laughter with one of the napkins provided with their curry meal. It felt so good to be able to laugh at something so trivial, especially about Rory. A happy memory in amongst so many that were sad.

Whatever tension there was before, had now abaited and the pair were able to enjoy the movie as it got going, whilst eating the curry from that random curry house suggested by the singing cabby. It really was a great meal, and Frank noticed that Isa had taken to it with relish. A gusto that could have been brought on by the beer possibly. Frank finished off his plate, using a piece of naan to scrape up the last traces of curry, while Isa seemed to be focused on the move. Or was she? Taking their plates, he was about to say he would wash up, when he noticed that she had fallen asleep. Right there on the couch. Frank chuckled softly as he took her plates and cutlery and eased off the couch gently so as not to wake her. He tip toed into the kitchen and then started to do the washing up, ever so often peeking through the gap between the bench and the cupboard to see if Isa had roused at all. Poor thing must have been truly exhausted.

Finishing up the dishes, Frank packed everything away – for once, and came back into the lounge room to turn off the TV. The quiet of the room only interrupted by the sound of the traffic outside his apartment building. Gently, Frank put his arms under Isa and carried her into his bedroom. He laid her down on his bed, and brought the cover up and over to lay across her as she continued to sleep soundly. Isolde was probably the first woman to sleep in his bed, since he had moved to this part of town. He bent down to kiss her forehead, before grabbing his own pillow and a blanket from the cupboard, and making his way back into the lounge, to sleep on the couch.

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isolde very rarely made it to the REM stage one so preciously needs to fully experience sleep. This also happens to be the sleep during which you experience dreams; one thing Isa tries desperately to avoid. It seemed the alcohol in her system gave her the faintest of reminders of the last time she indulged herself and the nightmare that followed was one of complete and utter torture. Her weakened body could not fight it off at first, but soon finally she awoke with a short yelp. Bolting upright, Isolde shoved the sweat-matter hair from her forehead and looked around. Where was she…oh god, she was in his bed? Not again.

She glanced down at her clothes, still on her body although highly disheveled,and uttered a sigh. There was a mirror on the other side of the room. Isa’s state could be considered treacherous. She really did look like she’d just tumbled down a mountain. Buttons unbuttons, skirt ridden up to the point of no return and hair knotted and wrapped in every which way. She looked like a commercial for the 1980s. What had she gotten herself into this time? Speaking of time…what time was it? Was it even morning. The room was dark, but she saw light peeking from behind the closed bedroom door. Had Frank slept out on the couch? Immediately Isolde felt guilt. She didn’t mean to force him out of his own bed.

 

A quiet night in – GS

 

Scene setting : Frank Malone’s apartment – Gantz Series.

co-written with Chor.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The ride over in the taxi had Frank feeling a little heady. Was it the music or the scent of exotic spices? This cab driver’s wife must have been a good cook. Trying not to burst out laughing when the cabbie started to sing a long with one of the tracks playing on his radio, he instead placed his arm around Isa and whispered in her ear. “Only in New York.” You had to admit the whole thing was comical. The smell, the music, the cabbie’s lack of musical training. Least now Frank had an idea as to why the guy was driving cabs and not appearing in an off broad way musical. Finally, the ride was at an end as the cab pulled up in front of Frank’s apartment building. The guy did understand English after all. Paying the cab driver, Frank was handed a pamphlet for the cab driver’s wife’s restaurant. No wonder the cab smelt the way it did. He was carting spices in the boot.

“Ah…the Sitar Restaurant. Might have to try that. Thanks.” Frank got out of the cab on his side, only to race around and get Isa’s door. He offered his hand to help her out which he hoped she would take.

Any nervousness that Frank might have felt about bringing Isa up to his apartment was quickly quashed, since he couldn’t get over her smile and the way she handled the cab ride over like a pro. It was often cheaper to use the cabs than trying to find a parking space, which is why Frank favored them as much as he did.

Taking Isa up the three flights of stairs, they finally came to the front door of Frank’s apartment. He rummaged for his keys, before opening the door. The tell tale creak of the hinges showed that it could do well with a bit of oil. Frank dashed in and immediately started a vain effort to tidy a little. Picking up old pizza boxes and Chinese take out containers – hurrying to the bin. He was like a fiend in racing about. Clearly he wanted to impress Isa if he could. Soon, he came to a stop and then clapped his hands together. It was almost like he didn’t know what to offer her first. When she had been left at the door, she may well have seen his study that was where the [i]”wall of mystery”[/b] was. All the cases, Rory…pictures and reports all tacked up on a massive board that covered half the room.

No doubt she would have questions.

~RB~

 

Chor:  While Isa’s family was still adjusting to American life, her father began work in the city. The money he sent the girls from his job paid for the small three-year stint they spent in upstate New York. The place was lovely, quiet, and Isa’s mother often marveled that it was so alike Germany. Isa was too young to even remember, but she knew in her heart that – from the few visits she’d been granted to see her father in the city- that downstate is where she wanted to be. Upstate was nice, but the city was beautiful. It had colour, originality, and brought so much more brightness to Isa’s life. This cabbie was what brought Isa to this place, it was the reason she resigned herself to the city and sold her soul to the idea that she could make it better one body at a time.

“Indeed,” she agreed. Only in New York.

The restaurant’s pamphlet, printed on bright orange paper, make Isa’s stomach growl furiously. Grateful of the loud, overwhelming music, Isa waited as Frank rushed to the other side and allowed him to help her from the automobile. He was acting very strange, which made Isa’s brow raise at the behaviour. As they entered his apartment, nothing really caught her attention as being overly filthy or too out of order. It was the home of someone who didn’t have the time for the little things. Sweeping, dusting…eating, sleeping, you know? She shook her head as he moved around like a whirlwind. He didn’t have to, she was not judging him.

Something her eyes gazed upon removed her attention from all else. It was the study, where it was clear Frank was attempting to solve the very case that destroyed his life so wholly. She was unable to keep herself from it, as if it had reached its saddening tendrils out to her and pulled her in. When Frank would clap his hands at the end of his cleaning spree, she’d already be gone, poring over the files and pictures like it was her own place. She pulled herself away, then, thinking the situation a bit inappropriate. Shutting the door as she exited, Isa went to look for Frank.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Frank had stuck the Indian restaurant’s pamphlet to his fridge while Isa had been drawn into his study. It was only natural for her to take a peek, since everything that was pinned to the wall was to do with the case that had consumed Frank’s life. Quietly, Frank came up behind Isa as she was shutting the door to his study. She would find herself facing him as she turned to look for him.

“Probably best to let that all be tonight.” He referred to the wall of investigations. For a moment there was an awkward pause, as though Frank really wasn’t sure what to do next. But his body had a funny way of showing just what he needed. A pained growl was audible and he rubbed his stomach with a rising blush to his face. “I can’t remember the last time I ate. Can you?” Frank had probably consumed a couple of gallons of coffee to keep himself alert, but as for food, he couldn’t even think of what he had last. Remembering the pamphlet on the fridge, he made a gesture towards the kitchen. “I’ve got nothing in the fridge except for some frozen dinners and that shit isn’t fit for consumption. Say, how about I order some Indian from the restaurant the cabby recommended.” Frank dashed back into the kitchen and took the pamphlet off the fridge door.

“Couple of curries…a few naan. I’ve got beer.” His face now hopeful that Isa would take Frank up on the idea. “Got a few movies we could watch while we eat.” Frank clearly had not dined with a lady in a long time. He was as easy going as they came.

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isolde felt embarrassment crawl about her skin as she turned right into Frank, nearly walking straight into him. She found herself nodding in agreement; they’d had about enough of that for the day. At the mere mention of food, Isa’s stomach replied for her, louder this time than in the cab, and she gave an almost guilty look.

“I can’t even count on my fingers the amount of days since the last time I really ate, ” she said shyly, feeling foolish about it. She could only imagine what he thought of her now as he truly realized the extent to which she was allowing herself to rot away. Isa always fed her cat, she always made sure everything was finished with bodies, always did her job to the fullest, but never found it of great import to nourish herself. Her bottom lip found itself between her right lateral incisors, biting gently.

Anything sounds good, really,” Isolde told him, not wanting him to worry about any special kind of food. She’s never been picky. At the mention of beer, Isa was the slightest bit conflicted. She wasn’t a drinker, for reasons she didn’t like to think about, but she felt safe with Frank. One wouldn’t hurt?

“Movies? Sounds good.

Truthfully, Isa has seen very few movies in her short life. As a child her family owned one movie which they watched repeatedly and in school she didn’t have time for the cinema. Now? Well, she has even less time.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Then it was settled. A curry night with a movie or two. Both would probably fall asleep on the couch, but Frank really didn’t mind. This was the closest he had come to actually relaxing. What he didn’t realize was that he had turned off his phone, so Tommy’s message had gone to message bank. It would be some time before Frank bothered to check it. Taking the pamphlet down, he used his landline to call the number on the back, and leaned against the doorway to his kitchen as a lady with a strong Indian accent answered on the other end of the line.

“Could I order a number 4 mild, with extra cream and a number 16 medium. Oh and a couple of naan breads.” Frank gave the lady his address and was told the meal would be there within the hour. They must have been having a busy run. That was good enough for Frank, who didn’t mind waiting. He keenly wanted to change out of his suit into just jeans and a t’shirt so that he could truly relax. Hanging up the phone, Frank explained how long dinner would be. “We have an hour or so before the take out gets here. Why don’t you rummage through my movie collection, while I go get changed.” Offering a light smile, he strolled into his bedroom, leaving the door open slightly as he took off his shirt and tie, dumping them both in a hamper. On his back you could see a tattoo on his right shoulder of an eagle. It was well detailed and had been there for sometime. It must have had some meaning to him, and that in itself was another story. He was well built and you could see that he did work out, from the tone of his muscles. Frank then went into his closet and dug out some jeans and a black t’shirt, before getting changed, while Isa amused herself. By the time he was done, he came out looking like a completely different man. He even ran a comb through his hair. He was still a tad rough looking, but in a handsome way.

https://i0.wp.com/thumbs.dreamstime.com/x/dvd-movie-collection-21744723.jpg

His DVD collection had everything from thrillers, detective stories, supernatural and of course a stack on the Marvel comic superheroes. There was three book cases filled, and a great choice for Isa to choose from. Wandering into the kitchen, Frank took two beers out of the fridge, then walked back into the lounge, offering one to Isa.

“Found something you like?”

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  This very situation was odd. Isa had never really stayed the night at a man’s house, save it be for overnight cram sessions with her laboratory partners in med school. Now, she’d just met this man and she was wholeheartedly ready to stay the night; no questions asked. It was definitely a change in character for Isolde, who mostly kept to herself lest she be interacted with. As Frank talked over the phone to the take-out place, Isa watched him secretly. His entire demeanor had changed from the first time she’d seen him. She could not imagine them having this same conversation and this same situation happening several hours earlier.

“Uh, sure,” Isa replied to his suggestion before he mosied off to change. Oh god, how was she going to find a movie? Isa’s television experiences consisted mostly of documentaries or interesting lectures and she didn’t want to bore him straight to death. He had a serious collection going, which made things infinitely more difficult. What if she chose the movie he didn’t like? Or one he just watched? With a sigh, she settled on two that sounded pretty interesting. As she turned, her eye caught the open door, just glimpsing the tattoo resting on his toned scapula. With that image in her head, she spun herself around, wide-eyed like a scared doe, and returned to reading the back covers of the films.

As Frank emerged, Isa peeked around once more, now glad to see him clothed. She looked at his casual wear and felt undoubtedly over-dressed for the occasion. She hadn’t planned for this…impromptu hang-out session when she’d scoured her closet for the day. Her hand reached for the two wedding rings on a chain around her neck, as it was a nervous tick, only to find them blocked by her button up. Oh well.

“Ehm, I’ve got World War Z or Shutter Island?” she said, holding the two up to either sides of her clavicle and looking forward to him. It was his choice now, because she figured the odds were better in pleasing him if she picked two. After his choice, she took the beer with a light thanks and opened it, the top digging happily into her finger as she twisted it off.

 

Razorbackwriter:  “Shutter island it is then.” Frank made the choice fairly quickly, as he had watched World War Z too many times to even count. Taking the DVD box, he went about removing the disc from the case and then walked over to the entertainment system, where he inserted the disc into the machine. At this point, he looked back at Isa and asked. “You sure you’re okay being here? I don’t want you to think I am like…trying to make moves or..” There it was. Frank was about as out of practice of how to act around a lady as she was about staying over at a man’s apartment. It was the first time Frank had spoken about just the moment, rather than the case, or Rory’s death. He stood awkwardly for a moment – pausing to let her say something. In behind him on the wall, was a picture of Frank with his small son on his shoulders. Happier times obviously. There was no pictures of a woman in Frank’s life. He had removed those when she walked out on him after Rory had died and their marriage fell apart.

Frank toyed with his beer can, having not even opened it yet. His mind was now going over everything and now he wanted to do the right thing by Isa. “If you wanna change, or freshen up, feel free to use my bathroom.” Was he falling over himself? He meant well, but you could tell now he was nervous. Dinner was yet to arrive. Maybe they needed an ice breaker.

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isa was a little glad that Frank chose the psychological thriller. She really would have picked the medical inconsistencies and pseudo-science in the other film to shreds. She was that kind, yes…

Frank’s question really caught her by surprise. She nodded almost fervently.

It’s fine, really. I think it’s better even,” she said, then thinking that too eager, added “…I mean if I go home I’ll just work.

An awkward silence. A sip of beer. Yes; good. At the mention of changing, Isa wished she had something. She resorted to just pulling off her jacket, which was a huge deal considering she would probably die in that lab coat. After doing so, she noticed her skirt had come up a bit to reveal one of the many symbols that ran all the way up her side from the outside of both thighs to just under where her armpit began. The skirt was swiftly pulled down to cover her and she made herself comfortable on the couch.

“I’m quite alright thanks.”   she said with a reassuring smile. He really needn’t fuss.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Frank may not have said anything, but his eyes, oh they could talk as they followed her skirt up her thigh when she had taken off her coat. Were they symbols on her legs. He even moved his head slightly to the right as though that might help him see better, but no sooner had her skirt risen up, Isa had caught onto the fact and then quickly smoothed it down into place. As she wriggled to get comfortable on the couch, she said she was alright with hanging out at his place after all. There was a tension there between them. Like two high school kids on a date, not knowing what to say or how to move forward. But just when Frank was going to say something about the markings on Isa’s legs, there was a knock at the door. That had to be dinner. “Just a sec.” Frank said; making his way to the door and opening it to see a young fresh faced Indian boy carrying a large bag. “You Malone?” Yeah, he had the right place. Frank took out a wad of notes and pressed them into the boy’s hand as he took the take out dinner bag from him. “Keep the change.” There was at least a ten dollar tip, and the young boy grinned. “Thanks, man.” Frank gave a little shrug before closing the door. It was the least he could do, since his apartment wasn’t exactly in the best neighborhood.

Walking back into the room, Frank got an idea. He motioned with his hand for Isa to get up and come to the kitchen. “Get it while it’s hot.” he called, as he placed the bag down on the bench and started to take out the curry box containers. The smell was a lot like the cab that they had ridden over in, but better. In his own element, Frank went to take out plates and cutlery, handing a plate to Isa as she came in. “There is enough for four people at least. You won’t go hungry.” This was said with a smile, as he opted for the Lamb korma with some jasmine rice. The other container had Butter chicken in a mild coconut and tomato sauce. In a paper bag was some garlic naan, that was easy to tear off and use for dipping.

Once Frank had helped himself, he headed back to the lounge room, where he cleared off magazines and his ashtray on the coffee table. It was casual dining at its best and Frank reached for the remote to start the movie. Isa would be able to hear the pre movie trailers starting on Frank’s sound system, which was fairly loud for the size of his apartment.

Frank picked up his beer and offered a toast, when Isa sat down.

“To Rory…” he paused so that Isa could add the name of someone she loved that had passed away.

 

~RB~

 

 

Two red roses – GS.

 

Scene setting : Back streets of New York.

co-written with Chor.

 

Razorbackwriter:  
Taking a cab across town, Frank stopped at a curb side flower stand. Paying the driver, he got out of the cab and then went to buy two roses. He handed over the ten dollar bill and took the two long stemmed roses from the florist, who asked if they were for the detective’s favorite lady. Frank coughed a laugh as though he might humor the florist into thinking they were, but he was too shy to say. The truth however, was far different. Taking out a dark pair of shades; he placed them on and crossed the street to the alley where Rory…was killed. Looking up and down the street and seeing no one that he knew, he walked down the bin lined small alley all the way to the last place where he saw his best friend and his partner alive.

https://i1.wp.com/wac.450f.edgecastcdn.net/80450F/comicsalliance.com/files/2011/05/batmana.jpg

There was no blood stain, no evidence of a man having died on this spot but to Frank it was burnt into his mind like it was yesterday. Kneeling down, Frank placed the two red roses on the ground – crouching for a moment as he said to himself a silent prayer. His right hand came up and partially touched his lips as though to stop himself from blurting something out that may be heard. You never knew who was watching. Eyes hidden behind the dark glasses, he paused there for a good two minutes or so, before slowly rising up to standing. He gave the area one last look around. A large lump formed in his throat as he fought to suppress the wave of feelings that were ripping through him.

Then without warning he screamed.

“WHY COULDN’T YOU HAVE TAKEN ME?!”

He was answered only by silence.

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  
Isa still had barely snapped into reality as she pushed her small wad of cash through the dirty, clouded slot to the bearded cabbie with teeth like jelly bellys. He tipped his hat and turned, waiting for her to exit. Yes, exit. The worn, cool door handle made a click as the door unlatched from its body and she exerted just enough force to make herself leave the vehicles warm interior. The cabbie rolled down all the windows, for no other reason than to shout inaudible advice and wish her good luck when she closed the door gently behind her.

Smoke clouded the road behind her, some of it billowing up to her nostrils, where her lungs lapped it ungratefully. The poison, though, was ignored. Her focus rested solely on the man at the flower stand. He bought flowers, a gesture Isa didn’t quite understand yet. She let her gaze follow him until he was just nearly out of sight and then she walked.

“Care for a rose, dove?” The florist sang to her, his voice sweet like honey. A thought appeared. Isa wondering how many years it took him to perfect such an inviting and charming tone. She looked at him, eyes lightly narrowed, and nodded. In his hands he held not a red rose, nor was it of any colour. It was completely devoid of and vivid variation of the rainbows skeleton hues. White. Such a pure, simple thing, she felt a knot in her stomach just gazing upon it. Maybe this was hunger, but she felt this pain differently, in a more emotional sense. She gave him all that he asked for and caressed the rose as she headed off in the direction Frank had disappeared a moment earlier.

After a short minute that felt like a century of never ending searching, Isa almost died internally, thinking she’d lost him. If he was truly to disappear, she might never get the chance to finish this. Across the street from her, a voice was found. The voice ripped her soul to pieces, shattering her well-built nonchalant disposition. Why couldn’t you have taken me? Isa’s brain exploded with memories of Claura, small tears beading in her eyes and traveling the distance of her face to fall onto her jacket.

Every single day for days, months, even years, Isa asked herself that question. She would have given anything for it to be her instead of Claura. Her older sister was taken from Isa and she cried to herself every day that she would one day figure out what had happened. This man’s pain was tangible as she absentmindedly crossed the street. She was quiet coming up on him, holding the white rose in her right hand very lightly, as if just by breathing she might ruin the innocence it exuded.

Then, as if suddenly a rope was removed from her throat, Isa spoke,
“I’ve learned the walls don’t tell you what you did wrong; why you’re left and they’ve gone. They only stare back as you bitterly retreat into yourself. They sit silently as your tears turn to acid and your life falls to shambles.They don’t whisper that there was no suffering; there is no reassurance that everything will be okay. Nothing is okay, because I’ll never know.

Isa tiptoed to Frank’s side, crouching to lay the ethereal white rose atop his two red ones.

“I’m so sorry.”

 

Razorbackwriter:  ~The Day you went away~

 

 

Frank’s body was practically rigid. He had not expected a voice. He had not expected her. Behind the dark shades his pupils dilated and his chin wobbled slightly as he fought back the tears. Men don’t cry, right? For so long nothing made sense. Like a white rat trapped in an endless maze with no way out except the lonely nights at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. That numbed the pain, if only for a short time. He could forget it all, and even who he was. But sobering up brought him back to the stark reality and the cycle would begin again. Isa was right. Frank had retreated into himself. The former family man, loving husband and dedicated detective – partner…all that was a bitter memory now. He was a shell…an empty vessel. Sure, he could be funny and make you smile, but within himself he found so little to smile about.

Why was it he could hear the deafening sound of his own heart beat, as though it was right in his ears? Why was this ache twisting his very insides? Frank blinked a few times to quell those tears as he heard Isa say she was so very sorry. As she lay a white rose beside the two red ones that were now resting together on the ground, Frank brought his face around to see Isa’s. For a moment, his face was like stone. Mixed emotions were hard for a man to deal with. He had told her to forget him. To let him walk away. Yet she followed him here to this…most sacred of places. It was where Rory’s life ended….and in a sense, Frank’s as well. It was the reason for the two roses. One for each of the two men.

Frank turned his head away for a moment and coughed, as thought he words he wanted to say were caught in his throat. The detective sniffed loudly – a sign that he was racked with emotion.

“I’m…..trying to make sense of it all. How one single moment can have such a terrible affect on every other facet of my life. If I could go back, if I could….” his voice trailed away into a soft whisper.

When Frank went to look at Isa, she would see a face that had stared back at her on many a day and night. That same sorrow, etched into the lines of his face. Loss, regret….guilt. We can torture ourselves far worse than anyone else ever could.

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  Raw; the only word that could describe this moment. The alley was filled and overflowed with pure, unadulterated, raw emotion.

Isa stared into Franks eyes as if his face were a mirror in which she saw wholly herself. It was impossible to look away, now, as the emotion sucked her up. This black hole she’d tried so desperately to hide behind her antisocial, dark, and cold facade now leaked out of her; her pores oozing this deep sadness that she never let seethe light. Isa’s hands came up to meet Frank Malone’s face and pulled it near hers, so that their foreheads were almost where skin met skin. Her thumb reached to where a small, ashamed tear had escaped and wiped it from his kind face.

If only is a suicidal lullaby; it’s a flame, it is all consuming and it will kill you if you let it,” she whispered seriously to him, her words accented with sternness. The words she spoke were truer than most likely any she’d even spoken in her days on this planet. Isa’s months of ‘what if’ s and ‘if only’ s had taken her down to a level she hoped to never reach again. As she spoke these words, liquid bubbled in her tear ducts and the tears threatened revolt against her now dry cheeks.

The journey is not yet over; you must be strong for him,” Isa persuaded, pointing at the roses as they sat wilting slowly on the filthy alley floor.

And if you truly believe I’m going anywhere, you’re dead wrong.

 

Razorbackwriter:  How long had it been since he had felt the gentle touch of a woman’s hands upon his skin? He couldn’t even remember. But in this moment where both Isa and Frank were kindred spirits – both having loved and lost. Frank was practically transfixed by Isa’s words. They were comforting in a strange way. Those nights where he had taken sleeping pills and drank a sizable amount of vodka all in the aid of never waking again. You could call it a low moment. A time when he had lost all faith. It was friends like Tommy that was always there when he was at his lowest. Offering him a helping hand. They fought like cats and dogs half the time, but the mate ship….that was true.

Frank let his head fall into Isa’s hands and then their foreheads met finally. He could smell her sweet scent permeate through his nostrils as he closed his eyes and simply let himself be held. Was it a sign of weakness to give in so easily? To not fight her off and walk away from everything? No. For once in his life Frank listened. This girl was wiser in her years than any other he had met, and while they had not ever been seriously close before, they were soul mates of this moment. Sharing a bond through loss. The journey was not over. She was right. Frank, was trying to lay it all to rest as he was about to leave once and for all. Beaten. But Isa, in her inspiring words roused in him the spirit that he had thought died long ago.

“And if you truly believe I’m going anywhere, you’re dead wrong.”

Frank raised a hand and removed his glasses so she could see the glistening of his eyes as they captured her own. Lifting his face from her hands, he then leaned in to kiss her forehead. Little did she know…..she had just stopped him from doing the unthinkable.

“Rory would have loved you, you know? Always had a thing for stubborn gals.” A hint of smile tweaked the corner of his lips.

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isa watched as his face told tales of his brain. He was reliving dark nights, as she often did, reminiscing unfortunately on hours spent pondering over mathematical equations to see just how much potassium chloride it would take for a woman of her height and weight. Isa’s mind justified these almost self-mortifying moments as she daily starved herself of both food and of human interaction for no other reason than to bury herself in her work as completely as a tick. Alcohol was the least of her poison intake. She was never really a drinker; that was Claura.

Finally, the rigid statue that was Frank melted into Isa’s embrace and in seeing his eyes she knew she’d stopped him from making a grave mistake. As she looked, though, she now saw understanding where there was only pain. The chains which bound him for so very long had retreated from their death-grip, allowing him breath and clarity. The kiss to her forehed was warm and kind and the thanks that came from it diffused through her skin and lit her aflame. The tears that followed in her own ducts came as he spoke. A light chuckle accompanied it as she looked to the ground to let the tears go.

Isa couldn’t dispute his words. She was stubborn, born with a drive that saw no end in sight. Without a doubt, Claura would have adored this man. Save for Frank, Claura may have been the only good cop in the whole station before her disappearance. They would have made a great team; maybe unstoppable. Isa now can only hope to do this for him. She’s not a cop, granted, but she is far more helpful in many other ways.

 

Razorbackwriter:  It was only at the end of his own tears that Frank was able to see clearly that his words had a marked affect on Isa. She was crying. A flood like release of her own that had Frank tilt his head slightly. Both of them had been keeping all this sadness and longing for understanding tied up within themselves that neither had had the chance to grieve what they had lost aside from those they loved. Themselves. It was almost instinct what Frank did next. Unexpectedly, he kissed away the falling tears that burnt her flesh. His lips tender to her cheeks till all the tears were gone. It was a gentle action, one that was probably saved for a lover. How he hated to see a woman cry. Even though these were tears were long overdue.

Frank wrapped his arms around Isa gently and brought her in for an embrace, his hand moving to the back of her head as he stroked her head gently. Allowing her to nestle her cheek to his chest. It’s surprising how something like a hug can bring us such warmth and peace. It was instinct. Natural and needed.

“Some tough cops we are. Heh.”

His words were not poetic or romantic. Just saying the first thing that popped into his head.

For the first time in ages, a real smile was on his face. Not forced, or painted. An inner warmth was spreading through out him. Isa would yet to realize what she had done for him. The roses lay upon the dirty ground at their feet, and already the wind was starting to peel back the petals. Frank had just let Rory go. Now it was time to save himself. Releasing Isa slowly, he said.

“Never thought I would be fighting crime within my own office.”

 

~RB~

 

 

 

Disappear – GS.

 

Scene setting : Big Joe’s Pizzeria

co-written with Chor.

 

Chor:   Isa was viciously reminded of her utter starvation the second her foot crossed the threshold. The wind displacement sent a breeze of warm, doughy scent straight to her nostrils and she fought the urge to order and purchase every slice of pizza in the joint. The odd looks she received snapped her mostly out of it and she seated herself in a secluded corner table. Isa had a very unorthodox style about her. She didn’t consider herself beautiful, product of a long, relationship-less life and years of emotional abuse, but she was charming and lovely in a way that drew you to her. If she bothered to eat now and again, she might fill out and stop looking like a corpse herself.

Style wasn’t really in her strong suits; the mess of clothes she called her wardrobe were not of the conventional sort. She wore things for the simple fact that she had to. Another thing that could put her off to people is her tattoos. Now, in an age where mainstream society is basically past the whole ‘tattoos are bad’ idea, her inkings are still a bit much. She’s riddled with symbols, a strange language no one can understand; not even her. It’s not obvious unless she’s in a tank top, but they cover much of her arms as well as her back. Today, though, Isa actually looked presentable. Hair braided loosely until it rested in a ponytail just past her clavicle, a black blouse and a black pencil skirt to match with comfortable flats.

Can I get ‘ya anything, love?” a pleasant-looking woman inquired of Isa. With a shake of her head, Isa dismissed the offer of food. She had to focus, despite her stomach violently grumbling in protest. The woman shook her head, having heard the noise, and stepped away muttering ‘damn shame’. Did she think Isa to have an eating disorder. Do I have an eating disorder? Sighing, Isa pushed these troublesome thoughts from her mind and awaited Frank’s appearance.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Having rushed back to his apartment to have a quick shower and change into a fresh suit, Frank took a cab to the Pizzeria rather than take his own car. It would be easier to lose anyone following him if he was in a non descript taxi than a car that would be recognizable. The yellow cab pulled up at the curb, and the asian driver sung out that Frank owed twelve dollars for the fare. The cost of everything seemed to have skyrocketed of late and Frank fumbled about in his coat to find the right change. Handing over the cash, Frank got out of the cab and slammed the door, before looking up and down the street for sign of Isa. He couldn’t see her in amongst the crowd and decided to head inside and wait for her.

No one could be more surprised than Big Joe, to see Frank coming back into the Pizza shop so soon. He came out from behind the counter, and tossed his checkered tea towel over his shoulder.“Franka….whata you doin’s backa here?” It was not that Big Joe didn’t want to see Frank, he just figured he would be at work. Frank slapped Big Joe’s arm in a friendly manner and then gestured to a booth at the back. “Would you believe your pizza is simply too good to stay away from?’

This brought a loud laugh from Big Joe. “Ha you fulla tha bullshit.” Both men had a good chuckle as they both took a seat. Big Joe had his teen son working out back and Joe had a few moments to spare. “Where is Tommy boy, eh?” Joe asked, now curious as to what Frank was up to. He hadn’t ordered anything yet and seemed a touch flustered. Like he was looking out for someone. “Tommy’s back at his office. I’d say he has a deadline to meet.”

Joe nodded slowly and then said. “Uh huh.”

Both men sat in silence for a moment and then Big Joe smiled brightly. “You still looka like shit. I get you a coffee.”Always hospitable. That was Big Joe.

“Thanks, Joe.”

Left on his own in the booth, he drummed his fingers on the table, looking towards the door….waiting for Isa.

~RB~

 

Chor:  It was not long until the door opened once more and through it came a very fresh-looking Frank Malone. He looked good all cleaned up, healthier than when she last saw him. Isa wondered if that’s how people thought of her…

He had not noticed her yet and she stood and, as he seated himself, ventured over. Settling herself across from him, Isa leaned back in her seat. The urgency of the situation still held in her demeanor, but in this place she felt about forty-seven percent safer than the station. Shortly after her arrival at the table, a cup of coffee also joined them. She stared at it and then up at the woman who’d asked for her order earlier. The girl gave her another once-over before stepping away to attend to the rest of the building’s patrons. Isa’s attention returned completely to Frank, then.

“How are you doing?” she asked, then thinking better of it. Stress, she could see, exuded from him like cologne. She, though, was not bothered by it; it’s almost charming when you wear the same, tense scent. Her left hand opened, like a cage door squeaking after being closed for a thousand year, and the flash drive fell out of it and onto the table in his direction. One blink. Two.

“This is the ballistics report. I haven’t been able to do an autopsy yet, but the findings will be the same. As long as we have this, it can’t be disputed. Bracks is probably having a conniption at the moment, trying to find a way to make it disappear…” She spoke, licking her lips afterward. Bracks was good at making things disappear.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The clatter of the coffee cup being placed on the table broke the silence as Isa sat down at Frank’s booth. He’d been watching the door and hadn’t bothered to check the restaurant for Isa. She must have been there before him. Was he slipping not to notice her right away? Thankfully clean shaven, Frank didn’t feel like a total scrub sitting there. In fact, he was wearing his best suit. He wasn’t planning to go back into work that day…..no he had other plans. In a way, Frank was pleased to see Isa, and in another he wasn’t. Guilt was now weighing heavily upon him, and this would probably be the last time they would meet, though he was not about to let her onto that…not yet. “How are you doing?” Sweet girl. Frank thought. Caring about a bloke like him. He was honest in his answer.“Seen better days.” The answer was short and too the point. He wasn’t about to get into some long winded speech. The time for talking long gone. Frank was a marked man and he knew it. Seeing the flash drive fall out onto the table had Frank stare at it for a moment, before raising his gaze up to Isa’s.

“This is the ballistics report. I haven’t been able to do an autopsy yet, but the findings will be the same. As long as we have this, it can’t be disputed. Bracks is probably having a conniption at the moment, trying to find a way to make it disappear…”

That one word. Disappear. A word to describe the past….the present and the not to distant future. Frank pursed his lips as he heard that Bracks was probably working on a way to make it…the report, disappear. The detective let out a long sigh before reaching across the table and slowly dragging the flash drive up into his hand – closing his fingers around it. It was a brave thing the girl was doing to hand him the report in a flash drive. All things considered. Frank turned his wrist and opened his fingers slightly enough to look at the flash drive, before then closing them again and stuffing the evidence into his pocket. In a way, it was his life insurance policy. Frank had forgotten all about the coffee cup that was sitting before him. He appeared distracted, like his mind was playing out what he had to do and yet he remained perfectly still. It took a moment for him to speak, as though this was the hardest thing he ever had to say.

“You’re a great gal for doing this, Isa. But…now I want you to forget about me. I’m going to do the same thing that report is going to do, till such time as I have enough evidence to take THEM all down. There is no point being a just man in a crooked police force. “

Frank took out a twenty dollar bill and placed on the table. He had still yet to touch his coffee. Frank offered Isa a warm smile…a smile of goodbye.

Standing, he said simply. “If anyone asks….you never saw me.”

With that, he headed out the door.

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isa could only blink silently as the world whizzed around her. Frank left her sitting there, bewildered, hands flat on the chipped wooden booth table. Words did not come to her. Thoughts, too, sat huddled with her confused feelings and refused to comply.
Standing, that was good. She stood and walked out the door, catching him jump into a Taxi like he was joining the Olympics. She found a cabbie idling in front of the place, probably waiting for a late patron. He wore a scowl as she approached the window, hoping to grab his services.

“Just get in, hun. Where to?” He said, as if reading her face. She pointed blankly at the taxi now motoring away from the site and climbed into the ripped vinyl backseat, wincing as the cracked coating scraped against her exposed flesh.

“Oh, you’re that type, huh?” He said, chuckling wildly like this was some sort of conquest of love and she was some sort of hero. There was still fight in her, yet. Frank might not see it, but Isa has a deep, deep well of focus that has latched onto him. She can’t let it go; she doesn’t have the ability to just give up now. Besides, she still has one more trick up her white sleeve. Or in her pocket, rather…

 

 

 

I’ll take the fall – GS.

 

Scene setting : Elissa’s apartment.

co-written with VunG and Chor.

 

VunG:  Even as she finally got the darn bottle open and got a couple aspirins in her, Elissa couldn’t help but feel like she was about to just die of exhaustion. How often was she going to have to deal with these sorts of injuries? It was like she was doomed to hospital bills that looked like the Magna Carta. Sighing softly to herself, she looked up at the sound of Frank saying he was taking off. Suppose that was natural, and she was definitely grateful for all he’d already done for her; she had to admit that she almost wanted him to stay, but she wasn’t about to force him or even attempt to convince him.

She exited the bathroom and headed straight over to him, and was about to shake his hand, maybe give him a hug before he left, when he received a phone call. Immediately, just from the expression on Frank’s face she could tell that something was amiss. Wincing and groaning, she walked over to the fridge, resigning herself to what was likely going to be an even longer day. She didn’t know why, but she had a feeling that things weren’t over just yet… so much for rest. Reaching in, she was about to grab a bottle of Dogfish Head ale… but stopped remembering all the medication that was probably in her and just grabbed some water. Why did she feel like she was about to get dragged into more of this madness?

 

Chor:  “I’ve got the report. Bracks is less than pleased and I have no doubt he’ll soon attempt to wipe the whole department of its existence. Or mine…” The last notes of her phrase she spoke a slight but quieter. The metal bit in her hand dug into her skin as her body used her fingers to shield and protect this item of extreme importance. She ducked out of the view of many passersby and let her gaze pass through the alley before she continued speaking.
“Is there a way we might meet? I need this information to reach you and I have trust in the notion that my computer has already been cleaned.” Her voice was calm, but serious nearly to the point of fright.

 

Razorbackwriter:  “I’ve got the report. Bracks is less than pleased and I have no doubt he’ll soon attempt to wipe the whole department of its existence. Or mine…” Isa said as Frank’s face grew grim. He should have known that the Commander was truly against him and that he would do whatever he could to make the real evidence of his innocence vanish. As Frank held the phone to his ear, he watched Elissa wincing and making painful sounds as she went to get a drink from her fridge. The poor girl. Frank had put her through enough and she needed rest. That was painfully obvious. As much as Frank wanted to stay with her, he knew that his own carrer and that of Isa’s was now on the line. Possibly their lives.
“Is there a way we might meet? I need this information to reach you and I have trust in the notion that my computer has already been cleaned.” Her voice was calm, but serious nearly to the point of fright. Frank heard the fear in her voice and knew that she was in way over her head on this one. He already had the guilt of Elissa being hurt from his actions, and now another woman was in trouble. He refused to let another take the fall for him. Raising his head slightly, Frank knew what he had to do.

“Meet me at Big Joe’s Pizzeria in an hour. I need to run home and change. You give me what you have, and I will let you know what I plan to do with it.” There was an air of finality in his voice….like he had just made up his mind on how to end this nightmare. Once and for all. Closing the call, he looked back at Elissa. It was like seeing a man walking the green mile.

“I wish I had more time to explain, but….I just want to say….it was nice knowing you.” Frank didn’t move to embrace her or touch her in anyway. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door. Pausing a moment before opening it, then walking out to the hall, closing the door behind him.

~RB~

 

VunG:  Elissa watched the man as he talked with the woman on the other end, and immediately her eyebrows were furrowed as she tried to figure out what was going on. She strained to hear the words on the other end, but to no avail. However, when she heard the directions, she also heard the doom in Frank’s voice, and all sleepiness was gone from her eyes as she realized that he was planning something. Of course, her first thought was that he would at least try to include her in at least explaining, some way for her to help him even if she was stuck here. But then… she saw the look in his eyes… the same one that had been in her mirror the morning she returned to work for the last time.

Even as he began moving to leave she tried to scramble after him, but found her sleepiness and blood loss taking its toll on her, and she had to stop. His words taunted her, and as his back turned she glared burning arrows in his head, frantically hoping that her thoughts made it to him: Don’t do it. Don’t go throwing your life away! She knew what it was like! She regretted her decision! She should’ve just quit from the force the day of her husband’s death, it would’ve served everyone better! If chasing Rory’s shadow was going to get him killed, THEN STOP CHASING! “STOP!” she hissed furiously as he closed the door. Running forward, she reached for the door handle only to have her vision begin to double up and she fell against it with a heavy thud. She slowly slid down the front of the door to her knees, giving it a good punch with her good hand before finally admitting defeat.

She wanted to scream! She needed to scream! She refused to let someone else die because of her failure! Part of her wanted tears to at least give voice, but not even those would come forward, she was just left silently fuming at Frank for his bull-headedness. She had no idea what he was planning, but… but she could tell from the look in his eyes it wasn’t anything good. She had to stop him, or at least help him and think it through with him! But… she couldn’t… because she’d failed. She was useless.

Slowly she walked over to her bed, and flopped down onto it, admitting defeat, her thoughts continuing to scream at her until she finally went to sleep.

Heads or Tails – GS.

 

https://i0.wp.com/www.hollywoodreporter.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/modal_800/2014/09/gotham_police_station_set_design.jpg

Scene setting: NYPD Police headquarters.

co-written with Chor.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Sitting in behind his desk, the Commander was smoking a cuban cigar and staring out the office window. He seemed a million miles away, a carefree look on his face. You’d think after the night before, then having to attend to the crime scene of Joey Patone’s murder that he would be still showing some annoyance about the whole affair, but surprisingly he wasn’t. A knock at the door broke his concentration and he took one last puff of his cigar before shouting “ENTER.”

A young constable opened the door, then in behind him was another officer who was holding one of the evidence boxes from Joey’s apartment. “You wanted this brought here, Sir?” The first officer asked, motioning to the second to bring in the box. Not even bothering to get up from his desk, Commander Bracks simply motioned with his right hand for the box to be set down on the right hand side of his desk where there was enough space. The second officer tread into the room and set the box down carefully. Both officers then stood there silently for a moment. News was buzzing around the office about the morning operation, the fact Detective Malone was there when Joey got shot. Rumors were rife, but the Commander was quick to discipline anyone who spoke about it. The Commander then stared angrily at the two men, as though they were loitering. “Haven’t you two clowns got better things to do than to stand there with your mouths open ready to catch flies. DISMISSED!” He roared. Neither men waited for a second time to be berated, hurrying out of the office and closing the door. The Commander leaned over slightly in his chair to see if anyone was trying to look through the office door glass, then when he saw the close was clear, he tore the evidence tape off the box and lifted the lid. Reaching in he took out a handful of photographs that were taken from Joey’s dark room. A smirk appearing on his face as he held one of the more….erotic photos up…..till the phone rang.

The Commander set down the photograph on his desk and reached for his phone, picking it up.

“Bracks.”

“Nice work this morning, Commander. I must say, you earn your commission.” The voice on the other end had a slight accent to it. Italian. “You got done fitting up Malone for Joey’s murder yet?”

The Commander then remembered that Isa was yet to submit her report. “I’m working on it as we speak.” He lied. The man on the other end was no fool. “Uh huh. Well, maybe I didn’t emphasize the importance to get rid of Malone.” The Commander coughed and tried to keep his cool. “I understand, I do. Look, if I have to squeeze a certain forensics officer to fudge the evidence I will.”

The man on the other end of the phone laughed. “You better, or that pretty young wife of yours is going to be a new star in one of my snuff films. Got it?” The phone call ended, with the Commander sitting stony faced in his chair. He had only recently gotten married to a young Thai mail order bride. She was innocent to all of the Commander’s back room deals.

“Shit.” The Commander muttered, slamming down the phone. As soon as Isa had done her report, the Commander was going to have a few words with her.

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isa entered the building as she normally would, except her body was shaking like a wet cat. One of the guards asked if she was alright after she was buzzed in, to which she replied she was ‘just dandy’. Not that he cared. He’s never spoken a word to her in all of her time working in the department. Isa’s eyes grazed across the room as she bee-lined for the elevator. The Commander was on the phone and the look on his face was a mix between terror and anger. He slammed the phone down in such a manner that she jumped. The sour smell that perforated the department was now infiltrating her lungs. One push of the button labeled “1” and down she went. The entrance level was actually level 2, as this was a converted building.
She’d hyperventilated the whole ride back, much to Khalil’s demise. He kept asking if she wanted to pull over, thinking that the putrid smell of the decaying body was getting to her. Little did he know…

“Isa,” someone called her name and she nearly died of a heart attack. Her eyes shot toward the sign. It was Ricardo; he would attempt to apologize. Isa read it in his eyes and didn’t have time for this.

“Look, Isa, I…” He began, but she cut him off with a raised palm.

“Ricardo, forg-” She began, but quick realized something. Ricardo still believed in the goodness of the force. He thought if the Commander knew he’d tampered with evidence, that might be the end of the career. She fought the urge to just laugh right there. Poor boy, didn’t know what he was getting into.

“Okay, Ricardo, I promise I won’t let anyone know if you do me a favour?” She countered, acting sincere. His face softened and eyes brightened. He was like a puppy who just happened to be working the evidence locker. Usually she could try to squeeze visits to the locker out of Molly, the normal ‘keeper of the things’, but with her being on Maternity leave that left Ricardo here alone. His eager nod just brightened her whole day.

“I need any files on Frank Malone. Not by him, on him. Also, those of Claura von Goethe. G-o-e-t-h-e. Got it?” She was hoping to get the report that claimed Frank as a suspect and study it. She also knew what other things would be in there. He set on his way to the back through the shelves.

“Sure thing. Hey, I’m sorry about-“ He started again, Isa rolling her eyes.

“Really, Ricardo, just get to it,” She interrupted, but that didn’t stop him. He was intent on apologizing about the earlier debacle.

“No, it’s the files. The ones for…G-goethe?” He said, struggling with the pronunciation like he was staring at a card that said it. Isa’s heart stopped.

“What about them?” Isa uttered passively, but shakily. He snaked back to her with one file in his hand…and it wasn’t her sister’s.

“They’re not here…can’t read the name, so no idea who took ’em out,” He said regretfully, taking in the look on her face. Suddenly it hit him.

“Oh shit, that’s your sister, isn’t it? The one who went missing? I’m so so-“ He began, but Isa ripped the file from his hand and stormed back to the elevator. She couldn’t get downstairs fast enough. Claura’s file had been removed, probably destroyed. They knew closing it wouldn’t have been enough. As the elevator made its final ‘ding’ on the Morgue floor, the doors grumbled open and she near burst out. Khalil was down the hall in the break room and she saw him watch her dash to her office through the large windows. He knew better than to follow, so she spent the next thirty minutes alternating between crying and throwing things across the room. Once her fit had finally receded, she sauntered with her evidence to the lab. The gun was already there, so she set immediately into her ballistics report. This would be the best damn report she’s ever written.
After a total of two hours and three minutes continually firing and searching weapons on the database and comparing the bullet found in the woman and the deceased male, she finally was able to put it to rest. There was no possible way that Frank Malone’s gun shot the bullet that killed that man, no matter her motives. Not that there were any. Everyone seemed generally shocked about the assassination, the woman Isa imagined because she was going into shock.

Sitting back in her tall wheeled chair, Isa’s eyes finally pulled back from the microscope. The proof was solid, the facts complete and the report bulletproof. A burning sensation in her chest, though, told her something terrible was going to happen. She sighed and wheeled over to her computer and searched the database for ‘Frank Malone’. Taking down his number on her yellow, coffee-stained legal pad and printing her report, she almost wheeled away to give her report to the Commander. However, she thought better and saved the report file, including all of the data files and photos, onto a small, clear flash drive. Snatching up the report from the printed, she left the office with more confidence then she’s had in a long, long time, to deliver to the crooked man upstairs what he needed to see…
‘knock knock’

 

Razorbackwriter:   ~Knock knock~

The sound of someone’s knuckles rapping on the office door brought Bracks out of his dazed state. The man was still staring at the phone handle he had just set down. He stared at it as if it were infected. It was not the phone of course, but rather the man on the other end that made the Commander feel physically sick. Truly stuck between a rock and a hard place, the Commander had to find a way to incriminate the Detective and his hopes that the testing and subsequent report by Isa were high. Little did he know that the woman was not going to bring him the smoking gun report. The ballistics tests and follow up report would show inconclusively that the detective was innocent of the crimes that the Commander was trying to fit him up for. The Commander pushed back in his chair which groaned in protest due to the Commander’s bulk. The idea that cops lived on a diet of soda and donuts seemed to be accurate when you took in the Commander’s obese state. When was the last time he ever passed a fitness test? Was he even fit for duty as a member of the NYPD? Probably not. The only reason he still held the position was because he was nothing more than a pawn of power. Those with total control liked to have lackeys like Bracks in charge of what would become a bent operation. Numerous reports, and evidence had gone missing over the past six months. Millions of dollars worth of narcotics and weapons vanishing from the evidence rooms. Many young cadets were often put in charge of these facilities, later to become scapegoat in the Commander’s schemes. If only there was someone brave enough to speak out. Someone with the balls to face up to what was a corrupt force. So long as Commander Bracks was in charge, justice was not even going to shine it’s light upon the city.

Seeing the female outline of Isa through the distressed glass door pane, Bracks barked “Enter”

As the door opened, the Commander rose to standing as though he was going to use his size and height as a way to intimidate the young woman. Staring down at her, he noted she had a file in her hands. No doubt this was the long awaited report. It had taken a few hours, and now it was time to learn of its contents.

“Took you long enough.” The Commander grumbled. There was no smile or real emotion on his face. He wanted to appear cold and detached. It was no secret of his hatred for Detective Malone, the whole office knew. How on earth Frank lasted this long was a miracle. Tapping his toe on the wooden office floor, he then lifted his chin and snorted like a malley bull.

“So….did Detective Frank Malone shoot Joey Patone and Elissa von Pourtales?”

~RB~

 

Chor:  

Isa liked to pretend the possibility of being murdered in her sleep didn’t scare her. The fact that it very much did made it difficult for her not to fear this conversation. Bracks held power, and not just power with the NYPD, but power in much higher, more dangerous places. She’d completely dissolved into her thoughts until hearing Bracks’ loud mouth calling her in. The knob was cold, since no one really used this door except him. He doesn’t get many visitors. The door creaked furiously, as if upset about all the evil it has seen. Isa’s heartbeat quickened at the sight of the commander, but she repeated a single line in her head again and again as she walked over to the chair in front of his desk; facing him. For Claura, for Claura, for Claura. It made her calmer, more ready for his backlash. Obviously this was only half true as she was also doing this for Frank, who didn’t deserve this kind of betrayal. She’d read his file, she knew the good he’d done for the force. It’s a damn shame that the good ones are the ones who get this kind of shit.

Bracks’ spoke and she raised her brows. Has he ever even read a ballistics report, let alone done one? Isa worked so thoroughly that it would take others’ hours upon hours to finish. More proof of unappreciation for Forensics in a whole. Maybe you should do it next time, she thought, then immediately recanted it. That would be about a billion times worse by far. Isa couldn’t even imagine Bracks doing any real police work at all. By the look of him, he didn’t do much of anything except eat and lie. The fact that he was standing was very apparent to her. It was intimidating only because of Isa’s seriously under-nourished size. He was easily two or three times her weight and the way he was standing it was like he knew it. He purposefully made himself bigger, more scary so maybe she’d back down. The question that arose next was the question of the day. She held the paper in her hand out toward him, her other hand fidgeting with some forceps in her coat jacket.

“You will find that Frank Malone absolutely and unequivocally did not shoot Joseph Patone or Elissa von Portuales,” Isa replied, her voice stern and confident despite the situation. The only thing she had definite faith in anymore was Science. Science isn’t biased and cannot lie. You cannot bribe it and it does not fear.  

Razorbackwriter:  The rising red flush on the Commander’s face was like that of a pending volcanic eruption. Purple veins pulsing so close to the skin that they almost were protruding through his sickly pink flesh. Eye sockets drooped slightly to reveal wet watery chasms, from too much drink. Those words of finality in the answer to the question of Detective Frank Malone’s innocence were like a death knell to the Commander. Age lines appeared to grow as he stared down the forensics officer; the words of the man on the phone still going around and around in his head. The words that the Commander wanted to let fly simply went unsaid, as he had to just nod at Isa’s findings. The Commander reached out and snatched the report file from Isa’s hand and then rounded his desk; taking a seat. Again the chair groaned and protested with loud creaks as the Commander settled. He flipped open the file and silently read the report. Bracks didn’t even offer Isa a chair. He simply made her wait. Each turn of a page was preempted by a finger lick so he didn’t miss a thing. But by the last page it was clear that isa didn’t miss a thing either. Her report was solid and factual. Closing the file, Bracks tossed it on his desk haphazardly as though it was yesterday’s paper. There would be no words of appreciation or thanks for the speed in which Isa took to write up the report. The Commander glanced out the office window, deep in thought. Without looking at Isa he simply said….

“Dismissed.”

If Isa left the office without further word, it would only be then that the Commander would watch her go. Once she was well out of ear shot, the Commander picked up the file and tapped the edge to his bottom lip. His eyes narrowed into slits as he pondered, or rather plotted what to do. He needed Frank to be found guilty. He needed to pin a murder on him to appease the men upstairs. But how?

Glancing down at the file in his hands, he simply turned in his chair and dumped the file in the trash bin. Knowing full well that there would be a copy of the file in the forensics, it was going to be one hell of an operation to make it….disappear. Either that…or have something unfortunate happen to Isa.

The Commander eased back in his seat, drumming his fingers together as he mused on what to do. Taking a coin out of his pocket, he turned it over between his fingers before flicking it into the air. The coin spun and spun before coming down to land as the Commander said…“Heads…”

It landed tails side up.

Luck was on Isa’s side.

For now…..

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isa wore a look of complete and utter satisfaction: on the inside. She didn’t let him know how pleased she was with herself, mostly because the more sensible half of her was scared witless. What if he threatened her? Who would even believe her? Much to her surprise, he just read very silently through her report. Almost painfully slow…
He ordered her to exit and by jove she did. No amount of money in the world could have kept Isa in that dingy, pungent office any longer. With a nod of her head, Isa’s feet scrambled from the room and through the maze of desks until she reached the front door. The flash drive with all the information she needed was held tight in her sweating palm and the picture she’d confiscating illegally from the crime scene was burning a hole in her pocket and her character. It was unlike her to be so sneaky, but she’d stepped in a serious shit-pile with this case. If anyone else had been dispatched, the case would probably already be closed with Frank in jail and his cohorts at the bottom of the river.
The air outside caught in her lungs, the smell of cars and hot dogs filling and choking them. Her hands fell to her jacket pockets and the left found a crumpled paper. Pulling it out, her attention drifted down to read it. Frank’s number she’d written from his file. It was only seconds later the phone was ringing. He needed to know just how difficult things were going to be.
Hello?” She whispered, when the ringing ended and a voice broke through the silence.

 

 

The Witness – GS.

 

Scene setting : Fifth and Maple Street.

co-written with VunG.

 

Razorbackwriter:  With Elissa having joined the two gents on the next stop off at Fifth and Maple Street, little did they know that the photographer who had captured the pictures of the slug was home. Sitting in his lounge room, the odd buzz of morning news was in the back ground, while his girlfriend, Patty was getting ready for work. Joey Patona, who Rory and Frank had been staking out the night of Rory’s death was slouched on his favorite lazy boy chair with a cigarette hanging from his bottom lip. On the table beside him was racing guides, a crumpled packet of cigarettes and a long lens camera. He lazily took a drag from his cigarette as Patty stormed into the lounge from their bedroom.

“Joey…when you going to get a real job and help me pay the bills?” Since the court case, Joey had been keeping a low profile, since the prosecution failed in their bid to convict Mob boss James Capoda in the east side Brankston murders. They couldn’t bring Joey in a second time, as the key piece of evidence had been stolen from the police lock up. Joey brought a hand to his temple and rubbed it slightly while Patty finished putting on her day coat. She folded her arms and glared at him, waiting for an answer. “I’m expecting a call any day now, love. Just be patient, okay?” He sounded sincere, and his smile was disarming. Joey was great at using charm when all else failed. Patty on the other hand was losing patience. She’d been working two jobs to keep them from losing their apartment, and the stress was starting to take it’s toll. “Well, If I don’t see you bringing in a paycheck, its over!” Patty snatched up her purse and stormed out the door, leaving Joey to his devices. No sooner had the door closed, he was on the phone….to his bookie.

“Rick….yeah man, its Joey. Put fifty on race 7….number 9. I’m feeling lucky today.”

Pulling up in the alley, Tommy shut off the engine and turned slightly in his seat. Looking back at Elissa and Frank he said. “This is it.” It was it. The murder scene of Rory Lismore. Frank hated coming back here, but what choice did he have. That night played over and over again in his mind and the only way to end the nightmare was to find out if the giant slug….was responsible. Getting out of the car, Frank pulled out the envelope and then spread the pictures over the bonnet of the car. Looking at the images, and then the angle on which they were taken….to see if he could pin point just where the photos had been taken from.

~RB~

 

VunG:  Elissa had to admit, there was something eerie about coming back to this place. She’d stopped off at it sure, in fact if the guys were sharp-eyed they’d see a pot of flowers sitting in one of the corners that she’d left, but besides that there didn’t seem to be anything left of note here. And that was the scary part… it seemed too normal for what happened. She noticed the look on poor Frank’s face, and she made a mental note to keep an eye on him, just in case, but right now it was to business. As she looked at the pictures, she looked at the angle, then walked over to the rough place where the creature had been, looking around with her hands on her hips. She was thinking of this the same way you’d think of an actual rifle shooter, mostly for the purpose of trajectory. Thankfully, it was obvious which direction it was, the trick was just verticality. Walking back to the guys, she pointed at the building she thought it was, though beyond that she wasn’t too certain what height it was at, and could only give a rough guesstimate.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Both Frank and Elissa were of the same mind, when it came to trying to work out where the photographs had been taken from. Sure enough as their line of sight brought them both to the same window, Frank suddenly had a very grim expression. He recognized the building and….the window. It all fell into place. Who else would be so cunning as to send the photographs in an unmarked envelope in the first place, knowing full well what they meant. The stake out of Joey Patona. The very reason that the two detectives had been in the alley in the first place. What with the noise and all that happened, it would have brought Joey to his window. Frank reached up to scratch behind his neck as he turned away for a moment and silently cursed. Tommy watched on, and saw the change in Frank’s demeanor. “You worked it out?” The reporter surprised that the detective was coming up with an idea for who the photographer was.

“Son of a bitch.” The detective replied, shaking his head. “I’m going to need a warrant. I can’t just barge in there and demand that crook to admit to what he saw.”

Tommy chuckled. “Since when have you been totally by the book, Frank. This is about finding out what happened to Rory and clearing your name.” The reporter then smirked at Elissa and uttered. “She was a cop…you’re a cop….and I…could trick the bastard into fessing up. He might be keen to sell a story….and while I am interviewing him, you two burst in and….I don’t know, turn the place over.”

Frank wasn’t too sure about this. Joey had connections to the underworld, though he was on the outer at the moment. The detective had his badge, and his gun on him so there was no reason for him not to try and follow along with Tommy’s idea. The reporter beamed and then straightened his collar. “I’ll go up first, and set this up. You two wait in the hallway till I give the signal and then burst in.”

It was starting to sound like something from a mob film, and Frank was worried that Elissa might not want to be involved. He asked her directly. “I don’t want you in over your head, Elissa. You don’t want in with this, I’ll call in John Moss. Though he probably won’t want to touch this case.”

What would she say?

Tommy had already started off for the entrance to the apartment building.

 

~RB~

 

VunG:  Eventually Elissa and Frank traced the picture, and their gazes both landed on the window responsible… but unlike him she didn’t recognize who it was. However, as Frank mentioned that the person was a crook, she pretty quickly put it together, and she was promptly sighing with frustration and putting her hands on her hips while the men tried to figure out how to handle it. Tommy’s way of handling it had her a little concerned, but she could see things working without it going south. In fact, she could even see a way to do it without things going completely out of control and getting them in trouble, if they were smart about it as a group. This couldn’t just be a unilateral thing, they needed to plan.

Still, she wasn’t about to back down; Tommy was 100% right, they would be able to handle this without issue on a capability level, and they were pretty well backed up against the wall here. Besides, the way things were headed she would be pegged as an accomplice if this went south. No sense going halfway. Besides, she wasn’t unarmed; she had her police-service Beretta 92 AND a tazer both hidden in her jacket (she had a concealed carry license). Yeah, this would work.

Of course, as they began moving in, Frank’s words caught her a bit off-guard. The offer was definitely appreciated, and she made sure to smile and nod her acknowledgement, but she wasn’t backing down. Without any further attempt to communicate her thoughts, she promptly fell into step behind Tommy, flashing Frank a confident grin as she passed. She’d been deprived of this sort of excitement for too long.

However, she had to make one thing clear to Tommy, and would jog up to him to sign, ~If he’s cooperative, don’t call us in. I’m not expecting things to go that smoothly, the guy’s a pile of shit, but just saying.~ Of course, after that she’d fall back into line alongside Frank, glad to have this underway and with something that wasn’t a rough dead end.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Tommy stopped dead when Elissa came up alongside him and signed that if Joey was cooperative to not call the pair in as back up. The reporter understood exactly what she was conveying and gave her shoulder a small squeeze. “Don’t worry. I won’t call you in unless absolutely necessary.” Frank of course heard the exchange and adjusted his jacket slightly. He was ready for anything, and knew this could quickly go south, since Joey was known to be a bit of a hot head and unpredictable. Giving his companions a small salute, Tommy headed inside the entrance to the apartment building and left the other two to their devices.

The apartment building was the kind that should be condemned. Not only did it smell rank of curry, you could see rats out in the open scurrying along the walls. Tommy shuddered as he headed up the stairs. The lift was out of commission. Going round and round, he finally reached Joey’s floor. Working out the apartment from the window placement on the outside of the building, Tommy went over to room #339 and then knocked on the door.

Inside, Joey was watching the races on his TV set, when he heard the knocking. Thinking it might be someone that was coming to hit him up for money, since he owed his creditors and a few drug dealers, he picked up his baseball bat and approached the door. “Who is it?!” He yelled through the door, only to peek through the peek hole and see the well dressed Tommy standing there. He didn’t look like he was from the mob, due to his racial features. Thinking this was odd, he waited for Tommy to reply. “Tommy Xo….I’m a reporter and looking to buy your story about the court case. Everyone knows you were set up and I am willing to pay…..$5000 for the scoop.”

The moment that Tommy offered money, Joey’s eyes lit up. Five thousand sure could get him out of a bind and shut up his old lady. He set down the bat carefully and undid the locks, opening the door. Tommy was ready, holding out his press club pass to show he was legit. “Hey hey buddy. Won’t you come in?’ Joey stepped back to let Tommy into his apartment, which was a real dump no matter how hard Patty worked to keep it neat. Joey was a slob. He even had food stains on his shirt. Tommy entered the apartment, and took out a cigarette so as to look like he wasn’t nervous about being in a mobster’s home.

“Thanks. Mind if I smoke?” He asked, gesturing with the unlit cigarette in his hand. Joey was quick to offer an ashtray that was buried under a stack of racing forms. It was pretty clear that Joey was a gambler, what with the racing on the telly and the guides. Tommy took out his zippo lighter and lit up, letting out a puff of smoke, before continuing. He noticed the camera too on the side table, and then off the cuff asked. “You do photography?” It was an off the cuff question, but he had his reasons. Joey shrugged and then replied. “If I got something interesting to take a photo of. I do some photography work for the porn industry. Have my own dark room.” Joey was starting to relax a little and this was just what Tommy had hoped for. “Nice hobby. Does it make much?” Now Tommy was starting to delve a little deeper and this was when Joey blurted out a significant sentence. “I’m hoping it will. Took some snaps that might interest a certain detective. Blew my mind when I had them developed. Course….no one is going to believe it. Perhaps the coppa. So…you wanna talk about that murder case? I’m keen to make a bit of money.”

“Sure thing. Mind if I open a window? Need some fresh air.” Tommy asked, heading to the window to give the signal for the other two to come up to the apartment.

~RB~