Bodies Cause Murder

Chapter 1

"There are moments when, even to the sober eye of reason, the world of our sad humanity may assume the semblance of a Hell."
-Edgar Allen Poe

Mar 5th, 2019
California, the City of Lost Angels
The Cabana Suite in a high-end hotel.

A grim scene welcomed Inspector Dwight Becker as he entered the suite, the smell had hit him as he got off the elevator, he knew exactly what he was in for before he saw the carnage. Gritting his teeth to fight back the urge to retch, he approached the forensics team. The inspector was an average statured man in his late 30's, though the wrinkles of stress and a bad diet made him look 10 years older. Five o'clock shadow had claimed a permanent home on his broad jaw line, his eyes hung heavy with lack of sleep and his teeth were a permanent yellow hue that only came from years of heavy smoking and drinking. The hangover he was only able to lessen with a hair-of-the-dog only amplified his current irritation from being called in at three in the morning, but the details of this particular case was what gave him a small adrenaline rush. The folder holding all the details of previous crime scenes like this one seemed to like its spot on his desk, enough that it has sat there for nearly 3 years only getting fatter. Dwight Becker kept telling himself that he was getting closer, he could all but feel that he was near the end of this investigation.
Blood coated nearly everything, from the soft shag carpeting to the walls, even splattered on the ceiling and dripping down. Anyone entering the suite had to gown up in full personal protective equipment, to the point that some of the forensics crew looked like they were wearing hazmat suits. It was a scene Dwight had seen before, as gruesome as it was, this scene was almost identical and just as unsettling as the last nine. In almost three years there were nine scenes just like this one, marking this as the tenth in a serial killer saga with a level of brutality never seen before. Dwight looked at the lead forensics member with tired eyes.
"What do you have for me?" He asked the same tired line expecting the same thing to be said but hoping for a lead he could go on.
"Well, the room was rented out by some up and coming rock star, he registered under the name Bobby Orion. Apparently, there were three others that were supposed to be staying in this room with him. We are assuming they were part of his band, but we will not know who all was in this room until the manager shows us the security footage. We're still gathering evidence, but it's a nightmare as far as DNA, the only things we have that could be a decent identifier for individuals are the a few used condoms not covered in blood. The condoms are also a particularly good indicator that they had at least a few female companions, as to whether or not they're still here, we do not know. Outside of that, it's a fairly typical rock star's hotel room, liquor bottles everywhere, some blow was identified on the kitchenette counter next to a small bowl of pills. They were of varying types, but the usual suspects were easily identified, Vallum, Ecstasy, Adderall, among others. Other drugs and paraphernalia were found on the coffee table in the center of the room, but have not been identified yet, due to the blood covering almost ninety percent of the room."
Dwight nodded, but it was still too early to tell if any of this would be useful in his investigation. He walked around the room, careful not to step on anything vital, and avoiding where the forensics team was working. Pieces of human flesh was scattered all over the place, it looked like the bodies had exploded, some of them were the size of a dinner plate and only got smaller from there. Shreds of muscle and sinew, fragments of bone with flesh still hanging off, skin and organs mixed in the blood like a human soup. Just like the other scenes, the method used to leave a body in this state is a large part of the mystery, Dwight often wondered what exactly he was dealing with here. Three years ago, it was a scene just like this one, the first time he had ever thrown up on the job, the first in a string of killings yet unsolved. The mutilation was extreme, it always took place indoors, usually a hotel room, except for one. About ten months back, this kind of crime scene was discovered on a secluded section of the Santa Monica State Beach. It was believed to be a copycat, but it was too perfect, and went unsolved.
"Investigator Becker?" Dwight had been standing in a nearly untouched part of the room, staring out into the past, trying to put the pieces together. He looked up at his name being used automatically but didn't comprehend the words being spoken to him. A woman stood before him, like everyone else, she was dressed in full PPE. She stared at him grimly, he could only assume she was trying to hold back her bile just like the rest of them, but she seemed to be failing rapidly.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I was lost in thought. How about we step outside the suite so we can chat?" She nodded and he led her out of the room, where they removed their PPE, and headed down the hall until the smell was not as overpowering.
"Now, what was that you were saying to me in there?" She was about four inches shorter than Dwight, despite wearing six-inch heels. An odd choice for someone visiting a crime scene, but her choice in footwear cemented the fact that she wasn't a part of the investigation team. She didn't have any recording equipment and didn't seem to be a part of a news outlet, which begged the question, what the hell was she doing here? Which also left Dwight wondering what bonehead helped her don the PPE and let her past the tape in the first place.
"I was mostly introducing myself before, Inspector. I'm Vanessa Daughtery, I work for the Juniper Lee Science and Research Facility." She said with a slight smile, "I have taken a particular interest in your investigation into these murders as part of my research. I was hoping you wouldn't mind indulging me with a few specifics."
Dwight laughed, "Let me stop you there, I'm not authorized to give out any specifics at this time to anyone but my superiors. It is an ongoing investigation after all. I don't know who let you up here let alone let you anywhere near my crime scene, but I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave." Without waiting for her response, Dwight waved down an officer and had him escort miss Daughtery to the elevator, hoping that would be the end of it. He ignored her protests and walked back into the nightmare suite.