Pseudosapien

Process

He was currently in the middle of berating himself for admiring the cleanliness of the cuts. It was almost as though the person had used a katana in short, swift strikes. The jaw, however, had been sawed off and it had been the first to go.

The other problem was how little he had to work with. His organs had been removed and destroyed and the amount of blood in his system was maybe enough for one blood test.

"What the Hell did you do to have this guy fuck you up so bad? Was it because you were a larger target or to cover up evidence?" At this point, it was likely that the evidence the missing organs and blood held were either being used as trophies or disposed of...and probably tainted.

As he worked his mind drifted back to Mason Christner and the strange likeness to Anemone that he felt when he saw him. Not in their looks but in their person; their presence. While mulling it over to decide how to describe said presence, he had concluded that it was 'silently ferocious and potentially homicidal'.

"Is that what happened, Mr. Whatever your name is? Was it your so-called lover Mr. Christner? Not to judge, but he seemed rather straight to me. Not to try forcing you into a game of Clue or anything, but I really do want to know who did this to you and who has been doing all this to so many like you. Was it my antisocial yet desirable friend, Dr. Young? Were you the man she was dating up until she had somehow gained your trust enough for you to turn your back on her so she could get back at you for something you did? Did she poison you and cover it up by sucking you dry and removing your organs?" As he rambled on, he wondered in the back of his busy mind if he'd be bothered by such a thing.

Anemone Young, inspiring serial killer and cannibal of sorts...without the eating of flesh part and a whole lot more killing.

Sure she got along with him but that wasn't really saying much with how solitude seeking he often was (just look at his job). Going back to the day he first caught sight of her, it would be easy to surmise she had just killed someone she had been quite fond of. In fact, it all fit so perfectly that it would be odd for her to not be the one behind it all or somehow linked.

If his hypothesis was correct...then where did Mason fit in? Was he really this guy's lover?

"Only time I ever hate working with dead people. Not even verbal answers when their bodies are silent. No offense, Mr. Whatever your name is." Maybe he could find a way to casually bring up the topic.

The mere idea made him nearly gag on his laughter.

"Yeah, right. Like I could walk up to her and just say 'Hey, so I was doing an autopsy on a guy the other day and I thought of you. Are you the person that's been killing all these homicidal people lately? I wouldn't mind or anything. You keep my salary intact.'" Then he shook his head.

No, just no.

Why did it all make so much sense, then? Her easy going reactions to the things they spoke about when his work came up could just be blamed on the characters she'd come across before, in the form of clients.

"Would she be okay with me knowing or suspecting it?" He looked back at the head of the dead man.

"Why did she fuck you up so badly? Was she that hungry to finish you off? Maybe it was Mason...why does only part of me want it to be him?"

Maybe it was because it would make being her friend...or more even more beneficial than it already is. His only worry was falling for her and later find out she's the type of killer that has no feelings and can only act them out to blend in with the rest of society.

"This is much too deep and irrelevant a train of thought during an autopsy." He mumbled begrudgingly before forcing himself to focus.

"Cause of death is exsanguinations; blood almost completely drained from the body and body parts severed." The autopsy went quicker than most what with the lack of organs and blood. What kind of person had this much time on their hands?

Annie did...she also had the patience.

When he stepped out of the building, he exhaled a sigh a relief and checked his watch.

"That bad, huh?" His skin nearly leapt off his bones at the sudden sound that seemed to emanate from thin air; goose bumps prickled their way up and around his heart and skin as he turned to her. Anemone was there, perched on a conveniently placed bench.

"Something like that. What about you? You look as if you're ready to go back to bed already."

"I got to leave early because I was attacked by a client." She mumbled, showing him a small scratch on her arm.

"Don't know why they made such a fuss. It's just a scratch. I waited until you clocked out because I know you'll cheer me up somehow." He smiled at her.

"No Emmanuelle?" He jested and she huffed at him and crossed her arms.

"I decided to give him up. He's no fun." She pouted rather childishly.

"Something happen?"

"No, I just put everything together. If I'm intimidated by the guy in all his fanciness...why date him?"

Why not kill him instead?

"That's true. Come on let's find you some donuts with a brand name that hasn't gone out of business yet."

"That's a good start."

"Homemade coffee too."

"Way to make me feel like a stereotyped member of our authoritative branch." She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as they walked.

"I met someone today." Garth started after a short pause.

"Oh? Dead someone on a slab or an alive someone?"

"Alive." He chuckled as he watched her eyes latch onto him, curiously.

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"A girl someone?" Anemone's eyes gleamed with a teasing glint as a smile wafted across her face. The sight made his chest clench.

"No, it was a guy claiming to have been his lover. You know that person that makes sure who died is who we think he was? His name was Mason Christener." The smile faltered. Garth wondered if that was enough to give him confirmation.

"Does that mean you're testing the opposite field? I wouldn't mind, you know. You'd make a great gay guy." Annie deflected.

He knew that saying something would just make it worse so he decided that something physical would work better.

So he pinched her butt and she gasped before laughing.

"I'll do it again if you don't take it back." He grinned. Garth pondered about whether or not he'd been friendzoned because he didn't do things that made her see him as a man and pinching a woman's behind was not a common thing he did.

"Okay, I'm sorry for suggesting you were going homosexual on me." She chortled whole humouredly.

"Can I pinch you again anyway?"

"No."

"Grab?"

"No, you're supposed to be cheering me up not feeling me up."

"Can you blame a guy for trying?"

"I could, but I won't." Garth realized that today wasn't the best to try and ask her about her being behind all the murders going on.

Plus, he still had a lot to prepare for... like how he would feel about it if she was. What with her helping him along with money and him liking her since the day they actually met, which was a few months ago. His biggest worry was that he didn't mind her being responsible.

If anything, it made him more interested. He shook his head.

This is why he had a therapist.