Happenstance

Things I Hate: Mondays, Morning, Mayhem

Mondays are bad enough but being woken up by the department, calling for a morning walk to a crime scene? That's just cruel.

Which is why I'm rushing out of the apartment. I yanked my mid length-hair into a hasty ponytail and double checked my entire outfit, which simply consisted of a pale blue button-up shirt tucked into my cream-colored trousers, last night's embarrassment still lingered in my mind as I descended down the stairs and started to walk past my car.

Now, why am I not getting in my car? You may ask. Who needs a car when you are merely few feet away from your destination? more likely, when the said destination is right next to your apartment, just to make your work more convenient? Well, time to sleep with my windows and doors tight closed.

There is this abandoned school here, with high walls restricting the passerby from getting a glimpse of its mysteries and secrets. I'd always been curious about the abandoned school behind those ridiculously high walls. But I never expected my silly curiosity would be solved in the most unsettling way- as an unsolved crime scene. As if the abandoned school didn't give enough haunted vibes already. How thrilling!!

The morning rays warmed my skin, peeking shyly through the canopy of branches, creating a pleasant contrast from the freezing temperature of the morning. By the time I reached the school gates, the locals were already littered around the crime scene, trying to get a glimpse of the horror that shattered their haven, this safe town. Despite the warm weather, the unsettling loneliness that loomed the school grounds evoked a sense of melancholy in me.

I made my way past them and entered the school gates, where I was immediately greeted by the ancient trees lining up the abandoned school grounds which was covered in a carpet of crunchy leaves. The architecture of the building stood out, with weathered stones set atop of stones, joined by rough, white painted concrete. The building exuded a vintage charm; though the creaky window sills and the cracks on the concrete revealed the abandonment of the building. However, the serene atmosphere was ruined by yellow police tapes decorating the withered shed, on the right hand side of the entrance and forensic experts, hurrying to collect all the possible evidences.

I made my way towards the withered shed, ignoring the commotion at the entrance. Ducking under the tapes, I entered the shed. The first thing that caught my eyes was the relaxed figure of a woman sitting on a chair, seemed to be asleep at first glance. However her pale complexion and parched lips indicated the truth. That is the victim.

And another thing that caught my attention was the officer present in the shed. There stood the Detective Sergeant Jules, examining the wreckage of what used to be a watchman shed for any overlooked clues. He looked over his shoulder from hearing my footsteps.

"Check the victim for any evidence of struggle, Detective Edwards,'' he instructed shortly and went back to powder coat the objects, his gloved hands meticulously dusted the crime scene, looking for fingerprints.

Everyone seemed to be in a hurry. Though I didn't understand why, I still got into work quickly. The dampened wooden floor creaked under the rubber soles of my shoes. I donned up my own gloves as I neared the lifeless body of the young woman sat on a chair and pulled out a pocket-sized journal from my trouser pocket to jot down important details.

The victim was a young woman. Her outfit was rather casual; a warm cinnamon coloured button-down wrapped her body over her fitted brown tank top paired with washed out jeans and flats. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun and a pair of plain studs adorned her ears. From the brief information I was given on the phone call, she's a native of this town and the school security found her dead by the dawn.

What unsettled me was the calmness of the murder. There is no obvious sign of struggle that can possibly explain the cause of death. I would have believed this was a natural death if it wasn't for this suspicious location. I mean, why would she come to this isolated, abandoned place and chill on a dusty chair in the first place?

In conclusion, her death is anything but natural.

My question was soon answered when I noticed the crease on her shirt's back collar and the bruise on the back of her neck. A small, red puncture wound surrounded by a faint ring of inflammation was seen on the otherwise unmarked skin on the back of the victim's neck.

'So that's the cuase. Someone grabbed her by her back collar and the puncture wound? Maybe an injection?' I quietly noted down the details as I contemplated the possibilities.

I approached the Sergeant to convey my observations, but was promptly stopped by a wrenched cry of a woman echoing through the abandoned grounds,

''Let me see my daughter!'' The victim's mother cried out, not able to digest the lose of her daughter.

This small town, where everyone knew everyone, didn't need any official channels to give out instructions. I was quite overwhelmed by the bonding shared between the town civilians, after all, this is my first time working in a place where whispers and gossips traveled faster than officials reports. Now I finally understand the urgency of other officers. I can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the victim's family.

The commotion was, however, swiftly handled by Inspector Grace. She's a native of this town, her years of experience was threaded with the intricately woven knowledge of the complexities and the past hurdles faced by this town. Her roots ran deep within these neighbourhood where she grew up and now served.

While the Inspector and the uniformed officers contained the disturbance, we quickened our pace to secure the crime scene.

__________________________

This is weird. The usual relaxed setting and camaraderie of the station disappeared into thin air, everyone's face wore a frown, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I was unnerved by the sudden seriousness. Ever since I started my career, my work was dominated by tireless amount of paperworks opposed to what I'm being faced now. The Inspector fielded calls from the city police and the officers were busy with their respective aspect of the case.

And me? Following Detective Ramos like a lost puppy. I mean, I was supposed to review the case file with her but then this professional lady started to assist other officers and I'm now just following her around, feeling damn lost. She wore a professional look with her neatly ironed out shirt and blazer accompanied by khaki slacks and loafers. Her id tag was pinned onto her blazer and hair tied up in a bun. She looked what a textbook detective would look like, whereas I looked like a crumpled chocolate wrapper. I even forgot my jacket from the rush. Shit, talk about being professional.

''Here, Ellile, review these files on your own. I'm heading to the morgue. I'll be unavailable till evening,'' she finally said, acknowledging my presence, ''go through the details of the informants we'll enquire tomorrow'' she concluded as she made her way out of the station with fast strides.

At least, she could have told me that to earlier. Well, today's going to be a long day.

___________________

So here. The second chapter. I'll probably release the next chap after decades. Thanks for staying. Love y'all. Byeeee