dead pulse

Dead pulse- chapter 2 part 2

The air stopped dead, and a moment of empty silence filled Sickleton park. Nobody can stand this sort of silence. It was the consuming sort, that seemed to eat away the life and the bustling activities that came with it. There was almost a sense of mourning for her. Who ever she was. 

Heads bowed, and feet shifted uneasily and quietly, afraid to break the stillness.  

Cole slowly withdrew her hand, placing it upon her knee. She too bowed her head, as a small sign of respect to the loss of a life.  

And there she lay, a fallen angel, wrapped in black. Her face was pale as the snow that fluttered down and landed on it, speckling it lightly. Her synthetically coloured purple-black hair was half buried under the snow, and the full length wasn't visible. The silky black dress was speckled and soaked from the snow it had been concealed under, and her arms were spread out as if awaiting embrace, welcoming death but way too soon. Death had not objected. . Her head tilted upward toward the large willow which hung a few metres from her. With her high, perfectly sculpted cheekbones, she could almost have been beautiful...If it were not for the wide open, glazed grey eyes, the lips, almost as purple as her hair, the translucence of her dead flesh, the strings of blueish veins visible through the waxy skin...

And the fact that she looked... Afraid.

"It's not possible" Cole murmured, leaning back slightly. She still felt a slight heaviness upon her chest as she breathed out a cloud of white. This part of her job... Was the part she hated. And yet it was the part that she loved most. The promise of crime scenes and hunting down more than just a petty thief, the excitement of the chase, the cat after the tiger. It had that kick that she hated to admit. The familiar elevation, almost a high, which almost came with the danger in life that she craved. The danger that had got her mentor, Mark, killed.  

It was every cop's downside, that danger and peril became a fixation, almost a drug that had to be satisfied.

"Dead bodies cannot hold expression. You're just being paranoid. Muscles too relaxed."

Ashe glanced up at her, momentarily hypnotised by the eerie beauty of the dead woman. 

She could see that something was on Cole's mind. Her eyes betrayed her, as usual. She looked torn. Ashe wanted to say something, but knew it wasn't worth it. Cole would deny any problem, just as she had on Ashe's query on her insomnia. She got angry. Ashe didn't blame her at all though. If there wasn't a problem, she would've never got mad. And pounded her forehead with that pale, graze - knuckled fist, rubbed her temples in frustration, and left the room. 

The body fascinated her. She couldn't for her life explain why, but it brought some sort of curiosity, about death. This was it. End of the line. The decay process would set in, the microbes would eat at the dead flesh, and she would be gone. The body was a shell, no longer in use. The real girl was long gone. Ashe didn't know where, and it was bloody confusing to think about, but just... Gone.

"better check her. For some sort of I.D" She said roughly, unzipping her coat. She grabbed some latex gloves from the inside pocket, and slipped them on to her hands. She patted down the woman's dress for pockets, a bag, anything. No pockets. No bag.  

"Helpful" She sighed. "Guys, get over here" 

The forensic scientists seemed to have been knocked out of their momentary trance by her demand, and hurried over, kneeling beside the body. 

"No I.D then?" One asked unhelpfully. He had blonde cropped hair and blue eyes, which contrasted oddly with his olive skin. 

"None that I can find" Ashe said, and struck his shoulder in frustration. He flinched, but grinned behind a gloved hand at her annoyance.