Dream Genocide

Shock Therapy

"Not how you thought you'd be spending your Friday night, huh Bryan?"

Two policemen, conversing among themselves, stood bored in the alley opening. The craze of the last hour or so had now begun to die down. The crime scene itself was tucked away in a corner alleyway, large enough for half a dozen dumpsters and a clutter of scattered debris. In stark contrast to the grime of the city streets, a pearl white sheet lay alongside the building, with the human figure underneath giving it a curved appearance. The rushing medical personnel had now calmed and gathered around their nearby ambulance van. Caution tape surrounded the grisly square and blew softly from the occasional wind.

Pulling sharply at his gloved fingers and approaching the officers, the ambulance EMT shook his head. "Shame we couldn't get her to hold on a bit longer."

"Anyone suspicious spotted near the body? Or was there anything out of the ordinary?" Officer Nick inquired, glancing back at the white sheet.

"Well, the call came in anonymously. Some guy saying he saw her stumble down the alley. No idea who it was. Only person nearby was ol' crazy Earl on his typical street corner, who you two have already talked with."

"Yeah," Officer Nick replied. "He was rambling on like usual. Couldn't understand anything he was saying. He's crazy and harmless. Doubt he's a suspect involved in this, and he certainly wouldn't make a good witness at a trial either."

"How was she when you arrived here? Did she say anything of importance?" Officer Bryan asked, his hand flipping his well-worn notebook open.

"Nothing at all. Just sudden gasps of breath. A single stab wound was in her abdomen. We eventually managed to control the bleeding, but she's been unresponsive since. No pulse, no breathing. She was right on the brink of life...." His eyes lost focus, staring out into the blurry policeman's face, like a war torn survivor who'd seen his share of misery. "We almost had her."

"You can't control fate, son. You did what you could." Officer Nick responded, as Brian nodded in agreement. "We'll let you know when you can transport her out of here. Detective Blair should be here any minute. In the meantime, relax. Take a breather for a few minutes."

"Appreciate it, guys. Thanks." the EMT replied, walking back towards the group around the ambulance.

"A single stab wound doesn't match the MO of the other victims, but everything else seems like a match so far." Nick retorted. "Hopefully Blair can find what we need. I don't like serial killers prowling in my city."

Approaching the body again, Officer Nick knelt down and threw back a portion of the sheet, exposing the woman's face. "She can't be a day over 30." Brian examined. "And she looks just like the other victims. Curly blond hair, small nose. Same complexion. They could've been long lost sisters for all we know, they look so similar."

They waited in silence. The brick wall she lay beside seemed too rough a backdrop for her last moments. Upon closer inspection, amidst the cracked bricks and old spider webs, a small peculiar drawing of graffiti began to stick out. "Hey Brian, what do you make of this?"

Officer Brian inched closer to the wall, examining the detailed writing. "That's a bizarre red paint to write out whatever that is."

"Can you make it out?"

"Hmm.....It says... "

He brought his finger to each letter, methodically tracing the words together.

"Is there..."

"Is there anything like sneaking up on a few old cops?" Brian and Nick turned around in shock, face to face with the newly arrived Detective Blair and runner boy Collin.

"Jeez Blair, you can't be startling me like that. I'm not as young as I once was." Brian chuckled, before stepping aside away from the body. "She's all yours."

Kneeling down, Blair got to work. He unraveled complicated wires, set aside the odd headset, and lightly flicked at the clear syringes. Inserting one wire into the blood stream of his wrist, he reached out delicately for the slain woman's arm. The weight of the cold, heavy appendage was all too familiar to him. He had worked on hundreds of cases, accessed countless minds, but he never quite got used to handling the bodies. He inserted the wire with precision, guiding it in until the clear tube turned a dark velvet crimson.

Next, he gently lifted up her head, her hair running through his fingers as he placed the headset atop her. He turned various knobs and switches, adjusting it to her size and shape. He was nearly distracted from ensuring the device sat squarely on her temples, as her gaze stared up at him. Her ocean blue eyes, lifeless and still, faking the sense that she was truly seeing. Feeling uneasy, he finished his adjustments, before setting her head down again with care.

"I should only be maybe an hour or so at the most." Blair said, as he fixed the second headset onto himself. "Prepare for an onslaught of notes when I return. The truth can only linger fresh in my mind for so long."

"And when you do find the truth, we get every cop within 10 miles of this place on this perp's trail." Officer Nick responded, a sting of commitment in his statement.

Sitting up against the brick building, and within arm's reach of the victim, Blair pulled his Memory Box into his lap, switching it on. "See you in an hour, gents." he stated, flipping the switch of the box and closing his eyes.

Time seemed to slow. The dreary brown and black of the alley gave way to vibrant greens and spreading trails of blue. Stars streamed into view, shooting and screaming through him in a vast tunnel of light. A kaleidoscope of sharp, yet distorted images shimmered and shook about his vision. In a violent whirlwind of flames and data streams, Blair's vision came to a sudden halt. With a thud, he came to, his body laying on a rickety wooden floor. Picking himself up and gathering his senses, he found himself in what looked to be a small, darkened room.

Painted flower petals covered the walls, and a small child sized bed sat in the corner. Before he could bring himself to his feet, a voice echoed through the hallway outside the room's door. Loud thumps of noise followed.

Fading from view into the darkness of the room, his back hugged against the wall; embracing the shadows as the door swung open.

He was not alone.