Non Compos Mentis - A Science Fantasy Short Story

Non Compos Mentis - A Science Fantasy Story

Inspector Gomez loosened the collar of his suit, took a sip of his take-away coffee, and glanced at the folder on the desk.

"Akshy Nazel. Half-elf; human father, elven mother. Has been working with the Veletherien Conglomerate for eight years as a special investigator. Lives alone, has no surviving family. Is moderately successful, does not have a particularly interesting past. Except..."

Gomez sighed. The interrogation room looked as bleak as always. Clinically white walls and a white, featureless door. Bright lighting. A pale metallic desk with two foldable chairs. And, of course, the suspect, who was seated on the opposite side of the table, his eyes gleaming in the artificial light of the room. The suspect, Akshy, slowly moved his right hand and brushed his white hair backwards. His features were stone, and a permanent scowl was carved upon his face.

Gomez could feel a migraine coming through, but all he had to do was to power through this interrogation and then he could finally leave the 62nd precinct for some time.

"Mr Nazel. Accused of murder and treason against the high council of Tirion Prime. I'm sure my associates have been bombarding you with questions so I assume it won't be a problem if I'll ask you a few questions as well."

Akshy nodded and grunted a response.

"I have some notes here. They're telling me you suffer from, uh, Chlamydophilae lycanthropus. Acute virulent lycanthropy."

Another nod, another affirming grunt.

"Symptoms include acute hypertrichosis, hyper-aggression, delusion, auditory and visual hallucinations, amnesia, seemingly superhuman strength and endurance... and so on and so forth."

"Listen, inspector, I thank you for the lesson in medicine, but I fail to see how this is related to the case at hand. Also, I believe that it is mentioned in those records of yours that I've been on Argentum Nitrate suppressants for the past decade or so. Ever since I got the disease."

"That's correct. Now I'm not saying that you've had, uh, an episode and done what you're accused of. However, there is a mark on your official records. Says when you got the disease, you had a fairly severe episode. It's an official inspection, so we need to have as much information as possible," Gomez concluded and gave Akshy a slightly apologetic smile.

"Why don't you tell me about what happened? I see that your sentence included the rule of non compos mentis."

This time, it was Akshy who sighed. He reached for a small glass of water on the metallic desk, and drank slowly.

"Right," Akshy muttered, and scratched his cheek.

"You know how it feels when you drink all night and wake up the next morning?"

Gomez nodded in response, and wasn't entirely pleased by the sardonic smile on Akshy's face.

"Waking up after an episode is kind of like that. But worse. The old fairy-tales my parents read to me years ago never quite captured how much it hurts after you turn. So, you wake up. You feel like garbage, and for a good reason: last night your body more or less disassembled and rebuilt itself for a few hours. Then did it again. Then you notice the blood. Then you start getting small flashes of the previous night, but never anything complete. You're taken in, you're examined for hours, if you're lucky, maybe you'll see some videos of a- a thing running around, wrecking shit, killing folk. But you never quite feel like that's you, you know? It feels like you're watching a shitty B-movie. Even in the courtroom. Even during the sentencing. You have no idea what you did, how you did it or why."

Gomez exhaled slowly.

"Then you're given a bunch of drugs, and told to eat them for the rest of your life. And that if you slip up even once, you might just freak the fuck out and go crazy again. And there's no cure, so you're stuck with it for the rest of your life. Sucks to be you or anyone around you, especially if you're one of the folk that live long."

Gomez nodded in response, and for a moment he was glad that his precinct had not dealt with lycanthropes in nearly a decade. But in the underbelly of Tirion Prime, disease was rampant, which is why it was not entirely uncommon for a law enforcer to contract one of the more dangerous illnesses, even though lycanthropy was one of the rarer ones, since it mostly affected the surroundings of the infected rather than being just lethal. Some of the elven houses did claim to be more or less immune to most disease, but Gomez believed it was a myth, much like True Magic.

Gomez was quickly interrupted by Akshy, who cleared his throat. "Anything else here or are we done?"

"I got a few more questions, bear with me," Gomez said, and took out his data pad from his pocket.

After a moment of silence during which Gomez accessed the Tirion Prime Police Department database, the inspector asked: "So did they ever figure out who gave you the disease? Was he caught as well?"

Akshy waved his hand dismissively. "Nah. It was just some street punk. Can't remember. Frankly, I don't remember ever seeing a werewolf, but I was told that transformed or not, their blood and spit still carries the disease. So, uh. It could've been anyone, I reckon."

Gomez scribbled down notes onto his data pad and nodded twice.

"Right. I think that's enough for today. Thanks for cooperating with us, Investigator Nazel."

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Author's notes: 

Hey! Thanks for checking out this brief short story! I'd like to kindly ask you to vote and/or comment if you liked the story or if you have anything you'd like to ask or share with me.

Friendly yours,

Alex