The Forgotten One

The Crime Scene: Adrian Snow

The detective opens the door of the car, and senses the humid atmosphere coming out of his vehicle. He lays the file on the passenger seat next to him. Adrian sat in the car, thinking on what to do, on how to prove his remark. Then suddenly a thought came up, the crime scene. He starts the ignition of his car and headed to the site. The incident had occurred a mile off the Red Canyon in the midst of the forest. It was a long drive, from the hospital, about a hour and a half. The sun is sweltering hot, its rays of heat pass through the windows and touch Adrian’s skin. Sweat pours through his face, slithering down his cheeks. Even the air conditioner seems to be broken at such warmth. He rolled down the windows, for some breeze to chill his skin, but nothing came by. The drive was smooth, and there was no other car in the way. The road to this place seems never ending, until some trees could be seen. The forest was bundled up with trees, green and tall they were. These trees reached the sky, as their arms stretched out and formed a small bridge with the arms of the other trees.

A darkness befalls over the detective’s car, as it goes inside the forest maze. The shade created by these trees was so strong that not even the tiniest light could be seen. The car goes through a series of twisted, snake-like paths until it arrived at its destination. Not much could be seen of the aftermath, because the car was dragged away by a tow truck, the same day of the incident. The detective parks the car at some distance from what had been left of the unlikely event. He walks in the direction of the occurrence. He passes some broken branches and burnt bushes. He sees what seemed to be like a giant shadow, yet it was a straight mound of ash, glass and branches. The detective crouches and takes a handful of the ash in his hand, and moves his hand in a slanted position, causing the ash to rain over the mound. It gave the impression of a fine black powder. He stood up, and carefully watches the surroundings, looking for anything suspicious, out of the ordinary. He looks over the bushes and trees covering the site. Even the detective didn’t know what to look for, what could prove his comment to the doctor. He remembered watching the car, it looked like a total wreck, the bodies inside had been cooked up, turning into a color of black coal. The bodies were so burnt, that it couldn’t be identified if they were the bodies or it was a part of the vehicle.

The detective stood there for a moment, watching the scene, imagining the crash in third person. As the car turned, rolled and crashed against the tree in front of him. Wylie coming out of the car, calling for help, and entering the car. A certain fire growing out of the side of the car and consuming the vehicle, while Wylie falls unconscious a few meters away. He knew something just didn’t make sense, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.  He thought it was futile staying here, when he hears a crunching noise. He gazes down, at his feet, and observes an object burnt. He backed his foot and bent to see the object, it was small, it was a little far from the initial point of the fire. He couldn’t make up of what it was, so he took a plastic bag out of his pocket and inserted the item in it. He took the bag and put it back in his coat pocket. He walks over the road toward the car, and enters it. He drove toward the department, which was even farther than before, approximately a journey of three hours. He looks through the window as he left the dark forest, as he went further, he could see gray clouds forming over the sky. A cold breeze swept through the car. The files beside him trembled to the strong gust of wind and then it happened… He was passing over a small bridge, when...

The files soared and flew off the window, they went as a flock of birds. The detective’s car’s tires screeched with brute force, and he rapidly opened the car door, and ran behind. Then, he stopped, it was too late. The papers had flown toward a river, landed on it, soaked its water and sank to its depths. Three pages had landed on the road, but he had lost a lot. He picks them up and sees the river again, watching his loss. He walks over to his car and sits inside. He manually rolls the windows up, to close them. He looked over the papers, and checked them thoroughly. His eyes widened, for what he saw was indescribable, he had discovered what he sought for so much time. Was it a random occurrence or a force much more stronger that lurks behind the darkness?