Coffee In The Morning

What the-

A motorcycle engine died as Bex pulled up to the morgue. The late November wind made a leaf tornado and she smiled, amused at the sight. After putting down the kick stand, she pulled off her helmet and flung her long, black hair back in a theatrical fashion. No one was around to judge her, so why not? She placed he helmet on her seat and walked towards the door, her stiletto heels clacking on the concrete. The wind struck again, sending chills down her spine and making her nose sting slightly. She pulled up the collar of her leather jacket, hoping to make the west Texas wind more bearable.  She pulled open the door as she arrived, and jumped and screamed as a skeleton fell on her.

Bex flailed her arms as she heard a cackle to her right. “Did Franklin scare you?” a raspy voice asked. She shoved the mass of bones to the side, “It’s a little late to have your Halloween decorations out, isn’t it?”  Bex huffed, annoyed she had been startled so easily. “My dear, every day is Halloween. Plus, Franklin doesn’t like being cooped up in his box.” She looked up, and there was the morgue owner, she assumed. He was creepy, to say the least. Yellow teeth peeked out behind cracked lips as he smiled at her. White hair fell over his scarred face, and black eyes shone with amusement. His lanky figure, draped in black, slithered to her.

Bex cleared her throat, pulled on the ends of her jacket, and stuck her hand out to him. “Hello, I’m Rebecca.” She didn’t use her street name during business, unless she was doing business for friends. He took her hand, and pulled it to his face to sniff it. Her eyes widened and she wasn’t sure what to say. “You need to eat more veggies.” Still unsure of what to say, Bex pulled her hand back and asked, “Is there a different time I can come back? You know, when a different person is here…”

“Oh no, there’s just me. Well, me and Fredrick. And the rest of the dead here,” he began to walk away and then suddenly turned around, “and call me the Undertaker,” and went on his way again. “How pleasant,” Bex said hesitantly following him. Though this man was strange, and this place was eerie, she wasn’t getting any dangerous vibes from anything, so she continued with confidence. Heading down a dim hallway, The Undertaker made a sharp turn to the right and entered a room only lit by a flickering fluorescent bulb. Bex followed, annoyed at the lack of maintenance given to the building.

“So, why did you want to come again?” The Undertaker inquired as he pulled a body out of the wall.

“None of your business.”

He cackled, “You have spunk, how nice.” He beckoned her over. He pulled back the sheet of the victim and Bex held back bile. There were no organs in the gaping hole in the girls torso. The hole was rough around the edges, lined with dried blood. “This happened while she was still alive?”

“Yes, and by a third year med student as far as I can tell.”

 “That’s terribly precise.”

“Yes well, I’ve taught many years of all levels of med school, and you can get to where you know one type from the other. Also, there is a stab wound in the thigh. Which is rather random. She also seemed to have been bound and beaten for days before she was killed.”

Bex looked down at the body. The girl had a pretty face, hair with dyed roots, and was still tan even though she was stone cold dead. “What happened to the organs?”

“By the time she was found, animals had gotten most of them, but what was left was put into a design. A Greek symbol of some sort. Her body was put in a very inappropriate position to be found. Whoever did it was certainly a new level of psychopath.”

“And who called it in?”

“Some farmer who noticed too many vultures and went to investigate. Apparently he’s still to stunned to speak.”

Bex was beginning to feel anxious for some reason. Maybe because she still had no leads. “And where was the crime scene? Surely the police documented that much.”

The Undertaker sighed, “Unfortunately, no. You know how they are. Pigs mostly.”

A flare of rage overcame her heart, but then was extinguished quickly by the thought of having a reason to pay them a visit. And what a visit it shall be, she thought venomously. “Well, thank you for your time, I appreciate it.”

“Oh please, let me walk you to the door.” The Undertaker bowed and led the way. When they got to the door, Bex had one more thing to say. “Why is he named Franklin?”

“Oh, he’s my grandfather. Sour old man he was, but now we get along quiet well.”

Bex smiled and stepped out the door hurriedly. The sun blinded her, but she wanted to get as far away from that place as possible. She hopped on her bike and revved it to life. She sped away without her helmet on. Her hair billowed behind her and she felt epic. And for no reason, she started laughing. She laughed so hard tears came to her eyes. It had been a while since she laughed so hard sober. Not knowing what else to do, or from habit, she reached in her pocket and took out her cell phone. She dialed a number that was under a very rude name.

“Hello?”

Still laughing, she said, “Leon, you will never believe what just happened!”