Showing posts with label detective. Show all posts
Showing posts with label detective. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

. 19.07.13 Mad Mike .

  There was this serial killer we caught whom we named Mad Mike. There was a number of us; me, a high-ranking detective, a large-bodied latino sheriff who originally cuffed Mad Mike, and Chad, a laid-back hippie character with long dreads and beard who was my unorthodox partner, and this one scrawny, white guy who looked like the sheriff's assistant officer.

  The sheriff and assistant officer were walking Mad Mike along the street until suddenly he hit the deputy and made a run for it uphill but Chad and I broke him off and pinned him down. We were next to the main road so there were cars passing us by. Somehow, Mad Mike managed to uncuff one hand so as I was about to cuff him, he had this look in his eyes. Like a real mad dog. I was sitting ontop of him and before he had the chance to throw me off and into the busy street of cars, I got off of him with both cuffs on.

  We continued to walk along the street until he resisted arrest again and knocked Chad to the ground. He had also injured the sheriff and deputy somehow and was running amok. There were civilians nearby so I told Chad to just shoot him. I ran behind him the entire time, just a few metres apart. Chad got hold of the sheriff's shotgun and trid to shoot but it was jammed. He tried the trigger a couple of times but he accidentally shot the ground and a bullet somehow ricocheted into his shoulder. Mad Mike was totally happy to see how incompetent his captors were.

  Mad Mike escaped his cuffs once more, got the shotgun and tried to shoot me. I ran behind a tree and hid in the surrounding hill. We were at a gas station, surrounded by hills, so I hid in the trees where I could still see what Mike was up to. He had some civilians held hostage; an old woman and three younger ladies. Chad was wounded, sheriff and deputy were still down but I don't think they were dead. Mad Mike kept blasting off he shotgun here and there and everywhere, shouting nonsense.

  Finally I got hold of a golf club from the trash bins by the back of the gas station. I somehow jumped down from the hilltop to meet Mike face-to-face. He tried to shoot me but he hadn't been paying attention to how many shots he'd just wasted; now he had none. So I took the gun and hit him once in the head with it. Once down, I saw on top of him again to deliver the final blow to his head with the golf club.


I admit I was a bit brutal for a hard-ass detective, but he was a mad serial killer on the loose and he'd escaped too many times. I felt like justice was served by my own two hands.

Monday, February 25, 2013

. detective Maria Bennet .


  The era looks like the early 1900’s. I was a female private detective, by the name of Maria Bennet. That was how I introduced myself at the client’s door. I was with two other people; one man, who looked like my assistant detective, and a woman, who wore a white coat like a doctor. We were investigating the mysterious death of a young woman and her new-born child, upon the inquiry of her father. His name was Dr. Sterngal, a man well-known for his practice and was a man of pure science. But he could not explain rationally his daughter’s cause of death. When we arrived at the home to inspect the body, it was ghastly.

  Her body was pale grey, with a slight blue-purple hue to her skin. The veins in her body were visible and her eyes were wide open, white as the moon and bloodshot at the corners. Her mouth was left open and gaping, as if she were screaming. Her eyes and mouth were too dry and stiff to close, so they had no choice but to leave her as she was. What was even more frightening was that the baby looked exactly the same, but it seemed it was still struggling to live. I don’t remember much what happened after we inspected the mother’s body, but I recall seeing the distraught look on Dr. Sterngal’s face when the baby tried to cry. It sounded more like gurgling wails, like it was choking on its own saliva. Or blood.

As the detective, of probably the occult, I concluded that the girl was the victim of demonic possession. But the goal wasn’t her, rather it was the child the demon was after. The whole thing reminded me too much of the movie ‘The Exorcism of Emily Rose’. Probably what invoked the ‘demonic possession’ Dream in the first place xDD