CCC #87 - Occult Detectives

Detective Sott Samnee stood observing the grisly scene before him, his stony-eyes fixated on the bloodied corpse splayed in the center of the dusty room. The victim was a young blonde girl her clothes were in tatters and her chest had been split open exposing her broken ribs underneath. Her head had been cranked at a disturbing angle obscuring her face, but even still he could tell she couldn’t have been much older than her early twenties. She was just about Mandy’s age he thought. His brow furrowed, the similarities between this girl and his daughter sending a shiver down his spine. He shook his head sending the thought away, the turned away towards the doorway. Daz remained facing away from the scene.

“Do you recognize this one?” Samnee asked his voice cracked and dry.

“No-- No, I don’t think so” Daz answered nervously as he shook his head.

“You haven’t even looked” He replied impatiently.

Daz groaned, then turned slowly to face the scene, his lips curled in disgust. He floated slowly over to Samnee’s side before lowering himself to take a closer look, then recoiled sharply.

“So? You recognize her?” Samnee watched him, an annoyed look creeping across his cold face.

Daz didn’t answer, he just waved his hand over his face signaling he’d need a better look to know for sure.

Detecive Samnee pulled his worn leather gloves out of his back pocket and slowly put them on as he squatted down carefully next to the girl. He rubbed his gloved hands together readying himself. The he reached out and slowly turned her head slightly which audible popped as he did so. Daz let out a gagging sound at that. Then Samnee used the back of his hand to remove the matted blood encrusted hair from her face. He stood allowing a view to Daz.

Daz’s eyes shot open then he covered his head with his arms and began rocking back and forth in the air.

“Awww no, awww damnit!” his voice full of pain and anger “oh, God” he said in a wimper.

“Daz-” Samnee started

But Daz didn’t wait for him to finish, and flew out of the house not bothering to use the door. Samnee felt a tug in his pocket, the tether in his front pocket was pulling at Daz. Samnee walked to the front of the house and as he stepped onto the porch, he could see Daz’s ghostly legless form floating at the end of the paved walkway. His head hung in sadness, the day’s bright sun shone through him illuminating his form making him look even more ethereal than usual.

“Who was she?” Samnee asked as he approached the wraith.

“My girlfriend” Daz sighed, “fiance actually, I guess” he added with little emotion.

The detective paused, he hesitated. Then exhaled and said “I’m sorry”.

“We have to get the bastards Scott” Daz turned to face him an anger rising in his voice. “We gotta find them, and we gotta end them”

“I know Daz” Samnee replied.

“We gotta” Daz repeated as he lowered his head once more.

Detective Samnee wasn’t much for sentiment, a fact that had led him to a divorce from the only woman he ever loved and a terribly estranged relationship with his only daughter. But even still he wished he could reach out and put his hand on Daz's shoulder, to offer his friend some amount of comfort. Even calling the ghost his friend seemed strange, but over the last couple of weeks that’s what they’d become. Or at least as close to friends as Samnee had had in many years. When he was alive Daz was a frequent informant for Samnee, a squirrely junkie named Darren Doyle who had displayed an interest in going straight, but an inability to remain clean. In the end that’s what did him in. As he told it, he snuck in to this old house in the dead of night, expecting to find the owners asleep and to make out with anything worth enough to get his next hit. What he found instead –according to him- was a group of “gothy weirdos” who had hung people upside down and where bleeding them alive.

Daz had tried to run but was caught before he could make it out, said he couldn’t remember much after that. Samnee had found him two days later his blood dry on the floor boards which had somehow locked his soul onto the home. Samnee carried a piece of that floor in his pocket which is what allowed the ghost to remain around him instead of being stuck back at the murder home. Since then the two had spent the following weeks trying to track them down and put an end to whatever sick sh*t they were doing. Daz had been convinced from the beginning that they were dealing with vampires. But Samnee brushed the thought aside as the ravings of a kid who’d died while he was high as a kite. The town had rumors of vampires for years, but they were just that. They’d dealt with a pack of werewolves when he joined the force almost two decades ago, and they’d made a deal with some witches to stay out of each other's business among a few other nasties that popped up here and there. But Vampires as far as anyone knew were just a myth. Yet more of these bodies he saw though the more convinced he became that there was something out of the ordinary. His “partner” was a ghost after all, would vampires really be that crazy? Maybe not, but even if there were vampires that wouldn’t explain why they suddenly started going on a spree so flippantly if they’d somehow managed to stay undetected for who knows how long.

Samnee let out a long, annoyed sigh. Who would have thought, last week he was focused on taking this crazy new street drug off the market, now he was tracking down vampires?

“Oh, damn” Samnee said as the pieces fell into place, he turned back towards Daz who was trailing behind him. “How many bodies have we found like hers?”

“What?” Daz asked groggily as he looked up.

“How many?”

Daz sighed “she makes eight”

“Nine including you, then?” Samnee asked.

“Nine” Daz nodded

“And how many did you know” he asked stepping up close to the ghost.

Daz’s brows furrowed “Five?”

“How did you know them” he asked looking him in the eyes.

“What do you mean?” Daz asked suspiciously as he backed up slightly.

“Your girl, did she use?” Samnee asked solemnly.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?!” Daz lashed out getting in Samnee’s face

This time the detective backed up and raised his arms “the new stuff, I know you were hooked” he locked eyes with Daz “did any of them try it?”

Now Daz understood what he was implying, he nodded silently. “You don’t think?”

“Yeah” Samnee replied simply.

“Damn” Daz shook his head “they got hooked on me?” he dropped his head “if I hadn’t broke into their spot they wouldn’t have gotten that first hit, this is my fault.”

“Stop” Samnee said sharply, Daz looked up at him “you didn’t do this, this stuff is spreading like wild fire. It was only a matter of time before they took someone who was on it.”

“So we got a bunch of leaches strung out on junkie blood?” Daz said in disbelief “How do we stop them?”

“I don’t know” Samnee admitted

“How do we find them?”

He shook his head “I don’t know, but we can start by you pointing me towards your dealer.”

A faint smile crawled across the wraith’s face “just like old times.”

“What do you think, Gary?” Dimiedo City Senior Detective Joey Natalino asked the dwarf looking at the hovering outline in the alleyway.

“Looks like someone killed a ghost,” Gary replied as he pulled out some cigarettes. Natalino put his hand on Joey’s and ushered them back to his pocket.

“It’s a crime scene, Gary!”

Gary shrugged. “You never call me for a break and enter or an arson job, do you Joey? It’s always can you track a werewolf, or someone got turned into a newt.”

“You’re the medium detective.”

Gary looked at his friend. “It’s DETECTIVE. MEDIUM!”

“Not what your cards say,” Natalino flicked one to him. “Orders round the wrong way.”

Gary exhaled in frustration. His nice neat business cards of which he’d gotten 10,000 read in black on alabaster: Gary Fish. Medium Detective. 555-837-4432. “Stupid %^$#! At least the numbers right.”

“Any ideas?”

“Yeah, never use Daisy Wong’s Print Store on 7^th!” Gary tore the card into pieces.

“I meant th…”

“I know what you meant, Joey!” Gary snapped. “Give me a moment.”

“Oh, look it’s Sneezy!”

Gary turned to see Detective Ari Vysokovic walking their way. He hated Gary and Gary felt the same.

“Is this a crime scene Joey or a circus?” Ari asked Natalino.

“Circus. Clown just arrived.” Gary snipped.

“Okay you too, ENOUGH! Every damn time. Ari, he’s helping us with th…”

“The mumbo jumbo BS, I get it!” Ari replied. “But he isn’t a cop, so he can stand behind the line until us proper cops do our job.”

“Proper cops? Where?” Gary mimicked looking about.

Ari crouched down to Gary’s eye level. “Off you go, Oompla Loompa.”

“How about I kick you in the Violet Beauregard’s?”

Ari got back up, using Gary’s head to help ruffling his hair like a child. Gary grabbed Ari’s pinkie and twisted it backwards. Natalino stepped in to break them up.

“ENOUGH! There are reporters about and you two want to get into a whose is bigger contest! Gary; behind the line! Ari; do your job!” Natalino eyeballed them both, a righteous fury and gravitas sat in his gaze. Ari shrugged off his commanding officer and went to the body as Gary headed for the yellow tape. Gary pulled out a cigarette and then whirled on his heels.

“Hey Vysokovic!” Gary waited until he had most everyone’s attention. “Your sister says hi!”

Gary knew it was a low blow but screw that guy! Ari’s face went from resting to angry to volcanic angry as he unholstered his gun. Senior Detective Natalino grabbed his hands and forcibly lowered the weapon.

“You’re on report!” Joey spat under his breath into Ari’s ear. “Walk away!”

Gary watched smiling from the sidelines before walking off.

_

“You didn’t?” Oscar Craddock spun a coin along his knuckles. It was a slow night in Craddock’s Paddock, so he amused himself with learning tricks. Gary nodded as he crunched the ice of his tequila soda. “I thought you only used your powers for good?”

“I’m not a superhero!” Gary scoffed as he drained the glass.

Oscar flipped the coin into his top pocket then poured Gary another drink. “Still. Telling a guy his recently suicided sister said hello, a girl you dated once, AND you’re a medium is kinda…”

“What?” Gary laughed. “He’s a dog!”

“I was going to say funny, but you like flapping your gums. For half a man you make twice the noise,” Oscar smiled and swept Gary’s remaining money off the bar as the dwarf gave him a one fingered salute.

“You should take that routine on the road…preferably the interstate in peak hour!” Gary retorted as he looked around the bar. As per usual it was just the three of them; Oscar, himself and Irving Welles the former mayor who’d turned into a professional alcoholic. “Maybe you could set fire to this place, then you’d have at least twenty guys in here.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Oscar jeered as he balanced the coin on his knuckles again. “Did you see t…”

The door opened to the bar and in strode a man

“Evening!” Oscar smiled. “What’s your poison?”

“Vysokovic!” Gary muttered as he recognised him.

Ari held up a bandaged hand with his police badge. “Has anyone seen a short little maggot by the name of Gary %^$# Fish? Smells of &^%#!”

“What did you do to your hand, Ari?” Gary asked as he slid off the barstool. “Punching whores?”

“You think you’re so good!” Ari yelled. It became apparent that he’d filled most of his body with alcohol. “You’re just *&#@!^&!”

“Call the cops Oscar,” Gary muttered as he walked forward. “Hey Ari, lets go out into the street so I can knock those teeth of yours out?”

Ari fixed his blurry eyes on the little detective. “You won’t be laughing soon!”

Gary saw the blood trickling down Ari’s wrist. “What did you do Ari?”

The policeman swooned and ripped the bandage off. Carved into his palm was a jagged design; fresh and bloody.

“Ghaddar!” Gary gasped. “Ari…Ari…tell me what you did!”

“You’re going to get it you runt!” Vysokovic began to tremble. Gary recognised the blood magic and ran to the back of the bar. “Irving! Oscar! Get out!”

Ari roared a sound that was seemingly impossible then he exploded in a shower of blood and flesh chunks. Standing in his place was a Ghaddar; a summonable demon used for singular purposes but with great expense to the summoner.

“GARY FISH SHALL DIE!” it roared as leathery wings unfurled from its horned back.

“Gary?” Oscar whimpered.

“GET OUT YOU JUGGLING %&^%$#@!” Gary yelled as he threw a barstool at the monster. “It’s after me, so run!”

The Ghaddar smacked the stool away with its taloned claw and lurched forward on its cloven hooves. Gary ran behind the bar and clipped Oscar over the ears.

“I said run!”

Oscar scrambled away as the Ghaddar ripped a gouging hole out of the bar. Gary opened compartments, searching for something as the demonic beast came closer.

“Picked the wrong place,” Gary smiled as he grabbed a bag of salt and threw it up into the air. “Think quick!”

The Ghaddar smashed the bag making it explode all over him. The beast roared as the salt coated him.

“Thing about you Ghaddar is that you’re dumb as! And salt is one of your weaknesses. It won’t kill you but it sure as hell make you squirm.” Gary said as he grabbed a wooden bat from under the bar. “Your other weakness is silver oak!”

Gary smashed the bat into the beasts’ shin and then down onto its hoof. The demon roared in pain at the assault, but the angry midget wasn’t relenting. “I found this all out the hard way! You’re not the first Ghaddar someone’s ever set on me!”

The Ghaddar lashed out but Gary with his extremely low centre of gravity was like a super charged ferret. Several short sharp blows had the Ghaddar reeling.

“Had enough?” Gary yelled swinging the bat. “Coz remember if you die here on Earth, its permanent.”

“GARY FISH SHALL DIE!” The Ghaddar spat fire from its mouth coating the room in flames. Fire licked the room when as quick as the fire started, it was extinguished with black retardant from the roof.

“See back in the old days, you guys were scary. But with modern firefighting equipment and compulsory safety, you’re really more annoying than a threat!” Gary laughed then pulled a handful of white pegs from his pocket.

“See these? They’re hydra teeth. Know what they do?”

The Ghaddar paused unsure of what to do, watching Gary’s little hand carefully. The dwarf tossed them onto the ground, the Ghaddar shrunk back as Gary ran forward and smashed the bat into the groinal region.

“They’re tic tacs idiot!”

The Ghaddar roared and suddenly exploded into a ball of fire leaving Ari Vysokovic lying on the floor. He looked like he’d been through a shredder. Ari coughed and shivered like a newborn. Irving Welles came and stood beside Gary looking down on the policeman, black goo floated in Irving’s drink.

“Did he do this?” Irving asked staring at his drink.

“Yup. Summoned a demon to…oh you’ve walked off.” Gary crouched down to Ari. “You’re an idiot on every level, Ari.”

“H-h-hate you..”

“Well I hope that’ll keep you happy when you’re being violated in Myers Island.” Gary smiled. Suddenly there was a scream and a barstool came down on Ari’s head crunching his skull. Again, and again before Gary could stop the hysterical Irving.

“Irving!”

“HE RUINED MY DRINK!” Irving cried before throwing the stool away. “BASTARD!”

Gary looked at the bloody carcass, the mess across the bar and the crying alcoholic. He rolled his eyes and went back to the bar and took a whole bottle of tequila.

“I hate this place!” Gary declared as he drank deeply. In the distance sirens were approaching which made him smile. Seemed his joke about filling the place with firemen was going to come true.

(Gary Fish, Ari Vysokovic, Dimiedo City, Senior Detective Joey Natalino, Craddock's Paddock, Ghaddar, Myers Island, Irving Welles, Oscar Craddock are all owned by me as they are my creations.)

Pandora Jones and the Crab Man's Corpse

A woman walks up to a crime scene looking like she just found her way back from an Eighties punk rock concert. She wears pink high-tops with no socks, black combat trousers, a pink-and-white tank top under a long, ratty black coat, and an equally ratty black fedora that doesn't quite hide her hair. It's pink, shaved to stubble on the sides and back, and with the top coming up in lazy, pink curls that poof out from under the hat in the front. She wears a black, fingerless glove on her right hand, and a silver-sequinned, fingerless glove on her left hand.

A uniformed officer is about to stop her at the edge of the cordon, but she reaches in her pocket and pulls out credentials with a badge. Sounding bored, she recites, "My name's Pandora Jones. Yes, like 'Pandora's box.' Yes, I am a detective. No, I don't know Jessica Jones. She's a P.I., and she's fiction. It's not funny anymore. It was never funny. Yes, you were going to say all of that. Yes, I do know. Yes, I am a scary bitch. It's late. Who's in charge?" The officer only manages to stammer for a couple of seconds before she says, "Speak!"

The officer barks.

Before Jones can respond, a voice from behind the officer says, "It's okay, Officer Sashen. Let her through." A tall man with a handlebar mustache and no hair steps up next to the officer and offers his hand. "Agent Heironymous."

Rather than take the hand, she rubs the officer's face, and then scratches him behind one ear. "He's cute; has a good sense of humor. Can I keep him?"

The agent raises an eyebrow, and the officer smiles stupidly. "He's not a stray." Fixing Sahsen with a scowl, he adds, "And he's not off the clock." Then he waves for Jones to follow him.

As she steps under the cordon, the officer hands her a card, and whispers, "I'm off as soon as things wrap up here."

She purses her lips at his bravado, then pats him twice on the cheek- the first is light, and the second is more of a stiff slap. She says, "Down boy. Stay," and smirks as she walks away.

"Bitch," whispers Sashen.

Pandora turns and faces him, but has not lost her smirk. "That's scary bitch, Al. And fug you; you liked it," she says with a wink. Her smirk broadens a bit as she turns back to catch up with Heironymous.

Al smiles stupidly again, and wonders briefly how she knew his first name. He hopes to see her later only for a moment before he's slapped in the back of the head, and a short-haired blonde says, "Get back to work, Al."

"Dammit, Salt!" he complains.

"Agent Salt!" she corrects. "And fug you, jagoff," she says smiling over her shoulder as she walks away. "You did like it." She flips him off playfully as she turns to head after her partner.

Al rolls his eyes and waves her off as he turns back to watch the cordon. Then he smirks, and shrugs to himself. He did like it.

Up ahead, Pandora catches up to Heironymous, points a finger so close to his face that his mustache twitches, and she says firmly, "You stay too."

Heironymous stops involuntarily, and blusters, "What?"

Turning to walk backwards, she continues on as she says, "I don't like dragons, 'Agent.' I'll deal with your partner." Without another word, she turns and heads down an embankment to the crime scene.

Heironymous watches her descent for a few seconds before Salt reaches him. "What are you waiting for, partner?" she asks.

"Apparently, I'm staying here," he answers, sounding only slightly perturbed.

"What the hell?" balks Salt.

"It's her," he says, nodding in the detective's direction. "She told me to stay, and I stayed; can't go forward."

Agent Salt scoffs. "Damn, Heironymous," she says as she starts down the embankment. "I'm going to have to get her to teach me that trick."

"Crystal," calls Heironymous. She looks back at him. "Be careful of her."

His partner just nods, and continues down to the crime scene. Stepping up beside Jones, she looks down at the corpse, and says, "Agent Crystal Salt."

"Detective Pandora Jones. Paranormal Crimes Unit," she answers, never taking her eyes off the body.

The body is contorted, standing on its hands and feet in an inverted bridge pose, shuffling back-and-forth, and babbling in a language that nobody understands. The head is at an odd angle on account of the broken neck.

"What's it going on about?" Pandora wonders aloud.

"You tell me," says Salt. "You're the Ghostbuster."

Jones sighs. "It doesn't matter. It's not him. He's dead. The gibbering nuisance is a demon."

"Y'don't say," Salt deadpans.

"This boring you, Agent Salt?"

Crystal shrugs. "Yeah, kinda."

"Seen one supernatural freak, seen 'em all, then?" Pandora says with a little amusement.

"Girl," Salt sighs, "I could tell you stories." Shaking her head, she says, "So, what do we do about the Crab Man, here?"

Pandora just looks at Salt for a few seconds. She's not used to someone acting so casually about a case she's called in on. She chuckles lightly, and pulls a small, highly polished brown box from her pocket. She reaches her sequin-gloved hand palm out towards the body, and it flashes a bright flare. Whether it comes from her or from the glove isn't immediately apparent. "It's the glove," she says to Salt's unasked question.

The corpse collapses as a shadowy, growling something is thrown away from the body. It's sleek, and kind of humanoid, but with what looks like a tail and claws. It growls furiously, but then Jones tips open the box, and says, "Hope?" Something much like the shadowy form flies from the box, but appears to be made of bright, white flames. It grapples with the shadow, and drags it back into the box. The lid slams shut behind them of its own accord. Pandora puts the box back in her pocket, and turns to go up the embankment.

"Wait!" calls Salt, sounding perturbed.

Jones turns towards her with a questioning look.

"That's it?" Salt balks.

Jones taps the box through her pocket, and shrugs, "Demons go in, but they don't come out."

Salt looks stunned. "That simple?"

Pandora shrugs again. "Like I said when I got here- it's late. You want more action, go see a movie."

Salt just shakes her head as she watches the detective go.

"Agent Salt!" Pandora calls back, turning to look at her. "You have--" she starts, then seems to be searching for the right words. "You have a very interesting... timeline." She seems to be searching the air as she thinks about it, and then nods. "Yeah, 'timeline.' Even without the dragon." Then she turns to leave.

As she gets to the top of the embankment, she flips off Heironymous without saying another word to him, and keeps walking. Heironymous and Crystal just stare at each other for a long minute before she heads back up as well.