NationStates Jolt Archive

ooc: okay, this is a detective story I am starting. I hope you all like it.

ic:

Rock music pounded through the stereos in the nightclub. Dozens of people danced, drank, and looked for a loner to screw later on in the evening. Multi-colored lights danced through the air, on the floor, and across dozens of moving bodies. Standing up on one of the platforms, the center of attention for the men sitting at the bar and tables was a young, blonde bombshell.

Her short hair was slicked back; a skin tight red leather cat suit covered her creamy skin. She was young, just past twenty and knew full well many of the men inside the club were looking at her, eating up every detail. There would be more than one young, horny college student with a fistful of dollars wanting to be with her. She turned down so many she lost track after one hundred. Instead, she kept dancing and every so often, kneeling before the drooling eyes of a kid and drawing him in close before pushing him away.

Life was good.


One set of grey eyes had stayed glued to the girl since she had first gotten up on the platform. The man wore a pair of black slacks, shirt and jacket; which sharply contrasted to his slightly pale skin. He ran his hand through his blonde hair, pushing it back on his scalp. He licked his lips hungrily and sipped a glass of vodka. He did not pay much attention to the other girls in the club. He had chosen this girl.

For several weeks now he had stalked her, learnt her movements, where she went to eat, work out and relax. He knew what she liked to read, her favorite movies, what she put in her hair, everything there was to know. Now, he just had to wait.

She got down after her number was finished and weaved through the banks of roving eyes. She sat down at the bar and ordered a Diet Coke to freshen her up. She looked over to see a man with grey eyes looking at her. Normally, she would entice him to come to her. Though, there was something about him that intrigued her. Taking her glass, she walked over to the table and sat down in one of the chairs.

The man smiled, tonight she would be his.


One Week Later


Civil war, epidemics, election recounts, assignations; the Golden Simatar had encountered everything most countries had at one point or another during its long history. Though, less than a decade ago it had gone under its hardest change; accepting the existence of vampires, werewolves, elves, and other such creatures. It all began with the capture of the Golden Simatar’s first vampire, Stephen Malone.

President Becky Kimble, was now forty-seven years old, two years into her third and final term. Her dark, red wine colored hair was now beginning to fade; she did not believe in dying her hair. Though her body remained lean and fit and her eyes lost none of their life. Since the ‘other side’ of the world had been discovered, her second term was rocky to put it mildly. Her daughter had nearly been killed by a terrorist bomb because of the vampire; she had fired a friend because of incompetence, nearly brought her country to civil war, and more recently had to deal with a vampire incursion north of the city of Chelam.

Though that did not sway Kimble from her main goal of keeping her nation prosperous and stable; though the last problem had put a wrench in a pet project of hers. She looked up as the door to her office opened. Her secretary poked her head in.

“Mrs. President. Mr. Winschel is here to see you.”

Kimble nodded to her secretary and collected a pile of papers from her desk and put them in a folder. She put the folder inside a drawer in the desk and locked it. Written in red across the top of the folder was written Millennium.

A man standing 5’11 with white hair and goatee entered the room. Simon Winschel was fifty-six years old and the current head of the Internal Bureau of Investigation; he had taken over from Martin Jonick several years before. He adjusted his dark navy blue suit and shook Kimble’s hand as the President rose to greet him.

“Good to see you again Mrs. President.” He said with a smile.

“Always good to see you Simon. Please, sit.”

Winschel took a seat on a large leather sofa while Kimble sat across from him on another.

“Mrs. President, we have another.”

Kimble bit her lip and gave a nod to proceed.

“Alice Kamphaus. She was a dancer at a club called ‘Domino’. She went missing a week ago and today a uniform found the body. I’ll get more with the autopsy report comes in but for now we can only guess it is the killer because the body is lying the same position as the rest.”

“Who do you have on it?”

Winschel smiled and pulled out of his pocket a check. “Is your daughter around?”

Several minutes later, the teenage form of Angie Kimble appeared. It was hard to tell now that she had been involved in a near death experience; her body showed no signs. Her hair was tied back into a pony tail and she readjusted her blue jeans. She spotted Winschel, went bug eyed and began to babble that she was innocent of whatever charge was put against her.

Winschel laughed and instead reached over and handed the check to her. Angie’s eyes continued to grow and her smile widened. “One thousand bucks.”

Her joy was short lived as her mother appeared next to her and took the check and gently put it in her pocket. “That is going for college.”

“Aw mom! Can I please have it? There is this really nice dress and that check can cover it. Besides, it is my money.”

“Yes but I am your mother and I know what is best for you. That is all.”

Angie attempted for several more minutes without success to get the check. Pitiful looks that would have worked while she was younger did not work now. The teenager left the room mumbling and grumpy. Kimble sat back down and smiled.

“The pool still open?”

Winschel nodded. “Yup and your number is still reserved. Even if it wasn’t for the pool I would still assign her to the case.”

Kimble chuckled and nodded. “I know.”

Katherine ‘Kat’ Zhao (http://www.twitchfilm.net/pics/michelle-yeoh.jpg) parked her blue Saab 900 on the road and walked towards the yellow police tape and a middle aged uniform. She flashed her IBI badge and continued on. Katherine was thirty-five, standing 5’10, her raven black hair was tied back in a pony tail which bounced as she moved. Daughter of a lawyer parents, she grew up surrounded by law. Her parents had not pressured her into going into law in any way; though it seemed an obvious choice after growing up listening to her parents discuss it over the dinner table sometimes.

Soon after she joined the IBI at twenty-four; she quickly grew a reputation for effectiveness and competence; also for a short temper. Three months into service, a young uniform on a dare from his friends attempted to smack her butt and move before he could react. He was wrong and ended up with a broken arm. No charges were pressed, Katherine could easily state that she was sexually harassed or assaulted.

Remarkably, across the country on another assignment, it happened again; then, a third time. It was after that that several IBI agents formed a small pool strictly for the Bureau employees. It was simple, each person who wants in puts in ten dollars and if Katherine broke any more arms; the number of days the policeman was in would determine the winner. Sadly for many police officers and thankfully for some agents; rookies on several more occasions continued to attempt to slap Katherine’s butt; and received a broken arm.

Her arm breaking tendency aside; she was one of the finest agents in the IBI. She was willing to follow whomever she was after to the ends of the earth to bring them back for trial, or in worst case scenario in a body-bag. Her last assignment she spent most of a year on and traveling through at least a dozen countries before hauling the man to court.

Katherine moved gracefully towards the hive of human bodies patrolling the woods by the highway, looking for evidence. She was greeted by a young detective.

“Detective Sinclair ma’am.” He said. The boy had red hair and an intense gaze in his brown eyes.

“Agent Katherine Zhao of IBI.”

“Right this way ma’am. We haven’t moved the body, waiting until you showed up. The victim is in a bad shape.”

“Cause of death?”

“Until we get a full autopsy done, we can’t determine the actual cause of death. What we can determine is the victim was repeatedly raped, tortured…and eaten.”

Katherine paused and looked at the young man. She stared at him for several minutes before letting him take her to the body. A white blanket covered the cold remains lying under a maple tree. Putting on a pair of latex gloves, she gently pulled back the tarp.

The skin was no longer a rich creamy color. It was now a bluish, purplish, white form. From between the breasts to the waist, a crude line of stitches ran. Katherine noticed something odd about this body; no blood was apparently visible near the stitches or on them. Once making sure the photographers had gotten all they needed, she gently moved some leaves and twigs from the side of the body and moved the corpse by an inch to see her back. There was no purple blob where the blood collected after death.

Placing the body back to where it had been, Katherine studied the hairline and did another scan of the corpse. The young detective named Sinclair called to her from the highway.

“Ms. Zhao! Someone to see you.”

Katherine stood, removed her gloves and put them into an evidence bag; in case anything important was found on them later. She walked back the way she came, careful to step in her own footprints. “Who wants to see me?”

“Some guy from the VIB.”

Katherine sighed. Every death that could possibly be related to vampires, VIB agents came to the scene like a puppy to a slipper. They were a good bunch, though a bit troublesome. She personally had been offered a job there working overseas at the Simatarian embassy in either Assington or Tarlachia. Katherine stuck with IBI, it was an easier job in her opinion and she refused to move to a foreign country and drop her life here.

“Okay. What is the agent’s name?”

“John Weston.”

Katherine closed her eyes and shuddered. She gave a nod and walked towards the police tape where she saw the familiar form of Weston attempting to talk his way past a uniform.

“I am sorry Mr. Weston you cannot pass. Your credentials are in order but I am under orders not to let any VIB pass.” The uniform officer said.

John Weston (http://www.moviesonline.ca/movie-gallery/albums/AHistoryofViolence//HistoryOfViolence-1.jpg) stared at the young officer. His pale green eyes flickered over the blue uniform to the name tag.

“Officer Ellis. I am here because you might have a homicide related to…”

“There is no need for you here John.”

John’s eyes darted over to the slender form of Katherine. He smiled and straightened his navy blue suit. His smile got wider as Katherine ordered the officer to let him pass. Just as he got up to the woman, he felt a blow to his stomach as Katherine punched him. John’s breath escaped for a second before the wind quickly refilled him.

“Kat…how is that a way to treat an old friend?”

John Weston was thirty-six, standing 6’1 with light brown hair that almost gave the appearance of premature in some light graying. He had once worked in IBI along with Katherine, they had even dated for nearly a decade. But once VIB was formed, John quit IBI and went over to the new agency. He had been unable to convince Katherine to come and for other reasons, the pair broke up. Though John still attempted to relight the flame at every turn.

“John, before I break your arm I ask why you are here.” Katherine said coldly.

“Homicide, heard over the police squawk that the victim apparently was mutilated and lacking quite a large amount of the red stuff. Now, do you really want a bloodsucker running around the countryside killing off strippers. I mean…strippers provide…”

“Before I put a bullet in your overactive man parts shut up. Since there is now use dragging your ass out of here because you would go storming to Hauser and Hauser would storm to Winschel and then Kimble. Come on.”

She led him grudgingly off the road to the murder scene. John got a pair of gloves and began to study the neck, wrist, and other major artery areas. Katherine commented in a slightly sarcastic tone. “So, what is this I hear about a vampire doing this? I thought fangs would leave a mark. Or…” she added more sarcasm. “Are we dealing with a succubus?”

There was general laughter from the surrounding EMPs, detectives, and policemen. John did not pay attention as he continued to study the corpse. Once satisfied he stood and removed the gloves. “Kat, read the news and watch TV. One of the first things you learn is that vampire blood can seal up nearly any wound within seconds.”

“So why didn’t he or she seal up the wound on the torso?” Katherine comment, sarcasm still in her voice. She knew that vampire blood had great healing powers, once she saw the long line of stitches the possibility of a vampire could be quickly ruled out. “Or are we dealing with a werewolf?”

John walked up to Katherine and smiled. “Kat…you are so beautiful when you act like a total bitch.”

Katherine smiled and took John by the arm, leading him back to the road and the police line. “Mr. Van Helsing, it is time for you nap. I’ll be sure to put your ‘Little Vampire Hunter Kit’ next to your bed in case you have a nightmare.”

John chuckled and once he was back across the tape he turned back and smiled at Kat. “How about dinner tonight?”

“No, I am meeting an old friend tonight. Karen Johnson. You know her?”

“Yeah…some egghead archeologist.”

“Just leave before I break your arm.”

Katherine turned and headed back to confer with others. Officer Ellis looked at John and scratched his head. “What is this I hear about her breaking guys arms?”

“Just watch as Darwinism takes its course.” In front of them a fairly young detective studied the movements of Katherine’s buttocks and decided to go for it. Moving normally, it wasn’t until the last second when he broke into a run and smacked her. His joy was short lived as he felt a hand grab his wrist and a flash of pain as an arm slammed into his arm mid-way between the elbow and wrist.

Katherine let the man drop in agony and as medics came to take car of him and others began to badger him for the days in service for the pool; she went back to work as though nothing happened.