Cop Craft – Dragnet Mirage Reloaded

Cop Craft: Volume 2 First Night (4)

Even as her mind filled with absurd notions, Cecil Epps took her job of examining the dried-up corpse very seriously.

Height, weight, and race. Measuring every single part of the body with the utmost precision. The number of items written on her to-do-list left her in a lifeless state. Well, this was to be expected. Normally, it would be possible to roughly estimate the amount of time that has passed since death. This, of course, took into account the seasonal temperatures present at discovery. It was nearing spring. Around this time of year, body temperatures would generally drop 7-10 C per hour. However, that did not matter for this body. After all, a single glance was all it took to know that she had been dead for decades, if not more.

She had no outstanding external wounds. No matter how many times she had been brought in for X-rays, there were no signs of any fractures whatsoever. Furthermore, there had been no damage done to her bluish-black skin. From the looks of her bone structure, it would be reasonable to assume her age as between twenty and forty years old. This was no accident, no suicide. And neither was it murder. Perhaps she had died from a disease of some kind. There was also the distinct possibility that she had ingested poison prior to her untimely demise.

Recording her preliminary findings, Cecil muttered her thoughts to herself.

What a surprise. Shes a Laura.

She had described the conditions of the body using jargon specific to medical coroners working in San Teresa and several other states in the mainland. Laura was the name of a murder victim in an old drama serial. It denoted a pristine body.

Setting aside the mummification, the body itself would have been in perfect condition. Not only were there no traces of maggots or scavengers, but exposure to oxygen and changes in temperature also did not appear to have affected the state of the body.

Most likely, the body had been preserved due to its location in a cold, arid climate with little to no oxygen. Much like the failed expeditions on Everest and K2, this mummy resembled the unfortunate mountaineers who met their demise on these treacherous climbs, left untouched for decades after their deaths. There were many instances in which these bodies were discovered by subsequent expeditions. However, unable to spare the energy to carry them back down the foot of the mountain, their successors were reluctantly forced to leave them as is, exposed to the elements.

Extracting samples from her scalp, pubic hair, skin, and nails, Cecil placed each of them in an acrylic Petri dish, affixing suitable labels to identify the body parts.

With the equipment available in Laboratory 2 on the second floor, they would be able to ascertain the chemical composition of each of the substances in detail. It was just like Matoba said. While they were not capable of precisely pinpointing the date of death, it would be possible to determine whether or not the mummy was Semanian in origin, thereby potentially narrowing down the location and cause of death. To be more accurate in their conclusions, there was no choice but to use the MRI, given that an autopsy of the body had been explicitly forbidden. In all honesty, however, the terrible cost of such a procedure would not warrant further investigation.

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Just as she was about to get on the elevator to go up with her samples, Cecil called out to one of the medical assistants, Chapman, who was in the office room.

Chapman.

Although he should have heard her, Chapmans gaze remained fixed on the television. Of course, he did not reply.

Chapman?

Yes.

He finally turned his head around, an extremely annoyed look on his face.

Can you take some pictures of the body the Vice Squad pulled in?

Understood.

Despite answering that, he immediately went back to watching his TV program.

Right now.

As she raised her voice, Chapman groaned in displeasure before heading towards the morgue. It had already been two years since they started working together, and yet it seemed as though the two of them would never get along. Was it because he had no drive to work? Or maybe because he had been making fun of her in secret? It was probably both. Nevertheless, he would occasionally sneak glances at her during work, which she found the slightest bit creepy.

Checking her watch, she found that it was already past nine. Most had already left for home. The only ones left were Cecil, Chapman, a couple of others working overtime, and the buildings security detail.

Pouring a cup of coffee, she headed for Laboratory 2, leaving the skin sample she had collected earlier on top of a table. Inside, there was a wide range of laboratory apparatus, including refrigeration units, cooling centrifuges, various kinds of spectrometers, and a brand-new high-performance liquid chromatograph. Turning on the power to several of these machines, she grabbed the chemical solutions required for the examination from the refrigerator. Just as she pried open the lid of the Petri dish containing the skin sample, she heard a scream coming from far away.

No. Whether or not it was a scream, she could not tell for sure.

Perhaps it was just a figment of her imagination. But thinking it suspicious, she stopped working, straining her ears in an attempt to expand her hearing.

It sounded as if something hard had just collided with the wall when she heard that scream once again. There was no mistaking it this time. Someone was shouting for help.

Could they still be in the building?

Closing the lid on her Petri dish, she poked her head out into the hallway to gauge the situation. Much to no surprise, she was unable to spot anyone lurking in the dark corridor. It was deathly silent. The only sound that could be heard came from the engines of cars passing through Bluebird Street outside.

Did something happen?

She tried shouting out, but no reply came.

Cecil descended the nearby stairwell to the offices on the first floor. Nobody was there. She proceeded to the security room further down the hall, yet she did not see hide nor hair of the guard working the night shift. A tablet PC had been left open, while a half-finished coffee mug continued emitting steam on top of the table. Had she been the only one to hear that voice? Perhaps the guard was searching for them right now.

What a strange feeling. Assaulted by a faint chill, she exited the security room, making her way back to the offices. As she approached the stairwell, she heard that sound once more. It came from the morgue below. The sound of a stretcher falling, followed by the short, leaking of air.

Could a burglar have entered the building? No, this place does not hold any valuables. Plus, police headquarters was just across the street. In the first place, no one would willingly step into a building filled with the pungent smell of antiseptics and the dead.

Leo? Are you there?

Calling the security guards name, she continued down the stairs. Other than some storage rooms, there was nothing else underground except for the morgue and the autopsy room. Opposite the stairs was an elevator used to transport corpses from the parking lot aboveground.

The clack of her pumps sounded awfully loud as she descended the staircase. Cold air blew from the morgue, passing straight through her flare miniskirt as it coiled around her exposed thighs. The familiar odor of decomposition caused her to turn away from the smell.

Right in front of the elevator lay the entrance to the morgue. Both doors were made of steel. The sticker pasted to the doors read, No entry to unauthorized personnel.

Leo? Chapman?

Cautiously opening the door, the scent of fresh blood hit her nose. Blood was splattered all over the wall on the other side. And just below that, the tragic remains of Chapman. His throat had been ripped to pieces, his entrails strewn about the floor, dyeing it crimson. And in the center of the room, Leo was lying face-down. Above him, a naked woman was riding his corpse.

Wha

She was a beautiful woman, indeed. With smooth, white skin and silky, black hair. Her supple body was perfectly symmetrical, appearing firm yet voluptuous at the same time. The woman performed a seductive gesture, shaking her hips back and forth, almost as if she was in the act. A fountain of blood erupted from Leos throat, which she proceeded to suck. The obscene sounds coming from her tongue echoed throughout the morgue.

Turning her head around, the woman spotted the unmoving Cecil.

Pitch-black, lightless eyes.

Lips covered in fresh blood.

Even as she looked at Cecil, the womans smile exuded boundless charm that seemed to suck her in. As the terror set in, Cecil leaked out a shriek.

As she took a step back, the naked woman stood up.

Another step back. The woman took one step towards her.

Whether it be her finely-shaped breasts or her nether regions, the woman made no attempt to conceal any of them. As for the reason behind her lack of shame, Cecil instinctively understood. Was there truly a need to display modesty towards the food atop her dining table?

In other words, the third victim was

As she tried to run away, Cecil slipped on her backside onto the floor. Seeing this chance, the woman set her sights on her, dashing towards her at full speed.