Chapter Four: The Morgue

I wake up with a huge headache. I didn't get home until nearly two in the morning. Glancing at the alarm clock I just threw, I can see it's six o'clock. I grunted loudly and then winced at the pain it caused. My head felt like it was about to explode from the sudden pressure. Boy am I gonna need coffee today. Throwing the covers off my legs, I roll out of bed. My t-shirt hangs low enough that I didn't bother putting shorts on last night. Not that I ever do. I'm in the comfort of my own home. Why bother? I never have guests anyways.

In the kitchen I put some instant coffee powder into a mug and fill it up with water. I microwave it and gulp down as much of it as I can. It's cheap and might not seem like much but it'll hold me over until I can make it to café black. I walk back into my room and grab the same jeans from yesterday and a plain white t-shirt from the dresser. I head to the bathroom and turn on the shower. Steam quickly fills the room as I hop in. I take a quick shower, no longer than fifteen minutes and then step out to get dressed. I dig in the medicine cabinet and find some migraine pills. I pop two in my mouth and swallow it with some water from the sink. It tastes bitter. My feet make a small puddle of water on the floor and I wrap my hair up in a towel.

Once I'm dressed and my hair is half dry, I strap on my tactical belt and attach my badge to it, making sure it faces front. I slide my standard issue glock .22 into the belt's holster and walk around to grab my black leather boots and a black leather jacket. In the kitchen I gulp the last of the coffee I made. Then I grab my keys and my laptop, lock the door and drive to the café. I order my usual and make my way to the downtown morgue. That's why I woke up early today.

When I arrived I walked inside and saw an older short, white man waving at me. I smile. Todd is the only doctor who works down here other than his son, Sam, the assistant mortician. I meet Todd at the examination room door and he immediately starts talking a mile a minute. My headache spikes. Todd may be the most talkative person I know. But that's part of his small town charm. His ash brown hair sits unchanged in a messy pile. His blue scrubs are stained from what I can only imagine to be all sorts of bodily fluids and he wears thick magnifying glasses that he currently has flipped away.

"Hey Todd, the case?"

"Oh! Yes, yes," he exclaims, "I found something interesting."

He walks me over to one of the tables and unzips a big black bag. A horrendous smell hits my nose and automatically I feel nauseous. He spreads it open further and grabs the latest victims arm. When he pulls it out, I see what he's talking about. He grabs some tweezers and moves towards her wrist. The tweezers grab something inside one of the puncture wounds and pulls it out. Todd drops it on a small petri dish and brings it up to his face. A fang.

"Could you by any chance match that to dental records or get a DNA match?"

"I could try. But the amount of DNA on the tooth is probably minuscule and finding dental records on a vampire is gonna be next to impossible," he says.

I think for a moment, "could you compare this to a specific vampire and confirm it's theirs?"

He scratches his chin, "I should be able to. I mean, even so, their fangs don't grow back. Whoever this belongs to is still missing a fang and fortunately for you, not too many vampires are toothless."

I nod. Judging by the bloody bulging tip, that's the whole fang. Not just a chip of one. Todd moves over to a different table and waves me over. I walk closer and look down at his report. Twenty different sets of bite marks. Twenty different vampires on one human. How? Toss her around and take turns? You get a sip, I get a sip? Jesus.

"This is the highest count so far," Todd says.

I continue looking over the report and notice something odd.

"No sexual assault?"

"No. There were no signs of sexual assault on any of the victims. No DNA other than hers down there. No bruising. None of the girls were raped," he says.

"So then why strip them?"

"More skin exposure. To share her with more hungry, vile creatures."

"Oh," I say disheartened. These women had their dignity ripped away from them. Sadly, I understand that feeling all too well. Everyone has a past they don't want to remember or talk about. Including me. These girls were drank dry and thrown away like fast food from a drive thru restaurant. I hate this case. I rub my forehead, my headache slowly coming back again. Todd walks away and comes back with a handful of pills.

"Here, take this."

"Thank you," I say and pop two of them into my mouth. I swallow hard and watch as he takes the rest. The pills I took earlier this morning haven't helped much. What is wrong with my head? I never get headaches. And I didn't drink that much last night. I wondered for a moment if I was getting sick. Or maybe this case was more stressful than I thought.

"Cases like this are tough on all of us," he says as he pats my shoulder.

He walks over to a desk in the corner and grabs a clip board. He brings it over to me and has me sign some papers. We walk together into the copy room and talk about light topics of conversation. His sons medical school. The chief's wife and her knee surgery. My lack of a "love life" as he calls it. Every time I come here he always mentions how he thinks his son and I would get along well together. He's even suggested going on a date numerous time. And I'm certain he goes home and tells his son the same things. When we make it to the printer, he grabs a handful of papers, staples them together and hands them to me, throwing them all into a manila folder.

"Stay safe," he says.

"You too," I holler out as I leave.

I drive to the police station and walk inside. Today it's relatively quiet. No officers running around. None of the phones are ringing and the chief's door is hanging open. Even he is filling out paperwork. I walk to the back of the station and turn right, to walk down the back walkway. The back of the station has four doors that open up to offices. The last one on the right opens up to mine. One of the perks of having a job nobody wants, I get my own private workroom.

I open the door and the sunlight is near blinding. My headache gets worse again. The white walls contrast well with the birch wood furniture. My boots clack on the floor as I walk and the files make a loud slap as I drop them on my desk. I made my way to the window behind my desk and pulled the curtains closed. The room dimmed and I was very grateful. I took a deep breath and tried to ease the throbbing by rubbing at my temples. Once I sat in my office chair, I propped my feet up and laid back. Man I'm tired. Maybe I can just sit here like this for a few minutes. Knock knock. Crap. I jerk my feet down and slide the files into a neat pile while taking a rather large sip of my coffee.

"Come in," I say.

Chief Ryan walks in and he's wearing an odd face, "someone is here to see you."

I don't understand why that would make his face contort like that. Some people come in to hire me as a private investigator. He knows this. That's one of the reasons he gave me my own office. Says it's advertising our skills. Ouch. My head is pounding now. What is going on with me? The throbbing has only gotten worse since I've been here.

When he opens the door up a little further, my jaw drops. A tall dark figure stands just outside my office. Chief moves back and motions for him to come in, then shuts the door behind him. Leaving me and this vampire alone in my office. I stand up almost immediately but get a little dizzy. Damn this headache. I decide to stay silent. To wait to see what he had to say. What is he doing here?

"Detective," he says slyly.

"Mr. Valentine."

He smirks, "how is your head feeling, little duck?"