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Adam's Pulp Factory

6:05 AM.

The scene of the crime took place behind Adam’s Pulp Factory. It was located far outside the reaches of the big city. The factory itself was busy, but the area around it was either derelict or under maintained. There was a heap of garbage and discarded equipment left in a cluster behind the building. The factory’s neighbour was a former electrical plant, now nothing but a husk filled with squatters, garbage, and shards of broken windows. Even the area layered with concrete and filled with gravel were overgrown with tall grass and thick moss.

“...What a waste of a sunny day.”

Detective Sergeant Leo pulled up his car near the Adam’s Pulp Factory, in the supply offloading zone. He got out of his car to see a crowd of police officers holding a defensive line against a flurry of curious factory employees and nosy reporters. He made sure to pull out his police ID to show the cordon, allowing him to pass the threshold between the media and the investigators.

“Top of the morning Sergeant.” An officer in plains clothes came up to Leo and passed him a small cup of coffee, “Eye opener.”

Leo rolled his eyes, “What do was have this morning, Jackson?”

“Hmm. Dismembered body,” Constable Jackson adjusted the fedora on his head, “No head, no arms, no legs, not even the hip was spared. Full on Megazord.” The Constable paused to take a sip of his coffee, trying to enjoy the taste while it lasted, “Some poor hobo found the pieces in several black bags.”

“Anything else you found so far? It’s a big yard we’re walking in.”

“Tell me about it Leo. So, we got a torso, arms, and legs. Still looking for the head and the hips.”

Leo nods and he waves his hand to gesture around the area, “Continue canvasing, I’ll get a sit rep with the coroner.”

“He’s right over there,” Constable Jackson would point over at a group of people with masks and gloves on. “Oh by the way. You see that guy over there wretching his guts out?”

“Another witness? Employee?”

“The new guy.”

“...Oh for Christ sake.”

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 “Uuuuurrrhk! Aaaaaugh!”

Constable McLamb doubled over a rusted railing at the side of the crime scene. To try and save some face, he would hide his face and vomit within a wall of grass, hoping to have the dirt and weeds hide his embarrassment. Unfortunately several other officers would walk by, covering their mouth to hide their smirks more than out of disgust.

“...No more, uurk, microwave burritos for eeuurk...breakfast.”

A hand reached out next to him, holding a folded tissue. McLamb took it and wiped his mouth, and using the cleaner sides to dab the sweat from his face

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Hey thanks I...Who are you?” McLamb turned to see a stranger who had his arms folded and a frown on his face. He noticed the police badge on his chest and looked around, “Which department are you from?”

“Precinct 23, Team B. Name’s Jacob Leo. You’re sergeant.”

“SIR! CONSTABLE ARTHUR McLAMB REPORTING FOR DUTY---uuuuuurk!”

Leo covered his face, not wanting to accept the reality he was given. He ignored the Constable’s sick noises and focused on hiding his face from his colleagues who all snicker at him and the new guy.

“When you’re done flipping your stomach inside out, you’ll be flying with me,” Leo mumbled from under his hand, “Quit throwing up already, you’re making me look bad!”

McLamb would spit out the rest of his breakfast, before grabbing a bottle of water nearby to wash his mouth. After a few deep breath and a chant to psyche himself, he stood back up to return a weak salute.

“I won’t let you down si—hnngfguu...cough.”

“You already did, come on. The coroner is waiting.”

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There were a pile of black bags gathered together for the coroner and forensic team to examine each. An incredibly stench filled the air, strong enough to seep through the face masks the specialists would wear and their gloves would be stained in more black than red. Flies were buzzing happily about, so much so it forced the coroner and his assistant to put on safety goggles just to keep them from hitting their eyes. Tar like ooze pooled from the corner of the bags, already crusting to the morning air.

Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb arrived, only to stagger when the smell hit their nose.

“Good morning Detectives,” the coroner on site nodded to the two officers and examine the contents of the bag, “The torso belongs to a woman, and based on her body structure should I piece the limbs together would suggest she was of 30 to 35 years of age. Possibly Caucasian. The victim possessed a clover shaped birthmark across the back of her left shoulder and has a surgical scar across her thigh. The scar itself seemed to have healed, so perhaps it was done years ago and not recent.” The coroner would reach into the bag and roll the torso around to examine it further, more ooze and stench stirring around, “Judging by the level of decomposition, the victim may have been dead for at least three days. As you can see maggots are already forming in the neck stump and her instest--”

“UUUUURK!”

“Constable McLamb, go stand in a corner! Jesus!” Leo didn’t bother to look around as McLamb bolted away from the bags and doubled to the side to have another bout of vomiting. The Sergeant would fold his arms to prop his elbow and hold a hand to his nose to try and listen and not have the stench make him lose focus.

The coroner gave Leo a gaze of understanding and continued, “The officers on site were able to locate the arms and legs. After examining them, the method of dismemberment could be a bone saw or a meat cleaver. The murderer may have some finesse in using heavy blades, the bones were cut only two or three times and look relatively clean, suggesting the killer may have experience in chopping bones. Also, please take a look.”

Leo crouched down as a full arm was shown to him, “...The fingers are gone?”

“The killer took great time to cut off each individual fingers including the thumb. So far the other officers have not reported finding any dismembered digits.”

“W...why not chop the...whole hand?” McLamb would gasp as he hobbles back from his bout, “Would, urk, it not be easier to just chop the hand off?”

“Good question officer.” Although the coroner had a surgical mask on, it was clear his cheeks were perking up from a grin, “Why don’t you ask the killer when you see them.”

Leo rubbed his face with a groan and slapped the back of his hand across McLamb’s knees, making the rookie clear his throat awkwardly.

== TO BE CONTINUED ==>

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