Conversation · Perception
Speakers · 24
Hand/Eye Coordination
Esprit de Corps
Logic
Reaction Speed
Cunoesse
Cuno
Interfacing
Suggestion
Empathy
Conceptualization
Electrochemistry
Half Light
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Your arm reaches out and your eyes close, as if by their own volition. It's dark all around. You feel cold, slippery flesh -- first with your fingertips, then under the palm of your hand.
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Your arm reaches out and your eyes close -- as if by their own volition. It's dark all around. You feel cold, dead flesh through the latex glove. It's right under the palm of your hand.
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"Here we go."
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His face. His cheeks, his nose, his fat swollen lips. Like a spider, your hand crawls over his features. Everything is silent.
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His face. His cheeks, his nose, his fat swollen lips. Like a rubber spider your gloved hand crawls on his features. Everything is silent all around.
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The oral cavity is cold and moist. A ball-like tongue attaches itself to the base of the mouth, lolling around like a scallop...
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The tongue moves freely in the cavity. The mucous of the mouth is slippery, delicate to touch. From the soft meat -- teeth are budding; hard pearls of bone in the gums. And in the back of the mouth...
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The tongue moves freely in the cavity. The mucose of the mouth is slippery, fragile even through the latex. From the soft meat -- teeth are budding; hard pearls of bone in the gums. And in the back of the mouth...
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A vision of black and dark red death, pried open by your naked hands and studded with teeth. Looks like he's laughing, death fumes rising from the throat. And there, in the back of his mouth, above the bell of the uvula, right in the soft palate...
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A vision of black and dark red death: pried open by your hands and studded with teeth. Looks like he's laughing, death fumes rising from his throat. And there, in the back of his mouth, above the bell of the uvula, right in the soft palate...
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...you see a hole, barely visible to the human eye. It is swollen shut, almost vanished, no larger than 0.4 cm in radius. The edges appear darkened.
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Your index fits right in there. A tight tunnel of flesh opens up -- tissue damage -- wide enough for two fingers. As you push both in, you reach through his mouth, right into his brain stem.
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Your fingers slide into the remains of his limbic system. There is no resistance. It's gelatinous. The slug-like structures are damaged too, the tearing extends deep into both hemispheres.
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Your yellow fingers slide into the remains of the limbic system. There is no resistance. Its gelatinous. The slug-like structures are damaged too, the tearing extends deep into both hemispheres.
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Your fingers are all the way in now, reaching toward the inside of his skull. The cavity goes further, but the entry wound isn't wide enough for the rest of your hand to follow...
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Your fingers reach toward his skull. His cerebral cortex feels like jelly -- cold jelly -- strange fluid streams down your wrist as you push deeper. Until you feel it, on the tip of your finger...
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Sharp, serrated material. The edges cut right into your skin. This must be the bullet.
Ice cold, serrated metal. Its edges cut right through the latex and into your finger.
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- The cartilage gives in with a crack, like some fruit. Just like that your hand is in his head. Strange fluid streams down your wrist -- and then you feel it, with the tip of your finger...
- Your fingers reach toward his skull. His cerebral cortex feels like jelly -- cold jelly -- strange fluid streams down your wrist as you push deeper. Until you feel it, on the tip of your finger...
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Out comes his small folding knife -- the lieutenant moves its blade across the man's skull, searching for the exit wound...
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With a crack he punches the knife in the skull. Then one more time -- and one more -- until the bone comes loose like eggshell. Inside you feel the jelly move from his poking. The object is still under your finger.
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With a crack he punches the knife in the skull. Then one more time -- and one more -- until the bone comes loose like eggshell. Inside you feel the jello move from his poking. The bullet is still under your finger.
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A fractured piece of lead, like a flower, blossoms from the man's head -- followed by your finger.
A small flower of metal blossoms from the man's head, followed by your yellow finger.
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"A bullet." The lieutenant picks it up between his fingers. "Unknown calibre. Rifled... you may remove your hand from the victim's head now, officer -- well done."
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"Here's your prize." He drops the bullet in an evidence bag and puts it in your hand -- your other hand, the one not covered in blood and cerebral cortex.
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"Here's your prize." He drops the bullet in an evidence bag and puts it in your hand. It feels light.
"We need to add an item to the injury list." He turns to his notebook. "Injury #4: Oval entry wound with an abrasion collar. Soft palate, back of mouth."
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"Looks like we need to add one more item to your injury list..." He takes out his notebook, click goes the pen. "Injury #4. Oval entry wound with an abrasion collar. Soft palate, back of mouth."
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- "No-no, you deserve it. We can log it later." The lieutenant drops the bag in your bloody hand. It feels light.
- "Don't be silly." A smile comes across his face. "You've earned it. Consider the binoclard episode forgotten." The lieutenant drops the bag in your bloody hand. It feels light.
- "Of course. You've earned it." The lieutenant drops the bag in your bloody hand. It feels light.
- "Here's your prize." He drops the bullet in an evidence bag and puts it in your hand -- your other hand, the one not covered in blood and cerebral cortex.
"High velocity, temporary cavity in brain tissue. Small exit wound on the occiput." He underlines the injury, forcefully. "How does that sound?"
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"And one last thing." Click-click goes the pen. "We can now fill in injury #3: ligament mark. Opinion -- non-fatal, post-mortem: treatment."
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"And one last thing." Click-click goes the pen. "We should amend injury #3: ligament mark. Treatment. It's obvious the Hardie boys tampered with it."
"This goes very, very well with #3: ligament mark. Treatment." Click-click goes the pen. "We have the tampering -- and real cause of death. Very neat."
"And one last thing." Click-click goes the pen. "We should amend injury #3: ligament mark. New opinion -- non-fatal, post-mortem: treatment."
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"Oh." He nods. "You really, really do. I am glad to hear you say that. Your room in the Whirling-in-Rags should come with a bathroom. Be sure to make use of it in the evening."
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"We bag the corpse and carry him to the holding pen of my Kineema. I can transport him to Processing myself, but I will be gone for the rest of the day."
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"Work on the case, tend to personal matters? Try not to do anything too dangerous. An officer needs backup in a neighbourhood like this."
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"I'll leave that choice to you. And one more thing..." He looks you in the eye. "Great work, detective."
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The word lingers in the air of the basement, far away ice cream makers are buzzing and the sea wind blows outside...
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After you bag the corpse, Lieutenant Kitsuragi will leave the party until tomorrow morning. You can do side-tasks and even the main case, but it might be more difficult. Plan his exit accordingly.
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The word lingers in the air of the yard, far away dogs are barking, further yet the sound of motor traffic...
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"We put him in a bag and carry him to the holding pen of my Kineema. The bodybag should contain the odour for the duration of the transport..."
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"I would drive him to Processing, but it's too late to do that today... I'll do it first thing tomorrow. No problem."