MEMORIES OF A MURDER THINGY

Invalid Cause of Death

The forensic scientist wrapped the surgical mask tightly around his old wrinkly face. He hesitantly looked down upon the mutilated raped body. The doctor picked up a shiny, cold siler scalpel and started picking at the dead scabs for evidence. The two detectives stood in silence and watched sinfully as the forensic doctor did his daily job. It was so silent that you could hear the scabs ripping apart and you could crackle of the friction caused by the scabs and the scalpel. The detective on the right had a look of concern when he was gazing at the grizzly body. The thoughts in his mind were the same as usual. He wondered how they haven’t found the culprit. The murders happen at a certain time, and certain place. Yet the murderer always gets away. The other detective has a look of sadness. A look of a failure. It seems like he feels as if he has let down his city. The murders just keep piling up. Every suspect they have, is the wrong one. All focus is back to the doctor. The doctor now looks at the lower half of the body. Seems like there is dried up blood between the fingernails of each toe. Between the toes there are dirty rocks and crusty old soil. The doctor’s eyes start to squint. As he looks at the vagina, he claims he’s seeing something weird. Takes a tool, sticks it inside, and calmly pulls out rotten and expired peaches. As the doctor continuously pulls them out, he carefully places them in a special container. As the detectives see this, they realize there is more to the crime than meets the eye.