Home / Mystery/Thriller / I-SHIRLEY / 04

04

Author: Jeremy Jab

Last Updated: 2021-09-25 18:55:02

Shirley drove home with Azriel at her side. The entire ride was so quiet. Both of them lost in their own thoughts. Shirley couldn't believe what she'd just seen, and Azriel, too, freaked out to the bones even though she when hadn't seen the footage yet. Shirley wouldn't show it to her for some reason. "I can't show it to you, you can't see it. Not yet at least; not while you are in this state".

Azriel turned her face to her side of the car, thinking hard about what happened to her earlier. It's never happened. At least not while she was still awake, and that's what made it even worse. When you're in a nightmare, it feels genuinely authentic, but then at the same time, it doesn't because you're asleep. Azriel's was a different story. She was fully awake. She could feel the wind rubbing her cheeks and blowing her hair from one direction to the other. So when she found herself in that situation, she was completely freaked. It all started with Shirley's description of how the homicide took place. For some reason, Azriel had pictured herself as one of the victims and had believed she was present at the scene. And everything happened in her exactly how Shirley described.

Even after several minutes after she was at the car waiting for Shirley, Azriel was still locked in that reality. In her mind, she was hiding from the monster whom she'd just witnessed him killing a baby and a mother. She knew she was next, so she was hiding from him. That was the reason she was frightened when Shirley tapped her on the shoulder. She thought she'd been busted.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Azriel hastily dashed into her car's dashboard, took out her Pen and a booklet, and randomly just started circling words. She would squint for some time and circle.

"Um – Az Cap… What are you doing?" asked Shirley.

"I'm just trying to solve a puzzle," replied Azriel, still squinting into the booklet.

"Oh right! A good way to get your mind off things."

"Yeah… but that's not exactly what I'm trying to do." Azriel mouthed. "I'm actually examining myself; my mind in particular – I mean, to check if I'm still… you know, sane. What happened to me earlier was just too crazy, and, I don't know why or how it happened all of a sudden because it's never happened to me. So I'm trying to prove to myself that I'm not crazy."

Shirley took a silent look at Azriel and then turned her eyes back on the road.

She'd wanted so badly to assure Azriel that she wasn't crazy; Shirley had wanted to be that pillar that Azriel could lean on and feel relieved off everything, but she herself could barely wrap her head around what was going on. Shirley wanted to show Azriel the footage of who she thought was the so-called "ANGEL OF DEATH" fleeing the crime scene, yet she didn't because she thought her mind was playing tricks on her as well. If she weren't driving, she'd have taken and gladly solved the puzzle herself. "Tell me, what do you see?" She asked the receptionist at the Jewelry store after they'd both seen the video. The receptionist was as freaked out as she was, but Shirley was still convinced her mind was playing tricks with her.

Shirley dived into the shower immediately after they got home. She was feeling particularly uneasy the whole time regarding her not taking her bath before leaving home. She felt a drop of sweat in her armpit right after she'd given the profile on the homicide, and that was the trigger. She didn't know if it smelled or not, but she was a little disturbed, especially out of guilt because she knew she hadn't showered since the last time -- that was the morning before that day. She sighed heavily the moment she felt the warmth of the water pouring over her head.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

"Az Cap… So, um, I want you to tell me exactly what you saw," demanded Shirley the moment she entered the living room from the bath. Some parts of her skin were still wet.

Azriel put down the Pen and the puzzle booklet on the table in front; she looked at Shirley and slightly shook her head. "I really don't want to remember that, and I'm trying hard to forget it even happened to me. Let's not talk about it". She said and pulled out her lips and squinted her eyes.

Shirley chuckled. "That little trick doesn't work on me Az cap."

Azriel's legendary trick had failed her for the very first time. She'd do this when she needed a favor from someone, and it always went her way, even if it wasn't supposed to. She'd pull her lower lip out and squint her eyes, and she became victorious regardless of the situation. One time, she made the chief so pissed for some unknown reason, and before she would show up to work, chief Tador kept yelling at anyone and everyone he saw, threatening to confront Azriel hard and direct. Azriel showed up, and before he could yell at her, she'd already pulled her lip out and squinted her eyes at him.

Chief Tador: "I… um… I'm disappoin…." He sighed. "Never mind get back to work," he added. The entire department immediately started laughing.

She thought that cute face would be undisputed forever, but no, it didn't work on Shirley. That was the first time that cute face thing had failed her.

"You can pull you lips back in and tell me right now, or you could stall forever and still tell me because I'm not letting you off the hook till i know what happened to you." Shirley said and smiled sheepishly.

"Alright. But when the others hear they might think I'm crazy or something!"

"Oh you shouldn't worry about that, I wouldn't tell anyone what happened."

Azriel closed her eyes sighed hard.

"Your details on homicides are vivid as always; I mean, it gets me out there, makes me understand what happened. Today's what that, but just slightly different. Today's gave off a different kind of vibe. It was as if you were there, and you knew how both the killer and the victims felt. I guess that's how good you are with your job—this' where it started.

I found myself tied up to a chair alongside the mother, and - I'm not entirely sure what or who that thing was because it looked like - nothing. Yes, like nothing at all. A dark-shadow-like figure, with the woman's baby in his arms, glared down at both of us. He had no face, no hair, and no eyes. He had legs and arms, but they didn't look real, or, let me say, they didn't look - physical. He had the shape, though. He looked like a pile of smoke in the form of a man. He - He strangled the baby. The poor baby didn't know what was going on. She just woke up and found a rope around her neck, and unable to breathe.

I tried to scream for help, but for some reason, I couldn't find my voice, or I didn't know how to use it; because it just wouldn't come out. After the baby, he came in behind the mother, pulled her head backward, and - and - he cut from one side of her cheek to the other side and made her bleed out. He ripped out her heart and ate it right in front of me, and then he walked into the kitchen as if he had forgotten about me. The rope that was restraining me got loose eventually, after I tried so hard to get free from it, and then I ran into the bedroom, locked the door, and - looked through the keyhole. He rushed back to the table in the diner, where we were tied as if he had just remembered there was one more heart he needed to rip out and eat. Realizing I'd gotten free from the constraints, he started searching for me. I kept looking through the keyhole to check his movements, but then suddenly his shadow-face appeared at the other side of the keyhole glaring right into my eyes; that's when you grabbed me and almost gave me a heart attack."

Shirley nodded slightly. "I see"

If she'd heard this a couple of days ago, or perhaps, before she visited the jewelry store, she would have been surprised and might have even told Azriel to find mental help. And it wasn't like she wasn't surprised after Azriel's story. She was. She was pretty much intrigued by it because the description of the figure Azriel claimed to have seen in her head or her vision, or whatever it was she saw, matched the one in the video.

"I don't think you are crazy or anything like that Az Cap… I think we are in a big trouble."

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I-SHIRLEY 41
Shirley had waited for Azriel for hours and finally given up, after getting no response from her in text. Shirley felt like something was wrong at first but shook out the negative ideas from her head. The robbery staged case didn’t even take half a day to break. It might have been that easy, but Shirley was that good as well; she needs to be acknowledged. Who would have found out the apartment manager had something to do with the incident… yet, Shirley did; quite easily for that matter. Shirley rushed to the airport right after cracking the case, to pick up Azriel, who was supposed to have arrived 45 minutes ago, at 14:00. The thought of her missing her flight didn’t cross Shirley’s mind, because Azriel had confirmed earlier about joining the flight. Shirley went on home.Azriel didn’t miss the flight… She actually took it, saw Shirley at the airport and avoided her. She had her reasons though. She had found the identity of the angel of death, and that saddened her. Professor Wake tex
I-SHIRLEY 40
Frazier clapped his hands together in triumph and yelled,"Two birds with one fucking stone! Thank you, Lord!" Hestarted thinking. "Any outbound calls? How's she passin8the info?""No calls from her home line or her cell since ths oneOkay, she's in Georgetown, right? Get a bead on allpublic phones in a two-mile radius of where she lives andcheck them for recent calls to other pay phones or prepaidcells. And find out if she has a roommate or a boyfriend andget their numbers and call logs. I want to see a crosshair overPiper's forehead"It was evening in Los Angeles and the heat was starting todissipate. Mark remained in his bungalow all day with a DoNot Disturb sign on the door. He vowed to do penance forKerry by fasting but got light-headed in the afternoon andbroke into the assortment of salty snacks and cookies at thebar. In any event, he reasoned, what happened to her wasmeant to happen, so he wasn't really to blame, was he? Thethought made him feel a little better,
I-SHIRLEY 39
Marilyn Monroe had stayed there, and Liz Taylor, FredAstaire, Jack Nicholson, Nicole Kidman, Brad Pitt,Johnny Depp, and others whom he forgot because he wasn'tpaying attention to the bellman, who could see he wanted tobe alone and watched him leave quickly without the custom-ary grand tour.To the bellman, the guest looked confused and disheveled.His only bag was a briefcase. But they got all types of richdruggies and eccentrics, and for a tip, the mumbling fellowhad stripped a hundred off a wad so it was all good.Mark woke up, disoriented after a deep sleep, but despitethe cannon fire in his head, he quickly snapped to realityand closed his eyes again in despair. He was aware of a fewsounds: the low hum of an air conditioner, a bird chirpingoutside the window, his hair rubbing between the cottonsheets and his ear. He felt the downward draft from a ceilingfan. His mouth was so desiccated, there didn't seem to be amolecule of moisture to lubricate his tongue.It was the
I-SHIRLEY 38
The heavy, sweating animal between his legs warmed hisbody against the crisp chill of the mid-December day. Hewas not a good rider. Stonecutters were used to slow speedsin an ox-drawn cart. He gripped the reins tightly, pressed hisknees against the belly of the beast and held on as best hecould. The horse was a healthy animal that the monasterykept stabled on the mainland, just for this kind of purpose.A ferryman had rowed Ubertus from the shingled beach ofVectis to the Wessex shore. Josephus had instructed him tomake haste and return within two days, which meant thehorse must be made to canter.As the day wore on the sky turned slate gray, a hy.to the rocky face of the coastal undercliffs. He rodethrough a frosty countryside of fallow fields Pacewalls, and tiny villages, much like his own. Occasionallyakinde at pace stonehe passed dull-looking peasants, trudging on foot or ridtlethargic mules. He was mindful of thieves but in truth h:only possessions of value were t
I-SHIRLEY 37
It was harvest time, perhaps Josephus's favorite season.when the days were pleasantly warm, the nights cool andcomfortable, and the air was filled with the earthy smells ofnewly scythed wheat and barley and fresh apples. He gavethanks for the bountiful proceeds from the fields surrounding the abbey walls. The brothers would be able to restockthe dwindling stores in the granary and fill their oakenbarrels with fresh ale. While he abhorred gluttony, he be-grudged the rationing of beer that inevitably occurred bymidsummer.The conversion of the church from wood to stone wasthree years complete. The square, tapering tower rose uphigh enough for boats and ships approaching the island touse as a navigational aide. The squared-off chancel at theeastern end had low, triangular windows that beautifully illuminated the sanctuary during the Offices of the day. Thenave was long enough not only for the present community,but the monastery would be able to accommodate a greaternumber
I-SHIRLEY 36
Luis had looked at it and had told him it was probablypolice? He hadn't. He was too frightened. They had arguedwith a postcard pinched betweenl his fingers. It's a Doomsdayostcard, Asshole, with my name on it and today's date!a sick joke. Maybe the idiot clerk John had recently firedvetting back at him. And anyway, had John called thewasack and forth for a while until Luis's cellphone had goneoff on the hall table with its campy "Oops I Did it Again"ring tone. John had leapt for it and had cried out, Who thefuck is Phil? Answer, truth be told, was the guy from SuttonPlace, but Luis had dodged the truth unconvincingly.John's emotions had red-lined and, according to Luis, thenormally mild-mannered fellow had lost it, grabbing thealuminum softball bat that he had abandoned by the frontdoor a decade earlier after tearing an Achilles tendon inan adult-league game in Pelham. John had wielded it likea lance, pushing the end into Luis's shoulders, screamingobscenities. Luis
I-SHIRLEY 35
When Martin was young, his father would take him fishing, because that's what fathers were supposed to do.He'd be woken before dawn with a poke on his shoulder.throw on clothes and climb into the pick-up truck for thedrive from the panhandle town of Quincy down to PanamaCity. His father would hire a 26-footer by the hour from aworking-class marina and chug south about ten miles intothe Gulf. The journey, from his dark bedroom to the spar-kling fishing grounds would occur with scant exchange ofwords. He would watch him pilot the boat, his bulky frametinged orange by the rising sun and wonder why even thenatural beauty of a warm morning boat ride on calm shim-mering waters did not bring joy to the man's face. Eventu-ally, his father would stub out a cigarette and say somethinglike, "Okay, let's get these lines baited up," then lapse intosullen silence for hours at a time until a snapper or a wahoohit the tackle and orders had to be barked.Crossing City Island Bridge and
I-SHIRLEY 34
At the end of the day, they went back through buck nakedSince scanners couldn't detect paper. Underground was ster-Building 34 vas the most sterile complex in the Unitedby a cadre of Department of Defense recruiters who didn'tlie ground. Nothing came in, nothing came out.States. It was staffed by employees who had been selectedhave the slightest clue about the nature of the work for whichthey were recruiting. They only knew d the of skill interviews set that they wwere allowed to reveal that the job involved Area 51, athen only with the permission of their superiors. Inevitablthat wasrequired. At the second or third round of inter51, andInevitablylace theyed replyinstallationall that cansful applicantment employeesathe recruiters were then asked, "You mean the place theykeep aliens and UFOS?" to which their authorized renlwas, "This is a highly classified government installaidoing critical work on national defense. That is all thatbe disclosed at this time. Ho
I-SHIRLEY 33
The man was thin but extremely muscular, clean-shavenman said.to me?" he asked.all over, you know what I mean?"each other, having a jolly time."Maybe not. I'm just saying what I would have done."and black-haired, with soft fleshy lips and oily skin the colorof hazelnuts. He was Puerto Rican with a strong islandaccent, casually dressed in black slackS and loose-fittingtropical shirt open to the breastbone. He had long mani-cured fingers, a square gold ring on each hand, and shinygold chains around his neck. At most he was thirty-five. Heextended a hand, and Mark had to grab it out of politeness.The ring seemed to weigh as much as the appendage. "LuISCamacho," the man said. How you doin' ?"Peter Benedict," Mark replied. "I'm doing okay"Luis pointed emphatically at the floor. "When I'm in towthis is my favorite place. I love the Luxor, man"ed sipped his beer. There was never a good time foremall talk, especially tonight. A blender whirred loudly.JIndeterred, Luis cont

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