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I-SHIRLEY 10
"Ah-ha… I've been wanting to ask you guys this question for a while now, but it skips me for some reason." Azriel said and strolled to the petit center table, where everyone sat on the floor around it. Each person, holding a glass of red wine. After dinner, the kids had been sent to bed, and the adults sipped their glass of alcohol and chatted about random things. "Why do all of you have Odoi as your last names, but only Shirley has "Angelus-Mortis" as her last name. What gives?" Azriel waltzed back to her corner jokingly with the whole wine bottle in her hand. She'd already had enough to drink, yet she went in for the entire bottle. "Well, Shirley here is the special one of this generation, hence the last name." May answered. The whole "Gang" sent their gaze to Shirley with a warm smile across their faces. "In our family, we believe that one person is selected out of every generation, to be the pillar and the protector of its members. And we believe Shirley is it in this generation
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-ShirleyChapter 11At twenty minutes after one in the morning, Ackermann sat comfortably in an armchair in his apartment. He held on his lap a pile of the files of the very first five victims of the Angel of death, the shadow killer. He would go through each of them attentively, not missing a single adjective or an adverb. Before two, he had gone through the files and already gone over it a second time. “Still nothing….” He said as he sent his hands to caress his eyes and face. He Sighed and shook his head in discontent. Detective Ackermann was incredibly fed up with chasing one person and doing the same thing over and over and over again for years. The same thing had gone on in his life the same way, so much that sometimes he wakes up and expects to be called to a crime scene. It had become a formula for him. Wake up on a Monday morning to a phone call, “There’s been another angel of death incident, Detective, come do your thing. Ackermann would sometimes set the alarm for as early
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I-Shirley12Ackermann and Azriel had been on patrol for less than thirty minutes, moving slowly and smoothly and quietly in the streets with both the exterior lights and interior lights turned on. “Okay, so basically, you think he murders people on weekends only?” asked Azriel as she still kept her eyes on her side of the car.“Yeah….” Replied Ackermann, also looking around closely. “You’ll realize it too when you take a close look at the files.” He added.“I know right, that’s what I’m worried about.” Said Azriel.“Wait, what are you saying?”“Um-hmm. All these years, and we didn’t figure this out, about the time of his murders. All these years…. How many people have died because we failed to notice this? I can’t help but wonder what else we may have missed.” Azriel said and sent her eyes to Ackermann for a few seconds and then back to the direction she was supposed to keep watch on. It should have been a collective failure for the whole team, herself, Ackermann, and Shirley, for n
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I-Shirley13“ Wait… You think the Angel of Death has Shirley? ” asked Chief Tador, sounding a little panicky.Ackermann took a deep breath. “ Yes, Chief. ” Concurred, Ackermann.Chief Tador laughed hard. “ Quit being so Paranoid, Ackermann. Shirley is here with me and okay. ” “ Wait, what? ” asked Ackermann, in a loud and confused tone.“ Agent Shirley is here Ackermann, relax! ”Ackermann could hear Shirley giggle from Chief Tador’s end.He shook his head.“ Please put her on the phone, Sir. ”Ackermann hit the loudspeaker button and turned up his volume to the max.He hurried back inside the bedroom to see Azriel. The girl had already lost all hopes of seeing her role model ever again. She had sat on the bed and buried her weepy eyes between her thighs. Ackermann immediately felt her sadness the moment he entered the room. He sat beside her
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I-Shirley 14 In the short distance from the car to the door, the two were simultaneously contemplating what kind of approach to take; they couldn't get on the decision whether to kick the door open or enter gently as if they were undercover. Both Shirley and Ackermann reduced their pace in order to get the Chief in front to make the decision. Chief Tador kicked the door open with his full might the second he got there. He had already decided on that the moment he saw the house. Besides, it was no time to be gentle. If they were rational, the situation seemed notably worse already. Looking at things,, the owners of the house whom the angel of death had visited were already dead, and the officer who was sent to check things out came at the wrong time, walked in on the angel of death doing his deed, and also got his piece, besides the family. The Chief had already thought of this; there was no way he would gently approach the house; he needed to enter with full force and vigor. "FBI…
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I-SHIRLEYCHAPTER 15ACKERMANNAckermann woke up after he felt a hand caressing his bare-chest. His eyes were blurry at first…. He saw a black curly haired woman sharing a bed with him. She was on one side of her body and had locked her head up high with her arm. Ackermann tilted his head slightly and look in her direction. “Hey there sleepy head.” She said. Ackermann squinted his eyes and rolled his to the corners, trying to figure out where he was. “This… is my room?” Ackermann asked himself in his head. The man was extremely confused at that point. He almost didn’t his own room if not for the aquarium he had placed on the table beside the entrance.“Honey…. Honey…?” She pulled a hair on his chest and made him snap back. “What’s wrong? You kinda zoned out.” She said, looking and sounding a little worried.
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I-SHIRLEYCHAPTER 16CHIEF TADORTador woke up after he felt a soft hand caressing his face. His eyes were blurry at first…. He saw a dark-skinned woman with neatly trimmed hair sitting right beside him on the bed and looking down at him. Her hands were still on his face. Tador tilted his head slightly and look in her direction. “Hey, there sleepy head.” She said. Tador squinted his eyes and rolled them to the corners, trying to figure out where he was. “Where…. Where am I?” Tador asked himself in his head. The man was extremely confused at that point. He almost didn’t recognize his own room if not for the baby picture of his son he had hung on the wall beside the entrance.“Tad…. Honey…?” She gently slapped his cheeks, trying to bring him back to his senses; he didn’t. She then grabbed a single hair around his beard and pulled it harshly. That one did the job. “
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I-SHILREYCHAPTER 17Shirley mildly hears the sounds of her surroundings; she notices that it’s a lot different from the sounds she usually hears at that time of the night, when she’s sleeping. She would usually hear the fan blowing air unto her, or the A.C, doing the same as the fan – when she decides to use that one instead, or the single beep sound alerting her of a notification from an email or from her I-message. This time, the sound was a lot different and foreign to her ears. But even still, she was asleep, though she recognized everything. She was the kind of person who would sleep and go in deep, but would still hear and notice everything in her surroundings. That is, if she’s not dreaming at the time. The loud hoots from the owls around were enough to make sleeping Shirley’s sub consciousness realize she was in a different place at the time, but still, wasn’t enough to wake her up. The howls did that. The loud h
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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
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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,
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
