Hi guys!
This is my very first story on this website ever! I hope you like it, and I'd love to read your comments and reviews. Oh, before I forget, my mother language is not English, so there my be some grammar or spelling mistakes... sorry about that ;)
Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me, just Mark Anthony... he's all mine ;)
Love, cupcake01
Nevada desert, 1998
It was hot. The sun burned down on the ground of Nevada's desert. Usually, there wasn't any human being; it was not a nice place to travel through. But today was a different day.
Mark Anthony slammed the door of his car when he got out. It was a black SUV, dirty and the once dark paint was nearly grey. The car probably was over 10 years old. For Mark, it wasn't a big deal. He'd get a new car within the next days anyway. He went to the backside of the car and opened the trunk. He carried something out of the trunk and shut its door again. The "something" was a long white bag, and apparently heavy. But he didn't have to carry it very long. Just out of the car, and his job was done. Two minutes later, he drove off.
Present
Yeah, today was a different day. Gil Grissom sat in his office, going through files. He didn't know why, but he had strange feeling about his shift today. Something was wrong, and he hated the fact he couldn't identify his problem. If there was a problem anyway.
He didn't even hear a knock from his office door.
"Gil?" Catherine's voice. Grissom looked up and saw straight in her friendly smiling face.
"Yes Catherine, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"Um, well, it's about an old case in 1998", she said, beginning to get nervously. It was strange; she didn't act uncomfortably, usually.
"In 1998?" Grissom couldn't remember any conspicuous cases at this time. It was a successful but quiet year. "What's the problem?" he asked curious.
"Well, do you remember a Mark Anthony? The "Desert Killer" ?" Yes, he did remember. It the case was really though; Mark Anthony, better known as the "Desert Killer", tortured his innocent victims, made them to call their families to see them suffering, killed them and finally buried them in the Desert of Nevada. Grissom could remember how hard it was to find the victims and finally their killer. It was through his car, a black old SUV.
"Yeah, I remember the case". Grissom just said. Catherine didn't have to know all the details.
"Um, well, Mark Anthony just escaped from prison". She said.
Well, at least Grissom knew what his problem was.
Greg Sanders was in an extremely good mood. His shift will start in two hours, he woke up at 4 p.m. He took a shower, changed into his working cloths and trunk a cup of fresh coffee. During this procedure, he was listening to his favourite Marilyn Manson Mix on his IPod. He could relax because his apartment was just 10 minutes away from the CSI lab. The music got through his ears; he was looking forward to work tonight. His partner will be Nick, and with him, it always was a good shift. Nick was like his elder brother he never had, and he also was a good trainer. Greg was just in the beginning of being a CSI. He was curious but sometimes also careless. And Nick always carried for him, no matter what. Greg whished that he could do something in return. Maybe there was a time when he can help Nick with something.
The music was really loud. Greg drunk his coffee, satisfied about his start of the day. He didn't even hear the door opening. And he didn't saw the person, creeping in front of the wall into the kitchen, where Greg was standing. He neither didn't notice that the person when the person was behind him, holding a cloth soaked in a strange liquid. Just as the person pressed the cloth on his face, he noticed that there was something. And then, everything went black.