Disclaimer: I do not own Sly Cooper. Everything else is fictional.
The Body In Room 23
Tick, tock, tick, tock; says the clock as I sit in Carmelita Fox's chair with the evening newspaper in my hand. I take a break to look at her; the face of the vixen is like a horse with a long face, I sigh. "Well, I think I should be going. I'll see you at the office Inspector Fox."
As I stand up, she stays sitting and I let out another sigh. I've been here long enough, work will be here and I need my sleep. When I head to the door, I hear a woman's scream that makes me whip round to see Carmelita with her heads in her hands. She weeps loudly; feeling sympathy and empathy I walk over to pat her, but the idea just doesn't sit right. Her loss; it's a tragic thing to deal with.
"Look Carmelita, I'm sorry Sly died, but I have to get going. Tomorrow we've got work to do. Getting a nice sleep is the best thing to do, you're a mess," I say; a short pain of stupidity shoots throughout my body as I realize some of my comments may have come off poor. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Do you know how he died?" the vixen replies through her sobs.
"No, but at any rate he should be given a proper funeral. Don't you find it weird that the force won't remove his body, or the other one from that apartment complex?"
"Th-they can't remove them. No one can remove the bodies from room 23 at that apartment complex."
"I'll talk with the chief at the office, don't worry it'll all be taken care of come…"
Carmelita whips her head; eyes blaze with fury. "They can't be removed! I forbid anyone from removing those bodies from room 23!"
"Why?"
The vixen sees her tone, possibly her face as well because she looks away in despair; her head goes back into her palms for a brief minute so she can scream. Once it's done-she becomes a zombie and looks at the ground. "We broke up after being together for a year, but I believe we both couldn't handle being without one another."
"Why'd you break up?"
"The relationship was just too complicated. He moved out to that apartment, gaining room 23 and I moved back here to my home. I never heard from him again," she looks up at me, the eyes are vacant and empty. "You know what's really weird?"
"What?"
"I had a perfect view from my home of the place, and at times I wondered if he was watching me. Funny, huh?"
"No," I reply, letting out a little chuckle. "But why can't the bodies be removed?"
"Well, this is the story I got from the neighbor that lived across from him…"
"No more theft! I don't want anything that reminds me of Carmelita!" Sly screams on the phone to his pal Bentley.
"But Sly…" replies the turtles voice; he's cut off before he can finish.
"No more jobs!"
The ex-master thief slams his phone; the conversation is done. "Why, why did it have to fall apart so quickly?" says the raccoon; he lies onto the back of his bed looking up at the peeling ceiling above him. "No more heists, but what am I going to do with my life? I'm going to need money if I want to live here, so what in the world am I going to do? I need a simple job, nothing too fancy, but something that won't remind me of my past."
The raccoon turns over on his side, looking out the window and sighs. "From this view I can see her home. Carmelita's lovely place, it seems I can't escape her no matter where I am," he flips over again; back onto his back and watches as the ceiling wallpaper falls onto his nose. He groans, dusts off the ceiling wallpaper then gets up, and grabs a seat in the chair he bought for his new living space. Another groan; he looks down at the classifieds, picks it up and begins to flip through it. "Nothing, there's not one good looking job that I find great, or appealing that I see in here that I think I'd enjoy doing."
Knock, knock; someone is at the door of the ex master thief. The raccoon stands up, walks over to the door and opens it. A rat wearing a bloodstained t-shirt and pair of jeans causes anxiety to rise for Sly.
"May, I help you?" inquires the raccoon; he clears his throat out of uncomfortably.
"You the guy that just moved in?" replies the rodent.
"Yes."
The rat holds out a hand, no blood what so ever. "Name's Romer Sovermond, I live across the hall from you."
"Nice to meet you," replies the ex master thief, he's afraid to shake his hand.
The rat takes notice, laughing, which only makes it worse for the encounter. "Don't worry, I'm not a killer. Although, I do work with bodies so I can't lie about that."
"Huh?"
"Oh, I work at the morgue with the hospital. I just got home tonight; let me tell you that it's not fair the dead gets to sleep whenever they want while people like me have to work late and help make their beds for them."
"Yeah, well, it was nice to meet you Romer."
"Same to you man. Sorry we met like this, but hey were neighbors and I'm sure that in due time we're going to be buddies in no time."
"Yeah, the feeling is mutual."
Romer laughs again, slapping the raccoon across the arm. "You crack me up…I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."
"Sly, Sly Cooper."
"Well Sly, Sly Cooper, it was great to meet you, but I've got to get some sleep myself because I've got work in the morning," replies the rat; he turns, walks over to the door to his room, and unlocks it. Romer opens his door, but before heading in he turns to look at his new neighbor. "Have a goodnight man."
"Goodnight," replies Sly, and once the rat is inside he let's out a heavy groan. "Great, just great. I've got a morgue man as a neighbor. Like this won't give me nightmares for a while, but I'd better get some sleep, or at least give it shot if I don't wake up screaming every few seconds after this meeting," says the ex-master thief and he goes back in, slamming the door shut behind him; a locking is made just in case something may go arise…
Bee, Beep, Beep, Beep, the raccoon's alarm clock is telling him to get up. Sly groans, turning over to look at the device and sighs. "It's already five? Come on, it's still dark outside," the ex master thief mumbles as he presses the snooze button. As he gets up, someone knocks on his door. The raccoon gets up, walks to the door to his room and opens it to find Romer in fresh clothes. "Darn, it wasn't a dream."
"What wasn't a dream?" inquires the rat.
"Nothing, what do you want at this early in the morning?"
"Sorry, did I wake you up."
"No, I was getting up this morning."
"Ah, did some of the ceiling wake you?"
"What?"
"There's ceiling wallpaper on your face."
"No, but thanks for telling me. What's up?"
"Well, I know our first meeting didn't go off to well; so, I made you a little welcome gift unlike the rest on this floor," replies Romer; he digs into his pocket and pulls out a small brown box. "Tinkering is sort of my hobby."
Sly reaches out, takes his little present and opens it up. "A watch; thanks a lot."
"Ah, but it's not an ordinary watch. It's a special one, with this watch you can check your heart rate, pulse, or even your temperature."
"Really?" replies the ex-master thief; he lifts it up and examines it. "That's really interesting, have you proposed this idea to your hospital. It could help them out tremendously."
"Well, that's actually a prototype. It has some issues I'm afraid."
"Like what?"
"Well for starters: it's not as accurate because there are other parts that you need for it. The other problem is that its battery power doesn't last to long; you need to charge everyday, or else it'll shut down on you and wait to have you recharge it."
"How do you recharge it?"
"That's the other issue, I haven't made one yet. However, once I've got it built, I'll give it to you."
"You really didn't have to do this?"
"It's fine, well I'll see you later. More corpses to get ready for bed."
"Ok, I'll see you later," replies Sly, and the rat disappears from sight. "I hope that if I die that this guy doesn't help me get ready for my final sleep," grumbles the raccoon, but he stops to look at the watch. "Still, this gadget of his is a nice gift. I'll put it on once I'm out of the shower, just to see how it works," says the ex-master thief; he goes back in, slams the door behind him, and locks it…
While Sly sits in his chair, looking for a job whether it is by computer, or paper, he can't help but glance from time to time to look at his the special watch around his wrist. "You know, it's a pretty cool thing. My heart rate looks ok on this, and so does by pulse; it's only the temperature I'd disagree with. There's no way that I'm that hot, I don't feel ill at all, or sick by what's it telling me on the screen here," says the raccoon; something doesn't feel right, and he looks up to see the ceiling wallpaper fall on his nose. "Great, it's doing it here too."
Beep, beep, beep, beep; the clock is going off at exactly noon. However, it shouldn't be doing that, or at least that's how the ex-master thief set it up.
"Stupid technology," growls Sly, he walks over, hits snooze, but he sees from the corner of his eye the wall behind his bed is peeling like the ceiling. "Stupid room," the raccoon groans; moving he closer he watches as the paint comes off revealing its bare wooden parts. "A dump, this whole place is a giant old building that's complete garbage."
Beep, beep, beep, beep; it's not the alarm clock Sly finds, it's his watch that makes the sound this time. He stops to look at it; his eyebrows rise up in confusion. Heart rate is dropping, pulse is falling, and temperature is starting to go down too. Sly takes a seat on his bed, watching the numbers drop to zero one-by-one. He let's out a chuckle, thinking how dumb the thing is, but then again its a prototype and has flaws. The raccoon stands up, and begins to head to the door, yet as he does so he sees the numbers set to normal readings except the temperature…
"I tell you it's the strangest thing Romer," says Sly; he moves around in his chair attempting to make himself more comfortable in his neighbor's room. "All the readings just dropped when I went by my bed."
The rat opens a can of pop; he takes a drink before answering. "It's a prototype, perhaps the vent system is behind it. Have you heard hissing sounds, or anything while going to sleep?"
"No, can't say I have."
Romer grabs a seat across the guest that's come by; he yawns, puts on a thinking face, and finally, shrugs. "It's a machine, the things probably sensitive, why don't you see if there's a vent system behind your bed?"
"Ok; I'll take a look."
"You do that, gadgets can get sensitive to cool and hot depending on the settings. It's a well known fact my friend, the same goes for bodies when you're storing them in the morgue, or at least from what I've found in my years working there."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah, leave a body out in the heat and it'll smell awful after a couple of days. Leave a gizmo in some heated place and it'll get screwed up. Please don't tell me that you never knew that technology has a temperature sensitivity."
"To be honest, I forgot. I've been so tired lately, looking for a job to support myself. Like I'm all setup and everything for this months rent, but I need to get employed to earn the rest."
The rat takes a drink form his pop; then burps loudly. "Excuse me Sly, but listen. I can help you out; we're looking for someone to help out in the morgue. Why don't you come on down, I'll vouch for you?"
"Um, no thanks."
"Understandable, not many like to work with dead bodies. But hey, it's a blast to be in there when Halloween comes around," replies Romer, he busts out laughing making the guest feel uncomfortable; the rat takes notice. "Sorry, I have a bad sense of humor."
"Well, I'd better get going. I have some job searching to do come morning."
"Wait, I've got something for you," replies Romer; the rat stands up and disappears only to return with a strange plastic box; a cord protrudes out of it. "This is the charger, I thought since I finished it up last night that I'd give it to you."
"How do I charge the watch?"
"Simple really, you open it up and place the watch into it. Then you plug in the power cord and an invisible electrical current powers it. The thing will beep over and over again to let you know when it's complete."
The ex-master thief takes the box, stands up and shakes his neighbor's hand. "Thanks, have a goodnight."
"You too Sly, and make sure to tell me what you find out about that vent system. That, or the prototype has another flaw I've just learned about."
The raccoon exits Romer's room; outside in the halls the ex-master thief stares at the door to room 23, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it out through his mouth. "A vent system? It's probable; I didn't really look over the room when I moved in. Only, it hasn't felt odd inside, in fact it's felt about average room temperature-not too hot, but not to cold. Maybe, it is just a glitch. It's just a prototype after all, hm…oh well, better get inside and get ready for tomorrow…I've got to find a job."
Sly opens the door; enter his room, but stops to stare at the wall behind his bed. His curiosity has got him thinking. "Is it really a vent?" he says, yawning loudly. "Bed time…"
Beep, beep, beep, beep; the alarm clock is going off. The ex-master thief turns over, and hits snooze. His eyes widen when he reads the time: 12:00 a.m. "I've only been asleep for about five hours? What the heck is going on here?" the raccoon moans; he rolls over onto his back, but for some reason the clock starts beeping again. "Stupid alarm clock," Sly growls, he rolls over and hits the snooze button again, yet the beeping starts once more. He grabs its cord and unplugs it, then rolls back to sleep. "There, peace and quiet."
However, the noises for this night have just begun. Sly hears another beeping sound; this time it's the charger. He lets out a small roar, stands up, unplugs the power cord, and takes out the watch. "All zero's again, huh?" he whispers, setting the watch on the table where both his alarm clock and charger sit. The ex-master thief goes is about to lie down, but this time his watch goes off beeping. "Oh come on!" he screams; grabbing the watch and his eyes widen. The measurements of everything on the screen; goes in a pattern of up then down. "Ok, this is new."
Hear hears something; a noise that's never hit his ears from how drowsy he's been at night. A small hissing sound from behind his bed enters the air. The raccoon gets up, moving it back to find indeed a small vent system. He let's out a chuckle; feeling a small relief from finding it, but when he looks at the temperature reading-his eyes widen. His room temperature is: 78, not too hot, yet not too cold.
"Wh-what?" Sly whispers, he looks at his watch, which has nothing, but zeroes. "Ok, so maybe it is a bug after all," the raccoon, says in a quiet voice; then he notices something stuck to the vent-a small piece of paper. He takes it off, reading what's written upon it. "No one shall remove this body, or else they pay a terrible price."
Sly feels a chill go down his spine; a body…is in his room? Another uncomfortable feeling goes down his back, something is watching him. He turns around and looks to see a small hole in the floor where his bed would've been. Going into his bathroom, the raccoon searches for a spare flashlight he brought in case of a power outage. Click, a light comes on; he goes back to the hole and shines the small sun upon it. His heart begins to race as he sees an eye looking up at him, a bad odors wafts up through the opening and into the nose of the ex-master thief.
"My god, what in the-how in the-why is there a dead body in my room?" Sly coughs; he covers his nose by pulling up his shirt.
Knock, knock; someone is at the door of the fairly new resident. "Sly? It's me, Romer, is everything ok? I can hear your voice from across the hall."
"No, I'm not ok."
"What's up?"
"There's a dead body in my room."
"What?"
The raccoon leaves the spot, walks over to his door then opens it. "I said there's a dead body in my room."
"I don't see any," the rat trails off when the smell hits his nose. He pulls up his own shirt, coughing at the same time. "What the hell happened in here? Did you…kill someone?"
"No, all the technology in my room woke me up, then I heard this hissing sound, found the vent, which read 78, a strange note attached to it and also this body that I think must be the one in the note."
Romer takes the note; reads it and chuckles uncomfortably. "This must be a crude joke you're playing on me, it's not funny and rather sick Sly."
"Come in and see for yourself."
The rat enters; his neighbor closes the door and takes the flashlight. "Where is it?"
The ex-master thief points to the small hole that has the moonlight shining on it. Romer walks over to it, he puts the small bright sun on it and looks away.
"My lord, what in the world is a dead body doing in here?" the rat coughs; his stomach is not doing too well. He looks up at his neighbor, blinking to get sight. "We need to call the police Sly; this guy smells like he's been here for at least a year."
"You're right," replies the raccoon, he moves over to his phone that's on the dresser for his clothes and picks it up. "I've got someone who works with the police, I'll ask her to come down and help take care of moving this body out of here."
Sly begins to dial; crash, floorboards break not too far away from the caller. Romer let's out a horrifying scream; the ex-master thief turns to see the corpse has risen from its spot. It grabs the rat and throws him across the room. The body moves; its destination is the dialer. The raccoon dodges its grab attack, gets his cane and swings it, but it only breaks like the wooden floorboard. The body grabs Sly, turning its head and let's out a deep chuckle.
"Sly!" screams the rat.
"Let go of me! Let go of me!" the ex-master thief roars; he attempts to break free, but his moves are useless against the dead. "Romer, help me!"
The rat stands up, rushes forward to attack, but the monster doges his move. Romer watches as the corpse walks over to the big hole in the floor with Sly; the creature snaps his neighbor's neck. The two dead fall down into the floor, vanishing in the night; the only survivor blacks out from shock…
"When morning came, Romer came to and found the floor had been fixed, but there were now two small holes and a new note, which read: These bodies shall not be removed from this room, or else a terrible price must be paid," says the vixen; she shutters and let's out a small sneeze.
"Carmelita, I'd hate to break it to you, but that guy has been labeled as a paranoid schizophrenic. He's crazy in other words; he's in custody because he may have very well killed those two in room 23. How could he possibly know all of what you've told me?" I reply, letting out a small groan.
"Well, maybe crazies have a point sometimes in their life. Maybe the stuff they say can make sense at a time, what's so hard to believe in a story like that?"
"Well, it's just not possible…"
"Then let me ask this, go with me to the apartment and look into the two holes. Stare into them, and tell me what you see."
"Why should I? It'd be wasteful of my time, we've got work tomorrow."
"It'll only take a minute, you'll see something that I'm sure will convince you."
"Ok, then let's go, but I'm telling you that the guy's story is a farce…"
Inspector Fox and I travel to the apartment complex. Room 23 is shut off to the public until the case is done. When we enter, I go over to the two holes with a flashlight and look inside them. I can't help, but drop my tool and stare in horror at what I find. I see in the eyes of the dead, "those" events play as if they were film on a screen, over and over again. I can't explain it; it's shaken me. I've fall into a constant debate with myself asking, what went on during Sly's stay here in this place?