Hell Happened

A Jennifer's Body story

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from Jennifer's Body or it's setting. Those are owned by Diablo Cody. Lyrics to Jenny (867-5309) written by Tommy Tutone.

Time frame: One week after the events of the movie

Part One: Off The Record

The Ford Focus smelled of KFC, Burger King, and Waffle House coffee all mixed together. This was Detective Morris Samuel's diet for the past eight hours driving from St. Cloud to the small town of Devil's Kettle. Now that he parked in front of the only police precinct in the town, he was glad to escape his portable prison. Morris hated driving. His Chief knew this. But he had to come to Devil's Kettle. Not only was it the focus of several deaths in the past few months, but it had also been a connection to the case Morris was currently working on.

When he exited the car he relished the frigid, yet clean air. The heat in the Focus did it's job but he wished he had an air freshener. He took one look at the one level rectangular-shaped building that acted as Devil's Kettle police department and morgue.

He grimaced and uttered, "No wonder there's been so many deaths here. It's run by the Bates Motel." Which scared him because he hadn't been by the Motel 6 yet to get settled in first. It was almost dusk so he had time to get a pizza and a pack of Bud Light later. First, he had to see the Devil's Kettle Sheriff. He so hoped he had more sense than Andy Griffith.

He entered the building whistling the Andy Griffith Show theme. He cringed because now the tune would not escape his head for the rest of the night. Inside he was greeted by a big-boned female officer behind the counter. She told him to wait a moment. Within a few minutes a hefty ash-haired man appeared from the side hallway. Not quite Andy Griffith, thought Morris. More Wilford Brimley.

"Hey, how ya doin'?" He extended his hand and Morris shook it. "Sheriff Carl Nesbit."

"Detective Morris Samuel."

"Glad you could make it. How was your trip?"

"Long and cold."

"Ahhh, this ain't cold. Come January you ought to come up and then we'll talk cold. Come on back to my office." After Morris was led the way through the hall, the sheriff addressed the female officer behind the counter. "Uh, Dina, tell John the detective from St. Cloud is here and have him come on back."

She gave a small nod and the sheriff followed Morris to his office. He offered Morris a seat in front of his desk and then sat in the chair behind it. He leaned back and the chair creaked so much that it sounded like it was going to fall apart at any moment.

Sheriff Nesbit stated, "Well, we've got one helluva case here."

"I'm sorry. We?"

"Yeah. The murders of all them boys. Then the murder of Jennifer Check by her best friend."

"I am familiar with your case. In fact, I believe there's a connection to it with mine. It's the reason why I came up here."

"I thought you came up here because my medical examiner called you."

"If he did, I missed the message. I'm here anyway."

"Well, I'm having him come in soon and tell you about it. I can't make hide nor hair what he says. I hope you can."

Morris assured him, "I was in the forensics department before I became a detective."

"Is that right? Had your own CSI: St. Cloud, eh?"

"Sort of. Did your medical examiner perform an autopsy on Ms. Check?" The sheriff nodded. "What prompted that? Didn't she die of a direct stab wound to the heart?"

"With a box cutter knife."

"So, why the autopsy?"

"Eh, the family wanted it."

"Why?"

"To tell ya the truth, I think they believed their daughter and Needy were doing drugs together."

"But nothing was found."

"Oh, I wouldn't say nothin'. No drugs anyway."

"Then what?"

As if on cue, the sound of knocking was heard and a dark-skinned man with grey flecks in his short-cropped hair appeared in the doorway. He was carrying a manilla folder. "Are you the detective I called from St. Cloud?"

Morris stood to greet the man and answered, "Yes, but don't remember you calling me. I came on my own. I believe our cases are connected.."

The man held out his hand which Morris took and said, "Dr. John Forsam. And you have no idea how connected."

The doctor sat in the chair beside Morris as the detective asked, "So what else did you find on Jennifer Check's body?"

"You read my initial report?"

"I did. Seems cut and dry. Maybe a little too cut and dry."

"What d'ya mean?" asked the sheriff.

"Well, Needy–Anita Lesnicky–had no prior convictions at all, much less murder. She never showed any signs of psychological problems to suggest she could perform murder. Up until that night, of course. Didn't her own boyfriend die that same night?"

"Chip Dove," the doctor supplied. "That's part of the reason I called you. I am aware that you are in charge of the Low Shoulder murders. I'm sure you made the connection between the band and Devil's Kettle."

Morris answered, "The Melody Lane fire. The tragedy that made you famous. I know the reports that the members of Low Shoulder helped people out of the fire. I've researched the band for just a week and can tell you that would be the last thing that band would volunteer for. From what I've heard of their music they were a hack Pop band anyway."

The sheriff cut in, "If I gotta hear that god-damned song of theirs on the radio again, I'm kicking in the radio."

The doctor ignored the sheriff, something it seemed he was used to doing, and he asked Morris, "What kind of connections do you have?"

"For one, we have Needy caught on camera at the hotel the band was killed in. The timing is right before the bodies were discovered. At this time she's only wanted for questioning. There were no prints on the knife we found stuck in the lead singer's gullet. I have a strong suspicion that she's involved. We haven't found her yet though."

"You read the facts about her escape?"

"They seem incredible but I'm sure there's an explanation for it. Someone on the inside."

The sheriff scoffed and said, "That girl hung out with two people and they're both dead. She didn't know anybody on the inside. Anybody who got close to her at the nut factory were kicked half to death."

The doctor stated, "And with what I have to show you, you may have a different definition of incredible."

"What's that mean? What exactly did you find?"

"Are you familiar with DNA blood typing?"

"I am, actually."

"While I was performing the routine typing of Jennifer's blood I found something rather startling. Her type was AB+, which is common enough. But there also was a B- within the same sample."

"Could be any number of reasons why."

The doctor reached into the folder and handed Morris a sheet of paper. "Not this many reasons."

Morris took it and read. "Chip Dove's blood type was B- also."

The sheriff suddenly exclaimed, "Can we please do this without all the mumbo jumbo? Sounds like a damn episode of Law & Order in here."

The doctor sighed and said, "This mumbo jumbo is why the detective is here, Carl."

Morris read further down and his eyes widened. "Are you sure these are correct? Four different blood types in the same sample?"

"Conducted the test three times."

"There are names here of the ones who had each blood type. Who are they?"

"Colin Gray, Jonas Konelle, and Ahmet Surinder."

Morris took a moment before he uttered, "The three male victims. Wait, wasn't Ahmet one of the fatalities of the Melody Lane fire?"

"We thought so until his body was found in the woods near Carmen Street."

The sheriff added, "That street is on the way to Melody Lane. He looked just like the others. Lasagna with teeth."

"They were mutilated, Carl," said Dr. Forsam.

Morris questioned, "So how did all four of the victim's blood end up in Jennifer Check's body?"

"That is the question," the doctor replied. "But there's more."

"More?"

"When I performed the internal exam of the autopsy, I kept noticing hints of several incisions along the lining of her sternum. She had no history of any kind of operation so I looked at the organs carefully. Her stomach especially had signs of puncture wounds."

"I don't understand. Those kind of wounds would be obvious on the outside. I saw none in the post mortem pictures."

"Normally, yes. These wounds were just traces. Almost like they had been..."

"What?"

"Healed...for the lack of a better term."

Morris crinkled his brow. "Dr. Forsam, internal puncture wounds don't just heal."

"I know."

"Uh huh." Morris looked to the sheriff and then to the doctor. "I'm assuming these findings aren't on record."

The sheriff burst out, "You got that right. I ain't having my town turn into the Blair Witch Project."

Morris countered with, "And my name isn't Fox Mulder and there are no X-Files."

The doctor chuckled. "That isn't why I called specifically for you, Detective."

"Then why did you call me?"

"I looked into your background. I know you were stuck in the forensics department wishing for more. I also knew you don't make waves. I would like for you to see her for yourself."

The sheriff added, "Yeah, before it's committed to the ground."

"Before she is committed to the ground, Carl. The body has a name. Show some respect."

"Respect? For the town slut? That bitch got away with everything because she was hot looking. She had several of my officers in her back pocket."

"And it's possible she got away with murder."

Morris added, "And Needy stopped her." He took a moment to ponder that scenario and then shook his head. "No. That's impossible. What killed those boys wasn't human. It couldn't have been Jennifer Check."

The doctor said, "If you see the body, you may change your mind about that."

Morris stated, "Take me to her."