Seven Bodies
Det. Kate Beckett stared at the phone until her eyes stung, attempting to prevent it from ringing for the fifth time this hour.
Feeling somewhat satisfied that it hadn't rung yet Kate stood up to stretch her stiff legs.
The phone started to ring. Kate kicked the desk chair with her foot.
"God I'm exhausted, please let me go home!" And with that, she picked up the phone.
This phone call was different than the others. One everyone would come to regret.
After a long car ride to Twin Elms, in Longsborrow County, Kate and her team arrived at a gigantic house. One of Kate's colleagues nudged her in the rib, and whispered, "The butler did it." She smiled and got out of the car.
"Seven bodies?" Kate said a little too loud. The policeman nodded without speaking.
Sure enough, there were seven heads, 14 arms, and 14 legs cut up and ripped apart stored in the exposed wall.
Jim Archer
Jim was an average guy, average height, average weight, and average looks.
He made average money, lived in an average house, and had an average love life.
The American Dream.
After a long hard day of selling cars, Jim headed to the local bar for a drink. He glanced at his average watch and laughed, it was only 6:30 at night. Jim knew it would be a long night.
Jim sat at his usual spot in the corner and waited. The bartender saw him and smiled. The bartender knew Jim a little to well.
"What will it be tonight Jim?" The bartender asked.
"Hmm… How about a beer."
"Coming right up!" And the bartender left only to return seconds later with a drink in his hand.
"Thanks, Marty." The bartender nodded as he turned to help a wobbly customer.
Jim drank in peace as his thoughts became numb, and incoherent.
Jim woke up in his car the next morning. His head felt like someone had shoved a nail through his ear and was pressing against his brain.
"Great… hangover…" It was 4:30 am, and Jim wasn't entirely sure where he was. Without thinking, he went back to sleep.
"JIM WAKE UP!" A screeching feminine voice woke his dreamless sleep. It's almost 8:30 pm. Jim slept through his job.
He'd also forgotten about the bars evening staff, when Marty wasn't there Melinda filled in. Melinda… the loud mouthed, big nosed, whore.
"Melinda," Jim groans "it's not that late!"
"You slept through your job, fatass." Melinda snorted
Without replying, Jim sat up looking through the windshield at the bar's deteriorating wooden door. And started laughing.
"What?" Melinda looked through the windshield seeing nothing.
"Nothing, Melinda." And with that Jim pulled out of the parking lot and left.
Jim opened the small closet and put his coat away, when he felt it.
Kate Beckett
And just like that… he was dead. He had no past, and now Jim Archer had no future.
And it was up to Kate Beckett to understand Jim's lonely past.