So one night, as I was watching CSI and Law 'n Order really late, while under the evil influence of Nyquil, I thought "What if the FLOCK were detective what-sists? That would be SO FREAKING COOL!"
I wrote it down somewhere, and just recently stumbled across it during English as I had written it on some random page in my notebook. I've been having some serious writing block/ muse issues, and that got the writing juices flowing again. I wrote the first chapter during study hall, in my Spanish notebook…
So here it is…. A random little story brought on by Nyquil, which some consider a blessing, I consider among LSD. Enjoy.
Dawnie.
P.S. Some background info so you don't wtf. Fang and Nudge are half siblings, share a mom. Angel is not related to Gazzy. They are all grown up, just FYI. (Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride, or any of super duper genius Jimmy P.'s characters. I also don't own Law and Order or CSI. Thanks.)
Walk The Beat
I stepped through the door into what was rather chaotic scene. My hand tugged my blond curls that she had managed to stuff into a tidy bun. It was actually late, the sun had set on New York a while ago, but that was when the Lieutenant had said to arrive at the station. I was proud of making it this far. I'm petite, small and delicate around the face. As my instructor at the academy had said: "Ange, you'll always have to prove yourself. Most'll write you off, but ya gotta stick to your guns, and prove you're tough."
i had taken those words to heart. So now, i took a shaky breath and wove my way through the desks to the closed door that read Lieutenant Max Ride. I set her shoulders and knocked firmly on the door. Please don't be a bureaucratic old man, who thinks I'm a joke. Please, please. I thought.
"Enter!" said a decidedly female, clipped voice. I opened the door and saw a pretty, blonde-brunette sitting behind a desk heaped with papers. She glanced up from whatever she was reading and nodded briskly.
"Ah, yes. Detective Angelina Molto. I am Lieutenant Max Ride. Call me Max, everyone does. Welcome to Homicide. Anyways, err; your senior partner took off to a crime scene a few minutes ago. I can give you the address. I'm sorry about this, but Nick is a bit of a wild card. Now where is that- oh. Found it." She handed me a card with Detective Nick Remy's info on the front. On the back was an address, scribbled in black pen.
"Err, thanks Li- Max." I stammered.
"Not a problem, dear, my door is always open." She said, waving her hand and returning to the surprising number of papers on her desk.
Needless to say, it took a while to find the place. It was one of those big warehouses outside of the city. Lights flashed against the walls. It was a familiar scene for me. "Hey!" a guy called as I crossed the tape. "What do you think you're doing? Police only!" He cried.
I flipped out my badge. "Detective Angel Molto. I'm Nick Remy's new partner. Where's the vic?"
The man looked abashed. "Oh, sorry Detective. Fa-Nick's inside. He said not to touch anything until you came. From the looks of it, there's a psycho on the loose." I nodded. Embarrassingly enough, I was used to that. I evidently don't look like a cop.
Inside was a quiet hum of activity. There was another tape line. What was enclosed by it was horrifying.
A young man lay on his stomach, his arms outstretched. A pair of wings was drawn in blood along the body. I gasped. I had seen some disturbing things, but this struck home.
Shivers ran up the wings that were no longer there. Err, should I have really said that? No. I had left that behind. I hoped.
"Sweetie, it's best if you forget." My mother said. I hated this. The mistake, the experiment. It was wrong. And soon it would be over. The wings would be gone- forever. The other things would be there, the telekinesis, and the different blood and air sacs. I would never go to a hospital. I couldn't risk discovery. Never, ever. This was now the past. I was a normal human girl. Angelina Molto would blend in.
I shuddered. I hate things like that. Why did I have wings? Who knows. My parents got them removed when I was 6. I was normal now. Don't think about it, Ange.
I was brought to the present by an argument that was happening next to the body. "You not only smoke in a crime scene, you spit too? I mean, Fang, puh-leaze! Respect the forensics. You are screwing with my trace particulates!" shouted a tall, angular, thin man who had pale red hair and translucent skin. His jacket read Forensics.
The guy he was shouting at was one of the hottest guys I had seen. The dude yelling had to be 6' 5" at least and the other was only a few inches shorter. I was using my excellent detective skills, and deduced that he was 'Fang'. What kind of name is Fang? Dark hair, olive skin, black skinny jeans, skin tight black tee and leather jacket, 'Fang' belonged on a runway, not a crime scene. The offending cigarette dangled from his lips as he crouched next to the body to examine it.
I was doing a lot of deep breathing today. Maybe I should take up yoga or something. I walked to the line and coughed. The two men spun and looked at me. Fang gave a sly grin and motioned me over. "You're Angelina Molto, right?" he said around his cigarette. "This is Iggy and Gazzy. They're forensics." He gestured to the blonde kid who couldn't be over 20.
Gazzy nodded at me. He was holding a camera. "Err, just Angel, please. Are you," she looked down at the card Max had given her, "Nick Remy?"
Fang nodded. "Call me Fang. Everyone does."
"Why?" I asked, nervously. "Cause I'm mean." He said, snickering. I suppose I looked slightly perturbed because Iggy snorted and shook his head.
"Don't believe him, Angel. It's because his canines came in first when he was a baby, and he was a bitter." Iggy shook his head and turned back to the body. I nodded slowly.
"What do we got?" I inquired. Fang spun on his heels and pointed at Gazzy. It was funny to see him, and I giggled.
"Mmm, kay. Male, Mid-20s. Caucasian, obvie. Dead about 6 hours. Cause of death: Blunt force Trama. No id."
Fang walked once around the body and then looked at Iggy. "Got everything?" he inquired.
"As much as I can here." Iggy said, packing up his kit. Fang turned and gestured to the ME to come and take away the body.
"Come on, Ange. Let's go report to Max at the station." I followed Fang out of that place of death.
What do you think? Weird or what? I enjoy Fang as a detective. This story will have Fax and Nazzy. Maybe some Eggy, but I don't know. So R, R and F. Anyone who reviews will get a cyber-muffin.
Hugs, Dawnie