And yet ANOTHER new story. Again, I'm starting these stories in an attempt to gain more interest in myself so I can earn enough funding through patrons to finish ALL of my stories, new and old! A better explanation is in my bio here.
This is the last of the new full novel stories I want to start for now. I'm now planning on going back to all four of em (Dimension Q, Demons Don't Have Queens, Not Our First Abduction, and this one) and adding just a few more chapters to really set things into motion before I decide where to post the rest of the tale. So expect new chapters for all of those at random intervals! It all depends on what im inspired by at the moment.
Okay, final note, this story is an AU. It is an old creation of mine called For the Birds. All of the characters are different species of birds according to their personalities and looks. They live together in a huge, forested canyon valley, where they build houses and such in the treetops and live in an advanced society like ours. Sooooo pretty much just Ace Attorney but birds.
Just like the cases in the game, we're starting off with a pre-case scene, so no Phoenix in this chapter I'm afraid. Still, this one is important! It's got tons of little hints and clues that will come into play later!
So please read, review, and enjoy! ANd please be sure to check my bio and my patron site (put an e between the o and n) and consider donating to keep my stories public and to gain access to all sorts of bonuses!
Chapter 1: Hands of Fate
"Cause of death: Blunt force trauma to the skull leading to a subdural hematoma and resulting brain death.
"Manner of death:..."
Morgan let out a lengthy sigh as he wearily stared at the empty field on the document before him, running a wing of scarlet and sapphire feathers slowly down his exhausted, ghost white face. Flipping the pen around absentmindedly between his dexterous toes, he turned once more to the partially dissected bird beside him, gazing intently at his open throat and all the tissues within. He could still see it; the inconstancy was staring him right in the face. It was an injury that just didn't add up with the others. He had been doing this job long enough to know that something about this case just wasn't right.
Finally, with a resigned exhale of defeat, he scrawled the word 'undetermined' onto the deceased bird's autopsy report.
Careful to keep the papers free of blood or other bio-hazardous contaminants, the brightly colored macaw returned the document to its laminated folder and tossed the entire thing onto the sterile desk behind him. He gently fluttered onto the perch beside the examining table once more, feeling the need to check his findings one last time just to be absolutely sure he had filled the report out correctly.
Using the one foot still covered in three protective layers of vinyl and plastic 'gloves', Morgan gently took hold of the top of the decedents exposed skull and guided his head to the side. Morgan had removed a small square of bone earlier and set it aside, revealing a section of the brain beneath it. Pooled between the brain and the protective dura encasing it was a huge patch of deep, dark blood, nearly black in color and thick from clotting. So much had built up in the narrow space that the protective lining had begun to balloon outward. When the skull piece had been in place, that ballooning failed to budge the bone wall before it, and so pushed instead on the delicate gray matter for room. The damage from that pressure was still evident after the bones removal; the normally smeary gray color of the brain tissue behind the clot had begun to turn the dark, sickly color of necrotic tissue. Morgan glanced at the bone piece in the tray beside him, marveling once again at the almost star shaped fracture surrounded by spidering cracks all around.
There was no question in Morgan's mind. Something large had struck this bird hard on the side of his head. His dura began to bleed until the pressure on his brain was high enough to cause permanent damage, and he quickly passed away. That part was certain. And with all the other minor bruising and blunt trauma elsewhere on his body, it really did seem to support the witnesses claims that he had fallen while in flight, hitting several large boughs on his way down. There was just one part that didn't fit in.
The medical examiner now switched his focus to the inconsistent injury, gingerly pushing apart the tissues of his throat. When he had dissected the victims neck during the routine autopsy, he noticed a particular fracture that threw the entire case up in the air. The birds hyoid bone, a small, horseshoe like ridge found in the neck of most every animal with a tongue, had been completely snapped in half. It was nearly impossible to break this bone in a fall or other accident, due to its location and substantial padding. In fact, had he hit his neck on the way down, it was more likely that his spine would've fractured first. No, a break like this required a huge amount of focused pressure maintained over a longer period of time. A cracked hyoid bone almost always marked a strangulation. And if the victim had been strangled, then the death would be that of a Homicide rather than of natural causes.
Finally, Morgan shook his head and carefully removed the bloodied gloves from his foot. He simply couldn't deny it; there was something fishy about this birds death. Even though he had been asked to autopsy the bird to prove the witness's innocence, the facts just didn't support him. Now Morgan would be forced to testify against the birds who had hired him. The scarlet macaw sighed again in frustration; testifying in court, especially against those who initially called upon him, was something he had always detested. This trial would no doubt be painful and unforgiving for all those involved.
Morgan pulled the loose sheet back over the body of the deceased Rock Dove, finally free of his glossy eyed staring at everything and nothing. Moving quickly and precisely, the medical examiner returned the sterile metal stretcher to its assigned slot in the temperature controlled morgue cooler, locking the slot's door and marking it with the same number found on the dead bird's toe tag. Until the victims tissue samples that had been sent away for screening came back from the lab, there wasn't really much else this body could tell him.
With an occasional yawn, Morgan thoroughly hosed down the entire autopsy room. Everything from the tables to the cabinets to the floors had been designed to be waterproof, making it remarkably easy to clean. Rusty red brown blood swirled with the water down the drains in the floor as all the signs of death washed away with the night. By the time everything was sterilized and ready for another day of forensic medical examinations, Morgan was quite exhausted.
He wasn't, however, ready to turn in for the night just yet. There was still something about his newest case that just didn't feel right, and nothing he did could shake that nagging feeling. As he stood atop the tree branch and locked the morgue behind him, he decided he would make one quick stop on his way back home, just to take a look.
With a mighty leap, Morgan took off, gracefully soaring on the evening winds; riding the breeze, weaving through the vast tree networks as he made his way down the canyon. He was on his way towards the canyon's edge, the alleged accident site where the rock dove's brutally beaten body had been found pathetically draped over a low, thick bough, strikingly crimson blood running down his face and dripping from his beak. Morgan wanted to see the site for himself. Perhaps something about the crime scene could explain to him something the body had failed to mention. It was a bit of a hard headed move; the canyons edge had never really been the safest place. This advanced avian society was exclusively found in the gorge of this vast, red canyon. Within it, birds of all species lived harmoniously with one another, having built a thriving community atop the highest branches of the trees. But the rocky walls marked the borders of their intelligent civilization. Very little was known about the area beyond the canyons walls. It was essentially a no-man's-land, or perhaps a no-birds-sky, where the rules put forth by society ceased to be enforced. Few canyon birds ever exited their rocky borders, and even fewer managed to come back afterwards.
But Morgan assured himself that he was just taking a quick look. It was, after all, important to his current case. He wanted every last bit of info he could find before taking his theories to court.
The scarlet macaw knew he had arrived when he saw the remnants of yellow and black police tape rustling in the tree branches. He wasn't the least bit surprised to see that a few other birds had come here as well; three or four curious individuals who simply couldn't resist the urge to take a peak.
Morgan landed on the top most branch of the aging oak tree, the exact location the witness had claimed to be standing in when the victim fell from the sky. From his new perch, Morgan glanced downwards, attempting to trace the flight path of the unfortunate dove's body.
The branch he was standing on shifted, and Morgan could immediately tell that someone had landed next to him. He looked up for only a second, taking notice of the small, brightly colored song bird now beside him, but immediately dismissed him as harmless. This new bird also took a peak off the edge of the tree limb, perhaps looking to see what Morgan had found so intriguing.
"Terrible, isn't it?" The anonymous bird sighed with a weary shake of his head. "The accident, I mean. Some invisible hand of fate just plucked that poor bird from the sky... He never could've seen it coming."
Morgan couldn't help but make a low sound in disagreement. The song bird, surprised and curious, turned to get a better look at him, wondering if he planned on elaborating. "I'm beginning to wonder if it really was an accident at all." Morgan thought aloud. "The bruises, this accident site... Something just isn't right."
In the dwindling day light, the parrot could only barely see when the song birds entire face lit up with recognition. "Hey, I know you!" He chirped. "You're the medical examiner, right? What was that name... Doctor... Balmer! That's it! You're Dr. M. Balmer!"
"Morgan." The doctor turned towards the smaller bird and offered his wing as a polite greeting, but the song bird shied away from it; a reaction Morgan was all too familiar with.
"Jonah." The colorful bird nodded in response. "So you're in charge of this case, huh? And you think it wasn't an accident that killed him?"
The medical examiner turned away and shook his head. "I really shouldn't be talking about it." He shrugged, mildly disappointed in himself for bringing it up in the first place. It was against ethics to talk about an autopsy that was still an open case. But he had come this far... "But... I think that there was something more. Maybe fate was given a helping hand, so to speak."
Morgan was so wrapped up in his thoughts and his conversation with the little songbird that he almost failed to notice the third bird landing on the branch, this one a tad larger and chubbier but still of a mundane species. "I dunno... I wouldn't go saying that aloud if I were you." Jonah mumbled as he looked past the doctor to the new arrival perched behind him, but Morgan was too busy looking down to see. "See, I'm pretty sure that fate is on the witnesses side. If you start disagreeing with the witness, fate may come after you next."
"It was just one little pigeon that was fated to pass." The other mysterious bird sung in an almost musical pattern. "Best to let this one go rather than put yourself in danger, am I right?"
Suddenly, Morgan was feeling very surrounded. He lifted his head, his eyes darting quickly between the two silhouetted figures on either side of him, an ominous feeling of dread washing over him like a downpour. With adrenaline beginning to build within his veins, the parrot deftly hopped to the next branch over, turning to face the birds he had left on the previous branch. But the two unassuming strangers only looked back with expressions of mild curiosity. Though his body was sending him scores of warning signals, he still couldn't bring himself to find these common place birds dangerous.
"It's not about who the victim was or what the witness has to say about it." Morgan puffed his brilliant feathers in a mix of mild pride and irritation. "My job is to tell the bodies story, and that's just what I'll do. And if it looks like it's not an accident, then my testimony will reflect that."
The air hung in a still silence for a few moments as Morgan kept his determined gaze locked upon the other two present. After a while, the two shared a quick glance that Morgan found to be unreadable, then turned back to the doctor with oddly blank expressions.
"How very noble of you." The chubbier one began. "And how very stupid."
It was as if a black shade had been suddenly pulled down over the two birds faces. Their expressions instantly became dark, a sinister aura now seeming to radiate all around them. A spark of some kind was shining in their eyes; something twisted and unforgiving.
"I gave you fair warning, friend." Jonah droned in a lower, frightening tone. "I told you to just drop it. But it looks like we just wont be able to trust you."
The sun now almost completely gone, the next arrival to the oak tree appeared as an almost pitch black shadow. A significantly larger bird drifted in on wings drenched in darkness, landing between the others where Morgan had been standing earlier, the other birds not even casting him a glance. Even with the extreme lack of light, there was no mistaking those gleaming, glassy eyes. This was a bird of prey; a bird to be feared. And his sights were locked on the trembling parrot mere inches before him.
Morgan's mind screamed at him to take flight and escape, but he was frozen in place. Not that it would've done any good, mind you, as there was no way he could've eluded his three unknown assailants. Morgan's entire form quaked in terror, and he did his best to shrink down, hoping perhaps to disappear from the danger that had cornered him. He glanced here and there in an attempt to plot an escape route, but the three birds followed his eyes closely to predict his every move.
The ominous trio tensed themselves close to the branch, poised for take off.
"Who... Who ARE you..?" Morgan barely managed to stutter.
The largest bird slightly lifted his shadowy wings.
"We're fates helping hands."