Why, oh why don't I get reviews? *wails*
Is my stuff so bad that I don't even deserve a flame?
I think this part is to be rated R for the amount of blood.
----------
The coppery smell of blood hung heavily in the air
Despite the bright daylight outside the place was dark. It had few windows and those existent were painted black in order to keep out whatever light might ever want to accidentally make its way in. Right now the sun was surely glad it had not to light this scene up. Else it would have hidden behind heavy, raining, weeping clouds.
The few lamps that hung on the walls were not meant to lighten up anything. They only were spots of color that added up to the dark ambience of the place. //Gothic// came to Warrick's mind. The only bright source of light was the camera's flashlight Nick was welding.
*FLASH!*
A bloody hand curled around a metal-pillar. The way the fingers held onto the painted iron transmitted a sense of despair.
*FLASH!*
A dead body on the dance-floor, the black clothes mercifully absorbing the color of the blood, but shining wet since they were soaked with the fluid of life that was drained from the now lifeless form they covered.
*FLASH!*
A face, now hardly identifiable as such, cuts cris-crossing in all angles, flesh sagging red from white bone, eyeball looking weirdly big and round with the lids slid and pulled apart. Hairdo hinted it was a girl...
Warrick kicked himself mentally, ripping himself out of the trance-like examination. His eyes adjusted to the dim light. //who's gonna tell their parents? Why were they killed?//
"Officer, can we get some light in here? Try to find us a portable halo, please." Warrick heard Gil's voice calmly beside him.
"Grissom! For God's sake you're here!" Nick called over with relief, carefully starting to make his way over to the entrance where his supervisor was still standing.
"How many?" Gil asked
"Five dead here and three survivors. They're in hospital already. Not sure if they're –"
"Sara?" Gil called the woman, "You and Warrick are driving to the hospital and gather whatever evidence is still available."
"But Gris, I want – " Sara opposed.
"Sara, please: don't argue. Get there and make sure you get the shoeprints of the paramedics as well, so we can rule theirs out of the evidence." Grissom's voice left no room for arguments. Warrick gave Sara a helpless shrug and the two set off for the hospital.
Nick gave Grissom a briefing about what they knew:
"The maiden who usually does the cleansing found them about three hours ago. No witnesses. No suspect. The bartender on duty is among the dead as well. The owner arrived here after police had called him, identified his employee. As far as I can tell somebody really freaked out and... left. That's it."
Gil put on gloves and started to examine the closest corpse. Face and throat slit open with several cuts. Suddenly a commotion at the entrance distracted his attention. The police carried in a portable light and switched it on.
"Ah, much better!" Gil turned around, "Can you direct it at the ceiling? Thank you officer." In the much brighter light the supervisor continued his examination.
"Clean cuts. The blade has been very sharp, thin, like a scalpel or a razor. Different depths of the cuts as well as different angles." He stated.
"Like somebody in rage." Cath took up the train of thought.
"Exactly." Gil glanced up with a small smile. They were a good team if it came to theories. No, they were a good team all the time. After all, they were friends. "I bet during autopsy we will find that some cuts started on the left, some on the right" he made a waving move with his hand to mimic the killer's moves.
"How about the weapon?" he asked. Cath shook her head.
"Nothing." Nick said.
"So we hope the survivors will give us some clues." This was a massacre. And at this moment it looked like a complete senseless one //are there massacres that make sense at all?//
"Where have you been, Gil? We tried to find you for over an hour!" Cath asked with a low voice.
"I did not want to be disturbed." The man took his eyes not off the scene he was examining.
"We were worried." She added.
"I appreciate you care, I really do. Even I have moments I don't want to have spoiled, Catherine. As much as I work, I do have a life, you know?" Gil cocked one eyebrow. He knew people used to say CSI was his life. Well, it was an enormous part, yes. But not all. And he had the feeling that his private life was just on a good road by now.
"Sure. It's just – it's unlike you."
"Ah, what's this?" by moving a reflection caught his eyes and Gil moved his head to catch it again so he could tell where exactly it originated. Cath made a face: the man was now completely back into his world of investigation. He stood and walked to the wall in a very determined manner.
"Voilá! Nick, can you come over and take a picture?" After that Gil picked something up from the dark linoleum. A straight razor, blood all over. And it looked like some cheap piece they sold in every drugstore. The thin layer of blood had dried on the handle and left a structure that looked like the print of a palm. Gil looked very satisfied.
Cath held out an evidence-bag. "Gil? Are you wearing after-shave?"
"You know that I don't."
"You said so. But " Cath sniffled once more, "this is new. What is it?"
"Axe. Shower-gel." Gil stated matter-of-factly, "Could you concentrate on the case at hand?" inwardly he cursed. These curious CSIs! Noticing the tiniest indicators not only of the cases they worked, but of all their surroundings.
"Sure. Sorry." Cath excused. Gil was right. They had a gruesome case here and more than enough to do.
For a while they kept working silently with their usual efficiency. Nick sighed with the load of fingerprints he was taking. A disco. The dark counter was completely dusted over with white powder and he could as well have taken a gigantic foil and spread it across the complete surface.
"Who's ever gonna process these all?" he muttered. Surprised that he go no answer Nick glanced up.
"Is there somebody new in your life, Gil?" Cath just asked with a smile.
Nick could feel his eyes jerking into Gil's direction although the man would hardly comment this. To his utter amazement his boss did so:
"Yes and no." Gil said. He locked Cath's gaze, his face showing slight amusement at the puzzled look on his friend's face.
Gil walked back to the center of the scene. He looked around, taking in the complete scene again. Taking looks at every victim from where he stood.
"Gil?" Cath inquired but he raised a finger to his lips to silence her. He was deep in thought. There was something... kind of a clue... if only he could get his finger on it! The supervisor turned around and around, staring at every victim over and over, waiting for the idea to surface. Nick and Cath stood quietly aside, waiting.
"Tell me the difference between this guy here" Gil pointed at the figure on the dance-floor, "and the others, Nick."
Is my stuff so bad that I don't even deserve a flame?
I think this part is to be rated R for the amount of blood.
----------
The coppery smell of blood hung heavily in the air
Despite the bright daylight outside the place was dark. It had few windows and those existent were painted black in order to keep out whatever light might ever want to accidentally make its way in. Right now the sun was surely glad it had not to light this scene up. Else it would have hidden behind heavy, raining, weeping clouds.
The few lamps that hung on the walls were not meant to lighten up anything. They only were spots of color that added up to the dark ambience of the place. //Gothic// came to Warrick's mind. The only bright source of light was the camera's flashlight Nick was welding.
*FLASH!*
A bloody hand curled around a metal-pillar. The way the fingers held onto the painted iron transmitted a sense of despair.
*FLASH!*
A dead body on the dance-floor, the black clothes mercifully absorbing the color of the blood, but shining wet since they were soaked with the fluid of life that was drained from the now lifeless form they covered.
*FLASH!*
A face, now hardly identifiable as such, cuts cris-crossing in all angles, flesh sagging red from white bone, eyeball looking weirdly big and round with the lids slid and pulled apart. Hairdo hinted it was a girl...
Warrick kicked himself mentally, ripping himself out of the trance-like examination. His eyes adjusted to the dim light. //who's gonna tell their parents? Why were they killed?//
"Officer, can we get some light in here? Try to find us a portable halo, please." Warrick heard Gil's voice calmly beside him.
"Grissom! For God's sake you're here!" Nick called over with relief, carefully starting to make his way over to the entrance where his supervisor was still standing.
"How many?" Gil asked
"Five dead here and three survivors. They're in hospital already. Not sure if they're –"
"Sara?" Gil called the woman, "You and Warrick are driving to the hospital and gather whatever evidence is still available."
"But Gris, I want – " Sara opposed.
"Sara, please: don't argue. Get there and make sure you get the shoeprints of the paramedics as well, so we can rule theirs out of the evidence." Grissom's voice left no room for arguments. Warrick gave Sara a helpless shrug and the two set off for the hospital.
Nick gave Grissom a briefing about what they knew:
"The maiden who usually does the cleansing found them about three hours ago. No witnesses. No suspect. The bartender on duty is among the dead as well. The owner arrived here after police had called him, identified his employee. As far as I can tell somebody really freaked out and... left. That's it."
Gil put on gloves and started to examine the closest corpse. Face and throat slit open with several cuts. Suddenly a commotion at the entrance distracted his attention. The police carried in a portable light and switched it on.
"Ah, much better!" Gil turned around, "Can you direct it at the ceiling? Thank you officer." In the much brighter light the supervisor continued his examination.
"Clean cuts. The blade has been very sharp, thin, like a scalpel or a razor. Different depths of the cuts as well as different angles." He stated.
"Like somebody in rage." Cath took up the train of thought.
"Exactly." Gil glanced up with a small smile. They were a good team if it came to theories. No, they were a good team all the time. After all, they were friends. "I bet during autopsy we will find that some cuts started on the left, some on the right" he made a waving move with his hand to mimic the killer's moves.
"How about the weapon?" he asked. Cath shook her head.
"Nothing." Nick said.
"So we hope the survivors will give us some clues." This was a massacre. And at this moment it looked like a complete senseless one //are there massacres that make sense at all?//
"Where have you been, Gil? We tried to find you for over an hour!" Cath asked with a low voice.
"I did not want to be disturbed." The man took his eyes not off the scene he was examining.
"We were worried." She added.
"I appreciate you care, I really do. Even I have moments I don't want to have spoiled, Catherine. As much as I work, I do have a life, you know?" Gil cocked one eyebrow. He knew people used to say CSI was his life. Well, it was an enormous part, yes. But not all. And he had the feeling that his private life was just on a good road by now.
"Sure. It's just – it's unlike you."
"Ah, what's this?" by moving a reflection caught his eyes and Gil moved his head to catch it again so he could tell where exactly it originated. Cath made a face: the man was now completely back into his world of investigation. He stood and walked to the wall in a very determined manner.
"Voilá! Nick, can you come over and take a picture?" After that Gil picked something up from the dark linoleum. A straight razor, blood all over. And it looked like some cheap piece they sold in every drugstore. The thin layer of blood had dried on the handle and left a structure that looked like the print of a palm. Gil looked very satisfied.
Cath held out an evidence-bag. "Gil? Are you wearing after-shave?"
"You know that I don't."
"You said so. But " Cath sniffled once more, "this is new. What is it?"
"Axe. Shower-gel." Gil stated matter-of-factly, "Could you concentrate on the case at hand?" inwardly he cursed. These curious CSIs! Noticing the tiniest indicators not only of the cases they worked, but of all their surroundings.
"Sure. Sorry." Cath excused. Gil was right. They had a gruesome case here and more than enough to do.
For a while they kept working silently with their usual efficiency. Nick sighed with the load of fingerprints he was taking. A disco. The dark counter was completely dusted over with white powder and he could as well have taken a gigantic foil and spread it across the complete surface.
"Who's ever gonna process these all?" he muttered. Surprised that he go no answer Nick glanced up.
"Is there somebody new in your life, Gil?" Cath just asked with a smile.
Nick could feel his eyes jerking into Gil's direction although the man would hardly comment this. To his utter amazement his boss did so:
"Yes and no." Gil said. He locked Cath's gaze, his face showing slight amusement at the puzzled look on his friend's face.
Gil walked back to the center of the scene. He looked around, taking in the complete scene again. Taking looks at every victim from where he stood.
"Gil?" Cath inquired but he raised a finger to his lips to silence her. He was deep in thought. There was something... kind of a clue... if only he could get his finger on it! The supervisor turned around and around, staring at every victim over and over, waiting for the idea to surface. Nick and Cath stood quietly aside, waiting.
"Tell me the difference between this guy here" Gil pointed at the figure on the dance-floor, "and the others, Nick."