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Zombie in Z Minor Part 3

Marty was so eager to get away from the body that it wasn't until he was sitting in the carriage with the officer and moving through the streets of Salzburg that he realized he was off to meet the murderer.

He wanted to jump out of the carriage and run as fast as he could, but he knew he would get lost. At least this way the Doctor would know where to find him. Marty tried to keep his calm as the officer escorting him sized him up.

"Is it true? You were really sent by the Holy Roman Emperor?"

Marty almost asked if he meant the Pope, but he decided to try and play it cool.

"This is top secret stuff. I can't answer that," as cool as he could manage under the circumstance anyway.

"I'm on your side, aren't I?"

Marty shot him a look and the officer interpreted the stress in Marty's eyes for intensity and let the matter go.

They finally pulled up in front of the station and as Marty stepped out he finally looked around at the grand buildings of this 18th century city. It looked just like the movies, only there were no cameras or electric lights anywhere. These buildings probably still stood in his day, but here and now they seemed fresh and vivid.

"This way sir," the officer led him into the building and down to the basement. They were almost instantly plunged into darkness. Very few candles were on the walls here to light the jail cells.

The officer stopped at the last cell door. Inside a young man in his twenties was huddled in a corner, holding his knees up to his chest, rocking back and forth.

"We haven't gotten any information from him. Not even his name," the officer unlocked the cell door and held it open for Marty.

Marty cautiously entered the cell, the officer closing it behind him.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To be honest sir, I don't like the feel of him. I'd rather wait outside. Just call us when you're finished," he locked the door and walked away.

"I don't know what's worse, aliens trying to cut me up or being locked in jail with a murderer," Marty muttered to himself as he looked over at the man.

It was hard to get a good look at him with his face burrowed into his knees, but the murder suspect had long dark stringy hair that fell into his face.

"Um… hi…" Marty struggled to find the words. He didn't know what to say to a murderer or how to get information out of one.

The man continued to rock back and forth, ignoring Marty. Despite his better judgment he took a few steps forward, until he could hear a noise coming from the man. He was muttering to himself.

"Can you, uh, tell me what happened?" Marty reached out to touch the man, trying to get his attention, but before his fingers could even brush his shoulder the man's head snapped up and he glared at Marty with clear dark brown eyes.

"I did not kill him!"

Marty jumped back, trying to keep his cool and not look startled.

"Okay, okay. Just tell me what happened. That's all I need to know," he hoped.

"I was going to work," his eyes wandered away, glazing over as he fell into memory. He kept rocking, back and forth, back and forth. "I'm a baker's assistant. I… I crossed the bridge and I found him lying there. I thought he was a drunk at first, passed out… I thought he might freeze to death… so I… so I went to wake him up…"

He closed his eyes, unable to go on.

"It's okay. It's over now… right?"

"How can it be over? How can I ever forget?" He locked eyes with Marty.

"Forget what?"

"His neck was covered in blood and… and… half of it was gone. He was dead. He couldn't have been alive. Couldn't! Couldn't…"

Marty could see he was drifting away again, so he crouched down and locked eyes with him.

"What happened?"

The man opened his mouth to speak, then immediately snapped his jaws shut. He did it twice, then a third time before continuing his story. "I could hear the noise, but I couldn't tell where it came from. I was in such a panic… I thought they were footsteps… but they were so erratic," he snapped his jaws again and Marty began to feel uneasy.

"Snap… snap… this sick cracking noise of wet and teeth and…" He closed his eyes. "Oh my merciful Jesus. What demons have you unleashed upon us? What sins have we committed?"

Marty leaned back slightly. "What was it?"

The man stopped rocking, and looked at Marty with desperation.

"His eyes looked into mine, bloodshot and horrible and his jaw was opening and closing… biting at air, at nothing… but the way he looked at me, I knew. I knew! He was trying to bite me!"

Marty felt pale.

"That man was still alive with half his neck chewed off?"

He shook his head wildly, leaning forward. "He wasn't a man, wasn't human. He was dead, but still living. A demon. A demon! I knew I had to be brave, knew I had to do the Lord's work, so I found a stone, and I broke open his skull!"

The man jumped to his feet and Marty almost fell backwards. Marty scurried to the cell door.

"Hey!" He called for the officer. "Let me out!"

"I killed the demon!" The man was still yelling, stepping towards Marty. "You cannot punish me for doing the Lord's work!"

"C'MON!" Marty yelled as the officer scampered down the hall, the keys jingling in his hands. Marty could feel the man right behind him.

"Our Lord is punishing us for our sins! He unleashed the Devil on us!"

The door opened, Marty pushed the officer out of the way, slammed it shut behind him and backed up just as the prisoner's hand thrust out through the bars, reaching for Marty.

"I KILLED THE DEMON!"

OOO

Marty sat on the steps outside the building, staring up at the grey sky. It had started snowing, tiny little flakes, little puffs of white dust gently falling from the sky. He had never seen snow before, not in person. He couldn't help but hold out his hands and try to collect the little flakes, but the second they touched his skin and he started making out the delicate intricacies of each one – they melted and he was left holding cold water.

It wasn't long before the Doctor pulled up in a carriage, still looking fairly cheerful for a man who had just examined a mutilated corpse.

"I found a lead!" He beamed down at Marty, who looked up at him with weary blue eyes.

"Listen, Doc…"

"Look at this," the Doctor thrust the notebook in front of Marty's face, his finger tapping towards Ludolf Hochstrasser's name.

"Hochstrasser? Wait, that name…"

"The same as the farmers the Sylcrat killed."

"That's a pretty crazy coincidence."

"There's an address. We need to go there and figure out what exactly the connection is," he started walking away, heading for the carriage.

"Wait, Doc," Marty jumped up and grabbed the Doctor's arm. "I talked to the guy they have locked up for killing him."

"And?" The Doctor turned around.

"I have a bad feeling about all of this. I don't know if that guy was crazy, but what he was saying… I mean, it sounds like…" Marty didn't want to say the word. Even to him it sounded silly, stupid. This wasn't some ridiculous double-feature grind-house picture he was in.

The Doctor jumped into the carriage. "Come on, we'll talk on the way."

Marty reluctantly got in after him. "I think we're barking up the wrong tree."

"Nonsense," the carriage started moving. "What other radiation filled tree do you see? This is the perfect barking up tree."

Marty looked out the window, staring at the snow, at the children running through it with their arms out, their parents or nannies calling after them with laughter on their voices.

"That guy said he was still alive with half his neck bitten off… that his head was alive, that his jaw kept snapping at him."

The Doctor furrowed his brow slightly. "Was he telling the truth?"

"How should I know?" Marty looked at the Doctor. "Do I look like an interrogator to you?"

"We're not far, we'll find the clue we're looking for at Master Hochstrasser's home."

Their destination wasn't far. A few uneasy minutes later they were pulling up to the tall building. The houses were all attached to each other, one long row of homes. They got out of the carriage and the Doctor knocked on the door.

A small, wrinkly old woman opened the door, squinting up at them.

"Good morning, may I help you?" She asked in a creaky voice.

"Does a Ludolf Hochstrasser live here?"

"Why, yes, he rents one of my rooms. What's this about?"

"We're investigating a, ah… thing," the Doctor held out his psychic paper. "Official business. Can we look through his room?"

Her eyes went wide. "Oh, yes, of course m'lord," she opened the door wide and let them both in, bowing her head slightly as they passed.

The house was finely furnished, but Marty could see the signs of old age everywhere, frayed edges and threads sticking out of chesterfields, faded paintings of men long since dead hanging slightly askew on the wall. She must have been a socialite who had fallen on hard times.

"Just what is that thing telling people?" Marty whispered to the Doctor.

"We may or may not be the Holy Roman Emperor's cousins."

"He's home right now, but of course he'll let you look about," she started leading them towards the stairs.

"He's home right now?" The Doctor asked. "You're certain?"

"Oh yes, that little friend of his brought him home. They both work at the court together," she began ascending a set of stairs. "I don't much like musicians myself, quite a rowdy bunch, but Ludolf is a good boy, always pays his rent on time. Sometimes he even brings me a flower."

She laughed.

"And who is this friend of his?"

"Oh, I can't remember, Joannes or something. I swear he gives me a different name every time I see him, but Ludolf is always out with him and the other one… Jens. Yes, that's right. Jens. Haven't seen him today though."

She stopped outside a door and gently knocked on it. From inside the room there was silence at first, but when she knocked again there was shuffling about and someone began muttering to themselves.

"Ludolf, there are some officials here to see you," she called out softly.

The door unlocked and opened slightly, a young man around the same size as Marty – if not thinner – stared at them with wild, wide blue eyes.

"He's- He's sleeping," the man who was not Ludolf stuttered.

"Oh, Joannes was it?" The landlady asked.

"Uh," he shook his head. "Wolfgang, but I'm a little busy right now-"

"Oh right," the lady smiled up at Doctor. "Oh yes, I remember. They're always calling him Wolfy. Little Wolfy Mozart."

To Be Continued…

(Mozart's name is by far the most confusing thing about him. Obviously, we know his name, but the thing is, it's not actually Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. He was baptized Joannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart, but he went by Wolfgang Amade Mozart and apparently to be ironic sometimes signed his name as Wolfgangus Amadeus Mozartus and somehow through the ages he ended up as Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Or at least, this is the conclusion I came to after studying for about 30 minutes. So yeah, I wanted a character to be just as confused as I am over what his name really is. So, why did I pick Mozart? I knew I wanted them to meet a musician, because Marty is a musician. I decided to go for a classical well know musician, just because that made exposition easier. It was between Beethoven and Mozart, but I went with the later because I think his personality would get on better with Marty's and the Doctor's. Also, I love that fact that the movie Amadeus would be something quite recent to Marty – seeing as that movie came out in 1984.)