A/N: Thank you for the reads!
The third installment is on the way and research is being done as this settles.
Horatio, Mac and their respective CSIs (c) CBS, Daikonran and Secondet (c) my sister
15, Revulsion
Horatio's thoughts wondered momentarily, his mind's eye recreating how Tim Speedle would have been reanimated. This trembling mess was once the cocky crime scene investigator and this tore the lieutenant apart. What sort of trauma must have gone through to completely destroy that personality, to crush that soul?
Funny, now why would Speed be any different than a zombie guerrilla? He's probably been brought back the same way…
But one look and Horatio got his answer; he just knew that Speed's soul was there. As much as he wanted to help, Caine knew that it was CSI time, time to process the evidence and prosecute the guilty.
"Speed, I know that you assisted in Stuart Otis' escape during his execution." The soft voice had no resentment, but there was a building rage.
The undead simply nodded. He obediently extended his hands in order to examine for GSR. Horatio took out a swab and carefully rubbed it against every ridge. He then dripped a solution onto the cotton and confirmed the presence of gunshot residue.
"I'm not going to ask who sent you yet, so don't worry about that. What I do need to know is…" Speed's head jerked, paying attention to what Horatio said next. "How did you do it and why Stuart Otis."
"I wish I could help but my master never discussed those reasons with the help. All I was told was to learn the area layout and whom I was to abduct." Speedle responded, his face looking the floor. "All I know is that she's into marketing the girls as the 'safest extramarital sex'. She said it would fly off the market."
"Is there anything you can remember about your master's appearance?"
Speed scratched his head before answering,
"Not really, just one bright green eye. Her face was disfigured though, like acid burns or something."
Horatio couldn't help release a sarcastic chuckle; he recognized that incident even through the linen that covered his former coffin.
The sex-sells M.O., physical abuse to anything conceivably human, and the holy water burns upon her only marketing tool…Marla, you sweet bitch.
Marla Ruez herself didn't find a single investor for her business in the gala she had been invited. Men weren't too keen on her deformed face so no money had been pulled in. She cursed Horatio infinitely for it and hoped he died a slow and painful death. Yet, he was still the object of her lust and it didn't matter. She didn't mind her missing assassin and how he yet to report, if she knew that red-haired bastard, Speedle would be back in his crypt and another would take his place.
Just as she was about to enter her limousine and avoid sunlight, Marla spotted someone running towards her direction. Her eyebrows raised, she distinguished the little girl as Ruthy, one she had sent to eliminate Tammy Henderson.
"I take it she's dead?"
Ruthy's eyes were drenched with water, making her gale all the more piercing. Marla found the dead girl's attempts at crying laughable and never missed a chance to add insult to injury.
"Did you try to cry again?"
"Horatio said I could cry when I wanted to." Ruthy replied. The seductress saw through her lie and made an annoyed expression.
"Horatio knows shit, all right? Now, where did you get that name?"
Ruthy tried to stand her ground but Marla simply unnerved her. "He and some demon caught me. He told me that you should stop production."
Now it was Marla's turn to glare. "Did he now? And you let yourself be captured?"
Ruthy's reply was as innocent as she once was in life. "He looked like he was a nice person. He was…" A quick flash of stainless steel and the girl fell lifeless to the floor. Marla's hand dripped aged crimson as her expression changed from rage to subtle malice.
"I've seen serial killers with faces like angels and you don't see me trusting them, now do I?" the monster never did tolerate disappointment and Ruthy had failed miserably.
When Speedle comes back, he'll be in that morgue closet so long he'll forget what sunshine looked like.
Daikonran was more than eager to interview Tyler Perry. He had been raised both British and Japanese, common denominators being honor and sadism. He took out the cross he had used before, a syringe dripping with holy water and a couple of other things that made Taylor's approaching walk much more cautious; time for a real interview with a vampire.
Maybe this isn't a good time…Mac thought as he spun around, followed Horatio's advice and phoned a nearby hotel. Kino's soft steps almost went unperceived until Tyler picked up his particular smell.
"That's two strikes against you, love."
"I don't see it that way. And besides, all I did was direct you to Doña Socorro's place." The vampire replied matter-of-factly. "You're still worm food."
"Tell me what happened that night and if you're telling me another lie…" Daikonran liberated some of the aqueous solution to the floor. Tyler gulped air rather heavily; he had no choice but come clean.
"I was waitin' for Felicity to come back from her rounds. Zombies are obedient as hell but as responsive as a rock. She didn't even know that she was followed by some dude, heavyset, Caucasian, slightly balding. He was pissed; I could tell by the way the blood pumped. When I took Felicity's hand to tow her to storage, that guy tackled me to the stair set. I nearly fell into that frickin' hole and passed out. All I could hear was the girl screaming and the man screaming back. After a couple of minutes, I heard silence. I came to, and when I saw that the coast was clear, I ran like a bat out of hell."
"Cute comparison. Anything else you can remember about the perp?" Kino asked. He saw in those immortal eyes that Perry was finally telling the whole truth.
"He was wearing some grade-A shit; hand-tailored an all."
Ryan had one advantage over Kino; his obsessive-compulsive disorder made him see patterns and strains that no one else picked up, which came in handy when he set all the body parts on the fluorescent table. It was a macabre version of a jigsaw puzzle: one part here, another part there. By the initial prognosis, there were three adults and no known children. He tried thinking like a santera, which turned out to be harder than just bringing hell upon the unfaithful. No, he had to think…like a businessman.
Okay, I'm trying to reanimate children so I shouldn't be finding any limbs like that. Why? Because they're the final product. Older corpses means bigger sacrifices or so Kino tells me…but what use is a centuries-old kid in these times?
Much of the evidence he collected had peculiar wounds, postmortem, and then some. Alexx herself would have trouble picking out what was once a finger and a toe. Ryan closed his eyes and his mind clicked…
Don't think like the living…think like the dead.
Alexx had mastered the art of speaking to the dearly departed and her heart went out the team. Her hands cupped Felicity's face and her guard softened.
"You're in good hands now, no more selling yourself." She thought out loud. As she prepped her table for the next post, a bright paper caught her attention. Secondet had just left to care for his children and apparently forgot to properly discard the item.
I've told him so many times to keep a clean workplace!
She picked it up and unconsciously scanned it. Some medications were prescribed among other things but what caught the medical examiner's attention was the name and what followed next.
Patient Horatio Caine has shown positive response in the treatment. The spread of vampirism has been reduced to 5 percent of his overall body. He has also shown a positive outlook, which doubles recovery rate. What worries me is the adverse side effects that the procedure has provoked on said individual.
By week 5, most patients stop the internal hemorrhage and by week 7 they lead normal lives. Horatio Caine has experienced multiple counts of convulsions and the expulsion of blood via the mouth. This has led me to believe that Mr. Caine may have more than one ailment, and requires further study.
Alexx collapsed on a chair in shock. Horatio was one not to tell if he was sick but even he had his limits. She berated herself for being so oblivious; she thought those red spots were from a homicide he had handled before he came to her post. But most of all, she was mad at the lieutenant. Why would he keep something as serious as that from his team?
A/N: Reviews are welcomed!