Viewing Thread:
"I need you your help with this story."

I started writing a story ages ago, and I've just found it on my computer again. Only I haven't got the time to finish it off myself, so I figured I could turn it into another FoG story.

I'll post all that I've got over the next 3 of posts, as it's too long to go into one.

When it's up, feel free to add to it and continue the story on. But please don't go off on a tangent, try and stick to the rough storyline.

Cheers.

"Detective Sheepy?"

"Yes?"

"There's someone here to see you. Says his name is Ant. A reporter."

"Reporter? Get rid of him, we don't need reporters snooping around at a time like this." Replied Meka.

"Ant? Was that his name?" Sheepy was deep in thought. "Let him in." Meka looked incredulous, "It's alright Meka, I've worked with him before. Trust me." Ant was let in and introduced himself to Meka.

"Right, what do you want?" Said Meka.

"-" Ant began. But the phone ringing interrupted him. Meka and Sheepy both looked at it. After a while Sheepy reached out to answer it.

"Hello? Inspector Sheepy here."

"Ah, Sheepy, I'm glad. I should have known you'd have had people following me. Didn't take long to get rid of them though."

"Grix?!?"

"The same."

"But.. how, wha-?"

"Look, I'm here to help you. I know who's doing the killings."

"You what!?" Sheepy switched the speaker on so Meka and Ant could here as well.

"You heard me, I know who's doing the killings."

"So who is it then?"

"Tsk tsk Sheepy. You should know me better than that. I'm not going to give you his name, just like that. Not after our history, what you did to me." Meka looked at Sheepy, as if to ask 'What history?' But Sheepy was looking at the phone, eyes down.

"That was a long time ago Grix." His voice was hardly more than a whisper. "There's more at stake now."

"Like what? Your precious reputation?" Grix seemed to spit the words out, "Is that all that matters to you now?"

"Then what about the murdered, and their families? Surely you must care about them? If you don't want to help me, then at least help them. Tell me who it is. Please?"

"What do I care about them? I'm capable of killing, as you well know. Why should I care about a couple of tramps?"

"Tramps? How do you know they were tramps?"

"You mean you didn't?"

"Well, I, we, uh-"

"Obviously not. Well, I've already helped you."

"How does that help?"

"I told you who he likes to kill. Homeless people. They're never reprted missing. No one cares about them." With that, Grix hung up. Sheepy just stared at the floor. Looking like all the fight in him had gone.

"Sheepy?" Sheepy looked up. "You alright?" Sheepy could just manage a weak nod. "Let's get a drink, we'll talk about this over a pint.

The two detectives, followed by Ant, left the office, and walked to the pub across the road. Meka was concerned. How did Sheepy know that Grix was capable of killing? He guessed that it must be tied up in the history between the two of them. But what history? Sheepy had never mentioned anything. But then, why would he? All this filled his mind, his thoughts, as he numbly followed the other two across to the pub. But if it could affect the case, surely it would be better to tell him? Sheepy wanted to catch the killer, so if it would make the catching easier, why didn't he share the information? Why keep it...

"Meka?.. What do you think?" Ant was looking at him expectantly.

"Eh?" Ant sighed at the response.

"My idea. What do you think?"

"Sorry, I was miles away."

"I said, that what if the killer was walking along to the homeless people, to find another victim, when Sniper attacked him?" Meka gave an approving grunt. "So why don't you send someone down to the homeless people, undercover, and wait for him to come again?"

"Hang on. We don't even know if we can trust what Grix says. Ho-" Meka was interrupted by Sheepy.

"We can trust Grix." He said, in a quiet voice.

"How do you know?"

"That doesn't matter, all that matters is we can trust him. He's right about the homeless people. I can't believe we didn't spot it before."

"How the hell were we supposed to spot it? He's killed all sorts of people. Men, woman, balcks, whites, gays, straights, druggies and non-druggies. There was absolutely no pattern at all!" Meka paused, taking a breath, his face had gone red with anger. Sheepy and Ant sat in stunned silence at Mekas sudden outburst. Why!? Why had Grix said that stuff on the phone? What had he meant about "What do I care about them? I'm capable of killing." Where did it all fit in?! Meka thought his mind was going to burst, there were so many thoughts flying, yet he couldn't put words to any of them. So many questions, no answers. That was the worst part, not knowing, being afraid to ask. Meka took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"Me and Grix were partners." Meka looked up. Sheepy had said the words so quietly, he hardly heard them.

"Grix was a copper?"

Sheep cleared his throat. "Not, er exactly. We, uh," his face reddened. "We, we were having a relationship." Meka looked at the floor, not wanting to meet Sheepys gaze. "This was about 30 years ago. I was only just out of school. He was an older man and, well," Sheepy paused and took a sip of his drink.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He wanted it to end, he could stand it no more. Please, he thought, let that be the last of it, I don't know if I can take anymore. His body thought otherwise and he retched again, the clear liquid running with the rest of the water, down the plug hole. Sheepy's head spun. He was in the shower, just. Sitting back on his heels, arms resting on his knees feeling the luke warm water fall on his head, trying to wash away his memories. He couldn't believe how much he had drunk the previous night.

He'd told them all of it. His relationship with Grix, Grix killing his brother, the memories return before he could push them away, a tear rolled down his cheek.

When he'd finished the telling, he couldn't talk any more, so he drank. He couldn't remeber how much, it was all a blur. He wondered how he got home, guessing it must have been Meka. Meka! Where was he! What did he think of the revelations? That Sheepys life had all been a lie. A lie he hadn't even told his wife. Sheepy felt sick again, but not because of the hangover.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Meka looked up as Sheepy walked in.

"There's an envelope on your desk". Sheepy didn't meet his gaze, stayed looking at the ground.

Sheepy approached the desk nervously. He suspected he knew who the note was from. But in the same way as a nervous boy aprroaches a girl, he both wanted to run over, tear the envelope open and read it, he also wanted to run out of the door, and leave it on the desk. He finished the last few paces too quickly, he hadn't had time to prepare himself. With Meka watching on, and Ant still entering the office, careful not to disrupt the decorator standing by the door. Sheepy took his coat off, and sat down at the desk, sweaty fingers reaching for the envelope.

He looked down at the white envelope, saw the childlike handwriting on the front and his heart sank. He now knew it was from Grix. Meka was over the other side of the room, talking quietly with Ant.

"How is he this morning?"

"Not sure, he only got here just before you. Seems in a strange mood though."

"I'm not surprised after last night."

"True. I'll have to have a talk with him later."

"Everthing seemed caught in a timeless trap," Began Sheepy, reading out the not he held in his hand, "A morass of rot, as if the city had once been vibrant with life and people striving to fulfil dreams, had once a place of hope and amibition, but somewhere the dreams had disintegrated into a gray pall of stagnation and decay. No one seemed to much care. Everyone seemed in a daze, biding their time, waiting for their lot to improve without even having a concept of the shape of that better life or how it might come to be. They existed on disembodied faith, confident only that the afterlife would be perfect." Read Sheepy.

"Little did they know, he would arrive. Arrive to take them away from the despair, the hopelessness of their lives. He was here to liberate them. To release them from the bonds of this world, so they could be free in the next." Sheepy continued reading, eyes going back and forth across the page. "Why should they suffer, when he can help them? Society does nothing for them. Leaves them to rot. It is within his power to help them, to set them free, why is it considered wrong for him to do this? Man is equal in the eyes of the creator. We are all the same, we are all worthless in this world. The only reason man treads this earth is to help his fellow man.

"Yes some percieve they are better than others. Some feel they have the right to rise above others. They do not. Why do they feel others suffering and need can come before their own personal enrichment? We should not be concerned with the life of any one man. We are all here to do the creator's bidding.

"He does this. He helps, helps end the pain, end the despair forced upon them by his fellow man. Can you imagine how they feel? Being left to rot like a pile of leaves. They group together to help each other survive, give each other one more day of comfort in the endless stream of despair that is their pitiful existence.

"The creator will reward them. They are doing what they can, little though it may seem to you, to help each other, until the end comes. They know that their true existence only begins in the next world. They tolerate this world because they know what is coming to them, and to you.

"He helps them. He knows that he, too, will be rewarded after death, for helping his fellow man. Unlike you."




"What the hell does that mean!? Why has Grix sent us that? He's playing with us! Playing us for fools! Can't you see it?" There was silence after Meka's out burst. The sound of the phone ringing made everyone jump. Sheepy reached out a rather unsteady hand to press the speakerphone button.

"Afternoon", said a rather cheerful voice., "I guess you've got, read, and digested my note by now." It was Grix.

"How did you know that?"

"I can see you."

"What?!" Meka jumped up, and looked around.

"Heh heh heh," Wheezed Grix's laugh, "Don't be silly, boy, I wouldn't stand where you could see me, oh no!" Meka mouthed the words 'trace the number' to Sheepy, who nodded, and began the tracing. "Think to trace me, eh? My, you are quick." Sheepy looked around wildly, trying to work out where Grix could be looking at them from, seeing nothing. His eyes caught the security camera in the corner, by the ceiling.

The man was walking along, thinking about the last time he killed. His crotch stirred. Would he be able to make it as good again? The last one had had a great climax, so to speak. He smiled to himself at his little joke. Oh yes, the last one had been very pleasurable. The girl had been able to entertain him, even after she was dead. What a talented girl, although she hadn't done much herself, he had to put all the effort in, typical woman, another smile passed his lips.

He was at the slum end of the city. Where the homeless people were. They were the best to dispatch, as no one noticed them missing for several days, if ever. He was on his way there now, to find someone else. Obviously he couldn't do the killing tonight, he had to gain their trust. Be nice to them, get them to go with him to somewhere private. Normally it took a couple of days. He'd pretend to be a Private Investigator, hired by their family to look for them.

He kicked some rubbish out of the way as he approached the area. He could see the fires of the burning bins as he got closer. Smelt the stink of the burning rubbish. The smoke filled his nostrils, making them flair with the uninvited fumes finding their way up. It was just approaching dusk, that in between time. In between the natural light finding its way down between the criss-cross of road bridges above him, down into the dank depths below, and the man made light, the fires and occasional still working streetlamp. He looked out to one side, and saw the fields, the hedges, all tainted with the glowing orange colour as daylight muted into the darkness of the evening, a gentle breeze whispering across the dry grass of a nearby field.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. He felt a knife against his back, near his kidneys.

"Turn around slowly." He did so. "You're wallet, or you're life. Move slowly." The man did the oppsite, he moved quickly, reaching up and putting his thumbs in the corner of the attackers eyes, nearest his nose, digging his nails in, and ripping out to each side. The attacker screamed as he felt his eyeballs drop down onto his cheeks. The man grabbed the knife and turned to see the other attacker running away. He marvelled at how a running mans head stays remarkably still, even when the body is moving vigorously. He took aim, and threw the knife, it tumbled over and over in the air. It's metallic blade dully reflecting the weak light from the fires further along. There was a thud as the knife found its mark and the second attacker fell to the ground.

The man walked over to admire his handiwork. He rolled the body over to see the point of the knife just protruding from the centre of his forehead. Shame, thought the man, that death was quicker than the one I'd given you, had I a choice. He turned to see the first attacker, still lying on the floor, whimpering. He turned and walked off. Not needing to feel the thrill of death for just a little while longer, he was satiated. For now.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sheepy and Meka looked around, the two bodies were covered up. They were under a bridge in the slum area of town.

"Do you think it's the same person?" Asked Meka. Sheepy stayed silent, looking around.

"The second one, the one with no eyeballs, died slowly, bleeding to death. The first died instantly, of what you could call a headache." Sheepy smiled sadly to himself. He'd been in the job far too long if he could make crap jokes about something like this. "It's not how he normally does things, as you well know."

"What if he was working on the one with no eyes," Meka looked at his notepad, "Sniper, but was interrupted before he could finish?"

"That was Sniper?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Sniper's a two-bit robber. He was probably trying to rob the killer. Whats the other called?" Meka looked at his notepad a second time.

"Don't know, we're still waiting to find out."

"Probably Sniper's colleague. Crapped himself when the killer attacked and ran off?"

"It's a possibility. But if this wasn't planned, what was our killer doing down here in the first place?"

"Search me. We don't know anything now." Sheepy sighed, he rubbed his eyes. Just when he had thought it was over, the previous day, it was really only just beginning.

"Well, we do know one thing, it isn't Grix. He's been locked up while three killings have taken place."

"No! We don't know anything. That man has connections like you wouldn't believe. It wouldn't surprise me if he had someone do the killings to make him look innocent. He stays in custody."

"We can't keep him. We have no evidence. We have to let him go in," Meka lengthened the final word as he looked at his watch, "3 hours time."

"Well, have someone follow him. No, make it two, I don't want him slipping away."

"Ok. I'll put turbonutter and YH onto it." Meka smiled, "I'd like to be a fly on the wall in that car, they hate each other."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sheepy opened the door of his flat, flicked the light switch and hung up his coat. What a day! He felt exhausted. He called out to his wife, before remembering she wasn't there. She, and his two kids, were supposed to have moved back that very day, but with the new killing, Sheepy wasn't prepared to take the risk. His heart had broken as he told her the news. Putting his keys on the sideboard, as he always did, he sighed, and walked through to the kitchen.

Just as he got to the doorway, he had a sudden thought. Turning back round to the hallway, he romoved his shoes, and placed them together by the sideboard. He returned to the kitchen, glad he hadn't got the floor dirty. He switched the kettle on, and went through to the lounge stopping off at the chest of drawers to pull out a photo album. He sat down and began leafing through.

Time slowed down for Sheepy, the pictures brought back images in his mind, memories he wasn't sure he wanted to have again. Visions floated across his minds eye, he was taken back 30 years, to a time before he was a policeman, to a time when he was on the other side of the law....

As he drifted through the mists of his mind, the kettle boiled, and the water cooled again.

He remebered the scream. He would until the day he died. It was the scream of death, but not just any death. It was the death he gave her, it had been a slow death, he used his knife to do it. He could have just shot her, or run her over, but it wouldn't have been the same.

He liked to slice. It was delicate work which took him a while, but he didn't care how long it took. He enjoyed it, not just the sound of the screams, but the feel as the knife cut it's way through her skin, the tearing sound as he could stand it no longer, and ripped the rest off with his bare hands. Standing there, with the blood dribbling down his hand, over his naked body, to join the rest, in a large puddle on the floor.

That had been several weeks ago now. He needed to do it again. It was amusing him that he needed to do it more and more regularly. But he could feel the urge to kill again, needed to feel the blood dripping, hear the screams echoing, feel the power again.

It would be soon.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Several weeks earlier:

Inspector Sheepy walked into the office. He was feeling good, the first time for a long while. Grix was in custody, it had taken months to track him, to catch him, but he'd managed it. Oh yes, he'd done it. It'd nearly cost him everything though. He had to leave his wife for a period of time, it wasn't safe for her to live with him. Other things had affected his relationship with family and friends. Things from his past...

As he walked to his desk, it all came back. All the memories, images flashed across his mind. All from the case, sounds and smells all followed suit, one by one, leading him through the investigation. From the very beggining, through until just two days ago when the case had finished, he had a memory of every day. Be it an image, a smell or a sound, it was all logged in his mind, a library of items to remind him.

As the images finsihed, he was left feeling calm, tranquil. It was over. They had the evidnce, they had Grix in custody, it was finished.

"Morning." He said cheerfully. His smile fell from his face when he looked around the room, at the faces of his colleagues.

"There's been another one." Said Detective Meka.

The bottom fell out of his world. It all came crashing down around him as he heard those few simple words. All the hopes, all the plans he had for the future, retirement among others, were replaced by a vast expanse of emptinees. Despair entered the room like a thrid person, ready to carry Sheepy away. This was the heard of terror, being controlled by something you couldn't see. The despair, implacable, immune, indifferent waited in the corner, watching.

Sheepy sat down, his legs unable to hold him any longer.

"No, there can't be." Sheepy said, his face in his hands. "But we've caught him, Grix is in custody. I thought it was over."

"Well, it's obviously not him." Replied Meka.

"But we caught him!? Whats going on?" Sheepy was almost pleading. The figure of despair in the corner loomed larger, filling more of the room. Meka understood how Sheepy felt, although not as keenly as he hadn't worked as hard as Sheepy, had lost less to the case.

Meka hated to see Sheepy like this, they were more than work colleagues, they had become friends. In a effort to move the conversation along, he got up and put on his coat.

"Come on, let's go to the scene." Meka walked towards the door. Sheepy, head hanging low, followed him out, despair still laughing in th corner. They drove to the old warehouse where the murder had taken place. There was police tape around the whole area. The two stopped to ask one of the many policemen where the body had been found.

"I'll show you Sir."

"You were first on the scene?"

"Yes Sir. I'm Constable Er-no Sir." er-no looked like he was holding back tears. Meka looked at Sheepy, he wasn't surprised. If it was anything like the other murders, it would be a stomach churning experience.

"Ok, show us the way, tell us what you found."

They walked past the tape, past the waiting reporters, er-no slightly unsterady on his feet, through into the badly lit, dank warehouse. Boxes and litter lay strewn about on the floor. The windows were grimy, moss and cobwebs blocking out most of the light. Some had been broken, by kids Sheepy assumed, letting a weak, yellow light fill the cool interior. Most of the internal walls had been torn down, leaving pillars looking like the bones of some long dead animal holding the roof up.

Before they even got there, Sheepy could smell the stench of death.

"Oh my God..." Meka saw the huge dark stains on the floor, the marks of the dried blood. The body was no where to be seen.

"What happened Constable?" Sheepy asked Er-no. Er-no swallowed, his face paled.

"When I got here, I walked through, the way we came." Er-no pointed, unsteadyily, back towards the group of reporters, "I saw it first." Meka looked to Sheepy, Sheepy motioned that he keep quiet. "Her skin had been sliced off, it, I mean the, uh, body, lay on the floor, over there," He pointed, but not looking. "Bits hand been cut off. Her," He faltered, "Her breasts...." Er-no turned round and threw up on the floor, the memories of what he had seen being too much for him.

Meka looked at Sheepy.

"The same as the other four." Sheepy nodded in agreement.

"It's alright Constable, you don't need to carry on." Er-no nodded, gave a thankful look, vomited again and wiped his hand across his mouth.

"Who could do such a thing?" He asked. Sheepy looked at Meka.

"We don't know, but we hope to have them. Soon." They two detectives walked away.

"Well, it blatantly wasn't Grix, as he's been in custody for the last 2 days. We'll have to go and talk to any witnesses, although I'm not holding my breath, it's pretty remote." Meka looked around at the disused warehouse, saw the half broken windows, the cobwebs in the rafters, the junk and litter on the floor. What a place to die, he thought to himself, what a way to die. He shook his head as he followed Sheepy.

I started writing a story ages ago, and I've just found it on my computer again. Only I haven't got the time to finish it off myself, so I figured I could turn it into another FoG story.

I'll post all that I've got over the next 3 of posts, as it's too long to go into one.

When it's up, feel free to add to it and continue the story on. But please don't go off on a tangent, try and stick to the rough storyline.

Cheers.