Domainia: Chapter One

Detective Alexander Briggs is called to a most unusual crime scene...

 

“Frozen. That’s the way they found him. Frozen in fear, as if having been literally scared to death. He was like…like a grotesque mannequin, posed by a sick mind, maybe for a madman’s amusement. He lay on his back, still in his bed, and his mouth was open, frozen in mid-scream and contorted – no doubt by panic in the final moment of his pitiful life. His arms were bent at the elbow and his fingers were oddly curled up in a claw-like fashion. It was as though he had raised his arms up in an unsuccessful attempt to fend off whatever evil he had been dealing with.”

            Detective Alexander Briggs frowned and shook his head as he studied the police photos, then turned off his miniature recorder and placed it on his desk in front of him. “Poor b*****d,” he muttered to himself. He had never seen anything like it. The position of Mr. Watkins’s body was perplexing enough without the unusual fact that is was mummified; the skin was completely dehydrated, discolored to a dark brown and sunken, wrapped snugly around the bones. It wasn’t a normal example of decomposition by far; even if the body had been there for a substantial amount of time, it would never have looked like it did. Someone – or something – had instantly preserved Mr. Watkins…and taken his eyes right out of his head.

            Alex leaned back in his brown leather chair and winced as the springs creaked loudly in protest. He shut his eyes and put his hands behind his head. It was a method of relaxation that he’d used for the entire twenty three years of his career, and the only way he could concentrate. He thought back to the phone call earlier from Lieutenant Hayes.

            “Briggs,” barked the Lieutenant, “you gotta get over here to the County Farm road. You won’t believe this s**t.”

            “Who is it?” Alex asked him, knowing well that if it impressed the Lieutenant, it was something big.

            “Old Mr. Watkins,” he replied, and then hung up in his usual abrupt manner.

            Alex had been in the middle of dinner with his family when his cell phone chirped, and he had taken it into the garage. He always made sure his daughter Emily couldn’t hear the gruesome aspects of his work. She was only twelve years old, and he wanted to shield her from all of the world’s ugliness for as long as he could.

            “Valerie”, I have to go. I shouldn’t be too long, he said to his wife, and kissed her forehead, then he tousled Emily’s hair, eliciting a squeal of mock annoyance from her. “Do your homework, Sweetheart. Daddy will be home before you go to bed.”

            He collected his badge and Smith & Wesson M&P pistol from the drawer in the hall table, then turned back toward the dining room as he loaded the gun with the .40 caliber rounds he always kept with him. It was a rule that Valerie imposed when she was pregnant with Emily, and he respected it. “Thanks for dinner,” he smiled and winked.

She smiled in reply. It was a normal night for them, and she knew well that he wouldn’t be home before Emily went to bed, and most likely not before she, herself, went to bed.          

 

 

~~~

 

        Alex’s feet hit the floor with a thud and startled him awake. Still upstairs in his den, he grasped the arms of the chair to steady himself and looked at the old Regulator clock on the wall as it chimed to the count of twelve. He rubbed his eyes and stretched out a yawn before standing and going to the door. The house was dark and silent, so he went quietly to the shower, where he could wash away the remnants of the day. After more than twenty years, he still felt “dirty’ after being at a homicide scene, and old man Watkins’s house was decrepit and filthy enough without dead bodies lying around.

            Alex tilted his head forward under the shower spray and let the hot water run down over it. Every time he closed his eyes he could see old man Watkins’s mummified face, mouth fixed open in a permanent scream. Nothing about it made sense to him. The old man had no family and kept to himself in a big run-down farmhouse, only journeying into town on occasion for supplies. His farm, long ago defunct, was on the outskirts of Smithfield, a town with a population of about thirty thousand and increasing fast with new commerce in the form of strip malls off the highway, new houses being built and new families moving in to escape the hustle and bustle of the nearby city of Boston. Somehow Mr. Watkins managed to keep himself and his property looking as though they had teleported there from the past, or as though the future had come crashing down around them.

            Alex propped his hands against the shower wall and bent his arms to inch forward, allowing the hot spray to reach his back. In his entire career – his entire life – he had never seen anything as strange as what he saw that day. He hoped he never would again. He was troubled that he had no leads as far as a perpetrator and no idea where to begin with investigating a case of that type. He was troubled that he couldn’t even begin to wonder what in God’s creation could instantly mummify a human body; but most of all, he was troubled by the fact that he himself had seen Henry Watkins walking and breathing….just the day before.

Author's Note

Should I continue this?

The title for this will make more sense in subsequent chapters. Credit for the title goes lovingly to my sister, who is constantly "wixing up her mords"....she blurted out "Domainia" instead of "Domain" when we were working on my website, and it planted a seed for the story.

Reviews

[None]

I don't know what to make of this...maybe I should go ask my mummy? Sorry! I don't get that many opportunities for mummy jokes.
Honestly, I really enjoy the way your characters are well visualized with your vivid descriptions. I really am curious and can't wait to see what happens next. Excellent mystification!

[George Love]

Interesting and very attention getting. Strange death at the beginning of a suspense novel is always a safe bet, and throwing the curve into this one gives you a unique take on the tale.

[Ice Queen of the Vampir..]

Ooh, interesting first chapter. You've aroused my curiousity and now I want more. Awesome work!!!

Heather

[Keith]

microwaved... or defense department death ray of scorching heat...yup. leaning towards microwave or else the obvious alien invasion plot....hmmm Brazilian army ants brought in the luggage of the Mardi gras dancer?
This is fun...do dedo.... I'm going over here to amuse myself...thanks