《The blue winter》 Ch 1 - The day death denied the world. With light steps that resound through the marbled corridor, I hold my service belt as I enter the door of a luxuriousapartment while the morning light blinds me. The first thing I notice after trespassing the lime green door is the smell that reaches my nostrils faster than any scenery can. The smell, putrid in nature, forces me to grab a hold of my knees while I bend in what was supposed to be vomit but unfortunately, what comes out is bitter bile as I hadn¡¯t had breakfast yet. As I try to lessen the cramps in my stomach by breathing through my mouth, I realize that this new job of mine might not have been the best career choice. Slowly making myself upright a sudden rustle to my left catches my attention and I swiftly spin while reaching with my left hand for my service gun while awkwardly unstrapping it. ¡°Calm down kid, we¡¯re all friends here. Now do yourself a favor and don¡¯t puke on the carpet or the CSU division will chew my ass out cause¡¯ I allowed a rookie to trample evidence in my crime scene.¡± With a high blood pressure and trembling hands, I take my handaway from my Glock 9mm and inspect the man in front of me. Tall and bulky, he stands at 6¡¯2 and has a receding line of gray hair and a scruffy short beard. The complete set of hard features coupled with the hard-core veteran aura make me uncomfortable as I think of such a menacing man doing street patrol back when New York was a cold black hole of drug and crime that consumed everything on its path. Between sweat and embarrassment, I try to stand straighter while I say. ¡°I-I am sorry sir, I thought I was going to be the first responder to the crime scene. I didn¡¯t know there was already a detective on site.¡± ¡°How long have you been on the force, rook?¡± ¡°L-Less than a week, sir.¡± ¡°Shit, didn¡¯t anyone teach you at the academy about contaminating the crime scene?¡± With a cramped face of displeasure, I watch as he places his hands in his hips moving his ugly brown jacket out of the way forcing me to notice the golden badge strapped to his belt confirming my suspicions. ¡°Go ahead and secure the perimeter or something, I don¡¯t need a rookie who hasn¡¯t even seen a dead body bothering me here.¡± Turning around to leave I block the sun with my hand while mentally admonishing myself for the embarrassing scene. Having adjusted to the golden shine of the sun, I take notice of the dead body laying on the ground. What I see in front of me - to my horror - as I inspect the mangled limbs and deep gruesome cuts smeared in the victim¡¯s torso is the full extent of the human predisposition for violence and I feel a cold sensation slowly forming towards my core. My eyes start to burn hot, my body shivers uncontrollably, and my stomach roars in protest all the while I remain unable to blink away from the image that is being slowly polarized in my brain. Of all the gore the first corpse I have ever seen has to offer, I notice the pool of blood mixed with feces that adhered to the victim¡¯s naked self. I unconsciously take a step backward while slowly bendi- ¡°Kid!¡° As I watch mesmerized the bloody mess a heavy hand lays itself on my shoulder thus breaking the morbidly enchanting scene. Turning my head to the side, I am hit by the smell of cheap whiskey and coffee that comes out of the detective''s mouth while his eyes look down at my nameplate. ¡°Reynold¡¯s, listen to me, this particularly ugly homicide scene for a first timer is not ideal at all, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re just the unluckiest rookie that I have ever metin my almost thirty years of active service. I have never seen such a horrific murder, but I can tell you that after this one, the next one will be less stressful for you as the shock won''t be so bad.¡± Nodding my head absentmindedly the detective looks at me with a semblance of pity on his face and leads me to the corridor where he keeps encouraging me to do my best.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Once I am seated on the cold ground next to the green door and the detective is long gone, I pass my left hand through my golden hair as I silently weep at my shattering dreams of becoming a hard-ass cop. ¡°Unlucky was it, Ah?¡± I said whispering to myself. Shaking my head in a futile attempt to erase the hellish image that my brain has masterfully painted inside my own art gallery of tragedy, I listen as various hurried steps reach my ears through the white and pristine marble corridor. Looking up at the approaching group of three no-nonsense and businesslike detectives carrying briefcases I notice the short and good-looking woman positioned on the middle that is staring at me with burning annoyance. While I prepare for a severe ¡®spanking¡¯ from her due to me inactively sitting in the corridor instead of yellow-tapping the apartment¡¯s door, she does something that surprises me and directly enters the luxurious apartment while completely ignoring me. Grabbing a hold of my navy blue hat I place my back against the wall and lift the heavy weight of my body and equipment. Numbness is slowly replaced by burning determination as I recall the reproaching eyes of the beautiful Asian detective and I head towards the crime scene. ¡°Jones! You were supposed to seal this site immediately and then wait for us, or have you forgotten that the CSU has jurisdiction in this case? Not to mention, you let some random beat cop trample all over the evidence, are you drunk?!¡± Tip-Toeing out of shame, I hear the angry voice of a woman ¨C That I suppose is from the Asian detective - arguing against a more deep and raspy voice that I recognize as the older homicide¡¯s detective. ¡°You ungrateful little bi-¡± ¡°Yeah keep talking Jones, maybe I can get the captain to dishonorably discharge you so you can go drink that pharmacy alcohol you call whiskey and die somewhere, forgotten!¡± After the harsh remark I debate if going anywhere near the site is as wise as I once thought, but seeing how the female officer is trampling all over a senior member I keep advancing, thought slowly while straining my hearing to catch the louder parts of the conversation. ¡°What did you want me to do Alicia, he barged inside the place and the fucking piece of dead ham over there had the unlucky timing of dying on the entry hall where anyone can enter. The kid¡¯s a rookie and doesn''t know shit about our own procedures, or if he knew, he was too scared to even care. Sides¡¯ I already had seen that there were no prints on the blood and no one directly touched the knife.¡± Ruminating on the information about the knife, I try to remember if the corpse still had the knife attached when I arrived or had detective Jones already taken it from the body and indoing so, breaking a dozen rules stated by the NYPD. Surprised by the lack of details on the burning horror I had witnessed minutes ago I hear the voice of Alicia with a dark tinge to it. ¡°Y-You what!? You disregarded procedures to collect evidence and nonchalantly say it to my face!?¡± Almost at the door frame, I hear the heavy breathing of an angry person ready to explode when suddenly the conversation is cut short by a loud yelp and a different man¡¯s voice saying. ¡°C-Chief, that dude moved!¡± Unable to resist my curiosity ¨C one of the traits that led me to this sort of job ¨C I peek inside the entry hall only to see the four individuals pointing their guns towards the mutilated body. Resisting another crashing wave of repulsiveness and vomit as I look at the bloodied scene, I place my hand on the standard issued gun that was given to me less than a week ago. ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± With a low and inaudible whisper, I throw my thoughts to the air while my eyes scan for any abnormal behavior that shouldn''t come from a mutilated dead body. ¡°Are you sure you saw it moving Gerrera? You¡¯re not just messing with us like when you placed that firecracker on that dealer''s corner so we could detain him for illegal possession of a gun and drugs, right?¡± ¡°S-Shit Chief, you kno¡¯ my family don¡¯t play with los muertos, that dude was movin¡¯ like a puppet.¡± A small yet athletic Hispanic CSU male said towards Alicia with a terrified face. ¡°Are they trying to scare DC Jones?¡± Looking towards the man, I get the feeling that the same question is floating around hismind as he inspects Gerrera for any li- Suddenly and without a warning, a fast and blurry hand is headed towards the closest person near the body who was, unfortunately, the quiet CSU agent who hadn''t talked the entire time. With a loud bang that made me even more sick to my stomach, I see the young detective''s head blown to bits by a simple flick of the corpse''s hand. Everyone, including me, stares at the Jackson Pollock painting on the wall while we''re unable to process the events that just took place. Acting on reflex more than anything else I un-holster my gun in a robotically trained manner and aim for the ¡®dead¡¯ person''s chest. As I squeeze the trigger and shoot my gun I see faint movements coming from the now undead(?)''s body but it is not untilmy third round is lodged inside the corpse that I hear the other officers shooting their own guns and in unison, the whole corridor inside the building turns into a battleground of smoke and unbearable sound. Shaking after shooting a whole magazine into the inanimate corpse I realize that halfway through my clip, the entry hall of the apartment had become a smoking barrier of gunpowder that didn''t allow me to see the other officers. Unclipping the now old magazine and reloading a fresh one with trembling hands, Islowly come inside the hall with weary steps and see the three other detectives looking at the mangled pieces of the now hole filled body in stupefied perplexity. As I inhale to call out for any injured people, the smoke wells up on my lungs and I cough loudly enough for the trance of the situation to dispel. ¡°WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!¡± Between heavy breathing, I hear Alicia say in a thick Brooklyn accent. Just as I was going to speak, the Hispanic detective named Gerrera says in a mix of fear and astonishment. ¡°Madre de Dios, que puta mierda.¡± ¡°Jesus Christ...¡± DC Jones, noticing me standing at the half-way point between the exit and their group, looks towards me and with a tired face says. ¡°Get everyone inside their house right now, don¡¯t let anyone near this shit hole.¡± With a nod, I acknowledge the command and hurry towards the corridor, but just as I am trespassing the door frame I hear Jones say. ¡°Also good job rook, your quick action might just have saved us from...¡± With a dramatic pause worthy of a Broadway actor he continues. ¡°this not-so-dead ham.¡± Ch 2 – Life is nothing but a flicker. After the direct order from DC Jones, I went from home to home to advise people to stay in inside while trying to forget the insanity that had transpired back at the entry hall. As I shuffled my heavy feet around the corridor, the only thing that came to mind to describe the ludicrous occurrence was the word ¡®Zombie¡¯. I had, of course, read about zombies on my free time and I had seen them on the TV, but to actually see a corpse come back to life in front of me, it somehow didn¡¯t register at all on my head while at the same time, it created a sense of unreal that gave me a deep vertigo-like feeling. Between morbid thoughts about both the dead corpses, I came back to the busy crime scene and did true police work for the first time by starting to yellow tape the entrance while standing guard for anyone who wanted to peek inside. As I look insede the apartment''s corridor I see the sobbing Alice and the stone-faced Jones inspect the now dead detective while I carefully unwrapp the yellow tape. It didn¡¯t sit well with me that if it was truly the rise of the dead, then being so close to one of ¡®those¡¯ things was the smartest move to make, but because I was nothing but a rookie that would be labeled as insane for even suggesting the word zombie, I kept my opinion to myself. *Sigh* What had been a normal morning that started with me patrolling the calm 5th avenue, was rapidly turning into a horror novel that defied the logic of all known science. I still trembled at the image of the fast moving hand hitting the temple of the third detective, and my knees hurt due to the uncontrollable tremble. But deep down, I know that something has changed. Something fundamentally established was molding itself to fit a new pattern that would lead the human spices into an uncontrollable spiral of chaos. ¡°Rook, you don¡¯t look well so maybe you should leave and go home? I¡¯m sure this is just too much for someone who hasn¡¯t been on the force even for a week to take in.¡± Focusing on the present again, I notice that the hardened face of DC Jones looks tired and still in shock. With a negative shake of my head, I struggle to speak any words that could lessen the burden on his shoulder and simply say. ¡°Sir, I-I will stay here until the paramedics arrive, it wouldn''t be fair to both of you to stay here while I go along my merry way, as if this...¡± I say while pointing towards the red wall. ¡°Never happened in the first place.¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. With a small semblance of a smile, Jones pats me on my right shoulder while his voice lowers to a low rumble. ¡°We, and when I say we, I mean Detective Kim and I think that this might go deeper than just some¡¯ mere natural virus.¡± As he speaks, I notice the darkening of Jones tone until its nothing more than an abrasive, anger filled whisper. ¡°This been¡¯ said before by the counter-terrorism division, but there was some suspicion that ¡®Hide¡¯.¡± With a frown due to my cramped face, Jones asks me. ¡°You know about Hide, right?¡± ¡°Yes sir, I do know about them.¡± Clutching my hands at the mention of Hide I continue to speak with a more dark undertone. ¡°After 2001 and the terrorist attack that shook the nation, various foreign and domestic terrorist groups were formed to imitate Al-Jada, but after several years Al-Jada became almost extinct and lead to the next generation of vicious terrorists. They became known as ¡®Hide¡¯ and in 2013 they started to recruit people to commit atrocities mostly in the middle east. By 2017 they had successfully destroyed the building that was called ¡®freedom¡¯ erected in the memory of the destruction of the iconic Eagle building done by Al-Jada.¡± Grinding my teeth I try to continue the story that hits a sore spot deep down. ¡°A lot of speculation about the unknown leader was made, until in 2020, where they found that the unknown identity of the mysterious person was actually an American called Steve O''Neil who was the ex-director of the former CIA. It is believed that he funds the group and has been in hiding ever since.¡± Nodding with a solemn face, Jones adds to my monologue. ¡°And the reason why I was here even before someone like you, who was patrolling the streets so close, is that I have reasons to believe that this guy...¡± With a long and accusing finger, he points towards the undead person. ¡°Is one of the senior members of Hide that came here unnoticed by us to buy what I suspect is a new type of pathological agent.¡± Feelings of anger surface to my skin as I contain myself just enough that I don¡¯t profane the hole-filled remains of the dead man. Taking a deep breath, I steady my heart rate as I scan the hard looking veteran and say. ¡°So this guy here was a Hide member? Where is this, hum...pathological agent?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure how to reply to both of your question¡¯s but what I know, kid, is that this guy here wasn¡¯t entirely truthful while speaking with the TSA and raised some major red flags. He might just be a random person or he might just be a high-level member of Hide, but at this point, I don¡¯t have any concrete evidence.¡± Scratching his platinum hair, I watch as Jones changes his weight from one foot to another. ¡°Anyways, Gerrera went downstairs to call backup and they will probably call the FBI and the CDC, so you should really go home kid.¡± A part of me is torn between staying here, so I can gain privilege knowledge on Hide and the other part of me screams that the place I currently am is dangerous due to a possible virus running around in the stale and putrid air. Dropping my shoulders to look at the pristine white ceiling I sigh as the waves of different emotion run through my body and I isolate my thoughts while hearing Jones leave me to myself. After a couple of minutes of a mental duel between two very angry parts of myself, I gaze at both detectives who went about their business and I slowly turn around while I am strangely hit with an old and forgotten emotion. Longing for my dead father.