Dst – Chronicles of Malignant Mercies Pt12 (1/2)

Intro: A day early, here’s Dark April Fools. If you have no idea what this wacky, scary tale is about, your questions are answered here, in the Chronicles of Malignant Mercies Index. A always a big thanks to Luriena, my key proof reader and best friend.

Dark April Fools

Detective Michael Briggs observed the youthful woman who sat in the other room quietly. The comfortable anonymity of the one way mirror let him focus as she was questioned gently.

Just like the young man she was found with.

“Do you recall who it was that took your father?” the dutiful examiner asked her.

“Yes.” Her response was matched by a slight, wistful smile. “He was taken away by a sweet angel. The Lord’s angel of vengeance came for him and took him away to his judgment. She freed us.” The conviction in her voice was an obvious thing.

Michael’s lips skewed into a slight frown. Just like the young man.

“Sounds like she got hit in the head one too many times.” Davis murmured beside him, dry humor in his voice.

“Maybe, but this composite she gave looks an awful lot like the woman I saw in the bar right around Thanksgiving. A little flattering, but it’s her.” Briggs lowered his eyes to gaze at the inked sketch that sat atop the gradually growing case file before him.

“I’ll still have to take your word on that, my man.”, Davis replied, looking to his partner. “But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole case has my skin crawling. It feels wrong.. like there’s something big we’re missing. Almost a year without a solid clue, then we get this blood sample that doesn’t match the missing victim. Come to find out it doesn’t match any known blood type and that it’s all.. different?” Davis shook his head, face grim set as he motioned toward the glass. “It don’t add up, especially now with this chick talking gibberish. No court would take her seriously.”

Michael nodded a quiet agreement. He’d read all the reports. The strange blood. Again, no body of the victim.. not even blood from him. It was all from her, supposedly. And by the patterns and the two empty shotgun shells, she had to have taken one, if not both barrels. And still managed to get away with this guy.

Frowning faintly Briggs’ eyes dipped to stare at the composite drawing. “Who are you?” he murmured lightly to himself.

The image stared back at him in silence.

*****

Derrick Ellings was bored. All around him party guests mingled amicably, chatting about the same old topics, inane and trite. The lovely hors d’oeuvres or the latest in fashions. Who was marrying who, who was breaking up with who and other topics of mindless gossip. There was a time when he cared just as much as they had, but as of late he couldn’t care less.

To his own personal horror, his desires for intimate conquest were just as sluggish and reticent. As he roamed about, half listening to the chatter, his predators’ eyes scanned female partygoers. It was uncanny, to him, how they all seemed just the same. Forced hourglass figures and generous bosoms squished into a size too small package of silk, satin or velvet. Take your pick of the provocatively elegant packages around him.

How many dozens like them had he known? He couldn’t remember, but now Mr. Ellings was loathe to even consider it, lest he expire in the midst of the act from sheer boredom.

Derrick stopped so suddenly he was almost knocked over by a couple that had been moving along behind him, the two grumpily berating his clumsiness as they went along their way. Derrick didn’t hear as he looked toward the entrance to the foyer, truly entranced.

She stood in the entrance to the reception hall, the dark simplicity of her black attire a beacon amidst the gaudy show of colored fabric and sparkling jewelry. Sharply contrasting with the porcelain pale of her skin, augmented more so when a doorman took her long cloak, black dress leaving her shoulders bare.

She was not exceptionally curvaceous like the women who surrounded him, her figure womanly, but more subdued. Her height and build almost elfin. Compelling to the jaded sensibilities of Mr. Ellings. Compelling him to motion as she drifted into the mingling crowd.

Derrick jerked his arm away and spun around when someone sought to still his approach. His bluster stilled when he saw that it was little Elsie Cunningham. His latest conquest. And she didn’t seem happy.

“You haven’t contacted me for a month.” she stated, her piercing tone accusatory.

Derrick, impatient to continue his chase, pushed aside his normal civility. “I never said I would. What do you want?” he hissed, keeping his tone subtle.

“An explanation.” Elsie fired back with indignation. “Why are you so cold now, when your words were so warm before?”

Inside, Derrick rolled his eyes. He quickly leaned toward the young, naïve woman and whispered harshly by her ear. “Because it’s over. We had fun, but that is all. Now leave me be, child.”

She was shocked by the harshness of his tone as much as his words, staring at Derrick as he straightened, glared at her imperiously for a moment, then turned to strike back out into the crowds. Sure, he could have smoothed things over with the young socialite, but that would have taken time.. time that would have lost him a prize greater than the young chit.

Frustration welled up inside him as he couldn’t immediately catch sight of his quarry again. It was all he could do to quickly evade the superficial chatter of the guests without leaving them offended in his wake. He had traversed a winding path across half the room before he sighted her again, apparently listening with cool attention to another male guest.

Eyes narrowing at the competition, Derrick made his way over with alacrity and at least one rather rude bump of those who blocked his path. But just as he began to close, she was gone. He’d only looked away for moments and.. Confused, he paused and tossed his gaze quickly about the room. There, again! He moved toward her with alacrity, yet as he closed she disappeared again, not unlike a fleeting dream.

Frustration and intrigue warred within Mr. Ellings as the game was joined. For nearly ten minutes this mutual dance played out, the warring emotions within him only fueling his desire to capture this elusive woman. At last he could see that the game was over, as he last spots her moving into a hall off the reception room. He quested after her, entering the hall without hesitation.

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