Detectives Ansen Cole and Lance Carter stood in the cold, sterile autopsy room in the basement of the CSI headquarters. In front of them, on a gurney, lay the body of Ashley Browne, the first victim of a bizarre murder involving slashing of vital arteries and peeling off the facial skin. Across from them stood the portly coroner, Dr. Styles, explaining the autopsy details.
"The death resulted from slashing of the radial and carotid arteries, and the resulting exfoliation. The facial skin was peeled off postmortem. It has been done perfectly, with a surgical precision, so the killer has done this before. The victim had been tortured before she was killed, as is evident by the numerous lacerations on the body. There is evidence of repeated sexual assault. Also, she was bound with something like aluminium cords, as evidenced by the ligature marks on the hands and feet," the doctor spoke without pause.
"If the face was peeled off perfectly, it means that our killer is a professional. Might be a medical professional- like a surgeon?" Ansen asked.
"Yes, it is possible, Detective," Dr.Styles replied.
Lance felt his pager vibrating, and immediately took it out of the small pouch attached to the waistband of his trousers.
"Oh God!" he exclaimed, looking at the text on the small blue screen.
"What happened?" Ansen asked his partner.
"Another woman has gone missing from a mall. Her family just reported her disappearance," Lance replied.
"Let's go. Thank you, Dr.Styles," said Ansen Cole, and both men rushed out of the autopsy room.
"Most welcome, Detective," Dr. Styles said to their retreating backs.
**********
"Please...leave me alone. Please..." the woman spoke in between tears, as she struggled to set herself free from the ropes binding her tightly to the bed.
"You see, my darling Azalea, I can't do that! I can't let you go again!" he replied, walking about his workshop, collecting his 'tools', the ones he would use on 'Azalea'.
"I'm not Azalea...I'm Danna. Danna McBride. puhleessss...let me go. I promise not to tell anyone," the woman spoke, crying even more copiously as the adrenaline rushed in her blood, and she felt fear and panic surge within her.
"Shut up! Shut up, bitch! You're Azalea, you lie to me! I know you lie to me! Everybody lies to me!" he shouted.
The woman continued to cry.
Not being able to take it anymore, he sealed Danna's mouth shut with duct tape.
She still continued to make noises through the tape.
"Feisty one, aren't you, Azalea darling! Let me take away some of that aggression," he said, gleefully, as he walked towards the bed with a metal pick in his hand.
He felt a strange rush of ecstasy as he saw the woman's eyes widen in fear.
"The death resulted from slashing of the radial and carotid arteries, and the resulting exfoliation. The facial skin was peeled off postmortem. It has been done perfectly, with a surgical precision, so the killer has done this before. The victim had been tortured before she was killed, as is evident by the numerous lacerations on the body. There is evidence of repeated sexual assault. Also, she was bound with something like aluminium cords, as evidenced by the ligature marks on the hands and feet," the doctor spoke without pause.
"If the face was peeled off perfectly, it means that our killer is a professional. Might be a medical professional- like a surgeon?" Ansen asked.
"Yes, it is possible, Detective," Dr.Styles replied.
Lance felt his pager vibrating, and immediately took it out of the small pouch attached to the waistband of his trousers.
"Oh God!" he exclaimed, looking at the text on the small blue screen.
"What happened?" Ansen asked his partner.
"Another woman has gone missing from a mall. Her family just reported her disappearance," Lance replied.
"Let's go. Thank you, Dr.Styles," said Ansen Cole, and both men rushed out of the autopsy room.
"Most welcome, Detective," Dr. Styles said to their retreating backs.
**********
"Please...leave me alone. Please..." the woman spoke in between tears, as she struggled to set herself free from the ropes binding her tightly to the bed.
"You see, my darling Azalea, I can't do that! I can't let you go again!" he replied, walking about his workshop, collecting his 'tools', the ones he would use on 'Azalea'.
"I'm not Azalea...I'm Danna. Danna McBride. puhleessss...let me go. I promise not to tell anyone," the woman spoke, crying even more copiously as the adrenaline rushed in her blood, and she felt fear and panic surge within her.
"Shut up! Shut up, bitch! You're Azalea, you lie to me! I know you lie to me! Everybody lies to me!" he shouted.
The woman continued to cry.
Not being able to take it anymore, he sealed Danna's mouth shut with duct tape.
She still continued to make noises through the tape.
"Feisty one, aren't you, Azalea darling! Let me take away some of that aggression," he said, gleefully, as he walked towards the bed with a metal pick in his hand.
He felt a strange rush of ecstasy as he saw the woman's eyes widen in fear.
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