Chapter 28: A Rancid Recollection

Main Street and Park, The Attison District, Temple City (3040).....

The orange glow of Baddwulf's cigarette had been barely making itself known as the stream of white smoke floated above it as he made his way toward his office, He'd been dressed to impress so to speak from head to tie despite his usual lack of care in terms of getting out the wrinkles. His messy black locks were slick from his most recent shower and neat as he moved along the sidewalk wearing a light grey trench coat and a black suit with shiny black dress shoes as he moved about the sidewalk pondering his next move and what to do about his two main cases. He conceded that he had been a bit brash when it came to wanting to get his hands on Blacky Clay and should have done some recon before storming the place but he had all the information he needed about who'd been on the snide little imp's payrolls, even if it did cost him a few well-healed bruises.

Baddwulf had been pondering his latest cases quite a bit on his route toward his office very sure that Jake had been privy to the rumors about his fight with the bull-man especially given his spy gadgets, he'd gotten halfway toward the building when the all too familiar and unsettling stench of rotted flesh and mildew had gotten his attention. He instantly wrinkled his nose not at all wishing to indulge in such a stench but there was something familiar about it that seemed to intensify.

The scent of death and decay had been all around as well as the thick coppery scent of blood and excrement filled the air. He'd been caught off guard by it and nearly vomited the contents of his breakfast before he managed to quell it and turned his nose to investigate what had occurred to make such a horrible smell.

Stifling his cigarette, Baddwulf followed the rancid stench down the street and toward a rather familiar alleyway where he found the beat cops once more out in force and a crowd of concerned citizens all asking questions that once again evaded with the combined efforts of polite words and red tape.

Baddwulf had nouse for red tape, he had made up his mind to go straight to the source or at the very least to his friend down at the morgue. The body was displayed just the same as the first one, and the stench had been a combination of whatever attacked and the result of utter terror as the poor unfortunate victim had met the end of their life.

Baddwulf shook his head as his mind translated the nature of the event.

Whoever the sap had been, they were scared shitless.

Taking one last look at the tarp-covered body and the pools of blood that surrounded it, Baddwulf had made up his mind to change directions and head down to the morgue to see Arthur Pearson. He knew that he'd missed his chance with the first body but knowing how detailed Arthur's notes and memory had been, he had a hunch the same shadowy figure draped in black from the first time a body had been found was responsible for this newest body killed in the same fashion.

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The Morgue, Penniman Ave, Downtown, The Attison District, Temple City (3040).....

To say that visiting the place where the city often had an influx of dead had given Baddwulf an awful feeling was an understatement as he casually strolled into the building and down the stairs to the basement largely ignored by the guards due to everyone being fully aware of who he'd been. Arthur Pearson and Baddwulf had gone back ages, cultivating in The Geredy Wars, a time when would-be tyrant and crooked politician Warren Geredy had attempted a coup of the city and they were young and dumb teens out looking to prove themselves.

Geredy was a crude businessman from Beverland and wanted to seize control over Temple City and the whole Western coast to make a kind of utopia within a utopia of his vision. Needless to say, the people of Temple City had not been fond of being told what to do by a rich dirtbag, especially since everyone was still embittered about The Great Regression.

Young men all over the city felt it their civic duty to uphold their new way of life at all costs and as a result, took to the streets and spilled a lot of blood in a bid to keep Temple City as independent as it believed it had been despite the hidden hands having been at work behind the scenes. An open declaration of war had plunged everything into chaos and even the hidden hands were pissed at the outcome of Geredy ruining things.

He'd been dead before he knew it and the war had been won.

Arthur and Baddwulf had served together and watched each other's back during the chaos and had been the best of friends ever since. Arthur was a mort, ironically and his opinion of Graphites had changed drastically from terrified and suspicious to testing the waters between individuals making a point not to overly judge them on their abilities and appearances or welcoming them too much just because of his friendship with Baddwulf.

For the most part, Arthur was a good man and a well-off one, he spent most of his days in the cold basement surrounded by dead bodies, something he got used to during the wars. He had something of a chaotic social life with women hopping in and out of his bed, although he never told him how he made so much money knowing all too well his job title made people uncomfortable, mort and graphite alike.

Baddwulf strolled into the corridor recalling only briefly how it had not been a good idea to light his cigarette around formaldehyde as he tucked it back into his front pocket and went passed the heavy metal doors that lead to where Arthur worked.

Art had been an average-sized man with a lean build and often given to having messy red curls and emerald green eyes that complimented his pale pallor. He could have easily been mistaken for a corpse himself if not for the white lab coat and dark brown square-framed glasses.

"Figured you'd be coming by," said Art turning his attention to the newly arrived Baddwulf as he stepped inside the cold morgue.

"Couple bodies in a row got to be some kind of record in all this heat," said Baddwulf in his usual gruff tone.

"Now Baddwulf you and I both know that those details are classified," said Art with a smirk before tossing a binder with a few notes in it to him. "I've got lunch to see to, make sure you've made yourself scarce before anyone comes along."

"Sure thing Ivy Leauge," replied Baddwulf catching and opening the binder as Art walked out.

Baddwulf smirked when he looked down at the notes and photos about the two bodies that had come to Art ever since the random killing in the middle of the street.

They had already burned them, the stench was so thick that Art made note of it but from the torn and tattered remains of them, Art had managed to get some good stuff beforehand.

The first victim had been none other than Dennis O'Leary, of the O'Leary boys that ran the east side docks like the back of their hands. He was a Graphite like Baddwulf, a humanoid dog like his brothers and he'd been on the receiving end of a few vicious claw marks from what Baddwulf could make of the marks on his body. He'd been half mutilated and what had been worse, his throat had been torn out which resulted in all the blood.

The second victim was a human man by the name of Amos Tobbs, he wasn't any connection to The O'Leary boys as far as Baddwulf had known but he was a known philanderer and frequented The Dope Diamond. As Baddwulf further pawed over the evidence and notes he had concluded that O'Leary had been there more often than not as well.

He briefly wondered if it had anything to do with Blacky Clay, his hoods had it in for The Dope Diamond before and it was highly likely but to tear out their throats and mutilate them meant outright hatred, a crime of passion so to speak. Blacky Clay was a pain in the ass but up close and personal wasn't at all his style. However, that didn't mean that someone wasn't in his social circles capable of doing something like this.

As the minutes ticked on, Baddwulf had been so busy reading that he almost didn't notice the sound of the footsteps coming to the morgue and wheeling another body just as he caught a glimpse of the remains of the other photos.

He ducked into one of the hidden closets as the new body was wheeled in by two orderlies. He could see from where he peered from his hiding place that the third body had been a massive one and some of the entrails had been ripped and spilled onto the floor causing a large streak of blood and the rancid stench that wafted through the room.

"Glad I'm done with lugging this one around." muttered one of the orderlies. "Fat brute sinks to high heaven."

"Whoever took this brute out, he must have had it coming." remarked the other orderly as they both took off toward their next assignment and better-quality air.

Baddwulf resisted the urge to gag as he climbed out of the closet and slowly approached the body on the slab. They had not been kidding. It was quite the body much larger than the slab as it lay there with a white sheet draped over it and the stench strong and vomit-inducing.

Despite the rancid smell, Baddwulf willed himself to have a good look at the poor unfortunate fool before taking his leave for cleaner air. He pulled back the sheet and found himself unnerved to find that he'd been staring down at the dead body of The Bull-Man that had attacked him the other day. His throat had been ripped out and his entrails were just like that of the other two victims.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" Baddwulf said stumbling backward in shock.

He had personally known how hard this guy hit and as a result, he couldn't believe he'd been taken down in such a brutal fashion by anyone daring to get close enough to those horns.

"So much for the rematch," remarked Baddwulf as he placed the sheet back onto the dead bull-man. "And so much for my Blacky Clay theory."

Baddwulf quickly went over the key details and took a few photos with his watch before leaving the scene not wishing to get Art in any hot water for letting him poke around before the higher-ups got involved.

Whatever was going on in Temple City, it wasn't at all the makings of a gang war. There was a serial killer on the loose and no one seemed to be any the wiser about it.