Animal Mutations

Vivian's POV:

The scene that lay before me was horrifying and deeply unsettling. The body had undergone grotesque alterations, defying all sense of normality. The lower half had been sliced and replaced with a dog's lower body, while the neck was restrained to the operating bed. Adding to the eerie atmosphere, the right ear had been replaced with that of a dog's, and the victim's eyes were bloodshot. This sight left me utterly startled and disturbed, and I know I will not easily forget it. Damn, just when I thought the other victims were killed brutally.

I turned to Harper, making sure to ask him, "Did they preserve this crime scene as I instructed? Ensuring nothing is disturbed?" I reached into my pockets, searching for my gloves. Harper nodded in affirmation, understanding my reasons for such caution. "Of course, detective. I know how particular you are about these things. Take your time," he enunciated before bidding me farewell and closing the door with a thud, leaving me alone in the room, now turned into a crime scene. I sighed, put on my gloves, and took a moment to survey the room before delving into the investigation.

As I reached the operating table, I noticed empty syringes scattered around, but no bloodstains were noticeable except those on the victim's body. The lack of blood in the area perplexed me, but I knew I couldn't rely on camera footage to help my search. Because these operating rooms maintained strict confidentiality. I knew it was a disadvantage.

Ignoring the sterile scent in the room, I scrunched my nose, donning my facemask for protection. Placing my arms on the operating bed, I examined the victim's body thoroughly, searching for clues to shed light on the horrifying events that transpired there.

I noticed his skin was turning purple-ish, and his arms had open needle holes; his flesh was so delicate that I couldn't help but think he died from an injection overdose. And the lower portion of the body appears to be too fresh. Perhaps a diversion? So many thoughts raced through my mind. Just then, a card drew my attention, and I knew what it was before I ever read it. It was vital to save it as proof, so I picked it up and placed it in a ziplock bag.

Curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to gather a couple of syringes off the floor, curious about the contents of these strange substances. However, because I am not from the forensics department, I would have to send them for examination once I left the premises. The entire event was undoubtedly odd, leaving me with an uneasy sensation.

I took out my notepad and carefully noted my observations while I explored the crime scene. I noticed no traces of forced entry, scattered needles on the floor, the victim's unusual position, and a conspicuous lack of blood in the surrounding area. I had gathered all the critical information I needed from this disturbing scene.

I turned around and headed for the door as I reappeared in the hallway where I had previously been. I raised my head and saw a camera facing the hallway. I started to wonder... Was that camera here when the incident happened? I removed my gloves and face mask and threw them in a nearby garbage bin. I continued to stroll down the corridor to where I had previously been when Harper and I had been walking.

I've already handled cases... but not as violent as this one. What on earth was the murderer thinking? I furrowed my brows as I peered around corners to see which cameras faced each hallway. I had to be vigilant, and I'd have to write my police reports, just like the other detectives. It was hectic.

I let out a sigh of mixed emotions as I put my hands back into my pockets, making my way to the lobby. There, I spotted Harper talking with another police officer. "Harper!" I called out, getting his attention. His expression formed an "O" shape as he turned towards me. The police officer he was talking to excused himself, leaving us alone.

I approached Harper and gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. He adjusted his round glasses before speaking, "Yes, detective? Did you find anything?" Harper had a habit of addressing me as a "detective" when we were on duty, reflecting our professional relationship.

Reaching into my pocket, I retrieved the ziplock bags containing the evidence and handed them to Harper, who raised an eyebrow, quietly observing my movements. I swatted the bags in front of his face and made a request, "Can you do me a favor and submit this as evidence? You understand why I can't rely on one of our officers to do it for me." Harper nodded, instinctively taking the bags from me and securing them in his pocket. "Of course, don't worry about it. Is there anything else?" he questioned while I reached into my pocket and lit a cigarette, placing it between my lips. Squinting my eyes, I pondered momentarily before responding, "Ask the forensics department for an autopsy report. I've completed what I needed to do in that room. Also, check the cameras for the hallway. Any leads on suspects or potential witnesses?" Out of the corner of my eye, I observed Harper frantically searching his notebook, scanning each page thoroughly.

"Detective, no one was present at the lab this evening, and I couldn't interview his colleagues either. Maybe you'll have better luck with them, considering the lack of evidence," Harper told me, sighing with exasperation. He handed me a brown folder, likely containing the limited information we had gathered. It was no surprise that there were no witnesses around at the time of the crime, just like in the previous cases. It seemed that luck wasn't on my side this time. The investigation was proving to be even more challenging than I had anticipated.

I gratefully accepted the brown folder from Harper, scanning its contents for a moment. To my surprise, it was filled with names, addresses, and their relationships with the victim, Diego. I couldn't help but be impressed by how quickly Harper compiled this information in just one day. He was honestly the best asset to the team.

I smiled as I closed the brown folder, holding it close to my stomach. "Thanks, Harper. I don't know what I'd do without you," I expressed my gratitude, and he responded with a satisfied smile, "Anytime, detective." He saluted me, and I playfully returned the gesture, winking at him. God, I wouldn't know what to do without him.

I exited the building while carrying the brown envelope, avoiding the numerous police cars that encircled the area. I finally reached my parked car, and with a sigh of relief, I opened the door and settled into the driver's seat, shutting the door behind me.

The engine roared to life as I turned the key, leaving behind the lab. As I drove away, my thoughts were consumed with the events that had transpired throughout this complex case. I came to the painful realization that I couldn't even totally trust the police department. Do you want to know why?

We were taking precautions but have yet to apprehend and imprison the murderer. Why, exactly? It seemed possible that someone was sabotaging us in the department, as Detective McCarthy, the first detective who served two victims in this case, had suggested. You can never be too cautious when dealing with a serial killer without a face.

Whether we labeled them as a vigilante or not, the fact remained that the killer was still at large. The situation cast a dark shadow over our department, tarnishing our reputation. External voices criticized us, claiming we were at fault and had not done our job properly. But I couldn't help but scoff at their judgment. After all, how could they solve the case themselves if they were so quick to point fingers at us?

Nobody here can be trusted, not the officers, not even my superiors, not anybody. This was why the case had devolved into a breach of trust.