Happy End of February!
Time for our blog hop - flash fiction (under 1k words) from around the world. This time, the basic story concept has been nagging at me for a couple years, and if I get around to it, I’ll expand it out to something longer (but other stories are in the queue first).
Enjoy! And don’t forget to scroll down to the bottom for links to the other stories in the blog hop..
A Whole New World
I blinked, rubbed my eyes, looked again. The body on the worn carpet did not do me the favor of becoming any more human.
“What is this?”
“Dead body.”
I gave him my not amused glare. “No shit.”
“There are more things in heaven—”
“Do not quote Shakespeare at me. In public.” More in a hallway than in true public, but— A grin stole my mouth. “Someone might overhear you and get the wrong idea… that cops can be educated. Dare I say… ”
“Smart?” He snorted, the corners of his eyes squinting as he held back his own smile.
“Don’t laugh either.”
“Not while standing over a dead body?”
“Public perception,” I reminded him, cheating a glance toward the front room where more and more people were arriving. “Dumb, heartless bastards.”
“Yeah.” He sobered. Stared back down at the body. “So…?”
“Right.” I let my eyes focus beyond the body, scan the room. “Could be an elaborate prank.”
“Could be. Except for—” He jerked one thumb, indicating the Hispanic woman currently sobbing hysterically at the patrol officer and everyone else in the living room. As her family gathered around her, they seemed to catch her hysteria. I’d happily deal with the dead body rather than the family.
Not that I blamed her— if she’d seen what I saw.
And what I saw…
The victim, sprawled on her back between the bed and the door, in the only empty floor space. We’d hit the body with the door, forcing it open enough to see the victim was dead. And big, bigger than me, bigger than my partner, and he wasn’t short. Top half— woman, with a blue tint to her hair and bluer skin than would be accounted for by death. Bottom half— fins and scales.
I looked past the elephant-fish in the room. Small desk in one corner, the top overflowing with papers and leftovers from last night— a local Peruvian place to die for.
Well, hopefully not.
Neatly made bed and on top of the blanket, a veritable bucket of makeup, some of it open. Smudges of foundation on the victim’s face and fingers.
She’d been killed while making herself look more human.
I strangled the rising sympathy before it got past my breastbone. Feelings could come later, when I was alone and safe. Now, though— “Isn’t there some rule? About hiding from the humans?”
“Sure.” He winced. “I mean, I’m sure there must be, or they— we would have seen more of them. Before now.”
Now I turned my tell me the truth look on my partner. Let it dwell. He was tall and thin, pale with dark hair, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. In my line of work, leaning on stereotypes could get me killed. I murmured, “You got a call before Dispatch did. Anything you want to tell me?”
He had some resistance, but the longer I waited without speaking, the more he sweated, and the more he sweated, the more his mouth opened and closed, biting back words, and then— “I need your help. I don’t have the training for this.”
“Yet.” After all, I was training him.
He nodded. Looked relieved I hadn’t demanded to know what he was. “Yet. But these murders are happening now—”
“Murders. Plural.”
“Yeah.” His shoulders hunched. “Yeah, now. Three so far.”
“Same M.O.?”
“We covered up the first two.” Now he sniffed as if he hadn’t agreed with someone else’s decision— then wrinkled his nose and covered his mouth, regret at sucking in a giant whiff of death. “I’ve done what I could. Questioned everyone who knew the victims. But I’m obviously missing something, because—” he waved toward the newest body.
My gaze went back to the tail. “A real, live… er, dead, mermaid,” I breathed. “But why was she living on land?”
He shrugged. “Allergic to water.”
“Sorry, what?”
“It happens in about ten percent of the nereid population.” He started to shove his hands in his pockets, reconsidered, let his arms hang awkwardly at his sides. “They get rashes and their scales fall off in patches. It’s a whole thing. So they live on land and only get wet once a day in the shower, and everyone’s happy.”
“Obviously not everyone.” I squatted, examined the ligature mark on her neck. “What did they strangle you with, huh?” The mark had a faint pattern to it. If I could just make it out—
“So, you’ll help?”
I looked up at my newbie detective partner and realized two things— first, I’d twisted my neck at such an awkward angle it felt like a pulled muscle; and second, he loomed a little more than I liked.
Maybe that was a clue to his… race? species?
Either way, goosebumps ran over my skin. I stood back up and took a step away, carefully skirting the body and a paper on the floor. That gave me enough distance so his loom wasn’t quite so obvious. “Of course I’m going to help.” I snorted. “She was obviously sentient. Those are bank statements, and her landlord out there said she was quiet and kept to herself. Went to work, paid rent on time. More or less—” another glance at the tail— “exactly the kind of person I want living in my city.”
He raised his eyebrows.
I squared my shoulders. “I’ve seen weirder stuff on a Friday night in the bad parts of town. And I’m not letting a serial killing have their way in my city.”
He sagged a little. “Oh thank gods.”
“After, though, you owe me a drink. And a story.”
