[Demon_Detective_Leo]

Alright, this is my first novel that i put alot of dedication into, and retooling the hell out of it. I will post it chapter by chapter. Chances are, I will just Update the first post and thanks to the magic of technology, we can use the find thing on the internet tools just to find the chapter that I added. These are first revised drafts and may gets some more changes but for now, I want to hear all the criticisim there is for it. Just let it lose and I will listen to every suggestion there is for it. Have fun reading this.
-Demon_Detective_Leo
P.S. I do not have a title for this yet, I can't figure it out what to call it.

Chapter 1
   “…My life isn’t full of action, sex, and violence like most hard boiled detective stories. My cases were sometimes slow and dull and sometimes they were fast and most eventful. In this time however, I had a case that was close to pathetic in figuring out who I was looking for. If the person didn’t say it was a monster that did it to her, not a human personified as a monster because of loss of morals, I would only be able to relay the information to a friend of mine in the federal office.
   However, that is not the case at the moment. For the moment, with it being a real monster, I listened to her pleading. She claimed, that one night not long ago, after she got done meeting her lover in the diner she worked at, she went home to go clean herself up. Her lover, a female researcher in the field of stories, assumed to be waiting at the dinner for her return. After she got to the front door of her home, it was the first floor of a two floor duplex; she opened the door and was quickly shoved into her home from behind.
   When she was on the ground, she told me that she was raped horrible and that she actual bleed from the event. A few thoughts came to mind that may have said it wasn’t a paranormal case and she had told me no signs that it was paranormal. I told her then and there that she did need to present a piece of paranormal evidence.
   At that point, it was clear that all but one of my thoughts were wrong at what had happened. She told me that the monster that rapped her had blood red skin and his eyes had a bright yellow glow where as normal eyes have whites around them.
   It became obvious as to what had happened now and how I can use this past event to catch the monster. However, I did hate using people as pawns because in a chess game, I am the king and most powerless person there is unless certain conditions are met. I told her not to worry and that I would have the case solved in no time. She asked of my retainer fee and I told her that all she had to do was place my fee in the mail slot when she left.
   I used this method all the time since most times when I am on a case, a previous client may come to pay me back for my services. When it came to cash or small items that could fit through the mail slot, I just asked them to put in the mail slot with care and not to worry about it anymore.
   When she left, I quickly grabbed my two guns, A Webley Top Break Revolver and my S&W .40 Police Semiautomatic Handgun. The Webley was my father’s long ago and I claimed it as mine when he passed away. I was unopposed by my claim because both my mother and brother died moments before my father did in the tragic event years ago and my thought that there were no other family members was proven right.
   When they left, I was able to pay off any debts they had and still had a tremendous amount of money still in my name. It was then that I sold my home and bought this two floor shop. The first floor acted as my shop as the second floor acted as my new home. I was young when I did this yet people took me to be serious and it was then left to decide one more thing. What to do with my life from here on?
   I had enough money to do as I wished for the rest of eternity yet I felt this pull that told me to do something in return to the world. That is when I got my Police Handgun. I had a client one day walk into my shop and she was asking for something that was cheap yet looked nice. I gave her something that fit that description yet somehow ended up with her number that was circled in red.
   I was guessing she thought I would like some company. She was going to be disappointed because I wasn’t biting. The next day, she came back with a smile on her face. I was thinking there was no way she could have gone as far as to try to track me down. I was wrong. She walked straight up to me and showed her badge to me that she was a federal agent. According to her, she was testing me to see what I would do and it came to find out that she wanted to offer me hand with my, so called hobby. With my current status in the government, I would be called an unethical detective that went after whispers in the wind. She would assure that I got the rightful respect for my work and show that those whispers could do a lot more to this world then the government realized.
   The only leg work I had to do was document all of my cases that I had done and what the effects were. When I presented my papers to the agent a week later, another case under my belt at the time, she told me that someone would be coming to see me do my work. I was against it because I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone’s life on the field. When the day came, it was the same agent and she looked to be expecting a war or something, she had body armor which would protect her from bullet wounds. I tried to explain that the armor wouldn’t work against any monsters but she didn’t listen. That night, I had gotten a lead of a possible lich in a cemetery not to far from the city. When I went to investigate, as I planned to do in a few moments after getting my guns, I found the lich trying to cast a doomsday spell.
   The agent went all Rambo on the lich which it didn’t work. I had to pull her back and take a small wound, which caused me to repair my black suit later after the case. I was then able to get close enough and obliterated the lich into some type of hell. I then went back home and tried to get my wounds fixed up. I suffered a small burn from the lightning but it was only residual heat and my body has taken worse hits. The agent kept on saying sorry for getting me hurt and was saying she would do anything. I had a feeling she was asking for the same thing she was trying to lure me with the first time I had met her.
   Knowing that the rules did require payment for what happened, I handed her my ruined suit and told her to get it fixed and she owed me one can of soda. That was equivalent enough in my opinion. However, by karma’s laws, which at times I have to follow, more would have been required to allow for it to equivalent. I think from that day forth, I had earned more then just her respect. In a way, I thought I gained something she held deeply in her heart yet I am still a little unsure of what it is.
   The next day, she came back with my suit, a can of cola, and two other items I wasn’t expecting. One was a type of billfold but I saw no badge on the inside to identify what squad it belonged to. The other was the Police Handgun. She told me that I passed their test they had set up; I am guessing she told the report truthfully and they somehow believed it. I was then told that the badge was only missing due to the fact that I was a freelancer so I technically didn’t belong to any of the squads. In terms, I was given authority to ask for whatever design I wanted to show I was a detective for the badge. I never asked for the badge to be made and I only kept the holder because it had the required documents to call myself licensed. In a way, this was equivalent according to karma’s law.
   So, as I placed my handguns in the holsters on the underside of my jacket, I choose to make a phone call to Sarah. I asked her about any increased number of rapes in the city and she told me that the east side of the center area was seeing slightly higher then normal amounts of rapes in the area. I was right about the hunting grounds for this monster being in the area of that diner. I thanked Sarah, the agent who I spoke of before, and then hanged up. I could see her coming around tonight to see if I was alright like she normally did if I called her on a case.
   I then consulted my plan and thought of what could be my main course of action. Obviously, this monster chooses to pick targets from the diner and it would have to be a female, just guessing on that part. If he did follow them, he would have had to leave maybe a few minutes after they left so it wouldn’t draw any attention to himself. A monster that raped women sounded like an Incubus and guessing about the general description of the rapist, it would be fair to say it is an Incubus. Now came down to the main method of catching this monster before he struck again.
   I made my way to the diner, planning on getting an early dinner and catching this monster at the same time. It wasn’t to far from my shop, although, I can handle a bit more of a walk that can last for miles without tiring or rest. So, in my opinion, it felt short and brisk, I could probably come to the diner more often now since I knew how far it was and how to get there from the shop. As I entered the diner, the feeling of light hit me as I saw that the wood glowed. I knew I whistled at this design and guessed that the person who made the wood furniture took their time and placed a lot of care into it. I could see booths and tables all around the small area, and a bar area upfront where someone in a vest and white apron stood.
   I started to feel like I was in a bar or something that was cheerful, I have seen cases where the bar looked as hopeless as the drunken patrons. I walked up to the bar and took a seat. The person in the apron, a big burly guy that wore the attire of some bar keepers from old west movies, handed me a menu and a glass with ice. I ordered a nonalcoholic drink and the special for the day. Because I sat at the diner longer then it took to eat my meal, the person asked me what I was doing there. So, I told him I was an undercover detective assigned to find the rapist of this area. I guess he believed me thanks to the news and gave me a refill on my drink.
   When it felt like I had been there an eternity, I saw a woman get up from her booth and walk up to the man in the apron. She gave him a quick kiss and then left. I cracked a small smile and told him he had a nice catch. I swear he blushed when I told him that and he even went as far as to tell me that they were engaged. For an odd reason, I had a feeling that the next person to get up was the Incubus and he was going after that woman.
   My instincts seamed to be right when a man got up from a booth and started to walk by us. He was wearing a ball cap and had on a tan colored trench coat. It wasn’t suppose to rain tonight and the winds weren’t suppose to be higher then your average breeze. This average Joe didn’t act like your average Joe when it came to clothing.
   As he started to pass me, I grabbed his arms and asked him, “Sir, can you tell me what an Incubus is?” I made sure my voice was its usual cold yet calm tone.
   He jerked a bit and replied hastily, “A demon that rapes women.”
   “Where did you hear that from,” I pressed on with the questions hoping to get him in a corner that would give him up.
   “From my church,” he urged but couldn’t get me to let lose. If he used any demonic powers on me, he would blow his cover and a part of him probably knew that.
   “Do you live in the area,” I asked; know seeing that the patrons around us were staring.
   “Yes,” I think he didn’t know what the importance was of these questions were.
   “So, I take it that your church is in the area,” I was getting ready to hit him with the phrase that got most spineless demons, such as an Incubus, with a punch filled with fear.
   “I work at the church for your information,” he started to jerk really hard. I then let go of him and saw him stumble backwards a few feet then regain his balance. “I swear that rich snobs such as yourself are a pain to the clergy.”
   “I apologize for my actions,” I made my movements and tone seam apologetic, “I just came from a funeral of a dear friend of mine and I feel the urge to confess my sins, it was her last wish I start a new after her death.” He looked dumbfounded and the way he stammered his words meant he felt a small trickle of fear.
   “I cannot absolve your sins; I am just a lowly worker. The pastor of the church can absolve them if you wish.”
   “Where is this church,” I asked as my last question. On the inside, I knew I had him because I remember that you call the preacher of a catholic church “Father”, you never call him a pastor. I could have been wrong about it but I know I had this guy.
   I finally knew I had the guy at this moment for sure. He said he knew the area because he lived in it and that he worked at the nearby church. He stammered to say the street it was on. I knew this was him, I would bet my life on it. “On the corner of 5th and Monroe,” He replied in a tone added on to my suspicion. I was now sure of it. The corner of 5th and Monroe were not in this area but to the far west in the harbor area of the city This was the suspect, but just to make sure he wasn’t a compulsive liar, I had one last trick to try.
   “Can you tell me if the name Macabre means anything to you,” my tone went back to the cold normal which could make ice cubes seam warm.
   “s**t,” he hollered and I could see the fear bloom in his eyes like a rose. I cracked a small smile and started to bring my right hand to my gun holsters under the jacket. I saw him turn his right arm into something and thrusted it at me. I jumped backwards from the stool and became lucky that it was only a short sword. I drew out the Webley revolver and quickly aimed at him. The jacket’s right arm was torn to shreds and the red skin became visible to me. I took in a quick breath and pulled the trigger. The shot hit the guy straight in the chest and he stumbled backwards. Aware that one shot to the chest wouldn’t kill him, I shot two more shots, one in each shoulder. He flung backwards into a wall and slid down until he was sitting on the ground. He looked to be breathing his last few breaths of life. I slowly walked up to him, letting my shoes clank on the floor and hoping to install the idea that I was the grim reaper into his mind.
   He looked up at me as I stopped a few inches from his body. He looked to be crying and begging for forgiveness.
   “You want me to forgive you for the crimes you have committed against mankind,” I asked in my cold tone, this time, without the comfort that some people hear in it.
   He nodded his head slowly; he looked like a whipped dog. I just now noticed that his hat was missing and the other patrons disappeared into the outside world of this diner.
   “You have raped so many women that were happy with their lives. Many of them have had their lives ruined because they lost their stable mind. So many of them have to act timid and reluctant when it comes to love so they do not get hurt anymore. In many forms, you have changed each of their lives in a negative way and I bet you that as much as any one of them wants it, they wish you were dead.” I raised the Webley up and pointed it at his forehead, directly between his eyes. “And you had planned on doing it all over again to that woman that left not to long ago. Do you think that you deserve to be forgiven?”
   He quickly lowered his head and started to shake violently. I could hear him sobbing and then, something unusual started to happen. He started to chant something. At first, I thought he was saying a spell to get himself out but then I recognized what the chanting was.
   Pater noster, qui es in caelis:
sanctificetur Nomen Tuum;
adveniat Regnum Tuum;
fiat voluntas Tua,
sicut in caelo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
Sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a Malo.
   I knew what he was saying and I knew this had to mean something. He repeated it over and over again, only to stop to catch his breath quickly between each prayer. I felt a hand on my shoulder and knew it belonged to the man with the woman the Incubus planned to go after next. My aim was still the same; it never missed what I aim for. I felt my finger pull back on the trigger and then a loud bang rang through the room. The gun smoked a bit at the end and the chanting continued without a pause. I sighed and thought it wasn’t in my hands anymore. I then turned around and saw that the man looked to be in tears. He must have also understood what the Incubus chanted, I quickly paid my bill and left the diner, not looking back and noticing I was chanting. Then I took my gun and…

[Demon_Detective_Leo]

Okay, I am laughing at this. I did not know there was an auto censor on the site. I guess I am glad I don't use swear words all the time in my writings then. Also, I have started work on chapter two as you read this.

[Devinoir]

Are you... hmmm... TRYING to write noir? Really?
Don't. You'll screw it. Just make her an horror story, ok, detective?

[onishadowolf]

Do a proofread and a spellcheck it will help the story be more flowing.  Also grammer check too, doesn't have to be perfect for a draft but.....needs polish.

[Demon_Detective_Leo]

Devinoir - I have no clue what noir is. Would you care to ellabriate on that? By the way, i tried writing horror once, I suck at it.

Onishadowwolf - Thanks, I plan on having it polished atleast two more times. My computer somtimes misses things in the full check it does, spelling, grammer, sentence structure, the works.

I would have had chapter 2 posted last night but a storm knocked out the power so I have to spend a bit more time on it. I didn't lose the story, my laptop went into power saver mode when the power went out and I couldn't see the keyboard at all.

[Demon_Detective_Leo]

I have to post it in each seperate thing now, apparently there is a limit to how many words per post and it includes extended modified posts.

Chapter 2
   “…It has been quiet lately. Most of my potential customers have been timid teen girls asking for something to help them get the person they think they want to be with. A ruthless sales person would have sold them something over priced. I, however, sold them something that was useless except for the fact that I gave the illusion that it will help them but in order for it to truly work, they had to take the first step themselves. I sold for a low price, I think as close to the price it was to get it shipped to my shop.
   I kept trinkets like that in my shop, for situations like this where the person only needed a boost of confidence from a little item that may not have anything special in it. However, my shop also had items that did as inscribed to do. I once gave an enchanted fox spirit to a child that seamed to get hurt all the time. Last I heard about him was that the hospital called his home worried on if he died because they hadn’t seen him for a long while. I chuckled when I heard that and was glad it helped him.
   So, with the exception of those love struck teens, it was quiet in my little wooden shop. The glow brightened the room to give the aura of happiness to anyone who saw it and the special items glowed bright themselves to draw attention to themselves.
   However, the little gold bell right above the store entrance door rang and I perked up from the counter I was behind. It looked to be a teen as well; however, something told me she wasn’t after a love sick trinket. She wore a black school uniform, her hair was half spiked and half down to her lips and the same color as the uniform, her skin looked pale, and she used a lot of makeup on her face. She had something in her hands and it was rolled up. I was guessing a picture because the outside I could see was close to dry clay white. She looked to be eyeing my shop, I guess the glow got to her as well, and then she walked up to my counter. I placed on a small smile and said, “Good afternoon.”
   “Can you tell me if there is something unusual about this painting,” she asked quickly. I ignored the fact she gave off a rude first encounter and she rolled the painting out on my counter. I looked at the painting, turning it sideways so neither of the ends hung off of it. At first glance, I could tell it was an oil pastel picture of a woman in a grey dress and her skin was a light color of grey. Her hair was jet black and looked to be cut short. I wanted to say this was a depiction of a woman from the colonial era but the skin and hair were off for a depiction. I did notice something a little unusual about it. It seamed to have a life of its own trapped in the picture. I looked closer at the face and saw a disappointed look in the eyes and the mouth showed no expression of happiness. I pulled back and thought about this picture for a second. Then, I noticed a little red dot hanging from her neck, I was guessing it was a she because the artist either failed to draw the obvious eye drawer or the person had a flat chest. I looked a little closer at that and saw it wasn’t a dot but a depiction of a red stone. The stone looked familiar to me; I guess I figured out what I would be reading about soon enough.
   I stood back up and looked at the teen, my smile still on my face. “Am I crazy,” she asked quickly.
   “Not at all,” I replied as I slowly rolled up the painting and handed it back to her. “It is definitely unusual and one of a kind. It is a great piece of work and I must say, for you to think it is unusual just starts to cover it.”
   “How’s that,” she asked quickly. I think this person was having a type of sugar rush or something and that explains the sudden quickness.
   “Whoever made this painting must have put their heart and soul into it because it has a bit of life inside it.”
   “My sister made it,” she sounded solemn now, was she hoping for an astral connection to her sister with this painting?
   “I see,” I replied.
   “Tell me,” she looked up at me and seamed to be gripping the painting a bit hard at the edges, “do you believe that there is something unusual about our world that society is not aware of?” I raised an eyebrow, wanting to ask if she had been watching me. I didn’t sense her as a threat so I guessed it was okay to be honest with her.
   I placed my elbows on the table and leaned in towards her. When our faces were only a few inches apart, I stated in my usual cold tone, “There are monsters in this world just thought to be stories. I have seen my fair share and dealt with them myself.” Her eyes seamed to widen when I told her this, I guess she got an answer that was half expected but the shock of the truth got to her.
   “No joke,” she asked in a tone that sounded scared.
   “Nothing to joke about when it comes to monsters.” The girl took a step backwards and I stood upright. I cracked a small smile and watched as she headed for the door. When I thought she was at the door, I hollered, “If a problem comes up with one of those monsters, give me a ring.”
   The rest of the day was back to the current season normality. When the sun had started to set and the street lights glowed the dull neon orange, I closed up shop and went to my home on the floor above me. Once inside my home, which seamed to be made out of the same wood that glowed in my shop, I decided to work on my dinner for the night.
   I would have normally made enough food for four people, enough for me, Alice who was a lovely friend of mine, Isabel who is Alice’s grand mother, and Sarah who is the agent and sometimes partner on my cases. However, Alice and Isabel were out of town and Sarah claimed to have to much work to do to come eat dinner with me.
   Once my black suit jacket was hung up in the closet at the front door, I followed the walkway that was glowing floor to the land of my kitchen. When I took a right, I landed in the land of chrome. The major kitchen appliances were chrome and the rest was the same dark red wood. I walked over to the fridge and opened it. Unsure of what to make, I did a quick inventory and then pulled out a red can of cola. I closed the fridge and then proceeded to pop the can open. After the hissing sound had passed a second later, I took a quick drink and thought about possible combinations. The idea of a small casserole came to mind or purple cabbage and rice.
   However, before I could make up my mind on what to make, something interrupted my train of thought. I heard a small clicking sound at the front doorway. I slowly, quietly, placed the can on the counter and thought for a quick second. Alice and Isabel were out and Sarah said she was too busy. If it was Sarah that decided to come she would have called ahead of time to make sure I wasn’t in attack mode when she came in. Once, she accidentally came in when I was unaware she was coming and almost popped her in the face, I was being stalked by a monster at the time. If it was Isabel, Alice would have been with her and she would have been giggling and laughing. The door opened quietly yet I didn’t hear a sound of footsteps. I went over to the wall the hallway had and leaned against it. As I waited for this unknown person to appear, I pulled out the .40 Handgun and turned the safety off. I then proceeded to quietly chamber a round and prepared for the intruder.
   I heard no footsteps, no breathing, and no creaking of rubbing clothes, nothing. I could feel my heart rate jump up and my breathing became long and deep. I had my gun up at the average height of person that would be walking incase they had learned how to become like a ghost. With this in mind, I was ready. However, what came out of the hallway wasn’t normal. I saw a skeleton hand appear out of the hallway and into the kitchen, grasping onto the wall. The hand then pulled forward the rest of the body and out came a monster in a black cloak.
   I was about to pull the trigger when I felt something grab my right shoulder. My vision started to lie and said I was in front of the fridge still. My right hand went for one of my guns but I felt a soft hand quickly grasp my hand when it tried to get the handgun. I tried to jerk my hand away but it failed.
   “Easy now,” the familiar voice told me as they held onto my hand. I then felt the hand on my shoulder turn me around and I could see Sarah standing in front of me. I felt my body tremble and my knees felt like giving out. I could feel that my eyes had widened at some point and now I felt guilty, I almost shot my friend Sarah for a second time. “You seamed to have gone brain dead or something when I came in.”
   Sarah was a woman of grace and death. She wouldn’t hesitate at anything unless she had good reason for it and I really doubted she was afraid of anything anymore after the lich problem. Her height was average, and seamed to be a little lighter then average. Her skin was fair white with long black hair tied in a tail and blue eyes. I have always seen her in a black suit that was like mine; however, I doubt she was trying to copy me.
   However, with all of those things, I felt like she was an emotional crutch for me because of the future I saw ahead of me. She quickly wrapped her arms around me and held me. I could hear her heart beat and the breaths she took while I was this close. “Kai,” she told me, “you have me worried, you know?” She had let go of me and I took a step back, right into the fridge. I could now feel the cold run up my spine.
   “How so,” I asked as I wondered about what brought Sarah here.
   “You have been zoning out a lot and I think it is linked to your emotional state of being,” she told be point blank. I sighed and then turned around to face the fridge. I then opened it up and pulled out the red can that should have been in my hand. I also pulled out one for Sarah.
   “What makes you say it is linked to my emotional state,” I asked as I closed the fridge with my right elbow and turned back around. I handed a can to Sarah and she took it from me. I then popped the top on mine at the same time she did.
   “I can see it in your eyes,” she replied in a solemn tone.
   “You believe eyes are the windows to the person’s soul?”
   “I do,” she told me as I took a sip of my drink, “and I can see the pain you are holding in your heart.”
   “If you can see this, then tell me what the cure is,” I noticed Sarah wasn’t drinking hers.
   “You are resting all of your problems on your shoulders,” Sarah stated as she looked at me dead in the eyes, “I know someone that wants to help you with your load.”
   “They are my problems and mine alone. I tread this path which is filled with danger and if I give myself ground to falter on, and then I will die.” Sarah quickly placed her drink on the counter to her left and then walked up to me.
   “I know you are living to me about why not,” Sarah told me as a feeling deep in my soul told me she was right. However, I saw something that could change everything. “So, grow up and tell her your feelings and let her help you.”
   “I have grown up enough not to let Madam Alice become a part of my problem.”
   “All I see is an immature child.”
   “It takes an immature child to know an immature child, Madam Sarah,” I replied. I then heard a quick crisp sound break the tension. My left cheek felt warm and I could see Sarah’s right hand in the air like she was going to backhand me. I stood their with my eyes showing no possible change was going to happen in the miracle of that slap.
   “If I have to, I will tell her myself and then you will have to deal with love for once,” she hollered at me and lowered her hand back to her side.
   “You tell her and you sign her death warrant,” my voice stayed calm and cold, she wasn’t rattling my cage.
   “Do you love her?”
   “Yes, and that is why I cannot tell her my feelings.”
   “How is your love for her going to cause her to die?”
   “One day in my future, I am going to find a truth and I won’t stop until it is exposed.”
   “I still don’t get why it will be her death warrant as you say?”
   “Because, the enemy will pick at my emotions and force my heart to fold by involving anyone I care about.” Sarah looked speechless to me now, possibly a little dumbstruck. “If I can keep her out of my heart, the chances they will target her as well will be less then they are now.”
   “What if,” she replied in a normal tone, “she thinks she can handle the danger?”
   “I will not let her get hurt because of me if it is possible to avoid it.”
   “What if she is hurting now because she sees what I see now,” Sarah asked me bluntly. I wanted to reply to what she told me but now I felt dumbstruck. Nothing came to mind of what to say, I felt like a new born child because of this loss. Sarah walked a little closer to me and wrapped her arms around me again. “I understand what you mean, but I think she wants to help you with your problem.”
   “But…”
   “I think if it came down to it, she can handle herself if they came after her.”
   “But…”
   “If she can’t, I know you will be stubborn not to die and save her. Then reveal the truth and be back home so she can place a Band-Aid on your wounds.” I wanted to say something but I felt like she could come up with an answer to anything I questioned. “If you have nothing more to object to, then I can offer you something that may help.”
   “And that would be,” I asked as I looked up at Sarah.
   “Emotional Support for you,” Sarah replied. I felt like crying for a second but I forced the feeling to pass and then I stepped to the side to get out of Sarah’s grasp.
   “Why are you here,” I asked now, wanting to change the topic we were on.
   “I have a case for you and I know you will enjoy it,” Sarah replied as I noticed a small smirk appear on her face. “Eleven people have been found dead all the same way and all in the same area of their home.”
   “Which is?”
   “They were found as skeletons laying down as if nothing was wrong.”
   “Except for the fact is they are dead.”
   “You see why I need your help?”
   “People found as skeletons in their own homes yet no one had found them and I doubt the smell would have gone unnoticed or someone would have come by to get their rent or something. It seams oddball enough to me. Is there anything else you can tell me?”
   “They all had the same picture of a woman on a wall which their feet were pointed at.”
   “You have got to be …”

[Devinoir]

Dear Detective, noir is usually a dark detective story with a strange twist to it, often narrated by a protagonist of some sorts, who can be almost anyone - a prostitute, a depressed detective, a gangster... I've written two books in that genre, one is narrated by a psycopath who thinks he's a vampire, the other on by a priest who's dragged into the world of crime.
Yet reading your pieces I'd say E. A. Poe should have had a great influence on you... has he not?

[Demon_Detective_Leo]

I have never read a piece of work by Poe yet. I have however read books by Koontz and King and Jance, I know of a few others. I have watched mystery and paranormal movies, of Douyle is one person I like to read all the time. However, due to the fact that my novel is still in development, I may be able to pull off this noir because not every play starts off with the so anticipated death. You have to hook them before hand with something else when choosing to save death as an after taste delight. Domna?

[Devinoir]

I have never read a piece of work by Poe yet. I have however read books by Koontz and King and Jance, I know of a few others. I have watched mystery and paranormal movies, of Douyle is one person I like to read all the time. However, due to the fact that my novel is still in development, I may be able to pull off this noir because not every play starts off with the so anticipated death. You have to hook them before hand with something else when choosing to save death as an after taste delight. Domna?

Stephen King? He's great, but he's just a POP novelist. You don't wanna be POP, do you? Do it dark and cool, you know.

[Demon_Detective_Leo]

I plan on making my writing sharp as the mental blade and cut through the hogwash that these modern writers have made and return writing to its old true power.

[Demon_Detective_Leo]

Chapter 3
   “…the sight at the crime scene was rather clean for a paranormal case. Most times I see a paranormal crime scene; I have to take a close look at the victim to make sure that they were human before their current state. Blood splatter on the walls, the torn limbs thrown around like a child’s toy. This one however, this one was different. The supposed victim was found lying on his wood floor. When I saw a skeleton just lying there, I was shocked not to see clothing or blood on or around him. I thought this was just some sick joke but I was assured this wasn’t but Sarah.
   I looked around the room. The tan colored walls with green trim at the tops seamed to be undisturbed. No blood or random fragments could be seen in the area. This one had me stumped. If this was done by an acidic solution that melted only skin, where was his clothes? And if the solution was strong enough to melt his clothing as well, how come the floor has no burns or the skeleton was lying down on the floor? That was another thing that got me, why was he on the floor to begin with. The area he was in was partially covered with a large shelf of books on a wall and a green chair on the opposite wall of a painting. If I had to guess, the room was four meters by five meters. I thought about this for a second on why he was laying down when I stood up and looked at the picture his feet were facing. It was close to an exact replica of the oil pastel that was brought into my shop earlier today, however, it was missing the red stone.
   “Every one of our victims has been found the same way as this one,” Sarah told me as she walked into the room through a door that was next to the chair. I didn’t bother to look back. “I wonder if they suffered any when they died.”
   “Chances are they didn’t even feel it coming,” I stated as I remembered that the hands were open instead of closed. “If the person had felt pain, his hands would have been curled up enough to show a sign of pain. If he was standing up when that happened, his fingers would have uncurled due to gravity. However, if he was standing at the time of the death, he would have fallen backwards due to said gravity and chances would be that he would be in many pieces.”
   “I wonder where you remember this stuff sometimes,” Sarah stated as I heard her take a few steps towards me. I walked away from the oil pastel painting and looked at the works of writing that were on the shelf.
   “As Sherlock Holmes once stated, and I am sorry if I miss quote this,” I stated, “but he said that our minds are like attics and all we know is stored in it. I choose to keep mine vacant except for the things needed for my job because our attics are not made of elastic walls.”
   “You read Sherlock Holmes novels,” Sarah asked me as I noticed this person had some mystery novels on his book shelf.
   “I believe he said it in the novel, “A Study in Scarlet”,” I replied as I thought about the last time I had read one.
   “So,” Sarah asked as I heard her walking around in the area, “any leads or anything?”
   “None,” I replied as I walked back over to the painting. I thought that the painting might have had some key importance to the case. “How do we know this is who you guys say it is?”
   “Camera feed from six in the afternoon today shows him walking in.”
   “I assume that he didn’t leave nor did anyone else come here from six to now with the exception of cops.”
   “With him being on the twelfth floor of this building, I doubt he could have jumped down from this floor and reach the ground floor alive without drawing a crowd.”
   “How about camera feed from the first time he left the building to six in the afternoon, anything then?”
   “Only people that live in the other apartments or maintenance. Other then that, no one.”
   I took in a deep breath and thought about these key facts as they told me a story which was missing something. “How did someone know the victim was dead to begin with?”
   “People heard a dog barking up here and when the manager came to check it out, he came in here and found our friend here.” I looked at the floor and saw no scratch marks, a dog hadn’t been here from what I could tell.
   “Some dog not to leave scratch marks on a wood floor.” I looked back at the painting and noticed something odd. The picture looked to have been tilted a bit. I went to touch the frame when I heard something rattle behind me. I looked behind me but nothing was out of place. Sarah looked at me with a curious look; I just shrugged my shoulders and went back to moving the picture frame. When my hands grasped around the frame, I lifted it up off the wall and saw the space where it should have been. However, something that shouldn’t have been there was visible as well. I saw the Star of David written in blood and a circle that touched each point. I then saw a circle around that one and another circle around the second one. It looked to have Latin written around the outer ring and runic symbols between each point of the star. That symbol looked familiar to me, a cult spell that I had seen before but I couldn’t remember where I saw it last. I then heard the rattling again and saw the blood glow.
   I took a quick breath and then heard Sarah holler like a scared child. I looked behind me and saw that the skeleton was back on its feet. A red glow came from the eye sockets and I knew then where I had seen that symbol. “You really have got to be kidding me,” I said under my breath. I went for my Webley Top Break Revolver, a bigger then necessary weapon of choice, and started to pull the hammer back while pulling it out.
   The skeleton lifted its head up and I knew it was staring at me. Before I could get the revolver out, it rushed at me and I had to dodge it. I swung the revolver around but the skeleton quickly turned at me and swung for my gun. It had hit the gun out of my hand before I could pull the trigger, my heart raced like a horse and the fear of death creped little by little into my bones. I brought my hands up and grabbed onto the wrists of the skeleton as it raised them. I felt the wall rush to meet my back for an unexpected meeting and the skeleton lowered its head. Looking to have been trying to bite me, I heard a clicking sound of a gun and guessed Sarah was taking aim. “You idiot,” I hollered at Sarah, frustration clear in my voice, “you fire that gun and you may hit me.”
   “What do you want me to do then,” Sarah hollered back at me. I was unsure of what to have her do because this didn’t make sense. Why did this happen now, why not earlier when the person found the body or when Sarah and I walked in? Did removing the painting and seeing that symbol actually cause this?
   Unsure of what to do, I felt my hand get cold and saw a dark mist form around the skeleton’s body. It then seamed to take shape and form a cloak around the skeleton. The cloak formed around the body and went as far down as the feet, causing a black, visible, vapor to form out of the cloak and escape into the air where it quickly disappeared. The black mist then formed around the skull and started to form a hood which blacked out any visible features. Then, I realized what was going on, even thought this was my first official time feeing it.
   “What the hell is a wraith doing here,” I hollered as I brought my knee up and aimed for the chest cavity. I was able to hit it and it looked to have done something because the wraith took a few steps back. It brought its hands to the area, looking to me holding the area I had hit, was it in pain?
   It then stood back up and started to charge at me. I knew I was done for because it was obvious it didn’t feel pain and when I had tried to hit the cavity, I didn’t feel anything connect with my knee. Bullets wouldn’t do the trick if my knee did nothing. I dodged to the right, the wraith slamming into the wall a second later. I made up my mind that I would have to use my last resort weapon and it was basically a hit or die weapon.
   I felt my arm turn ablaze inside my arm as the energy flowed through it, producing the blue glow that it did. The wraith turned to look at me, my arm was up now and ready to be used. It charged at me, its arms out in front of it. I could see its hands trying to grasp onto my head when I guessed it was close enough not to miss. I let the energy fire off through my hand, the fire put out and the glow stopping when it flew towards the wraith. I was blinded for a second. That second felt like an eternity.
   My heart continued to beat as hard as possible and my breaths became long and deep, my body exhausted. I felt like I could turn into a rag doll and just fall over, I was wrong about being able to relax.
   When the second was over, I could feel the skeleton like hands grasp the sides of my head and inside the hood I could see the dark abyss. It looked hopeless and dead, a place where I would be going soon. I knew it was the end, the final act for the play of my life. My fingers twitched with the energy I had left, wanting to react but couldn’t.
   When I thought it was getting ready for the kill, I heard gunshots from my right and heard the wraith howl with pain. I wanted to look at who was firing or what they were firing at, but the wraith had a tight grip on my head. I was hoping it was Sarah but I still had to deal with the wraith that could kill me now. Instead of killing me, I heard it whisper, “The red stone, the artist, spear of power, macabre.” It then slowly dissolved into nothingness and I feel onto the ground. I heard something fall right in front of me, but my eyes were filled with tears. I coughed violently, was this how it felt to have your soul be sucked out by the wraith?
   I then heard the patter of feet and felt a hand on my back. I could barely make out black shoes in front of me. “Everything is going to be okay,” Sarah told me as I got up onto my knees. I was about to wipe my eyes from the tears when Sarah wrapped her arms around me and held me. I heard more feet as the clattered along the floor.
   “What happened in here,” someone asked as I felt the fear stay in my body. For the first time in awhile, I felt useless and I almost died for it.
   “We had a monster attack us,” Sarah replied, I was wishing she was Alice instead for some odd reason.
   “I take things are okay now, right,” the person asked this time. I tried getting up for a second but felt Sarah just hold on tighter.
   “Yeah, we almost lost Kai here,” Sarah responded, I wanted to get up more now.
   “Is he okay?”
   “I think so; he was face to face with the monster.”
   “Alright, we will go back outside then.” I heard the footsteps walk away as my heart started to beat at a normal pace. I looked up at Sarah and saw her looking down at me. She had a small smile on her face.
   “I’m sorry I hesitated like that,” Sarah told me, in her calm mother like tone, as she brought one of her hands up and wiped the remaining tears off my face with her sleeve.
   “I couldn’t stop it, even with the weapon,” I told her, I could hear the fear in my voice.
   “I took a guess on where to fire. You did the most logical thing possible.”
   “I felt weak and hopeless during that fight, I still do now.”
   “That’s why,” she brought her hand up to my face and cupped it, “you should let Alice in to help you. She would be able to help you in times like these.” I cried a bit more and Sarah wiped the tears off again. I then tried standing up; Sarah held an arm around me to support me. “You used a lot of energy in that shot, huh?”
   “I may have to go home and rest for the rest of the night,” I replied as I noticed the symbol had gunshots around it and one in the center of it. “Nice guess.”
   “Thanks,” Sarah told me as I looked around again. I saw a skull on the ground a meter away from me and I motioned to Sarah I wanted to look at it. She walked with me over to it and we squatted down together. I reached for the skull and picked it up. It felt smooth and polished, yet it looked roughed up.
   “Hell,” I stated as I looked at it. Sarah looked at me with an odd look, almost as if she thought I had lost my sanity. “You asked about what he went through. He’s going through Hell.” Sarah nodded her head as I looked at the skull closely. I noticed a runic mark in both eye sockets. They looked like two of the symbols that were apart of that symbol on the wall. I figured out what the symbol was now. Chances were, when he was melted down to bone, this was scratched into his skull and then attached to the wall. The other symbols were his soul, this is by guess, and became dormant because the picture blocked it from hitting the body to finish the spell. Then, his body was laid down in front of the picture and then whoever did this left.
 Chances were they knew it would draw my attention and this was a trap to kill me. This person even went as far as to make sure the soul became a wraith. They used one strong monster to make an attempt on my life, they mean business. Did I have an unknown enemy against me and they don’t want me to get a good headwind on this case? One thing is for sure, whoever they are, I am going to find out who they are but I need to pull back for the time being. I have to regroup and make a plan based on these facts…”

[Devinoir]

I plan on making my writing sharp as the mental blade and cut through the hogwash that these modern writers have made and return writing to its old true power.

Good luck on that, buddy. See, we DO have something in common - megalomania... isn't that great?
By the way, try Kadzuo Ishiguro, he writes old school detective stories and he IS something different from an average modern writer.

[Demon_Detective_Leo]

Ill look into him. And what do you mean ... *thinks about it* yeah, you may be right we both have it. By the way, thinks for posting your comments in here, I saw the view count and wondered am I writing to a deaf crowd or something.

[onishadowolf]

Not to a deaf crowd, I'm reading it and making a comment. I've only had two people comment to my writing.

[Demon_Detective_Leo]

Sorry Oni, i forgot you posted in here as well. My mind loses it sometimes.