[Don't Starve] The Killer of 492 Woodrow Street

Cadaver Endeavors and Near Mental Breakdowns

The mortuary was a tall brick building with a black placard in the front stating the name of the establishment. Wilson had been there a couple of times to pick up death certificates and autopsy reports and all sorts of other medical paperworks so wordy and long it made his eyes hurt, but it was probably only the second time he'd ever brought Willow along. The last time had been when their mother passed away, and that felt like ages ago already. The Higgsbury twins walked up the staircase of the building, the bustling noises of the streets behind them fading as they opened and closed the glass door leading inside. The mortuary itself was cold inside, quiet and smelled strongly of disinfecting agents.

Immediately upon entering they saw a meek-looking secretary seated at the front counter. She looked up at them over a pair of thin black-rimmed glasses, her eyebrows raised, then motioned for them to come forward.

"Good morning, Detective...s? I was only told there'd be one of you coming today." The woman said.

"She's my partner. She's got permission to be here." Wilson insisted.

"Ah, alright then." The woman took from a small drawer in her desk a key. She then handed it to the twins and pointed to an unmarked door to the right of them. "Back there. The medical examiners are expecting you both."

"Thank you very much." Wilson twirled the key around his finger, unlocked the door, and stepped over the threshold with his twin in tow. The hallway it lead to was a stark white, the smell of antiseptics now stronger than ever. There was also another stench woven into the air, that of deceased human flesh. It was a truly repulsive smell, strong like an animal's carcass that had been left in the sun, and Wilson could see from the look on his sister's face that she definitely wasn't a fan.

"Christ, that's abhorrent." She groaned, pinching her nose shut. "Where do we go from here?"

"Usually there's an assistant who brings me to the right room, but it doesn't look like anyone's out here." Wilson snickered at his sister's reaction to the smell of death. "Someone looks like she's having fun!"

"Shut up, dumbass. God, you've barely flinched since coming in here. If I didn't know any better I'd say you enjoyed being in a mortuary, you sick fuck." Willow moaned. "Ugh, I think I might get sick myself, actually..."

"Pull it together and act professional. I'd like to think I'm a bit more accustomed to the smell of a cadaver than you are, that's all." The detective spotted a frazzled-looking man step out of one of the rooms and look around the hallway. "Oh, I think there's someone now. Don't make a fool of yourself or of me, got it?"

"Yep. Sure. Can't guarantee I won't vomit all over your jacket, though." Willow mumbled, clutching her stomach. Wilson waved the man over and he hurriedly approached, a clipboard in his shaking hands that threatened to clatter to the floor at any moment. He had a surgical mask pulled down to expose his mouth and black rectangular glasses with bloody fingerprints on the middle. His gloves and apron were bloody too; this man was likely a mortuary assistant or a medical examiner-in-training.

"G-good morning. I assume you're Detective Higgsbury." The man greeted and looked over at Willow. "Oh, dear. Are you alright, ma'am?"

Willow breathed in deeply through her mouth and tried to straighten out. "Y-yessir! Nothing's wrong over here!"

The morgue assistant looked over at Wilson with a concerned face.

"Don't worry, she'll be fine. She's with me." The detective assured him, putting an arm around his sister's shoulders to support her. "So how goes it?"

"Well," The man, probably in his twenties with freckles dotted all about his face and a mop of curly red hair, nervously pushed his glasses up his nose with trembling fingertips. His anxious brown eyes darted back and forth between the twins. "We're really not sure. The cause of death was blood loss, for sure, but there's also some evidence of blunt force trauma to the head and back as if she were pushed over premortem. Erm, but I'm sure you're not here for an oral report of what happened, are you?"