MILD CONTENT WARNING - GRAPHIC SCENE OF GORE
Thursday 6:03 p.m. November 3rd
"No more chances Kim. Face it. You struck out. Come on back, I'll make sure to assign you something more your speed."
Michelle Kim hated sports metaphors and refused to be dismissed by one. She knew she was onto something. Something big. The second she stepped foot in Lancet Falls, that niggling sensation in her spine she'd come to associate with a juicy story, had been her constant companion. Early in her career, Michelle learned it was far better to ask for forgiveness than permission. No, scratch that, if the story was big enough, schmucks like her boss, Marty Werner, would be asking her for forgiveness.
By the time Michelle had convinced Marty there was a story in Lancet Falls, The Chronicle was the last to the party. At every turn, Michelle and Ron , the official photographer for The Chronicle, got to the scene in time to mop up the sloppy seconds. The two even managed to miss that masked idiot jumping around trying to fight crime, when just about every news outlet in the state had caught a glimpse of him at least once. Still, that feeling in her spine remained, taunting her, reminding her that she was close to something monumental.
Of all the things her parents had shoved onto her, there's two things she never let go. Never give up was one, and culture is everything. While other reporters tried to chase the story, Michelle focused on the people and learned their culture. She intertwined herself with the culture of the town or community the story affected most. Michelle became a student and pseudo-member of Lancet Falls, consuming every bit of gossip, hearsay, and tall tale she could stomach, and it was about to pay off big.
The new story was the the most recent murder victim, Cade Jahns, had been mutilated beyond recognition. The rumor around town was that the Lancet Falls PD had to bring on a counselor and offer sessions to the first officers on scene. Needless to say, the powers that be decided a discovery like this needed to be shielded from the citizens lickety split, much to the dismay of your common, everyday story sniffer. Michelle knew a shot of the victim, some juicy details, and the initial story would be enough to catapult her back on top. All the other news organizations knew it too, but they didn't have what Michelle had. An in.
Word on the street was the body resided in Sleepy Days Funeral Home under armed guard to protect the memory of a long standing member of the community. Michelle's digging had unearthed the weakest link, or links to be precise. Their names were Perry Durant and Kevin Moody.
Officer Durant, one of the rotating security guards, always wanted to be a star on the silver screen, but the chronic case of Lupus of his twin sister, Julia, and a mound of hospital bills tethered him to this small town like an anchor around his throat.
Kevin Moody, the town body stylist, as the town had taken to calling him, was on a quest. A quest to reel in a legend, Old Smokey. Old Smokey was a largemouth bass rumored to be a whopping three feet long, and to top it off, it was coated by a dusky coat of scales rather than the customary murky green. The mortician had been chasing after that fish for years, and Michelle knew Old Smokey's weakness, Cheese Puffs.
Rumor had it that Hester Jenkins, the best damn taxidermist in Idaho, had caught Old Smokey and released him.
"This town needs Old Smokey, and I ain't gonna be the one to take im' from em."
The now fabled words of Hester Jenkins travelled between folks on team Jenkins like wildfire, but not a peep crossed over to the side of Team Moody. Claudia Jenkins, head of the PTA, had declared Kendra Moody, the tramp that stole the book club right from under her nose, her mortal enemy, and pity the poor soul that dare tell Moody her husband's secret.
Long story short, word travelled to Claudia that Michelle was interested in writing a story on community organizations and had set her sights on the book club as the focus of her story. Needless to say, that simply wasn't going to work for Claudia, and the woman started schmoozing Michelle from that point onward. The best way to get someone to spill a secret, is to pretend you couldn't care less; Michelle Kim trick of the trade Number One. It was kind of pathetic, by the end, the woman was spilling every secret she could think of all to one up Kendra Moody.
Armed with that knowledge and her trusty sidekick, Michelle staked out Sleepy Days for four hours waiting for Perry's partner to take his ten minute smoke break. Flanked by Ron, Michelle stormed the castle, and nothing short of an Act of God was going to stop her. It seemed their approach piqued some interest in Officer Durant. His sharp, sapphire eyes shook off the disinterest they'd worn for the past four hours. The young man that stood before her was a sharp contrast to the man he'd been, awakening his interest had transformed the man. Perry's straw colored hair now looked like it had been woven with strands of gold. The dull edges of his face sharpened before her eyes into well-defined, angles, almost like he'd been sculpted by the Gods themselves.
It really is a shame he'll never become an actor.
Michelle approached in confident, powerful strides with a straight-backed posture and extended her hand for a handshake. Michelle trick Number Two- If you look, act, and believe you belong somewhere, everyone else will believe it too.
"Michelle Kim."
"I know who you are miss," he said taking her hand, eyes narrowing.
She smiled displaying as many teeth as possible, a way to assert dominance, "Excellent, saves me the time of explaining why I'm here."
Perry returned the smile, "I'll save you more time. You're not seeing that body," sizing her up, he added, "Trust me, I'm doing you a favor."
"You don't know many reporters."
"That a question?"
"Nope, that was a statement of fact, because if you did, you'd know what you just said was catnip to any reporter worth their salt."
"You ever think I did it just to watch you squirm?" He chuckled, "like a cat toy I'm dangling over your head."
"Let's say you are doing that. I know you wouldn't, because you seem like a reasonably intelligent guy considering your surroundings, but, hypothetically, let's just you say you are toying with me. This is how it's gonna go, the smart, savvy reporter won't get to run her story anymore, but her editor still needs something. That would be a problem for our reporter, so she would latch onto the first story that she could think of. 'The Incompetence of The Lancet Falls Police Department', starring the one and only Perry Durant. Has a nice to it. But, like I said, you're a smart guy, so you wouldn't dream doing something like that," she said tossing him a wink.
Durant returned the wink, "I'm smart enough to know you're not dumb enough to commit career suicide."
Michelle felt her eyes widen. She hadn't expected him to be so... confident, or to be so turned on by it. Fire like that was refreshing in a sea of bumpkins.
"I'm not sure what you mean Officer."
"Don't play dumb Ms. Kim. It doesn't suit you. The way I figure it, you must be pretty desperate for scraps if you're scrounging around a funeral home. You showed up in town thinking it would be easy pickings, but you just keep coming up short. The Chronicle's been running secondhand scoops since you got here, and now the boss man is breathing down your neck worth sticking around for. If I was a betting man, I'd say this is your last shot, and a libel case is the last thing you need."
She took a step closer, "Officer Perry, I never said I work for The Chronicle."
Perry's cheeks reddened, most people look like fruit when they blush, but his, they were more like a fire had been stoked inside them. That fire kindled something in her as well, but it wasn't in her cheeks.
"Well, uh, it's my job to know what's going on around here. That includes media vultures like yourself."
"You really do know how to flatter a lady."
"Lady?" He scoffed, "More like a she-wolf."
A wolf? He's right. Snap out of it. Time to go for the kill.
"Let's cut to the chase, not that this hasn't been fun, but there's a story waiting behind that door. It'd be rude to keep it waiting."
He laughed the kind of laugh you never hear in the city. A melodious laugh. A laugh that wasn't meant for schmoozing the next rung on the ladder, or keeping subordinates underneath the heel of management. Perry Durant laughed for himself and not at the expense of others. Michelle didn't know people were capable of that.
"You don't quit do you?" he asked.
"Nope."
"You know I can't let you in there. Don't you?"
"Yep, but I know you will."
His laugh rang out again, "Why is that Ms. Kim?"
"Because, there will be a story, and you will play a pivotal role. Face in front of the camera with a call to action 'People of Lancet Falls, we cannot let an injustice like this stand! yada, yada, yada.' Yours is a face that demands to be seen and your voice longs to be heard. I can make that happen."
Furrowing his brow, "What makes you think I'd fall for something like that?"
"I know you've wanted to be an actor ever since you knew the word. I'm not saying this is your ticket to paradise, but it helps you, helps me, and helps the town. It may be a trick, but it's one that benefits everyone," Michelle dropped the and adopted a pouty look, lips pursed and eyelids batting.
"You looked me up too." That smile
"Comes with the job."
"I'm glad lil ol' me merited stalking from THE Michelle Kim."
"Officer Durant, let's finish this conversation elsewhere, when I'm not on a deadline," Michelle said handing him her card, "Now, back to business, are you going to let me in or am I going to have to resort to less pleasant methods?"
Perry paused, mulling it over, "Don't make me regret this," he said opening the door, "Oh, you don't have to worry about Moody. The body was too much for him. They're calling in a professional from Boise. Don't take too long down there, he should be here anytime now. Body's in the basement."
That was all Michelle needed, and she plunged into the funeral home. Perry's voice sounded behind her, "You sure don't say much do you cameraman?"
"I've learned it's best to let Michelle do her thing. Getting in her way is like standing in front of a hungry lion, and its antelope carcass." That man watches too much Animal Planet.
Michelle waited for Ron to catch up. Sleepy Days Funeral Home gave her the creeps. Dead bodies and Michelle Kim didn't mix well. Laying souls to rest since she was twelve years old had given her fill of dead bodies for the next couple of lifetimes.
Michelle couldn't help but notice how different the two of them were. In a lot of ways, Ron was her polar opposite. Michelle was the human personification of hustle and high blood pressure, and Ron took things as they came, happy to be in the moment wherever he found himself. She watched the tall, beanpole of a man, saunter down the hallway in his white button up shirt, and X-Files "The Truth is Out There" clip-on tie. He looked at Michelle with a knowing smile.
Running hands through his shoulder-length, beach bum hair, he said, "Meesh, I thought the two of you were going to go at it right then and there. At least have the common decency to get a hotel room, the next time you mentally undress each other.
"That was just... icky."
"Ha. Ha. You're hilarious."
"That's what my mommy always tells me."
"Your mommy needs to stop playing with lead based paint."
He shrugged, "You ready to check out a body so skeevy a guy who does this for a living couldn't take it? "
"She who hesitates is lost," Michelle replied.
The two found door to the basement with relative ease. A palpable chill seemed to emanate from a metal door at the end of the hallway. The words, "Abandon all hope ye who enter here," flitted through her mind. The words that ushered Dante into the Inferno.
Michelle opened the door and was affronted with a blast of frigid air, an almost preternatural chill. Her mind knew the purpose cooler temperature was to delay the decomposition process, but that didn't stop her from feeling like they approaching something so evil, so twisted, that it sucked the warmth from the air itself. I REALLY hate dead bodies.
Ron's gangly presence behind her cooled her nerves a bit, an anchor to the real world; the world of the living.
Their descent into the depths passed by without incident. Ron's hand stood poised over the basement's light switch, and he looked at Michelle for assent. She nodded. The room flooded with artificial light. Light devoid of warmth of any kind.. Michelle didn't know what she had expected, but what she had found was just another mundane hallway like the one upstairs, but the grey carpet had been replaced with grey linoleum.
Although the chill had intensified, Michelle felt more grounded. She hated dead bodies, but they weren't new to her. They weren't going to hop off the table and grab her. Michelle Kim could handle anything, and she would show them all, climbing the ranks of the boys club that still dominated modern journalism.
Michelle straightened and regained her confident posture. Michelle Trick Number 3 - Fake it till you make it. She stood in front of the double doors, and kicked them inwards. Dead body be damned. The sight of the mutilated mass of human flesh made her stumble backwards through the doors. Michelle hadn't thought of her mother in years, but now she wanted nothing more than for her to be there. If ever a soul needed to be put to rest, it was that of Cade Jahns. As a mudang, her mother had the power to usher a soul into "the good place." She'd perform the death rite, Jinogwigut. Ji-yeon Kim would enter the room dressed in the elegant robes of Bari Gongju, the Abandoned Princess, and escort this poor man, or what was left of him, through the "gate of thorns" into the other world where he could finally rest.
Although Michelle had been initiated as a mudang at the age of twelve, she never believed in the rituals and rites. She dismissed them, thinking it was cute her mother had carried her archaic traditions from Seoul.
Now, it didn't feel cute.
"Holy mother of God," Ron murmured.
Michelle knew bad things happened every single day, and that sick, twisted individuals roamed free, indistinguishable from any other person, seeing it for herself, Michelle couldn't fathom how a person could do something like this.
What had once been Cade Jahns, a living, breathing person, looked like a grisly doll more than anything else. His body had been split into distinct segments: torso, arms, legs, and head. In true crime stories, bodies like this are described as being treated with precision and care, but this was not that case. Cade's limbs had been ripped off, uneven jags of flesh protruded at odd angles, framing porous knobs of bone. Michelle couldn't conceptualize the amount of strength it would take to rip a man's limbs from his body. The killer would have to have been superhuman.
In stark contrast to the savagery that had dismembered the man, the killer had cobbled the body back together with the exactitude of a surgeon; their tool of choice, lengths of barbed wire. At the bases of the wrists and ankles, barbed wire had been inserted and snaked through the appendages until they emerged on the opposite side. Barbed wire mingled with blood vessels and nerves becoming another body network, but this one only served one purpose. The whole system was held together by wire that had been wrapped around and embedded in dull, rust colored bones.
At each major joint, the wiring connected the torso to the disparate segments of Cade. All four strands of wire surfaced again at the neck joining the head with the rest of his body. His mouth gaped open, frozen in a perpetual scream. Wire hung a few inches outside of the mouth, limp like a parasite that had been pulled out of its host and left to die. Cade Jahns, a man that once had dreams and aspirations, a mother and a father, maybe even a family of his own, had been reduced to a marionette of bone, flesh, and wire. The killer left his creation hanging from a lamppost, on display for all to bear witness to his handiwork.
Michelle tore her eyes away from the body and looked at her partner. He stood transfixed by the sight; mouth moving up and down with no words forming. She gathered herself together and nudged Ron's arm.
"At least we have our story."
"Understatement of the year Meesh, understatement of the year."
It's SaintCole once again!
This is the LAST POV character, I promise. This character was another one of the characters I originally conceived from the very beginning. I thought it would be interesting to add an outsider's perspective that isn't from Lancet Falls.
Imagine me dressed as a mall Santa asking for charity, but this one only costs you one click.
Tell me your thoughts about this one! Did the body gross you guys out? Where do you think Michelle's story is going at this point? Any specific things you liked or disliked?