Role Play Board: Crime sqaure....

Crime sqaure....

Posted by Benjamin Benedetti on 3/17/2009, 6:23 pm
71.74.252.163

Growing up with what would seem to be a suicide go to life, Cal McDonald, has struggled to organize life and crime to keep his sanity. His stint as a police officer was halted with his excessive use of illegal drugs. Within his struggle, he has made company with ghouls to help him solve cases. His graphic portrayal of life is that of a madman trapped in the center of Manhattan .

Armed with his “friends” (ghouls and cocaine) Cal will need to step up his ability to think straight, and make the right decision. Will he let the drug use and paranormal activity rule his life?

“Dark for fear of failure, an inner gloom as wide as an eye and fermenting roiling hate death grip in my veins unveiling rancid petals flowering forth foul nectar the space between a blink and a tear death blooms…”

The piercing sound of the alarm clock is tearing through the eardrum of Cal as he struggles to wake. The night was filled with dreams so intense and horrific; Satan himself would toss and turn. Cal breathes a shallow lifeless breath; his smell is of burnt hair and sinew. As Cal opens his eyes, he glares at the nightstand. Compiled with pill bottles, a heap of change, a left over slice of pizza, and an empty bottle of Jim Beam.. “What the hell happened to me?”

As Cal struggles to gain consciousness, he tries to remember his dreams, with no luck.. He staggers down the hall and into the bathroom. “This day is going to be another blessed encounter I’m sure.” As Cal creeks his broken, aching body into the shower. The steam from the hot water surged to the black, mildew filled ceiling. Cal turns to shut off the leaky valve, just as he catches a view of his cold, scar ridden face in his partially broken mirror hanging in the shower. The radio station is fading with the most annoying static, but can easily be made out to be James Blunt’s “You’re beautiful.” “F*ck that.” Cal shouts, as he opens the shower door and smashes the radio with a swift fist. “I need a god damn vacation.” Cal finishes his shower and starts to change into his suit. Just then the phone rings.

“Yeah” Cal says.

“ Cal ? Detective Davis .”

Cal sighs. “Go on.”

Alias Davis was a scrawny, tall, and weak looking white man from the southern Bronx , but everybody knew not to mess with him. After his 3rd tour in Iraq with the Marines Davis landed a detective spot with the NYPD. Though he mostly worked narcotic stings, and only a few homicides, Davis was assigned to this case from his Sgt. Probably because of Davis ’ knowledge of paranormal science.

“ Cal we need your help. There has been a string of murders at St. Anthony’s Catholic school on 15th street .”

There was a short pause that felt like an eternity. Visions of lifeless bodies slammed through Cal ’s memory. Then, just as he began to open his mouth, he embraced. The little girl from 1989 flashed through his head.

“Ugh…Ca... Cal ?” “You ok man?” Davis ' voice went from the usual aggressive to a much more passive.

“Yeah I’m fine.” Cal struggled to stay involved. “I just need to clear my head.” Cal lit up the last spliff from his pack of Marlboro Smoothes. ‘I just didn’t want to get involved with this Sh!t anymore Alias.”

Cal spoke in a very monotone voice. “Ok let’s go.” On the way down to the store Cal could only imagine the graphic pictured being painted by Davis ’ description of the school.

“There are fu@$in’ bodies everybody Cal, just like ’89.” ‘Problem is with this one, we’ve found no physical evidence..”

“Jesus Christ!” Cal chimed in. ‘Ya know, this isn’t CSI!” “You hardly ever find physical evidence at the fuc%in’ scene.” Alias just stared into Cal ’s face.

“I know this will be tough for you Cal.” “but try to hold yourself together, just try.”

Cal just closed his eyes sat back in his seat and pulled two Xanax pills from his pocket.

“I’ve got something to take care of that.’ Cal smiled and popped the two pills into this mouth with a quick shot from his flask he’d rinse them down.

When they arrived at the schoolhouse it was clear to Cal that this was going to be a very messy scene. 15th Avenue wasn’t exactly the best neighborhood in New York , it wasn’t exactly the worst either.

“Smells like sh!t out here.” Cal exclaimed.

“Wait till we get inside, Alias shot right back, almost as if he expected it.

They entered the structure through the North doors. Immediately to the left and right bodies were disemboweled and they eyes cut out.

“Christ.” Cal knew somehow the terror from ’89 was back.

Lockers packed both sides of the long, dark, and dreary hallway.

“You’ll never see the truth.” Was painted on them in blood.

11 kids, 4 teachers, and a secretary were all murdered, eyes cut out, and bodies slashed. Cal walked out the side door, lighting a cigarette.

“Hope you didn’t have any plans for dinner Alias.”

“Why’s that?” He answered back nervously.

“Because it’s gonna be a long fu@king night...”

TBC