The case of the glowing serpent (RP)

Angela Smegley ruffles through her father’s belongings with tears in her eyes. She is looking for the box containing the original case that drove him to his untimely grave. The man spent hours upon hours searching clues and digging up nothing to help in his endeavor. The more he found nothing the more he was driven to search.

But alas this tale does not start here…it starts in 1960. A murder in a back alley street, a man’s corpse was found or so they think it was a man. It was left behind with a look of horror upon his face. The body was completely void of any identification. It was like someone was playing a joke on the police force, because the body looked like a mummy from Egypt. Dried out and barely hanging together. Pictures were taken and people who found the body were interviewed. The police did what they could to keep it hush hush to prevent mass terror or the complication of public knowledge.

The police chief placed homicide detective Michael Smegley. A rising star among the force, he solved several serial killer cases and made quick work of it. It made him a prime candidate for this odd case and best man to take it. Smegley did what he could to get as much information as he could from every bystander that found the body. An old woman was the first to see it. Her dog ran into the alley only for her to find the horrifying corpse.

At this scene was found a bloody rose lying on the chest of the corpse. The blood was old and stained onto the white rose. Inside the corpse’s clutched hand was a note. The coroner had to take his time in removing the note from the brittle hand. The note read, “I am sorry….” The y in the sorry was evidentially scratched in. Whoever the killer was did not allow the man time to write the note. It brought up many questions in Smegley’s mind. To what end was the man sorry for and why.

The coroner had no idea of time of death or how it was done. No stab wounds, no bullets, nothing gave any sign of how he died. The clothes worn by the corpse were a casual business suite worn by several men of that time.

Approximately a month later another man was found in the same state in an old warehouse used for the auction lot. No identification and completely dried out. Smegley once again came to the scene to find the same situation. A bloody whit rose laying near the corpse. Not on the chest like the other one. This corpse look even more terrified than the other. The mouth locked into what appeared to be a scream. This man however was dressed in casual work clothes. Like a full body suite like a mechanic would wear.

Pieces of the case were not fitting together except the corpse’s state and the bloody white rose. Smegley tried to find out if there were any missing mechanics in the area, but found nothing. No missing person’s report or anything that could lead the case to a definite solution.

Smegley became like a tenacious bull dog. Going where ever he needed and talking to some of the lowest criminals, but none would talk. The police chief was riding him to solve this case as a hoax or a real case that needed to be solved. Smegley had a feeling it was far from a hoax and kept searching for something. He checked around at local garden shops to learn more about the rose. A woman by the name of Samantha Hartley gave him some answer to the rose. It was an honor white rose and white roses were symbolic for apologizing. Smegley asked her where to find them and unfortunately they could be found at any gardening store.

From this doomed case grew a relationship that grew between Samantha and Michael. They married, but their honeymoon was not blissful. The police chief deemed the case a hoax and claimed it closed. Smegley did not want to hear that. He stole all the case files to prevent them from burning. Samantha watched as her husband began to bury himself further and further into the case while she became more and more pregnant.

Smegley continued to work on cases at work, but the case of the odd corpses claimed his home life. Samantha was a loving wife and who remained by her man’s side. Years went by with no break in the case. Their child was now 11 years old. Angela now was witness to her father’s obsession.

Just when things looked bleak another body was found. This time it was in a fancy hotel four hours away. The corpse was clutching a bloody white rose in his hand like he was squeezing it for dear life. His wallet sat on the desk with several dollar bills inside. A gold watch still wrapped around his dried out wrist and a wedding band on the floor. Smegley looked over the scene like a surgeon operating. Scanning every detail and he found something he thought was crucial to the case.

On the desk across the room was two wine glasses. One had red lip stick on the rim. This man was not alone, but all of his identification was gone. The police chief tossed the case out after several days since no one came to claim a missing person. Smegley had hoped someone would step forward to claim someone who was wealthy. The golden watch on his wrist was indeed a wealthy man’s gift.

Once again nothing came up and the case was once again closed. Smegley grabbed up all of the pictures and any evidence he could. Anything left behind was burned just like the other murders were done. Smegley had several note books loaded with notes.

Years went by and Angela had grown up to have a family of her own. In his last days of life he kept mentioning seeing a glowing serpent over and over. Samantha had died long before her husband did and Angela was left to take care of what other’s called a crazy father. In his last moments of breath he begged his daughter to find someone to solve the case. He knew they were linked somehow and someone had to have done it.

Now Angela finds herself outside the office of a well-known detective with the only box her father said to take with her. Inside were the original files from the case made from the 1960’s. Coroner’s notes and pictures included. The roses and the bodies were long gone. All that remained was Smegley’s beginning notes and the files inside the boxes he kept.

Angela wiped away tears with a napkin as she entered the office building. It was up to the detective inside to help her now.

Mr.Name played a calm melody with his violin by the window as he watched the storm clouds float above London, they provided a dark overtone from what his eyes could see. His eyes shifted about on the street below as he watched the normal people do their daily routine, and of course with watching his mind calculated and deduced who these people are, like a epiphany the answers came to his head.  
 
Women on corner of the street, clothing would indicate a formal lunch date, purse clamped shut, head shifting about, clearly been mugged in the past for the way she clutches to it. Man exiting cab, holding piece of paper gently with scribbles on it, every glance permits a smile to his face, a women's number but not single, golden ring on left hand, married, adulterer... Ugh Normal people, how can you stand the bore that you call your lives? Your desk jobs and your relationships... I almost pity you, almost... 
  
Name turns away from the window for his craving of nicotine kicked in again, pulling a cigarette from the skulls eye socket on his table he lit it. As he took a drag he felt as if it wasn't helping his stronger craving for a challenging case, he became manic without one to indulge on. Like a tumor it gave him a headache he felt as if he had no other purpose in life. But as if a prayer was answered a smaller lady stepped into the office, Name raised his brow with intrigue right as she stepped in and like a moth to a flame he started his deduction. 
 
Napkin, orange stain and crumpled, just had lunch but was rushed for some reason, upper half of it has what seem to be tears. Possible case is personal, a loss or traumatic experience. The box, reads as "L.A police department, 1960. dust on lid, been hidden away for years. Water damage on corner of box, if kept in the hands of the police it would never come across damage such as that so it was left in the hands of a home owner that hidden away like a father, couldn't be a mother, no female detectives during that time. Father was a detective and this was a lingering personal case. Lady comes to me with this case to perhaps solve it or maybe just evaluate it, why else would she be here? After his five second deduction he decided to finally speak. 
 
Hello miss, I presume you are here for a case pertaining to that box? I will give you a moment for your lunch to properly digest, take a seat and a breath. Name puts his cigarette on the ashtray and takes a seat himself and waits for the lady to speak.

The mourning woman tried to compose herself as she sat down in Mr. Name’s office. She nodded to his question of having a case. Holding onto the box containing the files like she were trying to protect them. She toke a deep breath as she begins to explain the case in her hands.

“I have a case for you…it…well…my father Detective Smegley asked me to bring it the best detective I could find. I was told to come here. This case is my father’s last wish.” She began to tear up again thinking about his recent passing. After a moment she calmed down. “He worked on this most his career and life. Even at home in L.A. I am asking you if I could hire you or find a way to get the case solved for him.”

Angela’s eyes began to well up once again. Her father died only a day ago, but she has yet to get over it. Fiddling with the napkin in a nervous tick she had.

Angela looked at Mr. Name like he was her only salvation in that moment. She could have gone to several detectives and quite a few in L.A., but they mocked her father for the things he said before he died about the glowing serpents. Smegley in his retirement often returned to the precinct to see if any other dried up corpses showed up. Angela would always get upset after the call asking to pick him up and take him home.

Somehow she believed in her father. Someone had to have killed those men, but how and why were still questions that were left unanswered. She prayed often to have her father find that one clue to solve the case, so he could live a happy life.

After a moment of calming herself once again the case file box was opened. The first victim’s file was pulled from the box. Angela with a shaky hand slides it over to him.

“Take a look and if you like to see moreI have more files at home of his old notes and his contacts.” She took a deep breath. “…but….nothing …came from them.” Angela held the box hugging it close to her. “He died…yesterday. The funeral is tomorrow. Can you help me by taking this case?”

Now it was up to Mr. Name to accept or decline.

As the lady spoke Name went from bored to intrigued, he slowly lifted a photograph of one of the bodies and his eyes flared. Fascinating, corpses that are mummified ON the scene of the crime, no amateur could have done this noooo. The real question is how did he do it? I don't recall a chemical agent in the sixties that could do this in such a short time.... This case cant be ignored, I must know how it was done, what is this babble of putting her father to rest? Do she actually think there is a life beyond this one? Heh... Foolish girl. 
  
Mr.Name continued to shuffle through the case file as he grabbed his lit cigarette and took a drag. This is something else I assure you of that... It's almost like artwork, the idea of it I mean. How someone can be dark enough to mummify a person. Name realized he was getting carried away a tad so he hushed himself with another drag. This will indeed be an interesting case, I don't see any other choice... Name grounded his cigarette into the ashtray then smirked. I will take you case, and do not worry about the pay, I don't want any... I take this case with pleasure. Inner coat exposed, stitching reads "Angela". Angela, worry no longer about this case for it will be solved I assure you, Name scribbles down his cell number and hands it to her. Only text this number, I hate calls. Also I will need your number in case I have any questions. 
 
Name just wanted the lay to leave so he could start on the case, he knew this one was going to be difficult and every time he did think about it he smirked.

Artwork?, she thought. Nothing about this case was artwork for her. It was a symbol of torment to her father and it affected her as well. A smile crossed her face as Mr. Name said he would take the case. She came to get the case solved and have her father's soul rest. She took out a piece of paper and jotted down her cell number for work and personal along with her current address where the rest of the files now resided. "You can reach me on this or my work cell. I work as a parole officer for teen's in L.A. and texting is easier for me as well. I included my address ,so you can see the rest of the files." The paper was handed over to Mr. Name. Angela pulled out her personal phone saving Mr. Name's number into the contacts.

"I must get back to my job and let you do yours. I cannot thank you enough for this." Angela stood up placing the box onto the floor. Her remorse was almost washed away by relief. She too wanted to know who or what did that to those men. "These are the only files that exist ,so do be careful. I only ask that you let me know who or what did this. Please...for my own sake."

Little did the two during their conversation realize a white ghostly dragon like creature sat coiled up listening to every word that transpired. As Angela left the coiled up creature faded through the wall leaving no trace of its' existence. It followed Angela closely, but not enough to be noticed by those around. It moved through the air like a floating ribbon. Swaying and moving with ease through the air. It's large pale faded eyes had a hue of blue to them, but everything else was a ghostly smoke state. The creature had no back legs. Only two front legs that were short that forked into two finger like claws that moved independently.

They were referred to as Soul Collectors. A supernatural entity that only answered to one Mistress, but there was no record or written document to find who the mistress was or what the creatures were. Soul Collectors kept tabs on certain things or people and then reported back to their only master. Their only purpose was to collect knowledge and a soul if it were taken too soon to be brought back to the one who controlled them. Very single minded creatures that were not easily killed unless magic was used to destroy the,. Swords and weapons just phased through their ghost-like bodies.

This particular Soul Collector was tailing Angela and where she went. It listened closely to every word taking it to memory. This case had a far deeper solution than most would want to traverse. Mr. Name had taken a case that will lead him further and use all his talents to survive.

Name remained still for a few seconds after she left, he had alot of work to do but before he decided to leave for the united states he thought he should do some ground work. Mr.Name took the box and slammed it down on the table and with excitement grabbed all of the images from the files and laid them out on the table. First there is body number one... one... In names mind his surrounding crumble away into the crime scene from what the photos show. Name strolled down the ally way to see the body laying there, he loomed over it. 6'4, male. the weather that day was gloomy, a harsh cold wind for a spring evening overtook the skies says the witness... Whether... Names mental crime scene crumbles back into his flat, he then rushes over to the two other cases for the interviews and the same thing. Cold whether, some even report snowing right around that specific area... "Snow" Name takes mental note and decides he cant go further on with the investigation in London, he would need to vacate to L.A, Tonight! 
 

L.A, the following day.

Angela gathered up the boxes from her father’s office and loaded them into her compact car. She sighed as she looked at the five fully packed boxes of notes and pictures. The notes contained contacts, locations, and several scribbles of the snake her father supposedly saw in her final days of life. Closing the trunk and then sitting in the front seat as she reflected on the past. Angela snapped too when a tap on her window startled her. It was her neighbor who was concerned about her sitting in the car for so long. Angela reassured them she was alright and then sent a text to Mr. Name asking him to meet her at a local café about five miles from the first murder.

It was time to face old demons and actually see where it all began. The whole case weighed heavily on her heart and caused so much grief in her life. Especially for her father who was tormented by it. The only case he never solved. Angela turned the key cranking up her car. She took the wheel in hand and drove toward the café.

The café was less than busy, but in fact was void of customers this day. Not unusual for the café since it served coffee and pastries more suited to the morning crowd. Angela took a look at her watch as she looked around the street. The waiter came to her table and she ordered a small drink to pass the time. After a few minutes of waiting her stomach began to rumble and groan. She realized she did not eat much of anything since the meeting with Mr. Name. Angela waved down the waiter to order a more sustainable solution to her hunger.

Time went by and Angela wondered if Mr. Name would ever show. She took out her phone and began to look through her recent texts from friends. As she was looking she saw a picture of her father one of the nursing home staff sent her. Something caught her eye, but just as she began to study it further the waiter tripped near her spilling coffee all over her and the phone. The phone blanked out as the waiter apologized over and over again. He promised to pay to replace the phone saying he has never dropped coffee on anyone in the last three years of working at the café. Angela appreciated the sentiment, but denied his financial help to replace her phone.

Angela sighed as she said, “Well I guess I can upgrade this old thing now!”

She then commenced to wiping off the coffee as best as she can. She decided to wait another twenty minutes and then leave. Angela ate her pastry as she continued to wait.

Boredom was beginning to claim Angela’s mind as she sat for so long waiting for Name. Her mind went off into a day dream of the memories of the past. Just as she walked down memory lane the waiter snapped her out of it by asking if she needed anything else. She peered down at her watch to look up to see Mr. Name walking up to her. She gave a friendly greeting as he asked what she needed.

“I brought the case notes from my father. I also brought his sketch book to show you something odd. They are in my car right now, but first. I would also like to show you the first crime scene. Even to this day people say it is a cold area even in dead summer heat.” She stood up and motioned him to follow her just down the street to an alley way.

The alley way was filthy and littered with debris. Two very large metal trash cans sat at each side of the alley. Both were rusted and smelled horribly. A Chinese restaurant dumped the remains of their food in the bin attracting vermin to make a home there. Angela was squeamish around the rodents, but kept her mind on things at hand to ignore them. A few rats ran to get out of sight as she entered the alley. Angela thought a moment and looked for the marker that was in the pictures of long ago.

It was a blob of black paint splatter just above the body that let Angela know exactly where the crusty body was. The alley was warm except for the direct area linked to the man’s death. This area had dropped several degrees compared to the warm 80 degrees around it. It gave most people chills in this very spot. Angela motioned Mr. Name top come closer.

“This is the exact spot they found the dried up corpse. Unfortunately I can lead you to the other two. The hotel from the third murder was destroyed in a fire ten years back and the second murder was in a warehouse, but I am not sure which one. There are too many to try to figure out which. Most companies have several warehouses under one address. In the case files is the address and I can take you there. This is the only murder I can say for sure is the place to start.”

Angela stood back allowing Mr. Name to get a closer look. “As for the files I have they are in my car.” Angela looked at her watch,” Speaking of work I have to go report in to meet with some of my misguided teens. Do you need the files sooner than when I get off work? I get off work at 7:30pm today. I can have my associate drop them off wherever you are staying in an hour or so if you need them sooner, or I can drop them off later after work. Unfortunately I do not have time to drop them off now.”

Angela’s work phone lit up with a text message. She looked at her phone and groaned. “Text me and let me know. I have got to get going. Another theft attempt by one of mine.”

Angela was good at her job being a parole officer for teens in trouble. She had them report in for community work and to keep tabs on them as appointed by the court offices. The only bad thing was she was on alert at all times while on duty. Angela had a few teens that were less than cooperative to change their criminal ways. She gave them access to help and counseling paid for by the state, but few would change. It was an exhausting job, but she refused to become a detective. She became a parole officer to avoid the same job that drove her old man into insanity.

With a spin of the heels, Angela ran to her car to get to the troubled teen and help them out somehow. She was not trying to be rude, but Mr. Name did leave her awhile waiting. Not his fault it was not arranged for them to meet in the first place. Angela started her car and drove off as quickly as the speed limit would allow leaving Mr. Name to his thoughts at the crime scene from long ago.