Embrace

In the soft glow by the fireside, cascades of shadow danced majestically over her supple golden skin. With the seamless movement of feline grace her guiding hand glided the plate between us and we shared the last bites of the rich chocolate cake looking each other over in reminiscent awe. As our eyes met in a beckoning gaze, our lips received each other's and we celebrated my birthday one last time in each other's embrace.

The sharp ringing of the telephone jarred me awake and harshly ushered in the new day. Pulling myself to a perch on the edge of the bed I grabbed the whiskey bottle, now a permanent accessory to my nightstand, and generously poured the elixir into the desert of my mouth satiating the painful thirst. As the comforting burn slithered down and nestled in my stomach, the memories of the night from so long ago retreated, surely to reappear and torment me the following night as they did countless eves before. Retrieving two amphetamine pills from a small tin, originally used for mints, I threw them to the back of my throat and gulped them down with another generous pull of whiskey. The shrill wail of the telephone begged reprieve from the confines of it's cradle and midst lighting a cigarette I answered the shrieking siren, much to my discomfort.

"Hammond Investigations" I croaked into the mouth-piece.

"John, rough night?" The caller, Captain Marks, asked in a more rhetorical than sincere fashion.

"Aren't they all." I replied, indifferently.

"Chasing leads all the way down to the bottom of the bottle, I see." The captain bellowed with a hearty laugh.

"I'm a busy man, Sean, is there a reason you called other than to irritate me."

"What I can't check up on one of my old detectives? I care about you and we all miss you down here."

"You know I'd almost believe you if it wasn't for the lacking of sincerity in your voice. " I snipped in retort. The bastard always knew how to annoy me in the right way.

"It's been over ten years John, don't you think It's time to move on? Alice's death was not your fault."

"I have a case to work on, goodbye Captain."

"I have a lead."

"What?!"

"Meet me at 2 pm at Lazlos. We can discuss it there."

The light jingle of the bell in the doorway announced my arrival at the once frequented diner. It was our favourite spot to eat back in the day, before Sean had been promoted to captain and before I had quit the force. Here my former partner and I would pour countless hours, and cups of coffee, over tediously examining every vagarie in the cases we worked. Taking in the lazy atmosphere once again, I looked around the place and spotted Sean in a corner booth. Noticing my entrance he stood, holding his arms half-way out in an open and embracing posture.

"John it is so good to see you." Sean said with genuine concern in his voice."You've grown a beard I see, it looks good."

"It's hard to find time to shave when doing surveillance on cheating spouses. What's this lead you said you had Sean?"

"Ive always admired your forwardness but can't you entertain an old friend with some small talk before prying them for information?"

"My patience isn't what it used to be. But, for what it's worth, it is good see you old friend. Now please, tell me about this lead." I said with a soft determination.

"Okay, okay, let's start at the beginning and review the case before I present this to you. Make sure we have all of our ducks in a row."

Becoming agitated I said in an increasingly sharp tone, "I'd rather not relive the details of my wife's murder. We were both there, we both worked the case."

"Humour me John. It was 1985, the Farm Aid concert in Champaign..."

"Yes, yes, the Farm Aid concert. We were working that domestic violence case and Alice ended up going alone to the damned thing. It wrapped up around 11pm and her body was found in one of the university science labs around midnight by a janitor. First responders arrived on scene twenty minutes later and once I was notified we arrived on scene around 1am."

"I remember..." He said with a terrible grimace.

"Then I'm sure you remember that gruesome display: her unclothed body all hacked to pieces, the strange symbols drawn in her blood decorating the walls..." I trailed off as the weight of the memory overtook me and I began to tremble. Tearing my flask free from my overcoat's inner pocket I drained the remainder with an audible gasp.

He carried on, " The officers on the scene said that witness testimony claimed two adult males had fled around the same time -"

" They claimed it was a mugging gone wrong and staged to look like some satanic ritual and we both know that is utter bullshit!" I loudly interjected.

"It was the height of the Satanic Panic John. Police all over the country had cases like these piling up all over their desks."

"They closed the book on her Sean. She was just another potential cold case and they were only concerned about their solve rate." Growling as I said this while lighting a cigarette, the grey-blue smoke curling around my mustache as I exhaled.

"Everyone was cleared who was interviewed and we were left chasing two ghosts." Sean said lighting his own cigarette and taking a sip of his coffee, the steam framing his eyes only hardened his gaze. Smacking his lips he continued, "I know you have chased down every potential lead over the past decade and have come up short. Hence why I called you as soon as I noticed something a little odd pass my desk."

Saying this he produced a file from his briefcase and slapped it onto the diner table between us. I quickly grabbed it and started fervently skimming the details.

"These are the names of the witnesses who saw the two 'muggers' flee."

"Exactly. You'll see that all five of them won the same lottery drawing a week later and were the only five winners."

"I see that they're all dead now. Why waste my time with this?"

"They all just started dying over the past month or so, the first death being on the exact day of the ten year anniversary of Alice's death, all from heart attacks with no known medical history."

"So a group of college kids that won the lottery a decade ago partied too hard with their millions and all died from heart attacks. How does this help me now?"

"Look at the last name, Holden Campbell, he's still alive. Actually, he lives not even thirty minutes from here. The timeline just seems odd, concerning the deaths and how close they are together."

"You think someone is killing them?" I asked.

"I don't know what to think. It all seems very peculiar and once I recognised the names I knew I had to bring it to you, after I did a little digging of course. I can't risk my reputation as a captain working a decade old closed case that isn't even in my jurisdiction to begin with. But I knew that wouldn't stop you.  If there's a connection there I know you'll find it."

"Thank you, Sean. This is the most solid lead I've had in years. I'm going to go visit him right now."

"Just don't do anything stupid, John. I'm giving you this info as a favour because we're friends. Don't make me regret it."

"We're just going to talk, Sean, that's it."

"That better be all you do." He called after me as I rushed out of the diner and into the chilled October afternoon.

After stopping for a bottle of whiskey to refill my flask, my renewed sense of hope quickly propelled me through the afternoon traffic. Arriving at a modest ranch house in a fairly well-to-do neighbourhood I parked my car and pulled hard from the whiskey bottle, flicking my cigarette as I stepped from my car into a patch of sunlight.

I approached the front door and knocked with solid determination. After a few minutes of clattering, coughing, and other sounds emanating from within the house, the door finally creaked open. A sallow looking man appeared, sloppily dressed and smelling of marijuana.

"H-hi, how can I help you? Do I know you?" He croaked, sounding as if he was just awoken from deep sleep.

"My name is detective John Hammond. Are you Holden Campbell?"

"Y-yes, yes, I am, is there a problem officer? If it was the music last night, j-just tell my neighbour we'll keep it down."

"I just have a few routine questions for you sir,  do you mind if I come inside?" I said this as I grabbed the door pulling it open wider and stepping forward.

"Y-yeah, yes, I guess so" he stammered in what seems to be his usual speech pattern.

The inside was dimly lit with curtains drawn, a bong and other paraphernalia adorned the coffee table. He shambled lazily over to the couch and plopped down with a huff while I remained standing.

"So what is this about detective?" He said in a strained tone as he hurriedly attempted to conceal the smoking apparatus.

"Well, as you know, yourself and four others had won the Illinois State Lottery back in '85."

"Yeah..." He said, breathy and exasperated.

"I mean no cause for alarm, but it seems the other four have passed away from seemingly normal means. All tox screens came back negative, and no foul play is suspected,  but we just want to ensure the safety of our citizens. Mr. Campbell, do you have any enemies or seen any strange activity lately?"

"T-they're d-dead? All the others?" He said breathing heavily from surprise and assumed panic.

"When was the last time you had been in contact with the other winners Mr. Campbell?"

"I-it's  H-Her. S-She's come for us.  I knew this would happen... I-I-I fucking knew it!"

"Who Mr. Campbell? Who is "Her" and what did you know?" I asked excitedly and impatiently.

"H-Her!.....Babalon!" He babbled, pointing at an odd little stone statue of a winged woman sitting on the coffee table. "W-we never should have done that ritual! I-it was supposed to j-just be stupid f-fun! Now we're all d-dying, and the dreams, the d-dreams are hell!"

"Holden, I need you to slow down. What are you talking about. What ritual? Were you close with the other winners, were they friends of yours?"

"Th-the c-college, we did something s-stupid back then... I-it was supposed to just be a little bit of blood, b-but Jessica just went crazy and s-started s-slicing and c-ch-chopping...oh god!"

He trailed into incoherent rambling and pitiful sobbing. Anger and disbelief rose within me as the implications of his words began to settle. Soon all composure poured from me and pure rage enveloped my being. I lept over the small coffee table onto the frail, tearful, heap that was now Holden Campbell, and began beating him mercilessly.

"You killed my wife you piece of shit! How could you, how could you kill an innocent, sweet, woman like that?! For what?!" I roared each word landing blows on his head and chest all the while tears pouring from my face raining down on his increasingly bloodied visage. Standing I began kicking his entangled form, each thrust of my shoe emitting tearful chokes from the wretch, screaming with each swing of my leg, "Why you bastard?! Why?!"

"M-money." He weakly bleated.

"MONEY?!" I howled emanating ten years of built up rage. Dragging him by his shoulders to a standing position and slamming him into the wall where he, once more, crumbled to the ground weeping and wailing. Without thinking, I gripped the bong that was poorly concealed on the floor next to the table and smashed it over his head all the while shouting insults and expletives. With a crash, foul smelling water poured over him as he wimpered one final time before I took the remaining glass cylinder in my hand and thrust it firmly into his neck with a twisting motion causing blood to rush forth and soak myself and everything in close vicinity.

Just then the little statue of the naked winged woman began to glow a soft crimson accompanied by a purely angelic voice of unparalleled beauty," Welcome to my embrace."