Darkly Dreaming: Blood and New Feelings

by Connor Shadows

Chapter 3: Let’s take a look

Blood and New Feelings

Chapter 3: Let’s take a look.

“Masuka quiet, I’m trying to concentrate here.” Dexter was trying to get samples from one of the smaller blood blots on the murder victim’s body, not sure if was his or the killer’s. Masuka had finished his work while Dexter was talking to Patches, so Masuka decided he would pester Dexter till he was done or he got smacked. Whichever came first.

“I’m just saying man if the killer wanted a head he should a gotten a mare’s. It would make more sense. I mean who would want head from a guy.” The small scientist laughed with that deep throated, perverted sounding chuckle.

Man why is his laugh so creepy?

Dexter deposited the small drop onto a blood slide and pressed the two halves together. The little dot expanded out to almost the edges of the slide, “Almost got too much.” Dexter put it in an evidence bag and handed it to Masuka.

Sample time was over.

Dexter Stood and was about to start his analysis on what events lead to where the limp form now rested but then Masuka thought he needed to keep on with his jokes.

“Maybe the Killers gay,” Masuka purposed. “, that would explain it.”

Dexter looked up from the body with a slight smirk, “Masuka, quit the pervert stuff for a little while this guy just died ,and your using him as a joke prop.”

“Okay Dex just for you.” Masuka bowed sarcastically.

“Thank you.” Dexter sighed, shaking his head and getting back on task. Now that he was back to work something occurred to him, He hadn’t looked at his project as a whole yet. He had only looked at small sections recovering fibers and blood samples for lab work. Now that he was standing and away from the ground he could really take in the damage on this John Doe.

He was a dark yellow color, it reminded Dexter of the color of grain. Dexter could tell that his tail was a muddy brown even when it was clean, free of dust and blood. His mark was just a simple group of generic flowers and a small gardening shovel.

Maybe he was a florist

The Damage done the body was almost absurd. He was covered in cuts and gashes, one in particular in his shoulder was much larger than the others, like something had been stuck in and ripped back out. The side of his chest was dented; some of his ribs were broken. One of his hooves was almost shattered. The bone was splintered and blood had leaked out of the hoof’s exposed bone marrow.

How the hell did that happen, did killer smash it with something?

Then there was the icing on the cake, the bloody neck stump which was now visible for all to see, Masuka must have taken the head sack off the body. The ragged meat was covered in coagulated blood. From what Dexter could tell the cut was clean until it reached the spine. The rest looked as though brute strength had been used to remove the head. The tear was uneven and sloppy with no indication that a tool had been used.

Dexter was lost in all the possibilities of what could have been use on the victim. He didn’t even notice when his sister walked up next to him. “Dex what does the blood tell?”

Dexter snapped away from his thoughts, “Huh? Oh well let me think for a moment.”

“Fine but hurry before the locals wake up we need to get this out of here to spare them this site.”

Dexter thought for a moment looking at all the trails and scuff marks on the ground, then over to the body, and back.

“Okay I think I got it.” His voice became monotone, and his eyes became slightly distant.

---

Our victim was walking down this street parallel with the train track towards ‘Jackets Galore’ when without warning he was push from behind making him tumble onto the dirt. He recovers and stands up quickly but the pony that pushed him is armed, something with a blunt end, like an ax. He is struck across the faces, is breaks his nose a send out blood flying out.

See how the blood here is in a crescent shape, that’s from him swinging his head from the impact.

He falls again but this time his attacker is on him and beats him and slashes at him with his weapon. Our victim sustains cuts, gashes, nothing too serious; most of them are defensive wounds. He is able to get back to his hooves and gain a little distance from his assailant. That may have been a big mistake.

Our killer was strong enough to throw his weapon a few yards into our guy. The impact knocks him down for the last time, here where he now lays. The killer ripped out his weapon smashed the victim hoof to keep him from running, and ended it, taking his head with him and replacing it with that sack we found on the body.

---

Now that Dexter story of death was it was time to go. Debra had the body taken away, and most of the police left with it but some stayed to keep ponies from tampering with the crime scene.

Quinn had left, he gave a police mare a ride, so Dexter was stuck waiting for the train with Masuka. They sat on one of the bench on the boarding platform of the station. It was a little awkward neither of them want to talk about the murder so they sat in silence. After a few minutes the sun starting to take back the world, the train would be there soon and the two lab geeks could get there work done and go home for the day.

Masuka was tired of the silence, “So, see any good Clop shows lately.”

“Masuka just shut up.” Dexter demanded emotionlessly.