The Id Saga (part 3)

The Strange Report of Detective Samuel Olsley

Prologue
The dim street lamps cast ghostly shadows down the alleyways. Straining desperately to hold back the dark, but can’t for the cancerous malignance of the city. Nothing works here. I’ve been to many towns and cities and the lights always seem so much brighter. Here, darkness rules the night and shadows rule the day. My name is Samuel Olsley. I was a detective for the Lucidus City Police Department. Lucidus…Latin for bright…I laugh at the absurdity of the name. I quit the force a few years back. Things just got…how can I put this…weird. A little too real for my tastes. ‘Too real’…I thought I knew what real was. Turns out that there are things going on in this world that I never thought possible and now that I know the truth,………..Oh, sorry, got lost there for a second. Instead of talking philosophy, how about I just start at the beginning and tell you how I first learned of someone… or should I say something named Id.

1
I was out on call one day with my partner Robert Godwel. He was a good kid but green as a farmer’s thumb. We had been called to investigate a murder/suicide at some accounting business or something like that. Apparently a man had murdered one female co-worker, his boss, and then put a gun in his mouth. The strange thing about that case was that neither of the victims were killed with a gun.
“Asshole took the easy way out. Bastard should have suffered.” Robert was looking at the body of the killer. “The folks inside said that his name was Liam…Liam Fitzgerald. Said he was an OK guy, too.”
“They always say that. One thing you’ll learn once you’ve done this as long as I have, is that killers come in all forms. It could be a preacher, a teacher, a cop, hell, it could be your very wife and you wouldn’t even know it till they stick a knife in your back.”
“Damn.” With that short grunt of understanding Robert went back to taking notes. I couldn’t help but wonder if Robert had ever seen a dead body before. If not, then he’s taking it surprisingly well. “Hey Sam, take a look at this.” I walked over to see what had my partner riled up.
“What do you see?” Robert picked the gun up with his pencil as to not contaminate the evidence.
“This gun was shot twice. Look, there are two empty shells. Think we should have forensics check around for another bullet hole?” I stared at the gun as I pondered the situation.
“Yeah,” I pulled out a cigarette and put the filter between my lips. I took out my Zippo lighter and held it in my hand. For some reason the cool feel of steel calms me, helps me think. Clink. Spark. Flame.
“You know, you should really stop smoking. That stuff will kill ya.” I grinned and thought of the three bullet wound scars that dot my back.
“At least I know who’s pulling the trigger. Come on, I’ll buy you a burger.”



2
“Evenin’, Detective Godwel.” The sweet voice of the waitress was directed solely at my partner.
“Hello, Linda, how’ve you been.”
“Oh, things are just peachy. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me. Can I get you anything. It’s on the house.
“That’s awfully nice of you. Uh…I’ll take a burger…you want something?”
“Coffee.” I wondered what exactly he did for her. He’d only been in this city for a month.
“Comin’ right up.” The waitress left to get our food. I was going to ask him what that was all about but I guess the look on my face asked for me.
“It’s a long story. Suffice it to say that she had some trouble with some gang members and I helped her…unofficially.” A wink came with the last word and was all the answer I needed. I used to do some “unofficial” work myself when I was young but I’ve gotten too old for that kind of shit.
“Fair enough.” The waitress had returned with my coffee. I took a drink and my face recoiled in horror.
“What was that?”
“This coffee is terrible. I’ve never tasted anything like it. Try this.” Robert took the mug and smelled it first. I guess it passed that test so he proceeded to drink. He nearly dropped the mug in shock.
“Wow! I didn’t know you could make coffee taste like that.”
“Here’s your burger, Detective. Does your friend like the coffee? I made it myself.” A huge proud grin covered her face.
“Uh, yeah, he was just telling me how great it was.”
“Good ta hear!” The smile somehow got bigger. “So what kinda case are you workin’ on today?”
“Some wackjob accountant down the road. Murdered his boss and…” I had shot Bob a glance that implied that he talked too much. Message received. “Nevermind.”
“It wasn’t Liam was it?” My eyebrow shot up. “He used to come in here for lunch nearly everyday but there was something different about that last time. He came in and ordered…and everything was fine but something must have set him off. He started talking to himself…cursin’ even. I came over to see if something was wrong but he just stood up and ran out. I hope it wasn’t him, he was such a nice fella.” My eyes made a quick motion to tell Robert to talk to her. It was followed by a slight understanding nod.
“Well, I think I’ll take off. Thanks for the coffee, ma’am.” With that I made my way to the door. I noticed something scratched into one of the tables as I left. “Ma’am, could you tell me what table Mr. Fitzgerald was sitting at that last time he was here?”
“It was that one you’re standing next to right now.”
“Hmm…Thank you” The words Bill’s a fag was carved into the Formica table, as colorful as that was, it wasn’t what interested me. Right below that, the words Id was here help me. The interesting thing was that even though it seemed to be written as one statement the Id was here and the help me were two distinctly different handwriting. I pondered on this as I walked out the door.


3

Ring. Ring.
“Mmm…Hello? Bob? Jesus, do you know what time it is? Yeah. Another one? Goddammit… I’m on my way.”
“Who was it, dear?” My wife Cynthia rolled over with her eyes still closed.
“It was Bob. I’ve got to go in.”
“Is it bad?”
“It’s always bad.” I leaned over and gave her a reassuring kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon. Go back to sleep and by the time you wake up I’ll be here with breakfast.” With a sigh she rolled over and went back to sleep.
When I got to the scene, Bob and a few others from the department were all standing in a semi-circle. Their coats made shiny slick from the pouring rain and the flickering of a nearby streetlight made it look like some strange dream of a funeral in a dark alleyway. I walked up slowly and put my hand on Bob’s shoulder. He jumped.
“What do we got?” Robert’s face was white; it wasn’t the same calm face I saw at the last scene.
“It’s just a kid, Sam. Somebody’s kid…” If it wasn’t raining I’m sure I would have seen tears on his face. In all my years as a detective I had never seen anything to compare to what I witnessed that night. The torso had been ripped in half, arms and legs were all nearly broken off, and the face…a face frozen in sheer terror. “Who could have done something like this?”
“I don’t know, Bobby, but we’ll find him. Why don’t you go home, there’s nothing for you to do. Get some sleep.” I took a walk around the area looking for anything that might help but…nothing. As I turned to go back to my car I saw something down one of the side alleyways. There, on the wall, written in blood still wet and dripping, were the words Id was here. The wall was illuminated by the flickering streetlight which gave it a horror movie aesthetic. We were dealing with a class A psycho and I was going to get the bastard. “Hey, Steve, come look at this.” Steve, another detective that has been on the force nearly as long as I have, came over and looked at the graffiti.
“Id? What, like the Freudian mind thing?”
“Maybe. It’s weird. I saw this same thing in the diner where Liam Fitzgerald went right before he killed his boss.”
“Do you think they could be connected?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Look, we’ve already put in the call. There’s nothing here for us, why don’t you go home. Bobby’s still over there sitting in his car, make sure he’s alright.”
“Yeah. Don’t stay in this rain for too long… and give me a call as soon as forensics finds something.”
“You got it, Sam.”






4

I got the call during breakfast. “Yes? That’s great news. Call Bobby, I’ll meet him there.” Forensics found a few hairs and a fingerprint that belonged to some high school kid. He must have had some trouble of his own because he was unconscious at the hospital. When I got there, Robert was pacing the hall outside of the kid’s room.
“About time, Sam. What took you so long?” His eyes were hollow. I could tell he didn’t sleep last night.
“Breakfast, are you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Didn’t sleep too well, but I’m alright. The mother is over there.” Tears fell from her eyes. “Do you want me to question her?”
“Maybe I should handle it.” The red, crying face of the woman should have made me feel some sympathy, but this far into my career my empathy was shot. Cool. Collected. That was me. “Mrs. Daniels?” I flashed her my badge. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“A..about what?”
“Just a few questions about your son. Do you know where your son was last night?”
“He came home from school and went straight to bed. He’s been having some trouble at school with a bully so I just let him be.”
“Trouble with a bully? Does this happen often?”
“Why are you asking me all these questions? Why are you here?”
“Well, Ma’am, there was an incident last night and we think your son might have been involved. Do you know Greg Richardson?”
“That’s the boy who’s been bothering my son. Why? What happened?” I gave a glance over at Bobby who was taking notes. He acknowledged it with a knowing nod.
“Greg Richardson was found dead last night. Brutally murdered. Your son’s hair and fingerprints were found at the scene.” The woman’s head collapsed into her hands. I decided not to push this any further.
“Detectives, he’s awake.” A young, blond, female nurse came out of the room.
“Thank you. Come on, Bobby.” The kid was sitting up in his hospital bed. Skinny, brown hair, brown eyes, nothing special. Just a normal looking kid. “Nickolas Daniels?”
“Yes?” The kid didn’t look like the type that could rip a man in half, but then again, they seldom do.
“We’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
“I’d like to know why I’m handcuffed first.” Robert walked over and uncuffed him. I was a little surprised that Bobby had cuffed him. Not for any reason other than the fact that I didn’t even know where my cuffs were, I haven’t used them in so long.
“Just didn’t want you to go anywhere before we could chat.” I gave him a reassuring smile. A classic interrogation method. I’ve always been good at playing good cop. “Could you tell me where you were last night?”
“I was in my room.”
“You didn’t go anywhere after you got home?”
“…No.”
“I understand you had a bit of trouble with a bully.”
“It was no big deal.” He subconsciously rubbed his eye which had quite the shiner.
“Is that were you got that black eye?”
“Yes…”
“Was it a Mr. Greg Richardson that gave you that black eye?”
“Yeah…but it was no big deal.” He’s sweating.
“Mmhmm…Well, I think you should know he was found dead in an alley. His body was torn apart and covered in blood.” A strange look came over the boy’s face as his color melted away. “He was murdered…” Something wrong with his eyes. They lost their shine and his pupils dilated. It was like the light was being ripped from him. I waved my hand in front of his face but there was no reaction. I tried snapping my fingers but still no response. Just as I had started to leave to get a nurse the shine returned as he looked over at me. “Are you ok, Mr. Daniels? We lost you for a second.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t stand this anymore. I’ll tell you what happened…”
“Go on.”
“It was Id. He came to me and told me that he ‘took care’ of a problem of mine. I told him not to but he did it anyway. I think he murdered Greg for me.” More tears. “I’m so sorry.” I was shocked. I didn’t know what to say…so Bob said it for me.
“Nickolas Daniels, you have the right to remain silent…”

5

“Id…” That name again. It had been three months and the tenth Id murder. Every damn one of them had that name somewhere on the crime scene. Something strange was going on but I was lost. There is nothing quite like the feeling of being alone, in the dark, and knowing that there is some terrible thing waiting for you somewhere in that dreadful black. I couldn’t rely on Bobby anymore…poor guy snapped. After seeing that mutilated kid he was never the same. I stopped by his apartment every now and again to see if he was ok…all I can say is that he was alive but definitely not ok. Most days he wouldn’t even let me in but on those off days when I did manage to get in I immediately wish I hadn’t. The smell was the worst part…piss and shit permeated the very air that laid heavily in that small boxy room. I wish I could have helped him. I wish I could have done something…
“Come to bed, sweety.” The siren voice of my wife filled the room.
“I’ll be there soon. I have a little more work to do.” Her soft brown hair draped down my shoulder as she leaned over and kissed my cheek.
“Don’t be long.” She left me to my devices knowing that I wouldn’t be in the bed with her when she woke up.
“Id…”





6

Three weeks passed until the next murder showed up. “What do we got this time, Steve?”
“Another kid…ten years old…never had a chance.” I could tell that this string of murders had Steve on his last leg. We’d been through murder sprees before but this was different. It was always the same MO but different killers. “What the hell is going on here, Sam? I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“I don’t know, Steve.” I really didn’t. I took a look around the crime scene once again and once again ‘Id was here’ but this time I saw something that made my heart sink. Right below the ‘Id was here’ the words ‘Help me, Sam’ was written. Lying on the ground covered in blood was a badge. I didn’t have to check the badge number, I knew who’s it was. “Bobby…” The bile rose in my throat. I had to fight to keep it down.
“Find something, Sam?” Had to think quickly. I slid the badge into my pocket.
“No, nothing…”
“Are you ok? You don’t look so well.”
“I don’t feel it. If you don’t mind I think I’m going to call it a day.”
“No problem. Can’t say that I blame you. Stop by Robert’s for me. I was going to go today but I’ve been volunteered to pick up the kids today.”
“Yeah…ok.”

7

I stood outside the door to Robert’s apartment for what seemed like an eternity. Staring at the bloody badge but seeing nothing. My world was going black. Nothing was right. Eventually my senses returned and I knocked on the door.
“Hey! Bobby! Are you there?” There was no answer. I knocked louder but still nothing. I stood still. Didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. I listened at the door for any sign of movement, but there were none. I took a few steps back, instinctively pulled my gun, braced myself, and charged through the door. The smell had gotten worse. I nearly tripped over the toppled refrigerator that had been thrown into the middle of the floor. Furniture had been tossed around the room and the only light came from the electric snow coming from the TV. “Jesus, Bob, what have you been up to?” Slowly, I made my way through the labyrinth of chairs and cushions. Looking here and there, trying to find some clue to Robert’s whereabouts. The bedroom door was closed. I cautiously put my ear to the door. No sound. “Bobby? You there?” Ready for whatever lay behind that cursed portal I kicked the door open. He wasn’t there. His gun was on the bed next to a picture of Robert, me, and Cynthia taken at the last policeman picnic. I checked the gun to see if it was loaded. The clip was empty, but there was one bullet in the chamber. My stomach tightened. I knew who that bullet was for. “Bobby…” I sat down on the bed. My mind felt detached, like this was all some bad dream. Picking up the picture I stared at it until a terrible revelation hit me. He wasn’t finished yet. I grabbed his gun and slid it into my coat pocket as I ran to the phone. Luckily there was still a dial tone. Ring. Ring. Ring. No answer. “Oh God, Cynthia…”


8

Bing. The elevator door opened to a poorly lit hallway. The light seemed to be sucked into some horrid unknown and the closer I came to my door the darker it got. My gun was drawn as I slowly approached. The door was already open. Chunks of the shattered door frame indicated that it was kicked open. I entered into the black, miasmic darkness that filled my apartment so thick that I couldn’t see five feet in front of me. I pulled out the small flashlight that I kept in my inner coat pocket and shined it into the dark. It helped but the thick otherworldly black refused to be penetrated. I gave a few quick glances around the room as I quickly explored the now unfamiliar surroundings of my home. Just like at Robert’s, the place had been ransacked.
“Cynthia? Cynthia, are you here?” There was no answer. I made my way to the living room and there, covering the floor and walls, were bloody streaked hand prints leading back to the master bedroom. “God, no.” I ran as fast as I could down the hall and on the door of the bedroom, written in blood, ID IS HERE. Fury fueled me as I bashed through the door, but that fuel was quickly sapped from me as I witnessed the dismembered corpse of my wife. I feel to my knees with the weight of a thousand suns falling from the sky. “Cynthia!” My tears fell into puddles of blood.
“Welcome home, Mr. Olsley. So glad we can finally meet.” I pointed my light and gun toward the source of the voice. Standing in the corner, with a demented grin on his face, was Robert. Only something was wrong. His eyes. His eyes were black. Black as coal. He calmly walked over and kicked the gun from my hand.
“Bobby? Why?”
“Please, Mr. Olsley. Do you really think that pathetic excuse of a man could have done such… beautiful work? I think not. I thought you were a man of more intellect than that. You know who I am, don’t you, Mr. Olsley.” Confusion isn’t the correct word for what I felt but it’s the closest word available to man.
“Id?”
“Goooood. I was right about you then.” His voice made me nauseous. It wasn’t Bobby’s. “Now for your other question, why, well, I suppose the easiest answer would be because I enjoy it. I revel in the destruction of your measly flesh bodies. They fall apart so easily and the colors, oh the colors.” The grim look of satisfaction flooded over Robert’s, or should I say, Id’s face.
“What are you?”
“What am I? What am I? What am I? That’s quite an existential question for you to ask. Do you want the long answer, the short answer or the truth? I’m sure that you won’t understand any of them but I’m in a…euphoric mood after such an enjoyable slaughter, so I will answer.”
“Truth…”
“Ahhh, a seeker of truths. A detective to the end, eh, Mr. Olsley. Very well, the truth it is. I do hope your primitive mind doesn’t collapse before I have my fun with you.” Id walked to the wall and proceeded to draw something on it using one of my wife’s fingers. “Here it is. Here is your truth. Have a look.” I raised my drooping head and shined the flashlight at the symbols scribbled across the wall.
“AAAHHHHHHHHHH!” It felt like my mind was going to explode. The pain was indescribable. Images of things that have no words burned through my mind. By the end of the experience I was curled up on the floor, shaking and jerking around like someone possessed. I tried to speak but only gibberish came out.
“What was that? I couldn’t quite make that out? Though, I am glad to see that you made it through…relatively unscathed. You should have seen the last fellow who wanted to know the truth. It was quite…” As Id rambled on, my senses returned enough for me to grab Robert’s gun from my coat pocket. I picked myself up to my knees trying desperately to control my muscle functions. My hand wobbled as I pointed the barrel at Id’s face.
“Die…” The word hissed with hate as it slid through my clenched teeth. He smiled. BANG!