Small drops of rain pattered across the grim streets of Stoker ave.
It was only a light shower, considering the usual amount it rains.
The sky was pitch black, and even the moon gave in to the dark. The only thing resisting the blanket of darkness was a single lamppost that hung from the old Emerson apartment building. There was nothing particularly special about Emerson building. Just a old building with collapsed wooden planks and things you would expect to find in a 40 year old hotel.
Except tonight was different.
Officer Garrett had just been dismissed and was heading home, crossing Stoker Ave. He was tired and stressed from work. Just as he crossed the Emerson building, he glanced at a object lying on the road.
“Probably just roadkill.” He thought.
He started walking towards it with suspicion, and pulled out his revolver. His finger was ready to pull the trigger. Garrett felt something wet touch his trousers. He reached out blindly in the dark and all over his fingers and the cold pavement, was red blood.
Shouts and yells rang through the street, as Dr. Clyde Norbert awoke.
He wanted to bury himself underneath the warm covers, but he flung up with a jolt as his doorbell rung.
He hastily put on his trench coat and opened the door.
He was surprised to see policemen standing outside his doorstep.
“Evening Officer Garrett.” Said Clyde.
“You, Clyde Norbert, Medical doctor and surgeon?” Asked Garrett.
“Indeed I am sir.” Replied Clyde, “ tell me, what troubles you tonight sir?”
The policeman nudged his partner, and immediately two paramedics brought in a body of a man.
He appeared to be pale, eyes shone white, and everything else fine.
“We found this poor chap right near the curve down Stoker Ave.” said Garrett
“ I don’t see anything wrong with him.” Said Clyde.
“He was on the cold pavement, eyes wide open, drenched in the rain and soaked with his own blood around him.”
“Excuse me sir, but I still can’t seem to understand why you had to call me for this murder.” Asked Clyde.
“The paramedics couldn’t figure what did it.” Said the Garrett
“The person who sucked this poor chap’s blood out of his body.”
Clyde froze for a split second, and rushed to the body. He rubbed his hands over the chest and the stomach. Everything looked good, organs all in their right positions, bones all correctly placed, and the neck.–
Six tiny teeth marks were embedded on the man’s pale neck.
Clyde held the man’s throat and pressed down. It was lighter and much more emptier. He grabbed a surgeon’s razor and made a slit through the man’s leg.
White puss and slimy foam seeped out, where blood should leek.
“I’ll be damned.” Said Clyde, “Where the hell is his blood?”
“That’s what we’re wondering.” Said Garrett.
The policemen left the apartment building one by one, and the body was taken to the morgue to be further examined the next day. But for now, Clyde needed a clean bath, and more time to ponder about the murder of the man.
Garrett got onto his car with other policemen and drove to the station. He wasn’t sure who or what could’ve done that to a man. If a man had done it, the murder weapon would surely be found. But if a man hadn’t done it, what did?
Garrett felt tired as hell. His thoughts were interrupted when the continuing sirens were suddenly turned off. The car halted to a stop, and Garrett ran towards the ambulance.
there was something blocking the road.