Posted in 2017, Contemporary, Fantasy, Fiction, Mystery, Remember...?, Writing

Remember…? Chapter 3: Blackbird

Rowan Winters stifled a scream. She did not want to startle the neighbours. It was still early in the morning and she had planned to get to her office before the morning rush. She was not a person who enjoyed crowds, not after all she had seen. She took a few deep breaths and though she was still shaking uncontrollably she inspected the scene.

The bird was small with bluish black feathers. Its beak was long and orange. Its glazed over eyes were dark and surrounded by orange rings. There was no mistake about it. This was a blackbird.

She then went to the note. She couldn’t use her power on any animal, insect, or plant. This made it so she couldn’t find out everything about a person just by shaking a hand, but if she touched something like a ring she would at least know everything the object witnessed. Not that she would ever do that. She found it far too unsettling and creepy to do.

She couldn’t use her power on the paper, but at least she could use the ink if it wasn’t blood.

She touched the ink and closed her eyes. Everything that had happened around the ink ever since it was first made filled her mind. She looked at one of the more recent memories, one from before it had been taped to her door.

A strange person stood over the piece of paper. He was tall, very tall and wore a black hooded cloak that reminded her of a drawing of the grim reaper. His hood covered his face from the ink as he wrote. His fingers appeared to end in long metallic claws. While he wrote, he spoke.

“Stay away Demivma if you do not want to be mixed up in this. The others may see you as Kápoios pou thymátai but I do not. You are nothing but a Demivma. If you step a foot within Pouthena I will be forced to perform my duty. This is your final warning.”

Rowan found herself pulling her hand away from the note. Never before had someone spoken to her directly through the memories. It felt so strange, but it also felt completely natural to her. She stood there for a moment staring at the note. Who was the man who had written it?

“Hello.” Someone nearby said. “Are you alright?”

One of Rowan’s neighbours stuck her head out of her own door. It was Mary, the kind lady who always seemed to have her grandkids over. They were nice kids. Rowan stared at the other woman with a pained expression on her face.

“Sorry I heard a small commotion. Why are you still here? Wouldn’t you have normally left for work by now?”

Mary stepped out of her room and stopped. Her eyes passing over the small bird in horror.

“Oh… Oh my goodness!” she covered her mouth in horror.

“It was probably just some teenagers trying to be funny.” Rowan urged her neighbour. “There is nothing to get worked up over.”

“I’m… I’m calling the police.” Mary ran into her apartment. Rowan could hear dialing sounds coming from within.

“No don’t. Wait!”

But it was too late. The police were now coming and Rowan was forced to stay in the apartment building waiting for them to arrive.

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Posted in 2017, Contemporary, Fantasy, Fiction, Mystery, Remember...?, Writing

Remember…? Chapter 2: The Murder

Rowan Winters relaxed on the small couch in her small living room that night. Her apartment was chilly and she snuggled up in a soft blanket. She wanted desperately to fall asleep but she feared she couldn’t after what she had read in the file. She was even more scared about what she would see when she touched the evidence.

She began doubting her ability to solve the case. In the past all she had gotten were small jobs. Things such as finding a lost object or finding out who had written a cruel letter. What was she getting into by taking her first ever murder case. She had no experience. Why had she even been hired?

She sighed as she remembered the contents of the file.

The murder had taken place a few days before near the Horned Owl café just outside of the city. It happened in the late evening when no one was around. The waitress working at the time had seen the victim leave in a hurry just an hour before the estimated time of death. She said he appeared agitated and scared when she saw him in the café. He was also strange in that he wore a hoody that was a few sizes too large and always kept the hood up so that it covered his face.

The fire department was called at around half past ten to a small fire that had broken out. They found the victim in the middle of it. The police came shortly after having been called at the same time as the fire department. The autopsy showed that he was mutilated before being burned but they need more time to figure out exactly how.

All this left Rowan Winters with a sick feeling in her stomach. What exactly had she gotten herself into? What was she thinking when she accepted to help the police with this case?

She finally fell asleep in her bed after deciding that she would tell the police the next day that she would no longer be helping. That was the best choice for her after all.

But she wouldn’t get away from this murder that easily. She woke up the next morning determined to talk to the police, did everything that she normally did in the morning, and walked out the door. She almost vomited when she saw it.

Someone had placed a headless bird as well as its head just in front of her door. A note taped to her door read:

“Stay out of Pouthena, Demivma. If you don’t listen you will be next.

Sincerely,

The Valkyrie”

Posted in 2017, Contemporary, Fantasy, Fiction, Mystery, Remember...?, Writing

Remember…?: Part 2, Psychometry

“Why would you need something like that?” Asked the police officer.

“Because it helps me with my work.”

“How?”

“Do you happen to have anything on you so that I can show you? It is kind of hard to explain. Anything will do.”

The officer reluctantly handed over a crumpled-up piece of paper. Rowan held it in her hands for a second, concentrating on the texture, shape, and size of the object she now held. She closed her eyes though she had no need to. She could see every detail about this object. After a minute she had enough information to do what she wanted to do.

“This piece of paper came from the notepad of a Greg Saunders. He is a police chief, I assume he’s your boss. He bought the pad about a month ago. He tore this piece of paper off it a week ago wrote a message on it and gave it to you. After reading the message I know why it sat in your pocket for a week. Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone.”

“But that’s just stuff you could easily find out by searching the internet.”

“Of course it is. What I can’t learn from a quick search of the internet is the fact that it has been in your pocket for a week along with some keys, a credit card, some candies which have quickly been disappearing into your mouth, and a small pebble from a creek just outside the city.”

“How’d you know.”

“Observations. You can find out a lot just by looking at and feeling an object.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

Rowan smiled before handing the paper back. “Can you please get me such an object?” she asked again.

“Of course. I’ll just have to convince the Chief.”

The officer left after saying good bye.

Rowan sighed and sagged back in her chair. She didn’t like lying to people like that but she didn’t have a choice because no one could possibly believe the truth.

The truth was she didn’t have superior observational skills after all, but instead she could sense an objects whole history just by touching it. She could turn this ability on and off at will, unless the object was connected to an event with strong emotions. The building her office was in was fairly new to avoid the side effects of her power.

After some research she found that she had psychometry. She was curious as a child and this piece of information had made her so excited. However she soon realized that it brought her nothing but pain, especially as she was seen as mentally insane growing up which caused her to move from foster house to foster house every couple of months.

From that she learned to never tell a soul about what she could do.

“Glad that’s all over.” She laughed to herself.

To be continued…

Posted in 2017, Contemporary, Fantasy, Fiction, Mystery, Remember...?, Writing

Remember…?: Part 1, Rowan Winters PI

The bright sun shone into the dark room through the thin slits in the blinds. Inside everything was covered in shadow. The lone private investigator sat alone at the one desk flipping through papers. Rowan Winters, Private Investigator was painted in thick swirling letters on the single pane of glass that had been set in the door. To Rowan the words were backwards, but to anyone else they were an invitation.

That is because rumours had recently begun to spread throughout the city of Kapou of a private investigator who could find anything or anyone no matter how much effort was put into hiding them. It was only a matter of time until Rowan could investigate something a little more complicated than a cheating boyfriend or a lost ring.

Rowan lit up one of the cigars from the top drawer of the desk just as a knock came to the door.

“Come in.” The PI called.

A lone policeman entered the office.

“Dude, what is this? A noire film. It’s 2017. Why don’t you open the blinds or turn on some lights?” He exclaimed.

“Do I look like a dude to you?” Rowan took a puff of her cigar.

“And is that even legal? Aren’t there, like, laws that state that you cannot legally do that?” He coughed.

She chuckled to herself. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” She placed the cigar on the ashtray that sat on the desk before opening the blinds. “Besides you’re a police officer, shouldn’t you know if that was legal or not?”

“Um, obviously I knew that.” He gave her a strange look.

“Sure you did.” She said as she sat down in her chair. “Now why are you here?”

“Ma’am. There is someone we need to find urgently. We have had no luck. Will you please help us? I promise that you will be paid.”

“It’s my job to find people. Now who do you need me to find?”

He smiled in thanks. “There has been a murder. It’s a strange one and we can’t make heads or tails of anything. We need you to find the murderer.” He walked up to the desk. “I have the files here and if you need anything else just call this number.” He placed a file and a small slip of paper on her desk. “Thank you so much.”

“I have just one question?”

“Yes?”

“Are there any objects you know for sure the suspect would have touched?”

To be continued…

Posted in 2017, Remember...?, Update Post, Writing

A quick note…

Tomorrow my first piece of fiction written specifically for this blog will go up. For it I am trying something new. The goal of this story is to improve my writing abilities. It’s a part of a series and is something I would describe as mysterious contemporary fantasy. Technically that is what the Dresden Files are classified as, but whatever.

On Saturday since I was unable to watch a movie to review and I’m busy for the next few days I am releasing the second part of this series. I guess that’s a good thing because you don’t have wait as long for the next part after tomorrow’s cliffhanger.

I hope you enjoy.