06-22-2014, 07:10 AM
Investigations take time, especially those where there is so little actual information to go on. A number of bodies were found and recovered. All were studied, autopsied, tested, and examined. Blood, skin, residue, fibre, and hair samples all taken and analysed. Again and again, the medical examiner’s office returned the same finding.
Cause of death: indeterminate.
Even the man who had been neatly sliced in half had already been dead when it had happened. No cause of death, no weapon, no motive, no suspect. No idea what had happened to all those people.
The mundane world, at least, has no idea.
Earth to earth
The mood is sombre, and the only sound is that of footsteps along the gravel path. A small procession of people, dressed mostly in black, move towards a waiting priest. Several seats have been laid out, for those who may need them. The group is met by a waiting man, dressed in black with a white collar. They assemble to watch, to listen, and to remember.
A gentle breeze causes the trees to sway, the clouds in the sky to drift along. Otherwise there is little movement. The single man is speaking, reading from a book held in his hands. Or at least the book is held, and he recites without reading. Some of the others are crying. Some hold each other for comfort. One or two try to keep their emotions under control, not wanting to give in and let their sorrow show.
Ashes to ashes
The monologue is brief, unheard from a distance. And it’s at a distance that Alexander is standing. Matching the others, he’s also dressed in black. He doesn’t really know the person that the others are saying their goodbyes to. There was a name on a piece of ID, date of birth, address. The photo on the driver’s licence showing her in her prime. Before a spirit of corruption had ended her.
He stands, watching, unwatched. He’s far enough away that the group’s focus, along with his tendency to blend into the background, leave him unnoticed. He watches the family and the close friends, watches their reaction. Watches as the coffin is slowly lowered into the ground. Watches as each person takes their turn to throw a little soil, or the flower they had brought with them, into the grave. Watches as they begin to drift off, to head elsewhere to celebrate her life and mourn their loss. Watches as others come to remove the chairs and the other paraphernalia that is no longer needed, and watches as they walk away with the priest.
It’s then that he approaches. Others will be along shortly to begin the work of filling the grave, leaving its occupant to her eternal rest. He takes a little of the soil himself, then throws in onto the coffin. Something is pulled from his jacket pocket – a driver’s licence. This, too, is thrown into the grave.
Alexander speaks quietly, not that there’s anyone around to hear. It just feels right to do so. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you. I hope you find your rest, and that your family find some peace.”
That done, he turns and walks away. This isn’t the first of these funerals that he’s appeared at, and it won’t be the last. Not until all the victims of the spirit have been interred.
Dust to dust
Cause of death: indeterminate.
Even the man who had been neatly sliced in half had already been dead when it had happened. No cause of death, no weapon, no motive, no suspect. No idea what had happened to all those people.
The mundane world, at least, has no idea.
Earth to earth
The mood is sombre, and the only sound is that of footsteps along the gravel path. A small procession of people, dressed mostly in black, move towards a waiting priest. Several seats have been laid out, for those who may need them. The group is met by a waiting man, dressed in black with a white collar. They assemble to watch, to listen, and to remember.
A gentle breeze causes the trees to sway, the clouds in the sky to drift along. Otherwise there is little movement. The single man is speaking, reading from a book held in his hands. Or at least the book is held, and he recites without reading. Some of the others are crying. Some hold each other for comfort. One or two try to keep their emotions under control, not wanting to give in and let their sorrow show.
Ashes to ashes
The monologue is brief, unheard from a distance. And it’s at a distance that Alexander is standing. Matching the others, he’s also dressed in black. He doesn’t really know the person that the others are saying their goodbyes to. There was a name on a piece of ID, date of birth, address. The photo on the driver’s licence showing her in her prime. Before a spirit of corruption had ended her.
He stands, watching, unwatched. He’s far enough away that the group’s focus, along with his tendency to blend into the background, leave him unnoticed. He watches the family and the close friends, watches their reaction. Watches as the coffin is slowly lowered into the ground. Watches as each person takes their turn to throw a little soil, or the flower they had brought with them, into the grave. Watches as they begin to drift off, to head elsewhere to celebrate her life and mourn their loss. Watches as others come to remove the chairs and the other paraphernalia that is no longer needed, and watches as they walk away with the priest.
It’s then that he approaches. Others will be along shortly to begin the work of filling the grave, leaving its occupant to her eternal rest. He takes a little of the soil himself, then throws in onto the coffin. Something is pulled from his jacket pocket – a driver’s licence. This, too, is thrown into the grave.
Alexander speaks quietly, not that there’s anyone around to hear. It just feels right to do so. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you. I hope you find your rest, and that your family find some peace.”
That done, he turns and walks away. This isn’t the first of these funerals that he’s appeared at, and it won’t be the last. Not until all the victims of the spirit have been interred.
Dust to dust