The Gereziac Chronicles

There was no doubt what the outcome of her meeting with the two policemen was going to be and it wasn’t long before a scared and confused Chantelle was being bundled into the back seat of a police car ready to be taken away to the local police station for questioning on what had exactly happened in the alleyway.

The quietness of the alleyway was now shattered as more and more police arrived at what was now a murder scene in order to help make a secure cordon so that nobody could inadvertently walk into it and ruin any vital evidence.

So, the police knew they had to act fast and were being greatly hampered by the number of curious onlookers that was beginning to grow larger by the second.

Even though it was the early hours of the morning, many people had seen the commotion building up on their way home from a night of fun in the local clubs and were lapping up all the excitement that was happening around them in their neighbourhood.

It wasn’t long before the forensic department barged their way through the crowd in order to begin their painstaking hunt for vital clues and assess the area before the Coroner moved in to give his expert opinion on how the man had died.

As each minute passed, the sun was rising higher and soon the alleyway was lit up, revealing splashes of blood on the wall and pools of blood on the ground.

But incredibly strangely, there was not one drop of blood inside the most important piece of evidence in this murder - the victim himself.

As the Coroner and other police specialists examined the lifeless man’s body on the ground, every single one of them immediately noticed how pale and thin the corpse looked.

This was no normal corpse that was lying on the ground before them - this was something that most of them had only seen in films or read in books and a debate began to start between them, but no matter how much their theories seemed to differ, they could most certainly agree that this was indeed one of the strangest sights that they had ever encountered in their lives.

As the coroner checked and officially pronounced the young man dead, he could see the absolute terror showing in the eyes of the corpse staring back at him, displaying how horrible a death he must have suffered.

What was the last thing he saw? Who or what had attacked him? Why was he attacked in the first place? These were the questions that needed to be asked and their only chance of them being answered had left the scene earlier in the back seat of a police car.

The coroner crouched down at the side of the body and after his initial run-of-the-mill medical examination, examined it a little more.

Part of this was to check the victim’s neck for any obvious signs of strangulation, so he turned the head to one side which revealed nothing, but when he turned it the other way he found to his surprise that a number of puncture wounds were clearly visible.

He double checked to confirm that his eyes were not playing tricks on him, but his second check revealed the same thing.

He immediately called the crime scene photographer over to capture the sight on film before the body was removed from the scene and taken to the police mortuary in preparation for the post-mortem to be carried out on it to confirm the cause of death.

The photographer and coroner both stared in disbelief at the sight before them. Surely what they were seeing could undoubtedly be considered abnormal in any part of the world and the thought that somewhere in this town during the night someone or something was waiting to do this to the victim sent shivers down their spines.

Whether it was man or beast, it could still be hiding out somewhere close-by ready to pick out another unsuspecting victim to kill and both men agreed that whatever it was, it should be caught before it ever had the chance again.

Whether the coroner thought what he was seeing right now looked like something straight out of the pages of a piece of fiction, he still had to report his findings honestly and truthfully, but how could he write down that he personally felt that this was the work of a vampire?

Whoever read it would laugh at the very thought of the idea as they surveyed his report. He may have had a well-respected and very long and happy career with the local police force, but even that would count for nothing as the damage from his report would become irreparable.

He stood back from the corpse and let the rest of his team put it inside a body bag before placing it into the back of their car to take away to the mortuary without a moment’s delay.

This was undoubtedly the strangest thing that the coroner had ever witnessed in his long 40 year career with the police force and as he watched the car drive off, he still tried to comprehend what he had just witnessed on the corpse.

Back at the station, Chantelle had been checked in by the Duty Officer and all her details taken, along with all of her personal belongings which only left her with the clothes she was wearing when she arrived.

If that wasn’t demeaning enough in itself, she also had to undergo a thorough medical examination accompanied by a female police officer before being placed inside a police cell and left there until someone was ready to question her.

The cell was claustrophobic and dirty and even though it was summer, it still had a cold chill about it. She sat on a hard bench with the thinnest blanket she had ever seen on it and curled herself into a ball as she desperately tried to grasp what was happening to her.

Every minute inside the cell felt like hours and as each one passed, she became more and more agitated. She had done nothing wrong and was the victim in all of this, but here she was lying alone in a police cell being treated like a criminal.

Her mood changed from upset to anger and she fought hard inside to control each of them otherwise she may do something that she would later regret as she was clearly in enough trouble already without making matters worse for herself.

As she was beginning to wonder if she had been forgotten about, she suddenly heard a heavy lock turn and saw the cell door slowly open to let two suited men enter who both had personalities greyer than the suits they wore.

They were both of different ages and the oldest sported a well trimmed moustache while the younger one preferred to stay clean shaven and by first glance you could tell that he liked to look after himself, but the older one was obviously fighting a losing battle to keep his weight under control.

The two stared at Chantelle in silence which made her feel extremely uneasy and threatened before she was greeted by the welcoming sight of a female police officer walking in to join them, who promptly gave Chantelle a smile before sitting next to her on the bench which eased her just a little.

The uneasy silence was broken when the cell door closed and the older man began to introduce himself and his partner.
“Miss Gallagher, I am Detective Inspector Harran and this is Detective Constable Short.”

Chantelle hadn’t been called Miss Gallagher since her Headmistress used to call her that when she was naughty in school and sent to her office to face her punishment for what she had done. The man continued speaking, trying to sound sincere, but to no avail.
“I know you have gone through a lot tonight already, but we need to ask you a few questions, so we can clear up a few matters.”

Chantelle began to shake as she tried to recall what did happen and as she did so, could feel her hand being gently held by the female officer who could see her obvious distress. What she could remember she told them, taking deep breaths as she did so.
“I remember going to work and chatting to a young man who came across as being very nice and friendly. I thought he was kind of cute and when he offered to walk me home, I thought okay because it can be very scary walking around the town on your own with all the fighting between drunks around the clubs lately.”
“So you let a complete stranger walk you home?” the man asked sarcastically, “Do you make this a regular occurrence in your job?”
“You cheeky bastard!” Chantelle screamed at him before she jumped to her feet and had to be held back by the female officer, “I am not a slut who takes a different bloke home every night to shag! How did I know that piece of shit would attack me in that alleyway? He told me it was a short cut and tried it on with me while we were in there and when I refused, he tried to rape me - have you ever had to go through that? No, you wouldn’t have because you’re not a fucking woman and even if you were, you’re so ugly they wouldn’t want you in the first place! That bastard deserved everything he got! I’m glad he’s dead because I may not have been the first woman he’s attacked - maybe there’s loads of women out there who are too frightened to tell on him in case he finds them and kills them because I saw the look in his eyes when he got me down on that ground and I knew I had to give in to him or die where I lay!”
“Calm down, Miss Gallagher!” he said firmly as the female officer finally got her to sit back down, but the feeling of anger inside her would not cease and her body trembled as she had flashbacks of looking up at him while he was attacking her.
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Chantelle continued, “I did not kill that bastard, but if I was given the chance to I would gladly take it just to see him suffer for what he put me through.”
“So there was someone else in the alleyway with you?” the younger man asked, finally coming to life instead of looking like a dummy in a window display.
“Someone certainly picked him up from on top of me. He must have been one hell of a strong man because my attacker was powerful enough to keep me down on the ground and whoever lifted him off me did it with great ease.”
“Did you get a glimpse of him? Can you describe him to us?” the older man asked excitedly.
“From where I was lying and with what was going on, I never managed to get a good look at him. It was almost as if he was a shadow, dressed completely in black, but I never got to see his face.”

The two men looked disappointed at her last statement and looked at each other before they were disturbed by the cell door opening again and they all watched as a police officer entered holding a piece of paper which he promptly gave to the older man before leaving the cell, closing the door as he left.

The two men read what was written on it and once again looked at each other, but this time their expressions showed signs of confusion.
“What does that piece of paper say?” Chantelle asked, but her question wasn’t answered by either of them, but counteracted with another question.
“When your alleged attacker was lifted off you,” the older man asked again with an air of impertinence, “are you absolutely positive it was a man that did so?”
“The shape of the body was definitely not a woman’s if that’s what you mean.” Chantelle answered, slightly confused by the question.
“It was definitely not an animal of any kind whatsoever?” he asked again.
“What do you mean?” Chantelle was now not slightly but totally confused by the questions, but continued, “the shape and characteristics was definitely that of a man and a strong one at that too. He threw my attacker against the wall behind me and walked over to pick him up again.”

It was at this point that she remembered seeing him hold her attacker around the neck.
“I definitely know it was a man,” Chantelle recalled, “because I looked into his eyes.”
“I beg your pardon?” the young man asked.
“When he lifted my attacker off the ground after throwing him against the wall, he looked me in the eyes. That’s the last thing I remember because I think I passed out straight after that. The next thing I remember was opening my eyes alone with the body next to me, looking up at two policemen who arrested me straight afterwards. That is honestly everything that I can remember of what happened.”

The two men knew that whatever path of questioning they chose to continue with, their chief witness couldn’t tell them any more information whatsoever.

The copy of the coroner’s report handed to them had revealed that the victim may have been killed almost certainly by the force of the impact when he was thrown against the wall, but puncture wounds to the neck of the corpse were discovered and in the coroner’s opinion, they were made by very long and sharp teeth similar to those of an animal as no human could possibly leave teeth marks like that.

The coroner had indeed chosen to take the easy way out to save professional face, and had decided to blame the attack on an animal rather than make himself look ‘crazy’ by revealing his initial and correct assumption that the body he had examined earlier was the victim of a real-life vampire attack.

Whatever it was that took his life away from him, they were still no closer to catching the killer and the older man turned to Chantelle and spoke.
“Thank you very much Miss Gallagher for your help. WPC Litten will stay with you for a few moments while we organise the return of your personal items, after which you are free to leave.”

And as he finished, the two men turned and knocked the cell door which promptly opened and they left without saying another word.

Chantelle gave out a sigh of relief and sat back a little more relaxed, waiting with the female officer to be let back out into the free world again.