And now a description story, 'cause I don't know if you can have a big picture AND text (What are you , fancy? Go take your highfalutin nonsense to DA!)


Scene

Sergent Skate R. looked down at the broken form before him. The cleanup crew hadn't arrived yet and the scene was just as it had been discovered, earlier that morning. It was a mess, an utter and complete mess. Even though the morning air was brisk and chill he felt oddly overheated, trapepd in his clothes.

The death had been violent, the body had been broken clean in two like a dry twig. He didn't know what kind of force was required to do that to a living creature, or to toss the pieces about like confetti, but whatever had happened here hadn't been pretty. A crime of passion? Quite likely, but even then not the usual kind, there was a fury in this attack, a hatred. Was it racially motivated? The area had a dark and hidden past, buried and purposefully forgotten. Skate didn't want to make any judgements, but colour was always an issue.

'So who found the poor sod?'

'Bunch of kids out for an early morning walk.'

'Wow, nobody should have to see this, let alone kids.'

'It's a sick, sick world detective.'


He sighed and looked at his notes. Nearby the cleanup crew began taking pictures in preparation for moving the body. He hated cases like these. And so close to Easter weekend as well.