Post Mortem

Post Mortem

Susan’s bladder quivered and she fought to control it before it unleashed a torrent down her leg. Her black stockings wouldn’t have hidden anything. It was a sheer struggle to maintain composure was shocking that she had little brain space to give to the totem that stood before her. 

Supposedly there was a human in there. Or what remained of a human. But someone or something had crafted those remains into an effigy. What wasn’t clearly human seemed to be stone or metal, maybe glass. Obsidian perhaps, Susan considered. 

It stood a silent sentinel in the middle of a warehouse. The lights on it harsh and deliberate, highlighting its isolation from the surrounding environment. Cables coiled out from the lights, giving the place the only sense of life Susan thought. Even the totem was too abstract, too artificial for the human aspects to feel natural. 

“It was just here?” Susan said as she stepped closer.

“No prints, no signs, no footage,” replied Chandler, Susan’s partner. She squatted by one of the lights. Her jeans stretched tight over her knees showed their wear and some of the dust from the warehouse floor. The only sign she was an agent was her jacket with her the obvious lettering, presumably her badge was somewhere otherwise Chandler would never have gotten in to begin with.

“Scans?”

“Waiting on the team.”

“So what set off the alert? Some kids breaking in for some nookie.”

“Hardly,” said Chandler, “and I don’t think they call it nookie anymore.”

“What do they call it then?”

“Probably just sex.”

“And they weren’t here for it?”

“Not really possible when it’s only one person.”

“They weren’t waiting for something?”

“Nah, just really into to abandoned buildings apparently. Was here to take pictures.”

“They get any of that?” Susan said indicating the totem.


Today’s art is courtesy of Karl Lindberg from San Francisco, USA.

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