When the Sun Goes Down

To my left, hundreds of papers recalling the date that people had gone missing. To my right, thirteen papers stating the persons were found dead or alive. Louisiana was the one state where anyone could disappear. They could take a wrong turn in the swamps and kiss the hundreds of trees and bushes around them. Some dare to step out of their boat and are greeted by the dulled, but dangerous, teeth of the crocodile. It was hard to pinpoint a certain area where these people had been taken to. I wiped down my reddened eyes and slammed my fists on my desk.

I always hated running on no sleep. I was working on low fumes and no amount of coffee or energy drinks would keep me awake. I pulled my chocolate locks into a pony tail and yawned into my hands. I rested my elbows on the table after scrunching up my long sleeves, just to sip at my cold coffee. I swallowed hard, scrunching up my nose and growing disgusted. I slammed down the cup, feeling the cold dark drink spill over my hands. I wiped it down on my pants and looked over at the stacks of papers on my desk. Things were just going to get worse.

The creaking of my office door brought me to my senses and I found the Commisioner standing in the hall. I smiled weakly before leaning back in my seat. The Commisioner was a man of power here at Louisiana’s Police headquarters, but deep down inside he was a gentle giant. He pressed a rough hand to my shoulder, signaling he was concerned. In a rough voice, used to years upon years of smoking, he said, “It’s been almost a month, Adrienne. Why don’t you head home and take a break?”

“You know I hate leavin' without finishin' a case, Don.”I opened my top drawer, finding my hidden pack of cigarettes.

“It’s resolved to smoking.”He pulled away from me and dug his hand into his inside pocket.”But I’ll join you.”

Upon lighting my cigarette, Don held a light to the tip of his cigar. He puffed gently at it, smiling weakly down at me. He had been correct with how long this missing persons’ case had taken me, but I couldn’t just walk away. It was not an ordinary case. A man disappears within a blink of an eye, leaving his wife and two children at home, wondering and worrying about his whereabouts. Two weeks later a man is found in the deep swamps of Louisiana, eyes rolled to the back of his head, chanting words unknown to our english ears.

A man lie to the side, mutilated beyond belief, but still alive. The dark lips of this man had been torn back, like someone had sliced him with a steak knife. The skin peeled back to his ear, revealing a false set of molars and neglected teeth. Large penetrations marked his stomach and sides, allowing for his stained pink insides to spill out and dance across the dust ridden floors. The officials didn’t know how to come about the situation, so they went with how they were trained. One of the men shouted for the two to freeze, to kneel upon them and press their collused hands to the back of their head.

But these men were not used to such hostile situations. The man who’s breath whispered chants of the unknown fell to the side, choking on what seemed like his own breath. The other man who leaned against the poorly made wall only smiled, showing off his blood kept mouth and decayed eyes. As he took a stand, the officers’ shouted their commands once more. When the man didn’t cooperate, they fired, hitting the man in the upper thigh and left shoulder. They were shocked when he didn’t fall to the ground, groaning in agony, allowing them to arrest him properly.

He kept moving, but not at a slow pace. Within a few strides he was beside the men, cupping the first officer’s chin with such force, his nails pierced his clean shaved skin. He opened his mouth, slime, drool and blood dripping from his chapped lips. The officer pushed and pleaded, but the man bit down on his head, letting a loud crack to echo into the one room home. The other officer screamed in fear, watching as his comrade was eaten alive. If he had radioed for help, it would be too late for the both of them.

The first officer’s screams fell silent against the assailant’s clawing and bone crunching bites. Shock and fear fell over the other officer, refusing to allow him to move. He stood still, watching as the man gorged himself on the insides of his dead partner. The other man, who fell flat against the floor crawled to a sitting position. His eyes seemed to have sunk back into the hollows of his head, but still formed a grim and evil smirk. With a low, deep whisper, he said, “Run. Make my creations known.”

His heart heaved and pushed dangerously against his chest, making movement almost impossible. His eyes scanned the room as he slowly reached for his glock. His hand cupped it softly, his finger tracing the trigger. In a swift hand movement, he pointed the gun down at the man who made his partner dinner. He shook and gasped, unsure on how this beast would go down. He took two gunshot wounds already and he didn’t even flinch. The last officer backed up against the wall, aiming the gun in shaking hands at the man.

His thumb ran along the safety, pushing it off in a split second. The swamp fell silent against multiple gunshots that night, eventually killing both the men who found the event amusing. The officer refused to tell the rest of the story that night, but he did leave the police force for something more appealing to him. No one told him this job would be easy, but he had to expect the dangers and scares. As for the man who had disappeared, his remains had been found in that hut, scattered along their creaky wooden floors.

I wiped my face down with my hands, not hesitating to steal another pull of my cigarette. Don squeezed my shoulder before heading toward my office door. He stopped before reaching for the door knob, smoke rising from a smile pressed against his lips. With a soft chuckle, he said, “Take the week, Adrienne. I’m sure your case will be here when you get back. You’ve been wanting to see your mother anyway. It’ll be good for you, trust me.”

Before he shut the door all the way, he peeked in once more. He added with force in his voice, “That’s an order. Tell your mama I said hi when you visit.”

I looked down at my cigarette, finding it singe and crawl down toward the filter. I was never much of a smoker, but when cases got stressful, it seemed to add a temporary fix for me. I opened my drawer and put it out in a perfectly clean, unused ashtray. I stood from my chair and grabbed my things before heading out the door. Taking a break sounds so good at the moment. I was nearly at a breaking point and I know these cases wont end well if I don’t do something about it. My mother lived farther north in Boston, where I could get away from the line of work.

As I made my way toward the car, I thought carefully on Officer Jame’s story. The rest of the story was left to our imaginations, but even though he claimed Officer Toole to be dead, he never mentioned shooting him. If my theory goes correct, that bullet hole in his head was from Officer James. I opened up my car door, but didn’t start it quite yet. If he had been eaten alive, why the need for the bullet? It was instant death when the assailant bit down on his skull, cracking it open forcefully. Then again, what human had the strength to do that?

“I need a break.”I started up my car and headed home.

I could always think about the case during the plane ride to Boston.

“Mama, here I come.”I smiled.