Memories Long Buried Part I

“What?”, Cal grumbled sleepily. She hated being woken up, especially at 8 a.m., after she had spent the previous night partying until the sun had come up. “And a very good day to you too”, came the cheery voice from the other side of the line. Cal fought the urge to roll her eyes, because he couldn’t see her anyways and her head hurt so much she tried to avoid even the smallest movements.

“Fuck you, Theo”, she replied. “It’s way too early for you to be this chipper.”

“And your hangover probably doesn’t help you tolerate my good mood”, he shot back. Cal could practically see him grinning before her inner eye. How did he even know that? She was normally pretty good at hiding her hangovers…

“Well it’s my day off. What I do is none of your fucking business.”

“Not anymore, I’m sorry.”

Cal’s alcohol-muddled brain felt like it was a thousand miles behind. “What are you talking about?”, she asked while fumbling in her nightstand drawer for an aspirin. “It’s not your day off anymore. Boss wants you at a crime scene. Apparently it’s important, I don’t know any more details than that.”

Cal let out a string of colourful curses that would make her mother faint and then pushed herself into a sitting position. She didn’t like it, but if the police captain gave you an order you followed it, no questions asked and no matter that you felt like someone had stabbed hundreds of needles into your head.

An hour later, Cal arrived at the location Theo had texted her. It was already swarmed with police officers and curious passers-by, trying to catch a peak at the murder victim. Sick people. As Cal walked towards the crime scene, her captain was already waiting for her. He looked serious. Not a good sign.

“Sir”, Cal addressed him with a nod. She still felt like crap, but the cold shower and double espresso had made her at least somewhat functional. “Cal, thank you for coming. I wouldn’t have asked you here if it wasn’t important. In fact, I wish you didn’t have to come here at all. But I think you would want to know.”

“What’s going on?”, Cal asked. She didn’t like to beat around the bush as it was, but her captain was acting weird and she felt wariness creeping in. He sighed. “Follow me.”

He led her to the crime scene, and once they passed the last line of officers, it felt as if Cal’s heart stopped for a second. There, lying on the ground, was a young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, with dark black hair and tan skin. Her blue eyes were looking up unseeing into the sky. But that was not what had horrified Cal.

The woman was wearing a ballgown, a dark red dress with bows at the sides and a skirt consisting of multiple layers. Her exposed throat showed a thin red gash where it had been cut in one clean slice, with dried drops of blood on her skin that were the colour of the dress.

Cal’s knees almost gave out, and all she could do was stare at this image before her and whisper: “He’s back.”