The hard, cold cement that rested beneath me was the first object to register in my mind. The second was the throbbing pain radiating from my left temple. I feebly lifted my left hand to the source of the pain, flinching at the faintest touch. I let my hand drop back onto the stiff floor, not that I had a choice. Every time I tried to move any part of my body, it felt like a hundred needles stabbing me all over. I had to try and gain back control of my body. I refuse to just succumb to the pain and ache. I had to try and stay focused with the dilemma at hand. First being trying to figure out what the hell happened.
I remember getting a call about a tip for a case I was assigned to. It was actually my second case as a detective. My first was an abduction case turned murder. Three victims all together. The case turned cold after 1 ½ years working it. There's not really much to say. We never caught the guy responsible and I blamed myself. I spent two months drowning my sorrows in my shitty rundown apartment, but then I got this case. At the time, my partner and best friend, Henry Bishop, and I were working the night shift, a little welcome back gift from my Captain.
Henry was a bit older than me and always serious. You could see it in the way he walked and carried himself that he has had his fair share of action. Everyone around the precinct loved him though. When I lost hope for the case and refused any help, he pulled me out of my depression and helped me get my life back together. He, more or less, saved my life.
After a few months of tiny cases here and there we finally got this one. This was my new chance to redeem myself and show everyone at the precinct why I deserve the title detective.
Someone was stealing cars from an upper-class district during the night. The person who called in with the tip said he saw someone trying to hot wire a silver Bentley Continental GT in the same neighborhood. The model of the car was one that was on our hot list, so of course I had to check this out quickly. The tipper didn't give his name, which was unfortunate because there was a reward for information leading to the arrest of the suspect. He also did not say why he was in that neighborhood at all hours of the night. Of course, it makes sense now in my new predicament.
I remember taking the call and going to the scene where the supposed car was being stolen. Henry didn't come with me because just that night we got almost a hundred different tips that either led us to drunken teenagers who loved to prank call the police or nothing. I didn't think this tip was any different, so I let Henry stay behind.
"You're the best kiddo." I can hear him saying as I walked out of the office. He was the last person I spoke to until I got to the "scene of the crime."
I remember seeing the car with someone in the driver's seat. I immediately called for backup and drew my weapon from its holster.
"Police! Step out of the vehicle with your hand above your head." I said it loud enough and with enough force for the shadow in the car to hear me, but not too loud. I didn't want to wake anyone in the surrounding houses up because than that would draw in a crowd and the one thing people love more than their fancy cars are watching criminals get gunned down by the police right in front of them. It truly does amaze me how the human mind works sometimes.
The shadow in the car didn't even stir. I moved in closer for a better look. The black mass still didn't move. That's when a couple drips of dark liquid on the ground near the door of the car caught my eye.
Blood, I thought to myself. This can't be good. Where the hell was my backup?
I steadily walked forward until I was standing right in front of the car door. I realized the car was actually on. Damn, that's a really quiet engine. I should really get me a car like this, I thought to myself and then chuckled at the thought of a cop driving a nice car like this around town.
I looked around and saw no signs of forced entry into the car, but I wasn't going to take a chance. "Police. Take the keys out of the ignition and step out of the vehicle with your hands up." No movement came from the shadow which looked a little slump, so I extended my arm and pulled the door open. The body of a well known physician fell to my feet with god knows how many stab wounds covering his remains. There were even a couple of abrasions on the poor guys face. Talk about overkill. Whoever did this must have really hated him. I immediately kneeled down and checked for a pulse already knowing the answer. Dead.
Crap, what the hell is going on?
Suddenly, a new scent filled the air and just as I turned around to find the source, a wooden bat connected to the side of my head.
That explains the severe pain to the head, I reflected.
My gun flew out of my hand, a few feet away. I scrambled to get it, but whoever this guy was, he was quicker. He grabbed my ankle and pulled me back with an adequate amount of force to bring his feet to my gut. I went to lift my body up when a fist hit my face and body several times. I barely had time to take a breath, he just kept punching me. My body swiftly turned into survival mode. He put a warm hand around my throat and started squeezing. My body started spasming and I just started kicking and throwing punches at any part of him I could reach. All my police teaching just went out the window. Police sirens broke the silence. I tried to talk, to say anything that would distract him from his goal to kill me. I could hear the sirens getting closer. If I could just stall him for a few moments longer.
"D-don't" I said in more of a gasp than a voice. He just looked at me and his lips twisted into a sadistic smile.
No use. I started seeing black spots in my vision. I tried fighting, but my body was down for the count. The last thing I remember was his voice saying something. So small I barely heard it.
"Sweet dreams, Detective."
"Well, this is a pretty shitty situation I'm in." I said to myself, hoping someone would hear me so I would know that I am not alone. I suddenly realized that I could use this alone thing to my advantage. I can look around for a way out. First I got to get my body up. I looked down at it. My nice blue shirt was anything but blue anymore and one of the top buttons was ripped off. My gun was, of course, not in the holster that was still strapped to my waist and my pants were pretty damn dirty. Not to mention all the cuts and deeply purple and blue bruises all over my body.
I leaned my body on my forearms and scanned the room. It was pretty small, the floor was concrete. There was a small cot folded up in the corner.
Why the hell am I on the floor if there is a cot right there? This guy beats me, then kidnaps me and doesn't even have the decency to put me on a bed instead of the hard floor. I shake my head of the thought and tried to stay on task.
There must be a God because I manage to get my body up into standing position.
Alright, I gladly think to myself.
I walk, somewhat stumbling, straight towards the only exit in this room; the door. While the door looked rather old, the knob and lock were definitely new. I grabbed the knob and started jiggling it to no avail. Locked obviously, but I start to hear something on the other side. A shuffle and then the door unexpectedly start to unlock. I back away to see my captors face, thinking maybe it's someone I know, but he has a mask on. He's about my height, 5'9 wearing just a plain t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He's holding a gun, my gun, in one hand and some sort of remote in the other.
I realize that I have my hands up as if he just said 'stick'um up', which he didn't. He just stares at me and then starts to smile.
"Ya know, if you keep smiling at me like that, I'm going to start to think you like me," I said trying to keep my voice steady. I have always been one for breaking the tension, so why not now. He evidently doesn't find it funny because he suddenly pushes the button and a sharp pain fills my head.
I fall to the floor with my hands on my head trying somehow to stop the pain. I grit my teeth and try not to scream. Don't give him what he wants. He wants you to scream like a little child, but you are not one. You are a police detective I can feel my eyes about to roll in the back of my head. Suddenly it stops and I'm on my back. I'm panting heavily. It's like I can't catch my breath. He's standing over me with the same cocky smile.
"No screams for me, Detective?" He asks calmly as though we are doing a business deal.
"Screw you" I say with what little strength I have. He just laughs in my face and presses the button. This time it works and all I see is darkness.