Autopsy Of A Mind

The feeling of blood slowly dripping down my scalp made me comb my hand through my hair to check. It had been a feeling I had grown used to and sometimes just like the phantom dreams, the phantom pains from the past would haunt me.

I slid out of the mattress and padded my way to the shower. There was little light inside the room, and I soon realised that it was early in the morning. I had spent twenty-three hours trapped in a dream that I could recall like the back of my hand. It was a boon that it had come on a weekend and especially because I was stressed out because of the move.

The cold shower woke me up instantly. I opened my laptop and went on search of some freelance work that I could do in the meantime. It wasn"t long before I fell into my usual routine and worked through the night on inconsequential novels that needed translating.

.

A month pa.s.sed and I stayed clear of Sebastian"s home. He had often called on me to help him out with translation work he considered mind-numbing, but I had turned him down saying that it was going to take me some time getting used to the house and commuting to and from work.

He accepted my excuse graciously. He dropped by suddenly one Tuesday evening after I had come home and wanted to discuss something with me. It took me some time to convince him that going into my room would only perplex him and that it was too unclean for him to see. He knew I was lying, I didn"t make a big deal out of making myself sound convincing, but he took the excuse anyway. He gave me a great deal of leeway for someone so stubborn and hard-pressed.

Getting back to the story, he wanted to discuss if I wanted to stay over at his place while he left for some work for a couple of days. He would be spending two nights out of town on business and needed someone to look after his house. I didn"t know what exactly he needed me to do, but he did mention that Alec was not around much to help.

I reluctantly went over to his house as he explained what I needed to do.

I entered his home to find a cute fluffy ball running towards us. It was a black cat who liked to cuddle and rub its head against his feet. It was especially cute and I realised why he needed a sitter.

"Keep my baby girl in good shape." His voice was soft and sweet like honey. He produced a chart and showed me what I needed to do to care for the cat. For a cat so friendly, it needed company sleeping. It was scared of the dark and needed someone warm against her to make her feel secure. I didn"t care for animals much as they are too quick to die, but I felt a fondness for this cute ball of fur and took on the job.

I went over to his house on Thursday, when he was supposed to leave and started having a more active role in Sheng Sheng, the cat"s life. I fed it and got myself familiar with its habits as Sebastian packed.

I came across a case of files named "The Stone Man" and froze. I looked surrept.i.tiously at the man whose file it was and looked back at the records.

I was awfully enticed to take a peak. I knew that the killings of homeless men for years had been an unsolved serial crime case and none other than Sebastian Butler had finally cracked it. I had seen the name of the suspect all over the newspapers but had never thought about how those conclusions had come to be.

How did one figure out who the killer was?

"May I look at this file?" I said softly, pointing towards it. He nodded absentmindedly. I moved forward and sat down cross-legged in front of it. The file was littered with notes and pictures that would have made me cringe, but my curiosity got the better of me.

I gobbled down every little information I could.

[No blood at site, but the head wound shows that excessive external bleeding took place. Place of murder and finding the body are not the same.

Due to cold weather and snow, the victim was wearing heavy clothing which prevented the body from decaying and it being exposed to the animals hastened decomposition process.

Estimated time of death would be within four days of finding the body, excluding her from the suspect list.

The stone used to hit the homeless man should be big and matches other killings in the state: the serial killer that has returned—stone man. Copy cat killers as the crimes happened over forty years. The real killer would leave the body at the crime scene. The second one removed the body and transplanted it elsewhere, making a display of it.

Victim-Male. Homeless.

Killer: Hedonistic killer or thrill killer, desire to kill is central to the motive and not torture. Views them as undesirable per subhuman and deserving of death. The first killer was a missionary killer as he didn"t a.s.sociate with the victim as he hated them. He just killed them at the spot and left despite organising/disorganising every detail of the action. The second killer evolved his fantasy and is aware of his growing compulsion to kill. Gainfully employed as a skilled worker. Socialises with them and lures them. Well-off: car/wife/children. Changes jobs and cities to avoid being caught, unlike the first one who is solid in his geographic location. Uses resources available to him and later disposes of them after the murder.]

I looked up, confused. I could understand almost none of how the conclusions had come to be.

I had to find out.

"I don"t understand," I found myself saying to no one in particular. But there was only one other human in the apartment. He looked up from his packing and looked at the file in my hands.

"I don"t have the time to explain," he told me pointedly. "If you want, I can pick out a couple of basic books that you can read to find out the meaning." He didn"t say much after that.

He gave me three books that I knew I would definitely finish.

"Ask me if you need anything else," he told me politely before leaving.

I lay cuddled with Sheng Sheng for the next two days, feeding her and playing with her in between flipping through the pages of the book. I was absorbed.

I needed more.

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