The Basement

​"What's the situation?" I asked the officer.
The fat man seemed confused, but then his expression turned sour.
"Isn't that your job, detective?" he muttered.
"Did you forget that I outrank you?"
His friend stopped him before he could say what he really wanted to say.
"Sorry, sir. He has just seen enough horror today. Describing it isn't high priority," The calmer officer replied.
I pulled him aside and told him to explain if his friend couldn't. He sighed and agreed.

​Four dead, none of them related, but everyone between the ages of twenty five and thirty. Each and everyone were shot, shotgun wounds, yet there weren't any reports of gunshots despite it being an occupied neighborhood. When the officer finished explaining I already came to some conclusions. It was simple enough for me to imagine what these kinds of people did. There are many ways to mask a gunshot, but a shotgun is difficult.
One, if the victims weren't related by blood, they were related by circumstance. They were involved in something they shouldn't have been. Secondly, if gunshots weren't heard, then either they were shot with a silencer equipped to the weapon, highly doubtful considering it was a shotgun, or, they were killed somewhere else and brought here to hide. That was most likely.
Not necessarily far however, it is highly possible that the victims were killed somewhere in the neighborhood. I walked into the building and the bodies were already bagged. I suppose it was the fat officers call, but it was against code. I didn't mind, there comes a time where its better to wait for the doctors to decide what happened to them. Instead I examined the house. It was empty, but not up for sale. It was most likely abandoned or one of the victims owned it. Either way it was abandoned now. It was well cleaned, no signs of anything faulty or old. In fact, it seemed that for an empty house it was well looked after. We were looking into who owned it as I checked it out.
I had a heavy feeling that there was more to it than just a few bare rooms and bloodstains on the floor where the victims were dragged. I walked towards a closed door that two more officers were trying to get into. One leaned against the wall while the other fiddled with the lock using a special kit. I waited while he worked and soon the door swung open. The spectator clapped softly and nodded. The two soon noticed me and nodded in greeting.
"Nice work," I said walking through the door.
The door led to a set of stairs that ran in a spiral, descending into the basement. As suspected. This was no doubt the place where the victims were killed, a basement, even without padding, is basically soundproof once the door is shut. If the killer wanted to he could have them screaming for days before putting them out of their misery. I hate to think that's actually what he did. I highly doubted the killer or killers transported four victims to dump them in a busy suburb. Eventually someone was going to smell the deceased.
The basement was as bare as the upper rooms, save for two cupboards against one wall. Seeing nothing else to examine I walked towards them. Opening the doors of one I saw that it was empty. Feeling hopeful I checked the next. Empty as well, but something caught my eye. A brass button hidden in the upper corner of one of its drawers.
"Huh, is this Narnia?" I muttered pressing the button.
A back panel dropped and slid into a thin trench in the cement with a loud thunk. Almost like a guillotine dropping its blade. Wary of this I began to observe my surroundings for anything dangerous. The hidden room wasn't so bare. There were tables, some surgical, and side tables covered in metal instruments. There were shelves against the walls lined with books that were thicker than bricks. Finally, the shotgun amongst pools of blood. I found the murder weapons and place of death. Whoever the killer/s weren't here now, but they left enough evidence around for me to track them down. Whiteboards kept my attention as I paced the room. Most were covered with calculations and strange symbols I've never seen used in math, but one had a simple sentence.
"They will wake up."
A proper lunatic alright. Sickened enough by the smell of blood and exited the basement. There weren't any officer inside, but I could hear their voices outside. I was about to leave when I noticed the body bags were missing. The officers cleaned up fast. A dark thought hit me. I walked outside and spoke to the fat officers friend. He was a tall man, sturdy looking, no doubt a beat cop. At least when I talked to him I got the information I was looking for anyway. Not many people were happy to have me as a detective considering most of the force applied to become one and I showed up out of nowhere and took the job right from under their noses.
"Where are the body bags?" I asked one.
"What body bags?" He replied.
My jaw clenched and heart rate sped up. There is no end...a strange, irrational feeling bubbled up inside me for a moment, but it vanished when a grin grew on the officers face.
"Nah, I'm just messing with you," the officer smiled. "They're in the van, ready to be transported to the morgue."
Everybody is a comedian, even in times like these. However, I found myself laughing.
"Good, you had me going there for a second," I replied with a slight smirk.
That's when a man clambered out of the van covered in blood only to be jumped on by four corpses who proceeded to devour him. All the officers looked on, with their heads cocked to one side. I scratched my head and that irrational feeling was made manifest.
"Huh."