While I have always held a fascination for the mysteries of death and what lies beyond, the reality of its odor is something I can never quite acclimate to.
The room is steeped in shadows, creating a gloomy atmosphere that contrasts sharply with the incredibly rare ray of sunlight flooding in through the grimy, cracked windows.
The light spills across the floor, illuminating dust motes that dance lazily in the shafts of golden rays, yet it does little to dispel the sense of foreboding that lingers within the space.
If this scene isn’t the archetypal setting for a chilling murder mystery movie, then I don’t know what would be.
“What happened here, anyway?” I ask Jules curiously, who surveys the scene around us with a broad smile as if she were a child on Christmas morning.
Jules and I have always loved doom and gloom, so I had no problem taking this job with her.
Crime scenes fascinate me, just like death does. I’m the type of girl who falls asleep to horror movies and relaxes while watching murder documentaries.
Chunks of brain matter still sit splattered on the floor. Even though I should be mortified, I feel slightly excited with the thrill of this crime.
I know that’s messed up, but that’s me. I’m fucked up.
“I guess the father went cray cray and murdered his wife and son. He suspected she was cheating, so he shot her in their bed and then killed their son,” she points up the stairs, “and then he took his own life,” her hands dramatically gesture to my feet, where I stand on the blood-stained wooden floor.
“You’ll get used to it, Dani. We all do eventually,” Jules says as she nudges my shoulder.
“Please,” I say nonchalantly, attempting to mask my discomfort, “you know I have a penchant for crime. It’s just the odor that overwhelms me.”
“Danika, Julia! The floors aren’t going to clean themselves!” My eyes quickly dart at Spencer as he yells and walks up the stairs.
“I hate when he calls us by our full names. Makes me feel like a kid… I suppose you’ll say I’ll get used to him too?”
Jules laughs, “No, you will never get used to Spencer and his big ego. I swear, he thinks being Crime Scene Cleanup Supervisor makes him the most important person at any crime scene... I mean, for fuck’s sake, we are all here to be the clean-up crew.”
Yeah, I wasn’t ever going to get used to Spencer. I used to secretly want to fuck him because I enjoy having hate sex.Makes it more fun with zero connections afterwards. But after working with him these past few months, I loathe him.
Jules reaches out, her gloved hand grasping a sturdy scrub brush with worn bristles. Then she hands me a thick, dark biohazard bag; its warning symbols stand out sharply against the plastic surface. As she secures her mask tightly over her face, her eyes reveal a blend of determination and caution. I quickly mimic her movements, pulling the mask over my face, the faint scent of disinfectant filling the air around us.
I methodically scrub the blood-stained floor; my muscles ache with the effort. With each deliberate brush stroke, the rhythm resonates in the stillness, a haunting reminder of the tragedy that recently unfolded within these walls.
Time drifts by, and after painstaking effort, we have gathered the remnants of what occurred and meticulously restored the space to an almost serene state. It’s as if the ghosts of the past have been buried beneath layers of fresh paint and diligent cleaning, leaving no trace of the grim scene.
“Want to grab a drink after work? A few of us are going to go to that one Irish pub in town. Maybe we can find you a man?!” Jules wiggles her perfectly polished eyebrows and bats her thick eyelashes at me.
Jules is always trying to match me up with someone. I’m certainly not a prude, quite the opposite actually, but I’m also not really the relationship type. She has been my best friend for 24 years. When we were 7 years old, we became best friends after she pushed a boy that was picking on me off the balance beam on the playground. He had to get seven stitches and never fucked with me again.
“I don’t know, Jules. It’s the same people every night. Doesn’t that get tiring for you? I don’t know if I can handle one more drunk Devin getting into another bar fight. Or Lisacomplaining about her marriage. Or Brent going on and on about the ghosts in this town. But I’ll consider—” I stop talking and notice a small patch of blood on the corner of the floor that I missed.
Jules notices my gaze and goes to clean it up, but I place my hand on her shoulder and stop her. “I got it. It’s fine, really. This was my section, so I’ll finish it up.”
“You sure babe? I don’t mind.”
“Yeah, it’s fine, really! Plus, you already took off your gear, and I still have mine on. Go, I’ll be fine to finish up. I’ll text you when I’m leaving here, ‘kay?”
“Alright, if you say so.” Jules turns her head towards the front door as Destiny and a few others walk out, “I call shotgun, bitches!” Jules smiles and gives me a wink. “Text me as soon as you’re done! I know Carter will be excited if you come out tonight.”
Just like Jules, I’ve known Carter my whole life. Once, he and I kissed at a high school party as a dare, but it didn’t spark anything for me. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for him.
“I will. Promise.”
Jules is about to pinky-promise me, something we’ve done since we were kids, but she quickly stops when she realizes I still have my gloves on. “I’m holding you to that promise, babe!” she chirps, air-kissing me before heading out the door.
I release a long breath I didn’t realize I was holding and finish cleaning the one tiny spot I missed.
