The light brilliantly reflected off of his immaculate white morgue overalls and further enhanced its illuminating effect upon his immediate surroundings, uncomfortably sealing his grey suit and tie within its protective embrace. The entire morgues greenish tinged stone floor pleasantly accommodated both the walled lights and the many sealed body chambers which so liberally lined the walls with their silently macabre presence. Only one of these macabre chambers was open within the barley lit shadows at the back of the silent room and it unusually did not contain its usual fleshy dead contents or even a recently unknown decapitated victim of the infamous Mad Butcher.
It simply contained Gerber’s famous Gladstone leather bag which had been opened and was currently empty, devoid of any of the surgical autopsy equipment that he had always stated that it religiously contained. It simply contained a well-padded and empty chamber which contents had long since been removed by its owner and taken elsewhere within the sealed four walled chamber of death. An icy cold air rapidly flowed out of this open chambers refrigerated interior which created an unnaturally gentle wind that echoed around the lonesome room. This coldly refrigerated unnatural wind then rattled the open chambers rickety steel framed bed, shaking the well-kept leather Gladstone bag upon it and causing it to vibrate ever so slightly.
The preoccupied Gerber then momentarily broke his keenly analytical gaze upon his morbid curiosity and looked towards the rattling steel bed frame, noticing that it was not another figment of his wild imagination but simply the natural element of wind that had invaded his solitary sanctum. His sturdy wooden chair made no sound as he slightly leaned back on it because it had been blissfully purged of all sounds due to the skilled craftsmanship of the noted refined producer of art deco furniture whom created it. Any miniscule sound, no matter how small it was, would always alarm the reclusive coroner because it usually was his morgue’s natural way of warning him of arriving and alive company that he would soon be entertaining.
After this momentary pause whereby he silently listened for any other signs of life and thankfully heard none, he then eagerly returned to his ever intensive analysis of the mysterious postal find which now lay upon his well-lit autopsy table in all its gruesome glory. The strangely odd curiosity was about the size of a ten year old child and was mainly created from a heavy plastic substance that he had yet to identify. It had real elements of real physical physiology skilfully crafted into this plastic and fabric frame which made the macabre creation that much more sinister in appearance and created a presence of foreboding within any investigator.
The cotton like covering that thinly coated most of the small body gave it a rough texture which was harsh to the touch and caused some irritation to the skin, causing the careful Gerber to glove his overly sensitive hands. The shrunken head was created from a real human skull and also had the real individuals darkly coarse hair still linked to the scalp, reminiscent of many of the native islanders whom had long ago perfected this skilled religious and ritualistic practice. Its solidly yellow enamel teeth where still showing through the worn human flesh and gave the impression that the unwitting head donator of the corpse-like-figure was of natural Asian or perhaps Native American ancestry. It had no eyes because the valuable soft tissue had long since decomposed due the unskilled form of embalming that the crude creator had practiced and its nose had also long ago eroded and vacated its now troublingly hideous face. Its overly long humanoid hands still retained their original bones within in its crudely fashioned fabric exterior, appearing to clench a sightless object that had long ago disappeared. Its sexual organs where that of a well-endowed male that had long ago since shrunken to its now limited size, still silently expressing its impressive natural gift that had long since been embalmed.
This had caused the rather repulsed Gerber to eliminate the uncomfortable sight by concealing it with a small brown handkerchief which was tied tightly around the curiosities waist. The most peculiar and strange addition to this bizarrely odd creation was the hoof like feet that where skilfully incorporated into the human part of its physiology, instantly giving the viewer the impression that it was a human beast hybrid that had stepped out of a long forgotten fairy tale. These hooves looked to be that of a small donkey or possibly even a lama and gave the already peculiar object a sinister quality of a devilish appearance which just lacked the horns upon its shrunken skull and the tail at its rear.
Gerber even amusingly theorised that the sightless object that had long ago vacated its hands was that of a pitchfork, thus completing its devilish design. The knowledgeable Gerber had long ago visited the circus on a number of separate occasions and had seen many very similar creations that lined the exhibit walls of curiosities. These morbid galleries would always charge a small fee to the curious public to have the privilege of viewing these gruesome hybrid creations and preyed upon people’s limited knowledge of the world around them by claiming that they were real. These morbid circus creations would then further be fraudulently enhanced by the clever adding of a blatantly false story about their troubling creation, igniting the fiery imagination of many a young viewer with lurid and thrilling stories about their untrue past.
These testaments of lies would almost always give an immense shock to any naive onlooker and the preoccupied Gerber then recalled that he was one of their young victims years ago at the Euclid Beach Amusement Park. His malleably rampant imagination had ran away with him when he was a child upon reading such alluring tales which drastically affected his unconscious psyche and even subversively manipulated him in to choosing his current career path. Now it appeared that he had ironically come full circle in his life as he now faced this sightless morbid curiosity which strangely pulled his thoughts about escapism back to there origin. His escapism was his naturally evolved long term defence mechanism to avoid the troubles of his parents deteriorating marriage because he could spend hours within his isolated room and imagine that he was someplace else whilst his parents relentlessly argued.
He would often imagine himself investigating some lost prehistoric world or travelling to the far flung uncharted regions of outer space on some fantastic voyage reminiscent of his favourite Flash Gordon inspired stainless steel rocket ride at the Euclid Beach Amusement Park. These elaborate fantasies would ultimately consume him within an endless oasis of relaxation and preoccupation and he would effortlessly drift into the darkly macabre world of forensics science because he relished being surrounded by the harmless dead. This was because he found that the cruel living world, such as where his constantly in conflict parents resided, had always protested about his unique absentmindedness or bizarre flights of fancy.
This isolating life appealed to him more because it fed his wanting desire to become a hero within his own eyes, a hero like he was on his many elaborate swashbuckling fantasies which also conveniently allowed him to hide from the society which had manifested his blighted parents and scared him. In a way he was still running away from his long since deceased parent’s troubles even now as he surveyed the gruesomely morbid curiosity that lay before his beckoning eyes, blessing him with the gift of raw escapism so that he would not have to dwell on his own troublesome past.
As he was silently analysed the morbid curiosity even closer, three large glass bell jars where directly adjacent to the morbid curiosities hooves and each one contained the gruesomely dismembered head one of the Mad Butchers victims. The three prominent unsealed jars had been long ago been carefully labelled accordingly and contained the formaldehyde smelling and cold heads of some of the most famed victims of the gruesome killer. All these heads where bizarrely facing the newly acquired morbid curiosity in an almost otherworldly viewing spectacle that could only have been achieved within the dark humoured mind of the strangely ghoulish Gerber.
The handsome Tattooed Man’s fresh head still retained its distinctively sleeping looking appearance and it was as if the legendary photos of him within the white towel had only been taken yesterday. His face still reta
ined its good looks from life and all of his muscular facial tendons still tremendously withheld the decomposition process, as did his thick hair, undoubtedly due to the invaluable help of Gerber’s skilled abilities. Next to his glass bell jar was that of the infamous womaniser and charlatan Edward Andrassy whose lesser fresh head looked slighted more withered compared to that of his handsome colleague, but was still in relatively good condition since the tragic day that he had been discovered at the base of Jackass hill. His flamboyant hair still looked impressive but elements of his formerly handsome face had long ago rotted away with more prevalence than the blessed Tattooed Man.
Andrassy still however commanded respect from any on looker whom took the time to look at him in detail because his facial muscles and eyes where all still present and accounted for, once again showing the natural defiance of the troubled womanising charlatan even in death. Both of these men where handsome in life and would have had many female and male admirers at their beckoning call but in death the Tattooed Man won the beauty contest hands down due to his noticeably more well preserved facial features. Both these handsome heads where a far cry from the final dismembered head which had long ago succumbed to the harsh elements in its natural surroundings and decomposed before its eventual discovery. A majority of its fresh flesh had long ago been replaced by the partly rotten and putrefying remains of what used to be a humanoid face and its balding head still stubbornly resisted glistening under the light of Gerber’s illuminated table. Its soft tissue eyes had long ago been eaten by predators before its initial discovery location at the base of Jackass Hill and his lips had also long ago been destroyed by nature’s natural processes of decomposition.
The bell jar that contained this last and most macabre head had been mysteriously originally labelled “John Doe 1” but had since been scratched out and hastily relabelled “Chatterbox” along with a smiley face under it in the distinctively unique handwriting of Gerber. This final bell jar’s long dead head then shockingly and angrily moaned at the preoccupied Gerber, causing the morgue tables steel frame to vibrate but not appearing to startle the calm coroner whom actively attempted to ignore this familiar morbid auditory disturbance.
After a few more moaning attempts by the vibrating Chatterbox to hopefully get the preoccupied Gerber’s desperately desired attention, Andrassy and the Tattooed Man both shockingly opened up their eyes and keenly surveyed the morbid sight of Gerber examining his peculiar postal find. All three cold and damp formaldehyde smelling damp heads now simultaneously twitched and moved there facial muscles within their separate glass jars, keen to stretch their long rested tendons that now constituted there entire body. The apparently alive Andrassy then turned his half decomposed eyes to look at the adjacent Tattooed Man whom in turn looked at him, before Andrassy rolled his eyes in irritation at Chatterbox’s distinctly familiar groaning.
He then voiced his concern to the actively ignoring Gerber as his distinctively degraded vocal cords made him sound like a lifelong heavy smoker “Gerber! Gerber! I think our friend here Chatterbox wants to get your unequivocal attention! Gerber are you listening to me? What the hell is that thing!? Ewwwe! What is it? It’s disgusting!” The irritated Gerber then spoke whilst he continued to actively study his Mad Butcher’s mail present that he assumed constituted a morbidly grim joke that was aimed at himself “This, my three ghoulish friends, is the Mad Butcher’s latest practical joke and this time it was aimed at none other than myself! He’s enjoying playing these macabre mind games with the authorities just like he did when he left the Tattooed Man’s decapitated body directly outside the Nickle Plate police building and also when he left Ness those two frozen bodies within eyesight of his office. I’m just the next target in his long line of grim amusements!”
The Tattooed Man then knowingly nodded in agreement as he looked at Andrassy upon hearing of his own tragically fateful find by the train tracks and then joined in the conversation with his distinctly surprising Cajun accent “Yeah! He’s playing the authorities for fools and you know what’s really strange about this whole situation is how we all can’t seem to recall our past lives to help out poor old Gerber here with his investigation. I mean we’ve been with you for how long now? Geez! It feels like forever and we all still can’t just move on or find out about who we were and…” The rude Andrassy then interrupted the saddened looking and sensitive Tattooed Man because he was tired of his constant reminiscence which would ordinarily mean he would start crying at any moment now “Oh god! Please spare us the water works again! All three of us are in the same situation here! All we know about you is that you’re from the south with an accent like that, you had a particular fondness for tattoos and adore that stupidly childish cartoon character Jiggs! From what I gather I was a real Casanova in my previous life, a real heart throb and heartbreaker! A real…”
The mumbling Chatterbox then interrupted him with his familiar incomprehensible gibbering and Andrassy curiously looked at him with his suspicious eyes as the Tattooed Man translated his words for him with immense amusement, instantly lifting his sour spirits “Asshole! He said you were a real asshole! Hahaha!” The irritated Andrassy then angrily grinded his teeth together before he then harshly spoke at his fellow victim whom was found on the same day of his own discovery at the base of Jackass Hill “Well! At least I still have a face and at least people know who I am! I mean who are you two anyway?! One things for sure Chatterbox, you’ll never pick up a chick again with a face like that man! Hehe! Only a mother could love that ugly mug of yours! Hahaha! Shame they didn’t find you sooner like me and talking of which, Gerber! I’m tired of spending all day sealed up with these two jerks within that accursed Gladstone bag of yours! It’s beneath me, truly it is! Are you listening to me?! Gerber?!”
The now highly irritated Gerber then paused his detailed analysis of the curiosity and slowly took off his spectacles as he wearily sighed and rubbed his tired eyes, allowing a blissfully serene silent moment to slowly calm his agitatedly heightened nerves. He momentarily considered once again flooding each of the glass bell jar’s with the blissfully muffling preservative formaldehyde in order to silence the three squabbling head’s but then decided against it as he reluctantly spoke, feeling sorry for the three victims whom he had become strangely accustomed too “I have conveniently allowed all three of you out so that you could possibly help me identify this particularly curious item and perhaps, if it has indeed been sent by the Mad Butcher himself, possibly even help you all recall your own past lives. Over the years we’ve all got to know each other very well and I’ve always asked you all for each of your individual opinions upon each unsolved murder whilst at the crime scenes but I see now that showing you this curiosity was a mistake because you’re all simply acting like you always do, bickering little children! Now I’m not a professional within the spiritual realm but I still cannot understand why you all still refuse to leave this world and go on to the next one and even though we have all tried a variety of bizarre methods to push you all onto the other side, it is still my expert opinion that this entire macabre situation will only be resolved upon finding the culprit responsible for your murders! Now as for you all travelling with me within my Gladstone bag? Well! Consider yourselves lucky that I take you three anywhere because many others would either just bury you six feet under in the ground or have themselves committed into a sanatorium! And believe me I’ve given the latter a lot of thought recently!”
The annoyed Gerber had always been reluctant to talk to anyone about his morbidly special ability to speak with the unsettled dead because he could simply not explain this gift to a rational mind. He did not fully understand it himself anyway because he could never appear to select whom he spoke too because the dead were particularly fussy over contacting the living. Usually a willing dead victim of a crime would tell him what had occurred and he could close the case quickly, which is why he had been so successful in his career, but these heads irritatingly could not recall either there past liv
es or the person whom murdered them. This irritating fact had forced the contemplative coroner to determine that the Mad Butcher was obviously of otherworldly origin, due to these spiritual inconsistencies, and that capturing him would require an altogether different approach.
These three particular heads had spoken to him at each of the crime scenes but he would always wisely keep such troubling observations to himself for fear of ridicule or possible dismissal due to obvious signs of mental illness. He knew these where not just figments of his wild imagination but actually true spiritual manifestations which he had always valued but having three such irritating heads whom constantly argued around him and clashed with their differing personalities was pushing even the limits of his substantial patience. The silent and guilty feeling three heads then curiously looked at Gerber’s morbid curiosity that gruesomely lay across from them as the attentive Gerber then lifted it up upon seeing their interest in helping him.
The attentive coroner then leaned back slightly so that they could all get a better view of it as he secretly hoped that some revelation would finally emerge from one of their dead lips. Both the intently determined looking Andrassy and Tattooed Man looked at it for a while as the eyeless Chatterbox simply grumbled to himself, having no eyes in which to view the postal find and simply moaning about the harshness of the afterlife’s cruel game. After a long while Andrassy was about to say something, luring in the attentive Gerber to wait upon his every potential word in eager anticipation, until he disappointingly closed his mouth before then opening it again. This disappointing roller-coaster of prolonged anticipation before disappointment continued for a few torturous seconds as the scheming Andrassy was enjoying having such a skilled and emotionally physical effect upon the desperate coroner without even having a body. He treated the entire investigation as a grim joke because he did not wish to move on into the afterlife for fear of what maybe awaiting him and was adamant to make all life around him as uncomfortably miserable as he was.
The Noir Evil Page 45