At the station

Whatever drugs were in Todd’s system weren’t making him twitchy - that would be the understatement of the year. He was positively vibrating with whatever the hell was coursing through his veins. Everything was bright and loud. Some people and things seemed to move in slow-motion while others, for no reason Todd could come up with, seemed to move in fast-forward. To put it bluntly - Todd was tripping his balls off. 

He wasn’t sure of the day. He damn sure wasn’t sure of what time it was. And there was a nagging sense in the back of his brain that told him he wasn’t in Ohio anymore. The fact the signs weren’t written in English helped to back this last theory up. Well, that and the fact that everyone around him was shorter than him and lacked that clearly midwestern American look. 

“Holy shit, I’ve been kidnapped.” He blurted. 

“What?” Came a barking laugh from over his shoulder. Todd jumped at the sound. The voice was familiar, yet strange all at the same time. He turned to see a woman with bright, white hair that had been cropped short against her head. Her eyes were neon green and she had a tattoo running up her neck that coiled around her right ear. 

“I… uh…” Sweat poured down his body in the afternoon heat. “Where the fuck am I?” He finally managed. 

Her father's daughter - short story

It was the wind that bothered her most. It cut through the fabric of her clothing and clawed at her skin beneath. It made her feel the cold all the way to her bones. And she fucking hated being cold.

She wasn't sure why she was out here. Some misplaced sense of moral responsibility? Some life-debt to a man who kept betraying her trust again and again and again... She just couldn't fathom why she stood here, shoulder to shoulder with the three people she'd swore never to see again.

When the coroner moved the sheet and displayed the face, none of that mattered.

Paul's lifeless body looked up, cold, white, and lifeless from the edge of the field. He'd been stripped of every stitch of clothing. Bruises and scrapes marred his body from the neck down. She shook her head slowly from side to side as she looked at him. No, not him... his body. His empty shell of a body. Devoid of a soul now in death as his soul had been devoid of emotion in life. An empty shell that once housed an empty soul.

"Yeah." She finally said. "That's Paul Becker."
"You're sure."
"I'm fucking sure." She said. "Can I go now?"
"Sure." The cop said. "Just leave your info with officer Smith in case we need to reach you."
"Whatever, man."

Kelly turned and walked away. Debbie and Mark turned and walked with her towards their waiting cars. She did not speak as she walked. She thrust her hands deeper into her pockets and willed herself to be warm.