Post by Cthulhuson on Jan 5, 2013 13:14:36 GMT -5
"Fucking damn it!" Raven slammed her palm against her alarm clock while she jumped out of bed, furious at the fact that time flew by way too fast when all she wanted was a good day's sleep. The clock on her nightstand read 10:35 PM, 5 minutes late for her graveyard shift at the Innsmouth Mortuary. A place used for the storage of human corpses awaiting identification, or removal for autopsy or disposal by burial, cremation or otherwise. Many believed that this was indeed, a very odd occupation to have, even more so while being the daughter of the Mayor of Innsmouth. Psychologist were quick on the trigger to blame Raven's eccentric personality on the estranged relationship between father and daughter. In layman's terms, daddy issues.
There was no turning back now. Raven Nevermoore had seen way too much of Innsmouth seedy underbelly to be content with entertaining executive officers, self righteous and smug conservatives, whiny democrats, all while pretending to be 'daddy's little girl'. The only thing that Jack Nevermoore mandated was that she keep her head low until he was elected. Shortly there after, she promptly was arrested for throwing a brick through a Starbucks window.
Raven grabbed a few necessities and raced out the door of her Victorian styled humble abode. It was one of the few things she was able to keep after her mom passed away in depths of Arkham's asylums by way of, you guessed it, Jack Nevermoore.
Busy by day, the streets were no longer filled with the hipster students of Miskatonic University. In all honesty, no one really roamed the streets at night. Innsmouth itself was a pale shadow of itself now days. Located in the vicinity of Essex Bay, Massachusetts, tourist best described the town of Innsmouth as be being in a horrendous state of decay with an industrial industry boom looking over the horizon and ready to take the city by storm. They were only half right. Yes, factories were being built right in the heart of the city, but to call Innsmouth a horrendous state of decay was a fabricated overstatement. Sure Innsmouth wasn't the Hamptons by any stretch of the imagination, but it was home to the industrial people of the Miskatonic region. None the less, tourism in Innsmouth went up in whiff of smoke, and funding for the city went with it.
With a swipe of her key card, Raven entered the facility that she claimed to be the conduit of one of her livelier pursuits. Her co-worker greeted her with hardly a ping of acknowledgement.
Rachel was stereotypical mid 20's single adult. Feeling lost behind the power curve, she spent an ungodly amount of time on her iphone texting, downloading the latest and greatest apps, sending tweets, updating facebook with positive sayings that she obviously stole, posting a multitude of pictures of herself while looking in a bathroom mirror, and oh yeah, and flirting with other singles on her e-harmony page who were in to the exact same debauchery.
"Sorry I'm late," Raven mumbled more to herself than to her co-worker. Rachel, her co-worker, simply nodded. At least shes taking me for my word thought Raven.
Raven glanced over at the table of cadaver pouches, also known as a body bag designed to contain a human body, used for the storage and transportation of corpses. For a filled body bag, a toe tag was placed on the big toe for the bag's lucky occupant. It is used for identification purposes, allowing the mortician, coroner, law enforcement and others involved in the death process to correctly identify the corpse. It usually bears the decedent's name, a case number if law enforcement is involved, and some descriptors like hair and eye color. However, in many places, actual toe tags are no longer used but have been replaced by wrist and/or ankle bands which serve the same purpose.
Rachel took an obnoxiously loud sip from her coffee cup and picked up her clip. "It's looking like a quiet night this time. We just have that one on the table. The Mayor, I mean, your dad, ordered us to have that one cremated as soon as possible. "
A once disinterested Raven suddenly raised her eyebrows in suspicion.
"Since when does he give a rat's ass about what goes on in here?" she asked, more to herself but accidentally directed towards Rachel.
Rachel shrugged, "A dead body is a dead body. What does it matter? According to the report, his name is Keats Covenant. That's a weird name. He's 26 and he just recently received a PH.D for Marine Biology here at Miskatonic University. Appears the poor guy washed up on shore this morning. Probably some scientific study gone wrong or somethin'. Anyways, he's definitely no friend of your father. The mayor had his research lab shut down and his boat confiscated. Unfortunately for ole' Keats there, he had no immediate family or will. Shame really, he looks kinda cute if I don't say so myself. Well...cute for a dead guy at least."
"You're sick you know that?" Raven said while pouring her own self a cup of coffee. Rachel quickly retaliated, "Talk to about the kettle calling the pot black. Anyways, I told this guy that I would meet him at the pub for a hour or so. Doesn't hurt to get to know him first before I decided on if he's date-able. I figure since it was a slow night you might be able to handle it yourself for awhile?"
"Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just don't come crying to me if your eharmony cupid play dates ends up being a serial killer and slices your throat open after he butt fucks you."
"And yet you call me sick, Raven. Pfft. I should set you up with someone some time. You look like you need to get out anyways. Being the Mayor's daughter and all, I'm sure someone will consider you to be a hot piece of ass, despite the whole 'IIII ammmm glloommmm' look. Seriously, how old are we? 12? You look like a morbid punchline."
Raven stirred her coffee and gulped down a decent amount of her caffeinated liquid courage. "If you don't hurry up and get out of her," she said without looking down from her cup, "your face will be a morbid punchline."
"Whatev" she responded, "I'll see you when I see you. Don't wait up for me." Rachel grabbed her coat and beelined for the door, texting on the way out. A sigh of relief escaped the slightly parted lips of Raven now that she was left with the peace and serenity. The soothing feeling with nothing be calmness around her. She set spotify to play the discography of Cradle of Filth while swirled in her seat and chewed on the tip of her ballpoint pen. Fucking Rachel she thought to herself in slight irritation, effectively destroying the mental serenity she created.
She grabbed the clipboard and made her way over to Keats Covenant to start her checklist. Unzipping the bag confirmed Rachel's earlier remarks, he was kinda cute, in a drowned victim sort of way. Undoubtedly, he looked a bit disturbed. As if the last thing he saw would follow him even in death. Or as if disbelief was the last thing he felt before his flame snuffed out. All of his features seemed to be lace with thought. What were you thinking Keats, what did you see? Even with his eyes closed he looked to be in awe. In shock. Maybe even, "Alive?!" she gasped as the corpse on the table started coughing.
His eyes opened.
Through disbelieving eyes, she witnesses Keats roll off the table, make for the sink, and start vomiting what appeared to be seawater, chunks of kelp, and krill. His body writhed as his stomach forced the contents out of his esophagus and lungs.
"You...You...You... You were.."
"Dead?" Keat's voice sounded foreign even to him as the soreness and rawness of his throat took a hold of his vocal cords."I...I...have to notify the..." Raven fumbled around for her phone on her desk, while she also fumbled around for the words to say. "NO!" shouted Keats. "The Mayor of Innsmouth must go on believing I'm dead. Tell no one. Promise me! On your life! Tell...no...one!"
"Okay, okay... I promise. But tell me why?"
"What?" His vision started blurring.
"You've gotta have a reason."
"..."
"Look. It's not everyday that someone comes into my morgue like...like...like you. I'm the only one who knows you're alive. I'm the only one you can trust so just tell me okay!"
"I'm Mayor Jack Nevermoore worst enemy. I was going to overthrow him. Obviously, he was one step ahead of me and tried to have me killed. Spineless bastard." He staggered around the table on his weakened limbs as the room started to spin. He grabbed on to the nearest counter to stop the room from moving.
"The Mayor?"
"Yes, Jack Nevermoore himself. Anyways, I need to get back to my lab. If you don't mind, I'll borrow one of these jackets here and walk it." The room started to spin faster. A merry go round of reality with an admission for one.
"It's been ransacked. Your lab, your home, everything. It's all in the notes. If the Mayor is after you, you won't be safe anywhere in this city except for one place."
Keats fainted back into unconsciousness.