Hatchet

[Carbine23]

Well i thought of this idea a couple of days ago and i decided to go write the story for it. This is only the prologue really or beginning before the real mystery starts. "No Country For Old Men" inspired me to write this, even though i haven't seen the movie yet, but the style of the trailer gave me an inspiration to write this. So read the beginning, and tell me how you thought the start-off was

 

Content (Rated R): Strong Language, Drug and Alcohol Usage, and Strong Violence.

 

Plot Summary: Robert M. Cork, a man from Boston is one of the best inspectors working with the C.S.I. in the 1970's. Unfortunatelly for him, he always gets called for low-key mysteries with assumed killers being creatures or myths. He has a strong hate for mythical assumptions, but one case will change everything. One case down in Ferris Creek, Kentucky will change his view on Myths forever. With the help of four investigators from his company, and a town sheriff, they seek out to solve the mystery, and the myth thats behind it.

 

Character Information (Coming Soon):

 

Hatchet

 

Chapter 1/Prologue: Every Myth is a Lie

 

C.S.I. Robert M. Cork approached the dead horse on the ground, whose neck was filled with blood and bite stains. The investigation of the crime scene took place in a small farm in southern Massachusetts, at 11:34 P.M. on March 14th, 1971.

“I’m telling you Mr. Cork, this is El Chupacabra! He is real I tell you! He sucked the blood out of my horse!” the Spanish farmer said.

Robert M. Cork was taking down notes and observing the crime scene.

“I thought El Chupacabra sucked goats, not horses” he said sarcastically.

“I don’t know, but he is an ancient legend senor” the Spanish farmer explained.

“What would some old Spanish legend be doing up here senor? Why would a Mexican be up here in Massachusetts anyway?” Robert questioned the farmer.

“Please if you forgive me sir, but I’m only half Mexican. My father was an Irish-American farmer up here, and he gave me this farm when he died. I’m only doing what is right for my life sir” the Spanish farmer explained.

“Well that explains a lot. Too bad it’s unnoticeable. Ok so from my forensics operations, I can conclude that your horse wasn’t killed from an old legend” Robert stated.

“But Mr. Cork?” the Spanish farmer questioned.

“And if you were wondering who did it, I would take a look at that dog there. He’s got blood stains in his teeth, in fact he looks like he’s bloodthirsty for horse’s blood” Robert said.

“I….I….I can’t believe it. What do I do with the old mutt?” the farmer asked.

“I don’t know. Shoot him; kill him, whatever works best for the community. But I can conclude that your inferences, predictions, assumptions, and myths aren’t real. Every myth is a lie lad. Have a good time exploring your Irish heritage. Okay boys lets go!” Robert said.

 

The next day Robert returned to his apartment in Boston, exhausted from all the cases he’s been doing. He had been investigating many death cases where mythical creatures or beings were assumed for the killings. Robert couldn’t sleep though, especially with the bright sunlight shining through the window. Instead of sleeping he walked over to his typewriter on the counter. He started to continue typing up his new novel called Every Myth is a Lie.

 

The date is now April 30th, 1971. Robert had finished his book up and published it. The book seemed controversial to those in Boston, and he was accepted to be interviewed at a bookstore for his beliefs.

“Mr. Cork, as a native of Boston have you ever believed in any myths here like ghosts, banshees etc” the reporter said.

“Not at all. I was one of the normal kids growing up. I didn’t believe in any ghosts, or UFO’s or anything like that” Robert said.

“So your saying, a normal person doesn’t believe in this stuff?” the reporter asked.

“Exactly” Robert Stated

 

“Mr. Cork, this new book of yours has been controversial as it states many cases you’ve been involved with, all assumed to be related to strange unknown creatures. Can you tell us about any of those experiences?” another reporter asked.

“Well, most of the time these things were involved with dead animals, and sometimes dead humans. Most of this stuff has happened outside the city believe or not. The witness or somebody related to the case always has a story to tell me about some creature or an inhuman like thing. It gets to me if you know what I mean. People can be so gullible these days” Robert said.

“One other question Robert. What is your definition of a myth” A 3rd reporter asked.

“My definition of a myth? Hmmm. A myth is a made-up scenario or creature of some sort that is used to entertain the minds of those who are gullible. Do you know the Loch Ness Monster? Fake. What about Bigfoot? Fake. The Kraken; fake. The Minotaur; fake. El Chupacabra; fake. Fake, fake, fake, fake, fake!” Robert screamed in his last sentence.

“Mr. Cork, are you okay?” the reporter asked.

“No, I’m not f*cking okay. These stupid f*cking cases bug me all the time. I’m a C.S.I., and I investigate human crimes, not mythical. You know what? I can’t even talk right now, I’m just gonna leave. Thanks for inviting me to the conference, and I hope you all buy my book.” Robert said.

Robert got up from his chair, and left the bookstore in a pissed off mood.

 

A half an hour later, Robert was sitting in his bosses’ office, after he had been called upon for something.

“So, I hear you made a fuss down at the bookstore, eh Robert?” Mr. Griffin (aka. Robert’s boss) said.

“Just one of those moods, you know, personal feelings” Robert said.

“I see. Well I know your sick of all these cases, but you are one of the best crime investigators that I have. Sometimes I have to depend on you; myth or no myth. And that’s why I need you for this case” Mr. Griffin said.

“Oh god no. Can you, can you please give this to someone else” Robert said anxiously.

“Robert this, ugh, this looks like a much more serious case, and I need somebody like you. This isn’t one of those quickie jobs though, according to sources down there. This is one of those real-time investigations” Mr. Griffin said

Mr. Griffin took out a note from the sources down there. He took out his glasses and put them on his face, and started reading.

“Reported number of man-slaughtered killings. This has happened in the past, and it stopped for a year or two, and then it came back and haunted us again” Robert finished the note and continued with his normal talk. “Something you would like, right Robert? So I need you to go down to this town in ugh, Kentucky” Mr. Griffin said.

“Kentucky? All the way down there!” Robert said.

Mr. Griffin sighed, and continued talking.

“Do you want the job or not? I can get four more guys to go with you, but that’s about it. You’ll work with one of the sheriffs of this town. His name is ugh, Sheriff Lewis Bartlett. Guess you can call him Lew” Mr. Griffin said.

“When do I leave?” Robert questioned

“Now” Mr. Griffin said.

Edited April 2, 2008 by Carbine23

[saltinespike]

I promise I'll read this when I have time. The story looks decent enough, but the format could be a lot better. I haven't forgotten!

[meta187]

Looks pretty decent so far but there is a recent film with that title that came out in the last year...

 

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0422401/

 

http://www.hatchetmovie.com/

[Chickstick]

Not bad, not bad at all. The story seems interesting, and apart from what saltine picked up on, there were no errors that I could pick out (although I'm still half asleep at the moment- I'll read it again later).

 

The one thing that did seem a little odd to me was the Spanish farmer calling Cork "senor". That strikes me as a little bit stereotypical, but having never met any Spanish people they could say that all the time for all I know.

[Carbine23]

Thanks. I thought for a second that you forgot and i was like "that bastard lied to me!"

Thanks again Chickstick. I try my best to hide errors in the story. But can you tell me what i have to do to make the format better?

 

Sorry it took so long for the story to come out. I was busy this week, so here's Chapter 2!

 

Chapter 2: I expected it to be Sh*t

 

Robert’s airplane arrived at 11:25 A.M. at a small airstrip in Northeastern Kentucky, right near the West Virginia border. Robert arrived along with four other colleagues named Jason Friar, Martha Callaghan, Joe Morello, and Arthur Collins. They were Crime Scene Investigators like Robert, but they weren’t as high ranked as him. They were just their to help with the forensics and the mystery, since the Board of Kentucky begged for more investigators to come down there. Surprisingly Robert wasn’t the only investigator to be down there. There were people from L.A., Miami, New York City and Chicago.

“Mr. Cork?” a man in a sheriff’s outfit questioned.

“Yeah, that’s me. Who are you?” Robert questioned him.

“The names Bartlett sir. I’m the sheriff of Ferris Creek” Bartlett answered.

“Are you now? How far is Ferris Creek from here?” Robert said.

“Not so far. Just about 3 miles up the road east” Bartlett said.

“What kind of town is this? You know, is it a country town, farming town, commercial town, sh*tty town, you know what I mean?” Jason chuckled as he asked his question.

“Combination of all” Bartlett said in a sly and serious tone.

 

Ferris Creek, Kentucky was a combination of all. It even had a small metro system in it. Half of it was country, one quarter of it was suburban, and the other quarter was commercial. Sheriff Bartlett was driving everybody from the airstrip to the town.

“So, what is the big investigation down here anyway?” Robert said.

“Eh, there’s been a load of slaughtering down here. Supposedly this has been going on since 1964. Then for two – three years it stopped, and now its back” Bartlett said.

“How do you know it’s the same guy?” Joe said.

“Good question. All of the victims have been cut up in the same way, with the same material” Bartlett stated.

“Any idea who the killer is?” Martha asked.

“Well, no. But everybody in the town calls him Hatchet. Being that his weapon is a hatchet, and that’s what he uses to kill. I’m sure if you use your forensics stuff down here, and maybe ask a couple of witnesses, then you’ll solve the mystery down here” Bartlett said.

Sheriff Bartlett finally made it into town about 12 minutes after they left the airport.

“So where are we staying?” Joe said

“A four star hotel in the commercial district, otherwise known as the rich part. Everybody thinks it’s all rural down here, but now we’re going modern like up there. Other then that it’s safer there in the commercial district. Extra cops and more safety. Most of the killings have been happening in the countryside” Bartlett stated.

 

They finally reached the Domino Hotel in Downtown, Ferris Creek. The area was filled with skyscrapers, pedestrians, traffic, and nightlife. It made the crew feel like they were home in Boston.

“Wow, I thought the hotel was going to be sh*t, but it looks pretty nice” Jason said.

“Well I heard Boston’s sh*t” Bartlett said as he chuckled.

The crew finally made it to their rooms. They each got their own rooms for themselves. Each room had a TV in it, a king sized bed, a kitchen, a couch, a chair, a desk, a bathroom with both a bath and shower, a table, and red-brick painted walls. Everybody was satisfied with their room. Sheriff Bartlett went with Cork to his room.

“Ya like it?” Bartlett said in his southern accident.

“Yeah. I’m shocked. Just like the four star hotels in Boston or New York City. I can get pretty comfortable here. However, I wanted to see if I can get a head start on the investigation today?” Cork said.

“Of course. The last killing we encountered was just two days ago” Bartlett said.

“Two days ago?” Robert questioned.

“Yeah. A poor 17 year old girl who lived on Clifton Street. It’s just on the edge of the suburbia, right near the country. Her body was found near the hay fields, so I think she must’ve been drunk. Some party probably going on around there” Bartlett stated.

“Alright. A question though. If most of the killings have been happening in the country, then why don’t people just leave the town?” Cork asked.

“Well, most of the people who live there are religious, and they think god will protect them. Crazy, aint it? Some teenagers in the suburban towns are stupid enough to get people to encounter the killer, through dares” Bartlett said.

“I see. How big is this town anyway?” Cork asked.

“Pretty big. People call it a town, but its sort of a city now. We got skyscrapers now; we got business, entertainment, towns, highways, so it’s pretty big. Don’t know how many miles wide though. The investigation institute is about 10 minutes south of here, on the other side of downtown. The bodies there. I’ll take you, and everybody else in an hour or two. Do yourself a favor and get something to eat. Plenty of restaurants here” Bartlett said as he walked out.

Robert bit his lip, and sat down on the couch. He then turned on the TV to the news station. The first thing that appeared on there was the killing of the girl.

 

Bartlett picked everybody up an hour and a half later, and drove them to the I.F.A.M., or the Institution of Forensics and Murders. The crew walked in to the building, and had to go through a series of elevators and hallways to reach their destination. The crew walked into Floor 3, Section 8, Room 14A where the girl was.

“Well here we are” Bartlett said as he opened the door.

The crew walked into the room where a number of people were. About 3 cops were in there, 4 doctors, and 2 more investigators.

“Um, Mr. Cork I would like you to meet Mr. Avery, the chief of the Ferris Creek Police Department” Bartlett said

“Hi, nice to meet you” Mr. Avery said.

“You too” Robert said back.

“So. As you can see, this is the body of the girl that was killed two days ago, on Tuesday night at about 1 A.M.” Mr. Avery stated

“Ok. Can you please remove the cover, so I can see the infliction” Robert said.

The doctors and chief looked nervous, but they uncovered the blanket. The corpse had been inflicted badly and brutally. Her stomach was cut open, and her head was cut off. Her skin was bright pale from all the blood loss. Robert looked in disgust and shock.

“My god. I’ve never seen anything like this” Robert said.

“Neither have we. There have been a couple of these lately” Bartlett said.

Robert grabbed his forensics tools and investigated and observed the cut marks on her skin. He grabbed a scalpel and a stick to lift the skin. Robert pulled back his tools.

“You’re right. The stomach was cut open by a Hatchet. But the question is, how old of a hatchet was it” Robert said.

“Probably a new one. Those cut the best” the Chief said.

“Well don’t be so sure. Tomorrow we’re going to the tool store and finding out. And I’m going to need more victims then this” Robert said.

Robert took the scalpel and cut a part of her stomach and liver so the blood to leek into a tube that he was holding. Robert then gave the tube to one of the doctors.

“I want the blood tested, to see if she was drunk during the incident” Robert said to the doctor.

“Is that all Robert” Joe said.

“Where are her clothes?” Robert asked.

The doctors bought the clothes to Robert. Robert investigated them, and looked through them. Suddenly, he found a bag in the girl’s pockets. He opened it and found something shocking.