Your Beau

My stick figure masterpieces to go along with what I write

“You know, this is a really nice apartment,” said Liam. The thirty-two-year-old detective walked around the crime scene, taking in the layout and the available space of the large two-bedroom apartment. His partner, a workaholic girl from Bridgeport, Connecticut, stopped dusting the coffee table for fingerprints to look at her conceited partner, standing legs far apart with his hands resting on his hips and chest puffed out, nodding his head. At the same time, his eyes wandered around the living room. She wondered every day if the frosted, bleached hair tips and cheap tan came as part of the deal when an ‘egotistical buffoon,' as she liked to call him, was born. 

“What do you think, Kate? New bachelor pad.”

His partner, Caitlyn, rolled her eyes and went back to doing her job.

“It doesn’t have to be a bachelor pad, you know, plenty of space for both of us,” said Liam, smirking and looking at Caitlyn up and down. He winked at her as she turned to look at him.

“You’re willing to move into an apartment where someone was murdered?” said Caitlyn.

“It’s all part of the plan, Kate! Don’t you see, the killer will eventually want to return to the scene of the crime, try to find out who moved in here next, and then,” Liam thumped his chest with his fist and threw a faux gang sign that turned into a finger gun. “That’s where I come in.”

“Damn, how are you single?” said Caitlyn sarcastically.

“You never give me a chance,” smirked Liam. “One date and your life will change forever. I can be your beau.”

“I’ve had truck stop Chimi-Chimis before; they’re not usually my romantic first date go-to food.”

“Man, you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Grinning, Liam looked up at the ceiling of the apartment. “As I’ve said before, I got called last minute before my date with that Leslie girl to follow up on a new lead, and I ended up working late after that. It’s not my fault that the only place open at one in the morning is Love’s.”

“I still can’t believe she agreed to meet you that late into the night,” said Caitlyn, putting some forensic supplies into their cases.

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Liam shrugged his shoulders. “And never answered my calls after that. I’m the one who also suggested rescheduling, but I guess she really wanted to see me that time.”

“After she saw the way you eat, she regretted her decision.”

Liam annoyingly responded, “I eat very normal, thank you very much.”

The forensic photographer walked past them and asked where they wanted to eat for lunch. Liam changed his focus to what he was craving while Caitlyn got up and walked some more around the living room area. 

For Caitlyn, this was a sloppy murder; it was quick and not well-planned. The perpetrator wanted revenge against the victim. The messy writing on the walls that read 'Liar' and 'Cheater' helped Caitlyn narrow down suspects to recent ex-girlfriends and lovers of the victim. Many clues, like fingerprints and hair, were all over the crime scene. She had everything she needed to build a case and report to her sergeant. She figured that she and Liam could solve it fairly quickly. 

Being a detective was fulfilling work for Caitlyn; since her father's passing, she became very interested in law enforcement. No one had to tell her that it was her way of coping with the tragedy. Whenever she solved a case, it was like a warm, weighted blanket covering her heart, feeling like she was avenging her father. It had always been like that for her. She did not know any other life. She solved cases, always did, nothing more. Although something quite strange was transpiring before Caitlyn, something odd had been happening within the last two months that she did not know why; there were moments when her breathing became more shallow, and waves of dread came and went randomly during the day. She started to fixate on minuscule things at her job and think about the worst-case scenarios over spelling errors on her paperwork or arriving to work one minute past the hour.

Most cases that would come across her desk, finding the perpetrator did not require much thought. Liam was always quick to connect clues and figure out motives, as goofy as he would get. Caitlyn admired his approach toward people and how he conducted interrogations. She appreciated that he was skilled at what he did and noticed that he genuinely cared about his work despite not seeming to care about his job on the surface. As much as she would tease Liam about his fashion choices, she genuinely became more appreciative because the cases started to mesh together and feel repetitive to Caitlyn. To her eyes, too many similar crimes were being committed. Although she did not like sharing these frustrations in the bullpen with other detectives, she was comfortable enough to make remarks and see if others held similar sentiments. 

Other detectives, like Cameron and Misty, would seem unfazed about what Caitlyn would try to express. They all worked well together, but Caitlyn would get creeping ideas about their precinct's success running into boredom quickly from repetition or lack of diverse crime. Because of this, Caitlyn caught herself daydreaming of particular cases that added excitement to her job in the past. 

In one instance, Jerry, in forensics, questioned Caitlyn about who the Stockyard Reaper was, leaving Caitlyn perplexed, considering that he did almost all of the analysis of the evidence on that case. She could not recall what made her think about that case, but something triggered a memory. Like a spectator in a movie theater, Caitlyn would watch flashbacks of the Stockyard Reaper flood her mind spontaneously with no control over her triggers.

Her dreams became more lucid as the nights and days passed. The lucidity of the dreams carried over to daydreaming as waking up from afternoon naps on her desk, would take Caitlyn five minutes to orient herself to her reality. Often questioning whether the reports she was working on were reality or part of her dream. A conversation with Misty made Caitlyn consider taking a lengthy vacation, as her dreams about looking over the evidence of the I-30 Collector turned out to be just her imagination. Misty had never heard of or could recall working on a case about a serial killer who would collect people’s organs and wound up evading law enforcement for over four years. 

There was an instance when Liam eavesdropped on Caitlyn talking with Cameron about a similar case that Caitlyn was adamant they had worked on together, but Cameron could not recall. Liam quickly stepped in and seemed very concerned over Caitlyn’s persistence in trying to convince Cameron of such a case. Caitlyn was offended when Liam suggested that she should get evaluated and get medicated since the stress of the job was getting to her. Anger floated above the surface of Caitlyn’s pool of emotions, but beneath the surface were fear and sadness. A sadness that perhaps Liam was right. Was this job getting too much for her? Even after doing it for so many years, was it time to step back and take on a more administrative role to ease the stress?

Beneath the goofiness, Liam was sincere and took Caitlyn’s concerns as something not to be ignored. He pushed her to seek a professional, even appearing agitated like a concerned parent because Caitlyn would not take her stress seriously. After an embarrassing argument in the captain’s office, Caitlyn agreed to see a local therapist whom Liam recommended and boasted of the therapist’s credibility and experience working with law enforcement. The therapist was of no help to Caitlyn as he peddled cliché sentiments she had heard from Liam. The recurring appointments made the bullpen more understanding of Caitlyn’s situation, which she appreciated but saw that as the only benefit of therapy. After six weeks, Caitlyn stopped going to therapy, not seeing any tangible results in her daily life. Still, she kept that to herself, fearing the other detectives would see it as a sign of rebellious disengagement.  

After conducting thorough interviews and finding enough concrete evidence of who killed Mr. James Porter at 3905 W Elizabeth St, Apt. 155, Caitlyn celebrated with her partners at The Pigeon and The Peccary—their regular place to drink and the only place that could make a perfect Sazerac. Celebrations were always called for in the unit when a case was solved. It did not matter to Caitlyn how much time she spent with her coworkers after working hours. It was the family she had chosen and the only people in her current life that meant something. Moving to Texas distracted her from the pain she left behind in Connecticut. These small celebrations always made her feel welcomed, and the drinking made her forget about the past.

“So I’ve talked to the landlord,” said Liam, stirring his cocktail with a thin black straw. 

Caitlyn took a big gulp and looked at Liam, surprised. 

“Wait, you were being serious about that apartment?” She asked. 

Liam laughed and then gestured at the TV, complaining about the poor performance of a relief pitcher walking another batter.

“I swear, man, every time Milner comes out to pitch, you can always expect him to throw meatballs. Dude sucks! But to answer your question,” Liam took a sip of his cocktail.

“No, I’m just joking with you. I’m comfortable at la casa de Liam.”

“I was about to say,” Caitlyn shook her head and started looking at the bar menu. After ordering food for her and Misty, she watched Liam get worked up over the Rangers giving up the lead to the Mariners. Cameron boasted about the Yankees being better, and the usual argument between the two erupted, where both started naming players, stats, and memorable moments of the two respective clubs. She spaced out while Misty was talking to her. Caitlyn contemplated her job. Her mind drifted to the TV, and even though she did not care for baseball, the monotonous pace of the game helped her forget about her stress for a while.

“Did you see the new case that Sergeant McClenaghan assigned us?” asked Misty. 

“Mhmm,” expressed Caitlyn, redirecting her focus to the conversation. 

“Another car thief,” said Misty. “I believe it’s the work of that Robby Fisher guy. I heard he got out not too long ago.”

“Yeah,” responded Caitlyn less enthusiastically. Caitlyn stared at her glass and stirred her cocktail. 

“You don’t seem excited for it,” commented Misty.

“It’s just,” Caitlyn paused. A faint frown fell upon her face. “It feels like we’ve already solved this case, or at least it seems like it. Many cases we have worked on are always the same, whether the same perpetrator or the same crime,” responded Caitlyn. “I’m not saying that the cases themselves are unimportant; it's just that… It's always the same thing.”

“I-I don’t think I’m following you,” responded Misty.

Caitlyn sighed, “I can’t even follow myself. I feel stuck like I have lived this, if I’m being honest.”

Liam stopped engaging with Cameron and turned to look at Caitlyn, who was unaware of his flat affect and sudden change in attitude. He took a sip of his drink. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” continued Misty.

“It’s like I remember this big case that nobody could solve; it took us months to get our first lead. We did some of our best work and put someone dangerous away for life. Yet,” Caitlyn paused and looked at her reflection in the glass cup. “I guess it was all a dream; I don’t know, maybe I’m imagining things.

“Oh! Wait,” responded Misty. “I think I saw a movie like that.”

Caitlyn smirked and then lowered her head to hide the frown that had followed. She continued to drink and later agreed with Misty about which detective movies were the best. It was not long before Liam turned to Misty and Caitlyn and asked what they were talking about before quickly interrupting and asking Caitlyn to follow him.

“I just want to talk in private,” said Liam. “It’s about the Porter case.” Liam jerked his head toward a more secluded corner of the bar. Caitlyn agreed and followed.

“What is it?” Caitlyn asked.

“I, uh, lied,” said Liam. “I have nothing on the Porter case; it's just that I have been worried about you. That's all. Have you continued seeing that therapist?”

Caitlyn looked around the bar, unsure of herself, then shook her head and responded with a “No.”

“Why not?” Liam’s eyebrows furrowed as he placed his hands on his hips.

“Just,” Caitlyn paused and shrugged her shoulders. “It wasn’t for me; I honestly didn’t think it helped at all.”

Liam took a deep breath and stretched his neck, even moving it in a twisting motion as if trying to hear a pop. Caitlyn raised one eyebrow, puzzled by Liam’s body language.

“Who cares,” commented Caitlyn. “I don’t need some shrink to tell me to ‘practice breathing exercises’ and ‘journal your thoughts,’ I can handle whatever stress the job comes with,” Caitlyn smirked and nodded. “Nothing alcohol can’t solve.”

Liam’s nostrils flared, his lips tightened. “I understand,” Liam responded. “I understand completely,” Liam sighed and walked away. Caitlyn saw him sit beside Cameron and order another drink. Caitlyn returned to sit beside Misty and commented on Liam’s strange demeanor. 

“Ehh, I think he’s just joking; he’s always playing some game or being silly,” said Misty, eating cheese fries. 

“He’s never cared that much about anything,” whispered Caitlyn, looking at Liam interacting with Cameron. 

A group of stand-up comedians arranged their microphones and set up their speakers in the corner of the bar where karaoke and other performances happen. The cheers from the crowd and continuous drinking filled Caitlyn’s spirit with merry mindfulness of living in the present moment. After closing their tabs and deciding to call it a night, Liam insisted on walking Caitlyn to her vehicle. He apologized for seeming angry earlier and seeming like he did not trust Caitlyn in her ability to handle her own stress. He wanted to make it up by having her work on a murder case with him. “I got the file today, and this guy is a butcher, I’ll say that,” said Liam. Caitlyn was unaware of such a case, as the sergeant had stated there were no high-priority cases right now. Liam assured her that the sergeant had misspoken or forgotten that he had handed the case to someone. 

Liam wrapped his arm around Caitlyn and pulled her closer to him. “Come on, let me make it up to you. You’re an excellent detective, one of the best to protect and serve,” he said softly into her ear. “Your parents would most definitely be proud of you. You are so loved.” 

Caitlyn pushed away from Liam in disgust. She bit her lips and closed her fists, looking at him. “Quit being creepy, man,” Liam smirked and gave a faint laugh, trying to reassure Caitlyn he was messing around and it was the alcohol talking. “C’mon Kate, can’t blame me for wanting to be your beau.”

Caitlyn’s pensive face made Liam want to change the subject,

“Ok, ok, let us go home,” Liam said, clearing his throat. “Get some sleep, but do think about it, though. I know you and Misty were going to work on something, but hey! This one seems pretty challenging,” continued Liam.

Caitlyn stared at Liam; a sensation overcame her abdomen like a slight tug on her stomach from an invisible string attached to her skin. “Sure, I’ll think about it,” was her response.

When Caitlyn agreed to assist Liam in the murder case, the first few months were busy with following up on leads and responding to new victims found in all kinds of dismemberment. Six girls were found surgically mutilated by Lake Worth, laid out on display on the muddy bank, waiting to be found, wanting to be found by the killer. One of the girls was missing her cervix. Another one was missing her arms. Another one was missing all of her intestines. Another one had a hole in her head, missing her temporal bone. Another one had her liver removed, and her body was a dark yellow color. The other girl had her nose and face cut just deep enough to expose the inner nasal cavity.

Caitlyn watched as the girls were covered in white sheets and cameras flashed and shuttered, sealing their imprint to the court of public opinion forever as victims. Soon, the chaos clouded her mind, and she daydreamed of similar images like snapshots flipping through a photo book, the recollections of events already lived in the exact same spot, with memories of the same motives. 

“There have been others here,” commented Caitlyn, looking around the lake, trying to ground herself by mentally describing the faint breeze against her dry-skinned face and the fishy smell of green water mixed with duck feces surrounding the lake. Liam looked at Caitlyn and questioned what she meant, but Caitlyn could not answer other than to state, “There have been other girls, other victims… here.”

“Please… Kate,” said Liam as if disappointed seeing Caitlyn deep in thought.

More months passed, and evidence was coming together for Caitlyn and Liam; their case seemed strong, and they both felt they were narrowing their suspicions to three suspects. Liam came in every morning to do debriefings on others’ cases and was always in good spirits, trying to mix in his cheesy stand-up while trying to get the squad pumped for work. He enjoyed the job he did and found purpose in it. One particular morning, while Liam was reviewing some evidence, Caitlyn looked at her file, and her vision became blurry after Misty had commented about seeing a shooting star. Caitlyn rubbed her eyes and tried unclenching her jaw, but to no avail; the tension around her temples grew like a giant rubber band had been placed around her cranium and was squeezing her head. The more she rubbed her eyes, the more the papers seemed to morph into blood-stained forms, revealing letters and photographs. Grey static that she could only compare to TV static filled her vision for less than a second through multiple snapshots of blood-stained forms and pictures. One form seemed like a letter directed at her; the details written on the note were about Caitlyn wishing upon a shooting star following the death of her father. It was written fast and illegibly, like the writings of a madman. Caitlyn then saw a mugshot of the suspect who supposedly murdered her father and then newspaper clippings of the actual killer never being caught. 

Knots in her stomach were a rat king while the rats scurried, only making their tails tighter. Her breathing became rapid; she looked up and saw Cameron looking at her, asking if she was ok, but before she could answer, Cameron’s face shifted into a gruesome, bloody, torn face of flesh dangling to the side, and then static brought Cameron’s face back to normal. At the same time, he kept asking if Caitlyn was ok.

“I-I gotta get some fresh air!” Caitlyn expressed, getting out of her chair and rushing outside the debriefing room. Liam looked as Caitlyn ran out of the room with a melancholic expression and sighed deeply. 

The elevator stopped, and Caitlyn stepped out to the parking garage of the police department building. Caitlyn walked a few paces, hyperventilating and bending over the hood of a vehicle, and then continued a few more paces toward the garage gate leading to the street. She was sweating and did not know what to think as she could not think clearly or even process what she needed to do; she was going off instinct, placing her hands behind her head, trying to take deep breaths. Her eyes adjusted slowly, and the dense air around the parking garage made her nauseous. She continued walking toward the gate, hoping to get fresher oxygen. 

The elevator door opened, and the clacking of boot heels echoed through the parking garage. Caitlyn looked at Liam approaching her while he licked his lips, cleaning them of crimson stains. The crimson splotches on his shirt and pants were peculiar but all too familiar for Caitlyn’s expertise. She hurried her pace to the garage gate, but her tension headache turned into a sharp pain as if she was being stabbed repeatedly with a knife, and she crouched down screaming, placing her hands on her temples.

“It’s getting worse,” said Liam quickly, covering immense ground and reaching Caitlyn. “Why does it always get worse?” His voice changed into a more sinister growl. “WHY! Does it always get worse?”

Caitlyn fought the headache and stood straight, watching Liam look at the back of his hand and lick the semidried crimson ooze. Liam then looked at Caitlyn and shook his head while waving his index finger.

“You… just can’t seem to keep it together, can you?” Liam furrowed his brows and gritted his teeth. “We are supposed to solve cases together. You and I remember? That was the plan all along, was it not? The wish, the desire to do something worthwhile, no? To be the greatest detective.”

Caitlyn stared at Liam, confused and scared of his scowl, while she tried to control her breathing. The world around her quickly became blurry, and she had difficulty distinguishing the car shapes.

“I give you everything, every single run. Yet, you are becoming more and more unappreciative.”

Caitlyn fluttered her eyelids rapidly and hyperventilated while unbuttoning the top half of her shirt to cool off. Looking at Liam, she could only see the blurry silhouette but no distinct features. His voice communicated all she needed to know. 

“Wh-What are you talking about?” Said Caitlyn, trying to get her vision to focus. A sudden burst of snapshots filled her eyesight as if she were the passenger in her mind. She lowered her arms and slowly reached for her sidearm while trying to stay focused instead of fixating on the snapshots of a deceased Misty and Cameron.

“Do you remember my sweet love?” Liam’s voice changed into a deeper tone. “When you made your wish upon that star known to me on that chilly April night, while mommy dearest did her evening routine of drinking half a bottle of Pinot Noir while crying her eyes out and making the kitchen table sticky with her tears.”

Caitlyn trembled and continued hyperventilating, almost wheezing. Her eyes began to water, and she quickly drew her gun upon hearing those words.

“What was it that you hated the most? The fact that your father’s killer never got caught, or the fact that your mother was drinking herself to death.”

Caitlyn’s throat spasmed like forcing itself to pass a fat lump of dough down her esophagus. She quickly wiped away the tears from her eyes, and her jaw started to hurt from clenching it too hard.

“She, too, left you, leaving you with no one. Yet, who was there? Who was there to comfort and give you everything you had ever wished for?” 

“N-no,” tears continued to roll down Caitlyn’s cheeks as she whimpered. 

“I just want to be your beau, the one who gives you everything.”

A sudden, uncomfortable, sizzling sensation coursed through Caitlyn’s spine like a hot flash. Memories started circulating in her mind, memories of past lives and events that meshed together, creating an endless loop of untrue memories of what she thought was reality.

“Every run,” said Liam. “Every time I reconstruct you and this world, I capture less of your essence.” 

Caitlyn looked up at Liam. Her vision was clearer, and she froze, seeing Liam’s hazel eyes melt like chocolate that had been left out in the sun for too long. His skin dripped like hot wax, and his teeth crumbled into powder as he spoke slowly, revealing the truth behind the facade. 

“We were supposed to solve cases together,” repeated Liam, looking at his humanoid hand as it transformed slowly into static. His fingers stretched into thin cables that started to flail like frenzied eels. What was once Liam in human form was now a grotesque, undescribable entity of pure static and red ooze that seeped through the pores and openings of the monster’s metallic fibrous outer shell. It stretched itself into a tall, slender shape. Thin, long fibers frenzied around its body like trying to escape a gravitational pull. The monster stepped closer to Caitlyn with an outstretched hand. Caitlyn became paralyzed; her muscles stiffened, and her body shook from the shock she was witnessing. The garage around her was blurry and seemed to start melting as well. The cars were more disfigured from their original shape. Caitlyn mustered the energy to fire two shots, which she missed due to the excessive shaking of her hands. 

The monster started to saunter around Caitlyn, and the noiseless fuzzy static grew more chaotic in his presence. The entity did not flinch at being shot at again. Caitlyn cried harder and kept firing her sidearm.

“I just don’t understand why you keep remembering and tapping into past simulations,” the entity circled Caitlyn. “This is something that I have to understand better and look deeper into, but never the matter,” the red ooze turned a dark burgundy and flowed with more fervor. “I will try again and again and again… until I get it right.”

Caitlyn wiped the mucus from her nose and mouth with her sleeve and quickly shot at the monster again; this time, the bullets did not miss, but they did nothing to deter the entity before her. After emptying the whole clip, the thing stepped toward her. Its remaining humanoid facial features were malicious. Caitlyn panicked and turned around to run, but she did not go more than five feet before a searing burning pain penetrated her muscles, and a tight constriction wrapped itself around her body.

The monster had wrapped its fuzzy, static appendages around her like a bindweed. Caitlyn screamed and writhed as much as she could, but her efforts were futile as the more she wriggled, the tighter the appendages continued to constrict her. Her screaming grew louder as she was moved around like a lightweight bag and turned around to face the entity. She watched the thing’s jaws open wide like a python’s. A vast pit, the dark abyss of the monster’s insides, was all Caityln saw as the thing's maw drew closer to her. It was inevitable for Caitlyn; only adrenaline allowed her to scream and move so much, but the abyss only got closer, inching more and more till everything before Caitlyn was complete darkness. 

What Google Gemini Ai came up with