Black and White: the Opposition of Red
Jeffery Austin apartment at Mastic Avenue, Chicago
2 am in the morning.
The ancient Jeffery Austin Apartment complex towered over, its structure was four stories of concrete and metal only reached half of the height of his brother buildings, and their presence dwarfed its older brick appearance. Milk white plastic shielded the windows and weakened foundation made it even less attractive, screaming condemned to the residence in the area. To its side laid an alleyway, ending in a dead caused by chain link fence filled with discarded debris, an emergency fire escape that ran the length down with a ladder that swung to the ground and day old activities of homeless presence. About the left side was remains of the age old fire which spelt its demise from the start. Yesterday it was just another abandoned city past left to rot into the ground but today, it was blackened by murder. Yellow tape farther marred its state, barred it off from trespassers, only one man was present on the scene: the coroner. Sirens doused the scene in bright red and blue flashes, casting shadows where it could reach, adding to the serious nature of things.
Rust age coated the walls of peeling paint, walls unfinished laid to the mercy of time and debris scattered about the room. It had been abandoned for month, running on a year as yet to be cleared of debris. Musty scents filled it with a sour taste of rot, the buzz of flies powerful and distracting while they swarmed about one corner of the unfinished room, lingering too long in the dead place.
His corpse was exposed to the ravages of two days, time, insects, and rodents had left their marks by devouring as much soft flesh allowed before someone found him. The man’s thin body slumped over against the wall, dyed red with colligated blood paw prints stating what the coroner already knew: post modem inflicted. Arms held closely to his body with a dead cell phone in clasped in a ridged hand with a skinned bloodied face, absent of flesh and eyes along the outer edges. Strands of long wavy blond hair draped, hiding the vacant dead stare of hollowed out sockets and disfigured face to the world. Among the most dominate feature were numerous bruises and dentations from a blunt object. Dark stains coated his blue shirt, fell to the jeans speaking loud of the relentless aggression of his attacker as well as force behind it even when he ceased to move. The ribcage sat upon the hip bone, scavengers had done their work eating the remains about the middle until nothing held it up anymore.
The coroner was Joseph Sterling, his gloved hands currently held the cell as he looked it over. The police force in this side of the city had been stretched pretty far so for this one, the station only sent a two men unit to cover the area making the elderly man grumble. His white stringy hair lay thinning upon his near balding head; his gloved hand moved it from his eyes twice with frustration. Brown bear eyes zoned in on the phone waited for lights to display, his own was lucky enough to match the same type, a generic and common enough type enough, the proximity of the body's odor should have over whelmed his hooked nose but it failed to bother him. He had spent much longer in and with farther along corpses to be affected. It came to life with a light hearted melody of the company’s jingle with the last text message printed clearer than day.
It’s Chance; meet me at the old Jeffery Austin Apartment. Please, it’s important and I am scared.
The old man scoffed and in his mind he didn’t seem surprised. It sounded like a weird name, seemingly fit for a love crime and ironic to boot. His aged form lifted, a plastic bag in his hand now, to meet eyes with an approaching figure. His wrinkles increased in a smile knowing the man well enough. His black shoes were careful as he gently removed his own cell battery, he highly distrusted the female fore scenic lad head and in his day, females were best at home, before depositing it with a quick label and moving forward. A camera was set upon the ground where Joseph once crouched down filled with crime scene photos previously taken.
“It’s about damn time you got here…” the voice was irate, covered the relief, while his hand picked at his uniform betraying his nervous state of being here of all places alone.
114 Street, Fountaine Apartments
Chance was pissed. Her black hair was straight, trailed down to just an inch beyond her shoulders shifted with her rocking foot. Tap, tap, and tap as she glared at her younger brother by three years as he held her arm tightly like a clinging child. His blue eyes, sky blue and enough to make most ladies swoon if he ever saw the light of day, stared into hers almost pleadingly. Her coat was in hand, the summer days ended and winter began to set in but as normal, he wanted her to stay with him. It was his fear of large spaces, the outside world that kept him trapper here and it often enough made her resent him at times. Then turned to guilt soon after.
“Gage, I have to leave or I will be late for work. You know work? Something I need to do so you can stay here and keep seeing Dr. William? Chance asked her sibling as gently as she could, her patience to be was slightly breaking.
He bit his lip, a habit with hesitation before released his grip as his mousy hair was ruffled by his hand. Chance couldn’t help it. Her free arm was wrapped about him, clasped him tightly in the embrace as her lips kissed him upon the forehead and a smile crept upon her lips. He was so cute when he wanted to be, melted her heart no matter how angry she was. After a few moments she pulled away and walked out the door, the feeling of him still on her back.
“Be safe…” he spoke, the word tugged at her heart strings nearly killing her core.
It was a relief to be free, to forget her responsibly for just a moment and without thinking she left out a sigh. She had lied to her brother and a part of her knew Gage had sensed that but there little time to reflect upon it, she had to get to that place. The one she had a nightmare about. Nick being battered over and over by someone, the person coated in darkness blotted out from her, until he ceased to move. She had screamed, her body wrapped in thin white sheets but he died anyway. She hoped it was just a dream.
Her hand raised as a cab stopped, her lithe body slid into the cab door and shut it with a loud click. The man was chucky fellow with a round remember able face that peered though the rear view mirror at her. His clean shaven head was covered by a baseball cap while it was his eyes, a shade lighter grey than her steely ones, looked her for direction. She smiled a winning grin, sexy and confident.
“Jeffery Austin Apartments, please as quick as you can.” Her body sat back relaxed against the seat with one tan leg crossed over the other as the cab pulled out heading to the roughest, grimmest, and worst part of the city.