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"Alright- I'll be there in twenty minutes."
"Yes Ma'm."
The trooper hung up, placing the now annoyed female detective on a drive; not where she -or anyone for that matter- really wanted to be. And though she had been with the Oregon State Police for six long years now, this was her first case as a Detective in Major Crimes- not a backup officer who was called in to do nothing, not a cop who stood as a watch-dog on the outer perimeter of the crime scene...she was a detective.
The creme colored two-story that she was called in to investigate came into view, sending her foot to the break pedal of her Chevy Tahoe as she pulled to a steady hault, allowing her eyes to rove over the scene.
Blood splotches could be seen among the dimly lit window that occupied the bottom story of the home, flashes from the cameras of CSI men cascading through the unkempt glass; a grimace set in her features, a mild pinch of fear plaguing over her eyes.
She hesitantly pulled her keys from the ignition and moved her left hand to the handle of the driver's side door as she pushed it open with an exasperated sigh; long streams of yellow tape lined the perimeter of the relatively small home as the detective began her trek up the rather welcoming pathway- though deep down, she knew she was being welcomed right into the depths of hell.
Her stomach churned upon entrance; the smell of death permeated every peice of linen in the household -in her rather over exaggerative opinion- which made her want to vomit in the nearest hollowed object.
Heaving a rather shaky sigh, she quickly scanned the room for any familiar faces- but to her dismay, found not one soul.
Even the CSI had vanished- leaving behind the remnants of a family reunion gone terribly, terribly wrong. Preparing for another step, her entire being froze at the very thing that she had dreaded;
Lifeless pools of chocolate brown that were once filled with such vibrance gazed blankly at the detective, causing her to whirl around, drop to the floor, and allow her stomach to wrench itself from everything, if anything, it had.
"S-somebody--!! I need a sheet- Damn it, a blanket, a body bag for god's sake!!"
Only silence answered her desperate plea for assistance; but unfortunately for her, the unjustly slaughtered slaughtered corpse of young Samantha Graystone sprang to life-
...And it was too late.
Detective Anastasia Curtiss bolted upright in her bed, stifling a shrill cry of terror as a cold sweat welcomed itself amongst her back; her eyes had grown rather broad, her pupils dialated, images of the gruesome horror that was only her dream continuing to plague over her mind's eye; she patted profusely at the spot beside her, her mind registering the warm mass of fur that was her beagle, Ginger.
Reality returned in slow degrees as her eyes darted precariously around her apartment bedroom, her ears tuned to the drops of rain sounding against the window. Her mind still a fatigued mess, she wrestled with her sheets, kicking her legs over the bed-side as she made her way toward her tiny downstaitrs kitchen- it wasn't exactly an apartment meant for one, but she had rather enjoyed the luxury; and, feeling that the fees were modest, she had decided that it was a place worthy enough to be called 'home.'
She welcomed a handful of lukewarm water to her face, since an early morning shower was simply out of the question. After dabbing at her dampened cheeks with a nearby dishtowel, she slowly shifted her weight against the edge of the sink, tipping her head back in thought; the soothing, almost musical sonance of rain could still be heard as Ginger's claws scraped lazily across the tiling of the kitchen floor. Anastasia's emerald eyes opened slowly, another sound having welcomed itself amongst others- beeping.
Ginger's tail wagged ferociously back and forth as she approached her master, her jaws clamped lightly around the now rather annoying source of noise; Anastasia's brow knit in curiousity as she eyed the young beagle, whom had had her head tipped to the side, as if anticipating a command.
"Alright, give it here..."
Anastasia yawned in reply as she kneeled down to the pup's level, her hand apathetically outstretched- waiting to grasp the foreign object. But the dog just wouldn't cooperate. Raising its bottom in the air, its hind legs partially bent, front paws spread on the tiling, Ginger released a muffled, yet playful bark as she took off in a run upstairs.
"Ginger, no! What in the hell are you chewing on!?"
The impatient detective grasped the railing of the stairs, her bare feet hitting each step with a soft 'thump' as she quickly made her way up; flicking on the light switch aside from her doorway, her eyes instinctively scanned over the bed-side nightstand- her Nextel was missing. She emit a frustrated groan as she stepped further into the room, slamming the heel of her palm against the wall in hopes to scare the animal out of its hiding space; much to her likeness, Ginger's whitened snout poked out from under the bed, giving Anastasia a chance to catch her before her phone was thurally ruined; but just as she had made her first move, the downstairs phone began to ring.
"I'll be back, mutt..."
She groaned, making her way back down the stairs and toward the white cordless that lie on the countertop of the kitchen; pulling it from the charger with a sigh, she punched in the ovual shaped button mid-center of the phone's two volume keys, opening her mouth to speak.
"Hello...?"
"Hey, now- what's the point of having a cell phone if you never answer the damn thing?"
Anastasia recognized the rather base male voice to be that of detective Gale Landen- the man that she had come to 'know and love' as her best friend, since her first week in Major Crimes.
"It's late. I'm tired. What do you want?"
She inquired with a heavy sigh, already on her way toward the living room- eventually seating herself on the sofa and kicking her legs up on the coffee table, seemingly appearing as though she had forgotten about her ordeal.
"Just thought you'd enjoy yourself if you came by and played a bit of poker with me and the guys..."
"Wait, wait- what? It's three in the morning, and you honestly thought--"
"You were already awake."
Anastasia flinched, her muscles tensing at the detective's retort; this immediately struck her as something rather odd. Being her closest friend, she would understand him knowing her on a moderate level, but to be that perceptive was somewhat aberrant.
"Are you...spying on me?"
She replied, a hint of disbelief in her tone.
"Annie, Annie...You're always awake. Keep in mind that I'm the only one who would even think to call you rhis early in the morning."
He answered, much to Anne's dismay- she hated how, at times, he could read her like a book.
Despite her displeasure in the situation, she tried to regain her composure, and add a bit of humor, as she always did.
"...Stalker."
"In your dreams."
"Shut up"
She retorted, earning a chuckle from the seemingly amused man on the other end of the line. The both of them had had harmless little spars between each other all the time, and would normally end up laughing themselves into a stupor; however, this spar, though still somwhat humorous, had had a more serious tint to it with the idea that lie behind it's making.
"I was kidding, Anne- ain't no poker game over here. But swing by for a drink, and you'll feel better."
The man spoke, piercing the brief moment of silence that lie between he and Anne; the female detective sighed softly into the mouth piece as her head fell back against the sofa in anguish, thoughts rapidly boggling her mind- this man was simply nuts. Always had been, always would be.
"Gale, I really don't-"
"Come on, Kasey's here."
Anastasia blinked, her brow quirked in curiousity as she slowly leaned forward and allowed her legs to slide off of the coffee table, one after the other.
"Kasey Stinson. District Attorney Kasey Stinson?"
"Yes, that Kasey Stinson- how many more do you know?"
"You mean to tell me that one of our finest Attorneys is in your apartment?"
"Sure, why not..."
There was an awkward silence after Gale's last statement; still waiting for a reply, the familiar scraping noise that was recognized as Ginger's claws sounded through Annie's ears, causing her to glance off into the direction of the disobediant beagle- its mouth void of any object.
"Mongrel!"
"Excuse me...?"
Gale replied defensively from across the line, to which Annie groaned in agitation.
"Not you- the damn dog snatched my cell!"
"So then, get it back from her."
"Therein lies the problem, she doesn't have it anymore..."
"Well then, go-"
Anne hung up; she decided that she hadn't the time for Gale's semi-logical prattle- at least not until her phone was back in the right hands.
"Bad dog."
She lectured, wagging her index finger as the dog's once perky ears dropped back down on either side of her head. Her shoulders promptly dropped as she cowardly trudged her way up the stairs- she knew what she had done...
Doctor Lynn Community Member 
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