When Paths Cross

A Special Case

Nick sat up. He looked out of the window of his small apartment. The sun was just barely peeking over the distant hills. In the distance, he could see one of the first trains of the day making its way into the city. The city was already awake with activity. Then again, the city never sleeps.

Nick had a lovely dream about his "date" with Judy to the Gazelle concert. He smiled as the last wisps of the dream left him. A month had passed since that concert, and the relationship was going steady.

Nick shook away the lingering sleepiness and stood up. He dragged himself over to the chair in the corner, where he kept his pile of clothes. He found his uniform at the bottom of the stack of floral over-shirts and khakis. It was about time to do laundry again, since all of his other clothes smelled like they'd been worn at least a twice, which they had.

Nick started out of the building. He was late. At least, later than usual. His carpool rabbit had already came and went. Damn it, Nick. Looks like I'm walking. He rushed down sidewalks, dodging the busy pedestrians and buttoning his blue shirt. He was walking slower now, tired, because he had not gotten his daily cappuccino before work.

As he was walking, he noticed a faint noise. It was some sort of... groan? Nick perked up his ears, and the streets of the busy boulevard seemed to fall mute. All that remained was the pulse in his ears. There it was, again. A groan, like someone was in pain! Nick tried to pinpoint the sound. It was coming from up ahead. He pushed by people, listening as hard as he could. The sound had grown quieter now, almost to nothing. While racing through the streets, he suddenly noticed the sound had gotten behind him.

Then it was gone.

Nick turned back. He glanced around frantically trying to find out where the sound was coming from. All of the sudden, he stopped. He stared directly ahead of him. Across the street lied one dark and dreary alleyway. The morning sun was shining full force, but this small street stayed dark. Nick started slowly towards the opening, unaware of anything else around him.

A car screeched to a halt, and a very angry doe began shouting at Nick. Drawn back to reality by this, Nick frantically crossed the remaining road. He was now inches away from the opening of the alley. As he stepped inside, a chill crept into his head and slowly down his spine, like a centipede. He crept slowly, aware of every sound around him, down to the trickle of a lingering raindrop in the nearest rain gutter. There was a series of trash cans along with one single dumpster at the end of the line. The dumpster gave off a putrid odor, but he closed in on it. Unsure he wanted to see what was inside, he threw open the lid. And there is was, an old copy of a rejected author's autobiography, along with your basic, everyday trash heap.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Nick shut the dumpster. Before he turned around, he noticed something else. He smelled the fur of an animal. A jaguar. Along with something else, but he couldn't quite make it out.

Then it clicked. Blood. Nick looked around, noticing a large, black paw sticking out from behind the dumpster.

"Oh my God..." Nick felt like he was going to be sick. The sound he had heard was a jaguar during his last minutes of life. There was pain in the beasts dull, empty eyes. The last emotion felt by him. There was a small stream of tears, still wet. What Nick saw was something he had hoped to never encounter on his duty. Murder. This was something different, however. This victim had a mark. On the chest and down through the stomach, through the bloodstained shirt, was the letter "X". It was carved into this jaguar's body, and he was left to bleed to death. Nick, short of breath, quickly snapped a few photos for evidence, and left the scene as fast as possible.

Running like he had no other reason to live, he had made it to the headquarters. To greet him was  Clawhauser, stuffing himself as usual.

"Oh, hi Nick!" He waved through a mouthful of breakfast.

Nick had no time to say hello, not even time to clock in. He stumbled up the stairs in his hurried panic, and he sprinted down the hall to the door at the end. Chief Bogo, sitting at his desk, jerked up from his computer, startled by Nick's sudden appearance.

"Wilde! You're an hour l-"

"Someone's been killed!" Nick shouted. He fell to his knees and began to breathe heavily.

"Killed!? Who? Where?" Bogo began throwing questions at Nick.

"In the alley... on Seventeenth... A jaguar." Nick spilled the information in between breaths.

"Any pictures? Evidence?"

"A few pictures... I grabbed before... bolting out... of there."

Nick handed the chief his phone. The chief stared, dumbfounded at the pictures.

"Another victim has been killed." Bogo murmured.

Bogo sat back down at his desk and held a button while speaking into his intercom.

"Everyone to the main conference room! We have a special case of Code 1366!"

This was the ID code for an assassination. Nick was still breathing hard, unable to wrap his head fully around what he had seen just minutes ago.

"C'mon, Wilde, that's you, too!" Bogo said as he made his way toward his door. Nick's breathing began to get slower, deeper, and his vision began to blur.

"Wilde?"

Nick's vision fading, he saw the floor get closer to him. There was a faint thud.

"Wilde!"

The booming voice was distant, and Nick lost consciousness all together.