Mortal Cessation

I stood there. 

My body as stiff as the stone before my eyes.

I glared at the tombstone.

Like I was waiting on it to write me back.

Like I wanted it to drizzle into sand and stray away with the wind.

The smoke from my cigarette exited my nostrils.

Pathetic.

I could hear thunder arousing in the distance. The sky above shriveled up and stung, like a festering boil. 

This would not be an ordinary storm.

I ripped the cig from my mouth and trampled it into the ground, as I headed back to my vehicle. 

Its black as the sky, each crevice of it is thick with metallic muscle. I press my keys on approach and the car lights up like the Eiffel tower. My phone began to ring, so i send it to my car before entering its leathery interior.

"Agent Maesin," I say.

"Maesin, I need you to meet me at 756 Memory Lane. Apt 2526. The zip is 23865."

"Is it another break in," I ask.

"Just get here. You’ll need to see this."

She hangs up the phone, leaving me in suspense.

The address auto populates in my GPS, so I cruise toward my location.

The weather worsens as ribbons of water began dropping from the sky. I pass by large city buildings, all gray in color. City lights snap their fingers, as the loose fuses within them powered off and on in unison with the beat of the rain.

The wind flows through the empty-handed streets as rain battles with my windshield wipers. 

"Take the next left in 200ft and then you will be at your destination," the GPS blurts, interrupting my thoughts. I press the end button on the screen to cut off the GPS.

I arrive in front of the apartment complex. It is a tall building dipped in red with white streaks down each side. I close my door, putting on my crime scene necklace and step into the hideous, organ colored building.

The interior looks antiqued, like it had been lived in centuries ago. Cracks in the walls slithered down the ceiling and buckets, filled with water lie scattered around the lobby. 

"Good evening, ma'am, my name is Harry Maesin and I am with the Federal Mortuary agency and I am here on official bus-"

She interrupts me by sliding room keys down the desk. 

"Yo friends are upstairs. Somebody die again or sumthin," she asks while ripping apart a piece of bubble gum with her stained teeth.

"That information is-"

"Classified, yeah I got it. You DP's are all the same."

She could call me the "death police," all she wanted. But someone had to do my job, even if it meant lingering around a shithole like this.

I take the keys and head toward the elevator. I press the jammed button and the elevator creaks closed. I ascend into the unknown as my ears began to pop from the pressure. The doors open and the smell of the 24th floor bites at my nostrils, leaving its mark of stench with me.

I walk down the old hall and hear the crime scene unit snapping photos and moving about the scene, then I see Gloria, my old partner, standing akimbo outside the room. 

"Ah, Maesin, I'm happy you finally decided to join us."

"Sorry, I was really busy taking in the beautiful city."

Her face frowns up. "That joke wasn't funny last week and it sure as hell isn't funny now."

"It gets you heated though, so I think it's a pretty good joke."

She sighs. 

"Maesin, there's something strange going on here. Like, something we've...I've never seen before."

"What do you mean," I ask, slightly concerned.

"You just have to see for yourself."

Gloria and I ran cases for years as federal agents. We investigated many deaths because, well, they happened quite often. Our supervisor decided to push us into more of a solo approach to these investigations because finding people like "us" was rare. He figured dividing the work between us would get more work done, but honestly, it's no way anyone could get all this done alone.

She walks through the tangible police tape as her crime scene necklace lights up. I shadow her into the crime scene. Agents in plastic suits pick at the scene, like a thick scab.

Blood.

Blood blanketed every facet of the room. It is unlike anything I've ever seen before. The vicious aroma continued to teethe at my nostrils.

"What the hell happened here," I say while attempting to capture every part of the room in my mind.

"That's where we're at a stand still," Gloria says.

"Where is the body," I say, ransacking the room with my eyes.

"It's...gone."

"What are you talking about?"

"The body was turned into liquid. There's obviously no way of coming back from that." 

"Liquid," I say, puzzled at the thought. 

"The owner of the room, according to the hotel records, was a Delvin Miller."

She pulls out a photo and hands it off to me.

"Well, there's no use for this anymore," I say.

"We've already retrieved samples of the blood, along with the phone that was on his...person. I have already sent them off to the lab and the phone to evidence."

"Alright, I'll call them on the way there to see what we got," I say, walking out of the room.

"Wait, we're not done here yet, we have to interview the residents."

"I'll just let you handle that part, Glory."

Gloria stumps outside the crime scene behind me.

"Damnit Maesin, you can't just walk outta here again. I covered for your ass before and I got chewed out."

I turn around and see an angry-faced, 5"3 woman with her fists balled.

"Look, Gloria, we're friends, right? I need you to handle this part of the investigation while I go check on the evidence. Splitting the work is much faster, wouldn't you agree?"

"You just love being a renegade, don't you," she asks, folding her arms. 

"People die all the time, but this is different, so I think it'll be better if we split up and regroup, alright?"

She sighs.

"Fine, asshole, but you better come up with something before I do."

"I always do, Glory," I say with a smile.

"You won't be able to try this shit with your new partner, you know?"

I stop in my tracks and groan.

"Don't remind me."

I head back to the lobby and through the front doors.

"Hey, death police," the receptionist yells obnoxiously.

I turn around.

"My name is-"

"Yeah, that's nice. But I was wondering if all this commotion was gonna charge me?"

"Charge you? Why would you be billed premium life pay for death in the apartment complex," I ask confused.

"Well, some guy earlier today said something about how the death on this earth would cost everyone."

"What did this person look like?"

"Fuck if I know, he was wearing a hoodie and a black mask."

My face falls from annoyance.

"Just call us if you see or hear of anything else," I say, throwing up my hand.

I jump into my car and dial the lab as I start up the ignition. I pull out of the space and drive forward. 

The phone does its incessant ringing until someone answers.

"Hello, you reached the FMA, if this call is regarding an accidental death, press 1. If this call is regarding an intentional death, press 2. For special agents, press 8."

I press number 8 and wait again for a human to pick up the phone.

"Federal Mortuary Agency. This is Anna, how can I help you?”

"Hi, Anna, this is Harry Maesin, agent 128, badge number 20682."

I hear typing on the other side of the call.

"Hello, Mr. Maesin, what can I do for you?"

"I'd like access to evidence from an ongoing case. The number is 3268."

"Of course, Mr. Maesin. I will have the evidence ready once you arrive."

"Okay, thank you, I'll be there shortly," I say before hanging up.

I continue down the lonesome road as the rain from before continued its forecast. I think about my time on the force. I think about the case I was over. Something wasn't adding up, but I had no idea how to find out what it was. 

I pull up to the FMA building. It looked like any other business building. Nothing in particular about it screamed, "government agency."

I parked my vehicle in my reserved spot and exited it promptly. I walked up to the glass of the front doors and the camera above them blinked before opening up. 

Inside, agents walked around. Phones rang and stacks of papers slid around desks, like dominoes. I approach the front desk.

"Hello, we spoke earlier, I'm here to view the evidence of the-"

"Excuse me," she says as she takes an incoming call from her headset.

"I just received a call from our director, and he would like for you to see him in his office."

"What could he want," I ask aloud.

She shrugs and opens the door behind her for me via a button under her desk.

I walk into the long stairwell. The room is white and glassy. The staircase goes up for several floors. I look up at the daunting task ahead of me. 

As my feet slide across the opaque stairs I can see a sparkle of sun glinting off them.

This asshole couldn't have gotten any elevators installed?

I make it to the top of the stairs and these giant, metal doors open automatically with an animated sliding sound. His office is huge. It overlooks the entire city. The floors are lined with white marble. And his desk spans wall to wall. It is some type of fancy wood lined with gold. The ceiling has large glassy, chandeliers with light bulbs half the size of tires. 

If I look past the beaming sun I see the director sitting in his leather throne. There also appears to be a man sitting in front of him. They were conversing about something, but as I stepped into the palace, they grew silent.

"Ah, Mr. Maesin, why don't you step in and have a seat," the director asks.

I step inside more and more, like a turtle revealing its head to the world from its shell. 

"I have someone here to meet you."

As I get closer to the desk, the seated man rises from the chair and turns around. 

He appears very young, probably fresh out of training. He bares an almost nervous smile.


"Hello, Mr. Maesin. It's great to finally meet you," he says with an extended hand. 

I slowly look at his hand and then the director.

"Maesin, this is agent Cohen. He will be your new partner."

Fuck, I thought. This was only a running joke between Gloria and I.

Now, it was a reality.

I stared blankly at the kid and the crooked smiling director in front of me.

I shook his hand as if I had the barrel of a gun whispering "bang," into my ears.

"Harry Maesin."

I sat down beside him and let the director talk about the case. And how Cohen would be joining me. There was not a single important part of what was said.

Trust me.

Cohen and I rose from the chairs and headed toward the exit of the giant office.

"Oh. And Maesin."

I stopped in my tracks. 

"Share every piece of details you find with Cohen from now on. I'll have him just do the reporting for practice."

I throw my hand up in acknowledgement.

"I am really excited to start this case with you, sir-"

"Don't. Just call me Maesin."

"Okay, Maesin."

And just as I thought this would be a quiet trek down the stairwell, he begins to speak again...

"I know there isn't a lot of information on the case yet, but that's all a part of the chase I suppose."

The enthusiasm pours from his voice, like leakage from an irradiated barrel. 

We make it to the front of the facility.

"We need to get into the evidence room. Follow me."

Cohen waddles behind me as we surf through the waves of agents. 

We continue until we get to a desk with a woman behind it. A gated area is behind her.

"Hi, I'm here for the evidence from case number 3268."

"Certainly, this action uses premium life pay, do you want to continue in seeing the evidence?"

"Yes."

She swipes my crime scene card and the door opens up behind her.

We go through the door and I immediately scope out the evidence. 

A bag with a cell phone sliding inside, rattles in my hands. 

"We can look into the contents of the victim's phone to maybe find out what led to his...destruction," I say while looking up at Cohen.

"Why did the evidence of the investigation get sent here so early," he asks me.

"Well because death is so frequent, the agency implemented this system to expedite the process. The agents continue to survey the area and question anyone we may tie to the death and the evidence is sent here to basically handle several parts of the investigation all at the same time."

We walk out of the room and close the gate behind us, leaving through the front door.

I press my car open as we near it and I open the driver's side door.

We get in the car and buckle up. I fire up my cigarette after pushing it between my lips.

"I'll just take you home for now and we can meet up later, I got stuff I gotta do," I say between thick smoke and heat.

"Okay."

I press onto the gas peddle and drive through the streets.

He presses the button on the door, opening the window.

The wind seeps through the car, taking ownership of the air inside.

"The woman in front of the evidence locker mentioned something about 'premium life pay,' what did she mean by that?"

"You seriously don't know the answer to that," I ask while occasionally looking his way.

"Well, um, no."

"Damn, that academy didn't teach you shit."

"Well, I'm sure you know that everyone dies, but no one...stays dead, right?"

"Yes, I knew that."

"Okay, well, then you should also know that there's a time limit on when you can come back from death. Premium life pay is a type of currency that we use that adds time to that limit in which you can come back. It's a minor inconvenience, if anything else, but it gets you certain things in life. If instant gratification is your thing."

"But...I thought agents were people who have never died before. Wouldn't that mean they could get whatever they wanted without consequence?"

"If we shared the same premium as a civilian, yeah. But ours works a little different. When we are charged premium pay on official business, It's for accountability. Everything we do is monitored. Whenever we use premiums... let's just say that they'll see to it that we don't abuse it."

After the downpour of conversation drenches the seats, Cohen becomes silent.

"What makes us so special," he asks abruptly.

Ash falls from my cig as I remove it from my mouth.

"What are you on about?"

"Us. The agents. Why does everyone around us just die over and over, but we stay alive?"

I look out the window and slide my hand down the steering wheel as my foot rides the gas pedal.

"Somebody has to clean up the mess. Someone has to see why things are the way they are."

"But is that what we really do?"

"Look. The way I see it, shit happens and there's always a reaction. We are that reaction."

We pull up to his apartment complex.

"Thank you for the ride. I will notify the director when we find something."

"Alright, we'll catch up later," I say.

As he closes the door, my face sterns.

It was that time again.

I drive through the empty streets. The gray skies leaves its dark shadow on the buildings all around.

Following me.

I drive for what seems like hours.

I park my car and exit it promptly. I saunter through the overgrown trees and grass. Past the rising stones and scattered pebbles.

I stop in front of the tombstone. I glare at it with the intent to burn a whole through it.

I light another cigarette and allow smoke to escape my nostrils.

Droplets of rain begin to fall around me.

I get one last look at the stone before the heavy rain clouds my vision.

Harry Maesin.