Re: Marvel, SVS office→Staten Island: Louis D & Cris M
See, it was right about now that Cris was cursing this godforsaken place—and it really did seem godforsaken. Where he was from? People used knives. They used guns. Sometimes they got creative, dropped a ladder, drowned each other, things like that. But, no one—and I mean, no one—resorted to one of the ten biblical Plagues of Egypt for inspiration. Cris had just turned his eyes away from Louis to the shrunken, sunken corpse, catching the skepticism, when the ME dangled the evidence bag as if to say, see? Evidence. In a bag marked 'evidence,' I'm not making this up.
But Cris smiled, inexplicably, like maybe this was some practical joke on the new partners—but the ME didn't crack a grin back. Somber as anything, she tossed the bag to Cris, who caught it, and stared. He glanced from the thing in the bag to the body again, noting how any part of it that had once been pink, was ...eaten away, as if from the inside out. 10 hours dead, and he looked like this.
The man crossed himself somberly, because this was an unholy act, whatever it was.
"We need an entomologist. Someone who can tell us how old these things are and if they're indigenous, or... imported."
The detective turned to his partner, plastic rustling in his palm.
"I got a theory," he said grimly. "But I don't think you're gonna like it. I sure as hell don't."