Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Red Bull ❯ Vol. Eight Chap Thirty: Love Drugs ( Chapter 30 )

Love Drugs

Her dress was the first thing he noticed. It looked too big on her small frame. She looked like a life-sized doll in the hallway. Her head rested on her chest. She looked so pale. But what stood out most was her dress. The pattern resembled a monarch butterfly. The top barely covered her pale breasts. The sleeves barely held it up on her shoulders. The stiff orange skirt hid her feet. This clearly wasn't her dress.

Vince lifted the victim's head. Her eyes looked so cloudy. Dried vomit crusted around her mouth. The police were called out to a mansion on a private island. The maid was the one who made the call. It took two hours for the police to arrive. Now, they were combing the house. The owner, a young twenty-three-year-old man, stood on the couch in a bathroom robe. He breathed out.

“What happened here?” the cop asked. The young man sighed.

“We had a sex party over the weekend.”

“A sex party?” The cop raised an eyebrow.

“Yep.”

“A sex party here?”

“Yes. It was a marathon thing. All weekend long!” He smiled as he thrust his hips forward. The cop rolled her eyes. Vince was listening the whole time. He too rolled his eyes.

“Who's the girl?” the detective asked. The Playboy shrugged.

“Don't know. So many chicks were here over the weekend.”

“You didn't even notice she was dead?”

“Nope.”

“How?”

The young man shrugged. “Don't know. I was out of it, man.”

“All weekend?”

“Yeah, man!”

Vince shook his head. This fucking guy.

-------

The girl didn't have a name yet. That wasn't her dress as Vince predicted. COD was a drug overdose.

“What kind of drugs?” Vince asked.

“Coke, E, and this strange drug. I can't identify it yet,” the medical examiner said.

“Let me see,” the detective said. He looked over the toxicology report. His eyes scanned the final part. Something about the pattern caught attention.

“Wait a second…” he said. Two more cases had the same drug pattern. Both young women in their twenties, looking for a good night. The first and current victims were casual users. The second one never tried drugs before. Vince ran through all the street drugs everyone was talking about these days. Which one could stop a heart and lungs in seconds, leaving a trail of purple dust in its wake? Vince closed his eyes and tried to think.

Suddenly, his phone rang. He jerked up to sitting straight before fumbling around to answer.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Is this Detective Parkman?” a woman asked nervously on the other line.

“Speaking.”

“I know what killed that girl on Siren Island.”

“Go on…”

There was a pause on the other line. Vince narrowed his eyes.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

“Have you heard of a drug called Psyche?”

“I don't think so.” Another pause over the phone.

“They're new. We started selling them ten days ago.”

“And what does this Psyche drug look like?”

“Small, heart-shaped, and purple.”

“What shade of purple?”

“A whiteish-purple?” She didn't sound too certain about that.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I handed them out at the party. My boss told me to do it.”

Vince narrowed his eyes. Somehow, this sounded familiar. “May I ask who your boss is?” Another pause came over the other line. Vince was about to speak when the caller whispered something into the phone.

“Huh? What did you say?” Vince asked. What he heard next sent him reeling.

“My boss has a message for you,” the caller whispered. She paused before speaking.

“You're getting warmer, Sugar Cheeks.” She hung up before he could speak. The phone dropped out of Vince's hand. Flashbacks of that night flashed in his head.

He lay on his stomach, panting and trembling. Vince still disassociated from the last couple of hours. Cook got dressed in the dark. Before he left, the drug dealer leaned down to Vince's ear.

“You're a great lay, Sugar Cheeks. See you around.” Cook smacked Vince on the ass before walking out of the room, laughing. Vince lay there on his bed and didn't move.

He shivered back in present day. So Cook was involved in this somehow? Vince thought he was going to be sick. Could this get any worse?

Party Monster