Chapter 1
Book Two: Darkwood Falls Paranormal Investigators: Dead Deception
Copyright 2022
Written by: M. C. Schmidt
Note: Please do no plagiarize, this is an original work by M.C. Schmidt, and has been copyrighted.
Disclaimer: There is a lot of cursing in this book, so if anyone is uncomfortable with that, I just wanted to give a heads up. I apologize in advance if it bothers you.
Chapter One
“Zoom in on the intestines. Did he yank them out with his bare hands?” I said to my friend and work partner, Nick Chase.
“It looks like it,” Nick said.
I leaned over his shoulder to get a closer look at the laptop in front of him.
“Hey, Shawn?” I heard my cousin Brandon Nelson’s voice behind us.
“What?” I said, reluctantly pulling my eyes from the gore on the screen.
Brandon came into the kitchen where Nick and I had set up my laptop on the table. He stood next to me, his arms crossed over his chest. His bright blue eyes that matched my own looked at us both irritably. He might have been trying to look stern, but that’s hard for a man who is only a few inches taller than myself and has the kindest face I’ve ever seen.
“Did I miss something? Do you live here now?” Brandon said, ignoring me and staring hard at Nick. “It seems like you’re always here.”
“I like hanging out over here. What’s the big deal?” Nick shrugged as he continued to scroll through pictures of blood and guts.
“It’s not a big deal, I’m just pointing out that you two are always together. Where there’s one, I know I can find the other close by,” Brandon said.
“I hang out with you, too,” Nick said, waving his hand dismissively.
“Yeah, but when you’re both here, it’s like being a third wheel,” Brandon said walking over to the fridge and pulling out a 2 liter of soda and a bottle of liquor with a pirate on the front. “You’re inseparable like . . . ”
“Sherlock and Watson? Mulder and Scully?” I said.
“Beavis and Butt-head,” Brandon said, as he mixed himself a rum drink.
“Hey!” Nick and I both said.
“I mean, look at this place! It’s a mess!” he said, gesturing wildly around the kitchen. “There’s beer and soda cans, chip bags, taco bell wrappers. . . and who’s the wuss who drinks apple Smirnoff?” Brandon asked, picking a bottle up from the floor.
“Oh, that’s Nicks,” I said, laughing.
“It is not!” Nick said defensively.
“Okay, but why is it on the floor?” Brandon said, chucking the empty bottle in the trash can.
“I was trying to throw it away. I just missed the can when I threw it,” I admitted.
“Only barely. You were super close,” Nick said, grinning at me.
Brandon closed his eyes as if willing himself to remain calm. If one is as anal about cleanliness as Brandon was, it was slightly understandable to get a bit angry. . . only slightly, though. I have enough problems in my life than to get too upset about shit on the floor. Metaphorical shit. Literal shit on the floor would piss me off a lot.
“And I’m sorry, but I don’t allow pineapple pizza in my home,” Brandon said, walking over to us, drink in hand, and lifting up a slice from the open pizza box on the table. He looked at it as if it were roadkill before dropping it back in the box with a splat.
“Pineapple pizza is fucking amazing,” I said.
“Yeah, what the hell is wrong with you?” Nick added.
Brandon shook his head, “I swear you two are the same person . . . messy, gross, filthy mouthed, and a disturbingly dark sense of humor.”
“I think he’s trying to insult us, but he’s just saying really awesome things,” Nick said to me.
I nodded in agreement.
“And when you’re not together, Shawn’s phone is constantly blowing up with text messages from you,” Brandon went on.
“Hey, we have important stuff to talk about,” Nick said.
Brandon snatched my phone from the table.
“Hey!” I cried out, reaching out to grab it back from him.
Brandon stepped out of reach from me. “Important things like the fact the alcoholic drink you invented last night tasted like a coconut fucked a blueberry?”
I giggled.
“I thought it was important that she knew that,” Nick said sheepishly.
Brandon rolled his eyes, “Right. Exotic fruits mating in your mouth sounds like really critical information.”
“It was important to me, Nick,” I said. We both laughed.
Brandon sighed, “I guess I should just be thankful that things aren’t like they were when you first met each other. I honestly thought one of you might kill the other.”
Nick and I glanced at each other and smirked. “Oh, you mean when we literally crashed into each other in the parking lot, then spent the rest of our time screaming and cursing at each other?” Nick said.
“Hey, first impressions aren’t always accurate,” I said.
“Cheers,” Nick said, holding up his beer. I held up my apple Smirnoff and we clinked our bottles together.
“Oh, boy,” Brandon sighed, turning up his own glass of adult beverage.
“Why are you drinking? You rarely drink,” I said, eyeing the glass in his hand.
“You two make me drink,” he said. He started to walk off but he did a double-take when he glanced at the computer screen. Brandon came to stand over us and he stared at the screen. “Holy crap, that’s a lot of blood.”
“Huh? Oh yeah, I guess,” Nick replied as he kept scrolling.
I took another bite of my pizza.
“Are. . . are you two eating while you’re researching a graphic murder?!" Brandon asked, unable to keep the revulsion out of his voice.
Nick took another bite of his pizza as well. “Yeah. So?” he said thickly between chews.
“You two are disgusting and disturbing. Seek help,” Brandon said, shaking head before he turned again to walk away.
Nick and I glanced at each other and shrugged, then went back to concentrating on the screen in front of us.
“And can you please just clean up a little bit?” Brandon called from the hallway.
“Fine,” Nick and I both said at the same time.
“I don’t think this has anything to do with Mr. Hyde,” I finally said, rubbing my eyes wearily.
Nick sighed and clicked the x button to exit the page he was on, “I think you’re right. This place is over an hour away. There just haven’t been any murders in the town lately.”
I laughed, “You sound disappointed!”
He shot me a guilty grin. “Of course I don’t want people to die. I just want to solve this shit and get on with our lives.”
“I know what you mean,” I said.
Nick stood up and started picking up our garbage. As I watched him, I couldn’t help but smile thinking about how our relationship had progressed in the past month. Only weeks prior, we hated each other. I had just broke up with my shitty boyfriend, quit my shitty job, and moved in with my cousin. When I was in desperate need for a job, my cousin got me hired at his place of employment; The Darkwood Falls Paranormal Investigators. At the time I thought it was all a big joke. I didn’t believe in anything paranormal at the time. . . definitely no afterlife, ghosts, or demons. But after a very bad run-in with a spirit who threw me into a closet, then meeting up with my dead parents at their graves, I was definitely a believer after that. Nick was also part of the group. Him and I had got off on the wrong foot since he was going through a rough break-up at the time as well, but we eventually worked through our differences. . . after I screamed obscenities at him the night I had been attacked by the angry spirit.
“The first murder that we know of that Mr. Hyde committed was Dean Vanmeter. He fucking burned him for his sin of lust; The next in the list of the famous seven deadly sins is gluttony,” I said, picking up a few of my Smirnoff bottles and tossing them in the trash.
It was only a month ago that we had received a letter from a mysterious “Mr. Hyde” claiming he killed the man who was the spirit at my first investigation because of his sin of lust. . . cheating on his wife with a man.
“So, what are you saying? Should we be on the lookout for over-eaters?” Nick asked, picking up the now empty pizza box from the table.
I rolled my eyes. “Gluttony isn’t just overeating. Which, by the way, you ate most of that pizza, so you don’t need to be making fun of anyone for their eating habits.”
Nick laughed. “I wasn’t trying to! It just came out that way. But what else is supposed to be considered gluttonous?”
“It’s basically over-indulgence of anything. Drinks. . .” I said, holding up one of his empty beer bottles, which he immediately snatched from my hand and chucked in the garbage. “Also sex.” I added avoiding his eyes, feeling my face grow hot. How old was I? I was an adult. Saying the word sex in front of a man shouldn’t turn me into an insecure teenager.
Nick raised his eyebrows, “Now that doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Shut-up,” I said, rolling my eyes again.
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the island, his blond hair falling into his blue-green eyes. It was always hard to forget about how attractive he was. Anytime we went anywhere, women were giving him double-takes and shoving their boobs in his face in hopes of attracting his attention. After going through a breakup only 3 months ago, he didn’t seem interested in giving any of them the time of day, though. He had been focused on the group and our investigations. Any spare time he had, he spent at mine and Brandon’s apartment hanging out, or working even more.
“So, the lust sin was punished by fire and brimstone. How was gluttony punished?” he asked me.
“Force-feeding,” I said.
“Like, until they die?”
“Until their stomach explodes, yes,” I said.
Nick made a revolted face.
“Remember Ruby mentioned the movie ‘Seven’?” I asked him, referring to one of our work colleagues.
“If I did, I would have probably known the answer, wouldn’t I?” he said.
“Don’t get smart with me, Chase,” I said, standing up to try to look more intimidating.
He smirked. “It’s a sign of affection from me. If I don’t like you. . . ”
“You make it VERY clear, that’s for sure,” I said.
He looked guilty. “Yeah, well. . . ”
“I’m kidding. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty all over again. I find it humorous now.”
Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it. “It’s getting late. I should probably head home.”
“Yes, you have a long commute walking across the street,” I teased.
“I know. I hope I make it,” he said, winking.
“Goodnight, short stuff,” he said, pushing me playfully.
“Goodnight, Chase,” I said before watching him walk out the door.
I finished cleaning up the mess in the kitchen that Nick and I had left, then shut off my laptop. I went over to the couch with my last remaining Smirnoff in hand, and plopped down, switching on the TV.
“What are you watching?” I heard Brandon’s voice as he entered the room again.
“Ghost Hunters,” I said. “I’m trying to pick up tips from the experts.”
“Brandon came to sit in the recliner next to the sofa. He was grinning.
“What?” I said.
“Nothing, it’s just. . . you’re either working or thinking about work. It’s pretty impressive.”
“Impressive that I love my job?”
“I’m just glad you found something you’re passionate about,” Brandon said.
“If you tell anyone I was optimistic about something, I’ll kill you,” I warned him, trying to turn my attention back to the TV.
“I’ll just come back to haunt you.”
“Yes. You will be the ghost whose soul cannot rest until my drink is resting safely on a coaster,” I said, gesturing to my coaster-less apple Smirnoff in front of me.
Brandon scowled at the bottle as if it offended him. “I’ll also be making sure you don’t throw clothes in the floor,” he said, lifting a random shirt with skull on it from the floor and throwing it over my head, blocking my view of the television.
“Jerk,” I said, yanking the shirt off my head and tossing it back on the floor out of spite.
To Be Continued. . .
