Deathly Rumors, Residential District

[BrokenCowLeg]

Sun shining through the trees, leaving crooked shadows across the pavement. “Such a nice day to have to walk home, stupid car always dies on me at that same red light.” He mutters to himself. Doctor Gibbs doesn’t mind a good walk; it’s the suit in the middle of the day that bugs him. After a few blocks of dodging cracks and breaks in the sidewalk, he comes to a house with four newspapers on the driveway. “Hmm, Mrs. Reddingway hasn’t home lately has she…” he whispers under his breath as he bends down to see the dates. Just then a newspaper lands by his feet as he bends down.
“S’rry Doc!” a voice calls out across from the street. The doctor whips around to see a kid struggling to balance himself and a newspaper bag all on one bike.
“Joe Crowell! Long time no see eh?” Responded the doctor. And almost in return of the greeting, the kid rode up to him and took the bag off for a breather.
“Yeah, haven’t seen ya since the crap hit the fan at your office! I missed your wise sayings as I gave your paper!” The kid said, voice cracking every once in an awhile.
“Yeah, people coming in for the dumbest reasons, vampires scratches, werewolf claw marks, you would be surprised the imagination of some people around here. Judy can’t even make them sit long enough for me to see them. Claim Satan is gonna come for their soul if they don’t get treated.” Gibbs chuckling to himself at some of things he had heard.
“Yeah, that’s what my grandpa keeps talking about, fleshing zombies living in the poor side of town, but we all know he is crazy.”
“Aya, I get a shock everytime I think of your grandpa trying to tell the mayor his pants were on fire. I have to give it to ya, that was too funny to be shunned upon. Your mom still doing ok?” The doctor’s face went from memories to business.
“Uhhh, yeah, kind of, she is been listen to grandpa, putting up crap all over the house, I can’t stand the smell of the garlic, but whatever she thinks is gonna get her back to health I will support.”
“Well, good for you. Hope she doesn’t hurt herself healin’ herself. If you know what I mean.” The doctor bends down for a cheesy nudge and a wink.
“Heehee, yeah, I catch ya Doc. Well, I better offload these newspapers before I sweat to death.” Joe lifting his bag back over his shoulder.
“Oh, right. Well, have you been down my street yet?
“Nope, here’s yours. Want the one with the funny red tie? I was gonna keep it, but you can have it.”
“Sure, I will put it on my briefcase.” The doctor takes the tie off the newspaper and wrpas it around his briefcase. He looks up just in time to see Joe ride around the corner. “Crazy kids, learn to slow down! I don’t wanna see your butt in my office because a car hit ya!” The doctor yells after the kid, obvious sarcasm hinted in his voice.

[BrokenCowLeg]

Setting his bag and hat down on the kitchen chair, Gibbs leaves the newspaper in hand. He had it rolled up the whole walk home, forgot to read it. Hmm, well I guess I can get in some stock updates in now. He thought as he walked over to the hearth to start himself a cozy little fire. It was idea that counted for him, not the warmth. He fluffed up his armchair and rolled open the paper. A tiny little envelope slips out onto the floor. He is unsure whether to be cautious or curious, things like anthrax kill people you know. Ummm, well, lets see what we got here. Curiosity always wins. He thumbs the envelope over and over, it was sealed extremely well, couldn’t tell which side was the front. Finally he gave, went to the kitchen for a pair of scissors to complete the task. As he walked he remembered it had a special tie. Crap, I don’t think this was intended for me…or was it? “Joe was awfully egger to give it away to me.” He muttered in a low voice to himself. “Well, lets find out what’s inside,” he said as he clipped a side off. As the end of the envelope dropped off, he raised it up to eye level, unsure if he should grab what was inside. Just a piece of paper, all is well. He convinced himself it was safe. His long bony fingers pinched the paper and slipped it out to be read.

‘I know. I know everything. I am not crazy; I need you to meet me. I need you to do as I say. I NEED YOU. Edgar’s cliff, Monday at 3 o’clock. That’s when they are sleeping, we won’t be at risk of DEATH.’

"Hmmm, that’s odd. Well, I am sure the police need to see this." He said as he slipped it back in the envelope, and then slipped the little white package into his suit pocket. “But first! I require a beverage. To the kitchen for a feast!” He exclaimed as if he was leading a ceremony of one.



Scissors (sharp and pointy)

[AnubisGod]

A loud knock came from the door. A slight cough followed. As the door opened, it revealed a young-ish man, in his 20s, at least, wearing a black jacket with a white button-up shirt, khaki pants, and brown loafers. Around his neck hung a camera, with extra film stored in a knapsack on his back. He coughed again slightly, looking a bit uncomfortable. He extends his hand in greeting, smiling a bit at the good doctor.

"Frank West, sir. I'm a photojournalist, I covered wars, you know. If I could, I'd like to ask you a few questions about this whole 'zombie' thing I've been hearing rumors about?"


Nikon Camera [100/100 photos]

[BrokenCowLeg]

"Ummm. Rumors...yes." mutters the Doctor as he releases the hand from the greeting. The man standing in front of him is staring him in the eyes. This guy must have seen hell and came back to tell the story. "Ummm, come inside. Have a seat. I just made some juice."

They both walk down the hall, past all of the family pictures of the Gibbs'. Few picures of Frank and Juilia younger. They step into the kitchen, Juilia nods to the guest, trying to balence the phone on her shoulder and do dishes. As they walk to teh table, she points out the large clear container holding freshly made apple juice, Frank's favorite. The doctor offers his guest a seat at the kitchen table as they walk towards the big oval table. "Have a seat, honey, can him and I speak alone?" he directs toward his wife.

"Ummm, yes love. So Mary, did you find if bridge night was..." her voice trails off as she hurries to the bathroom to rinse off her hands from the dripping suds.

"So, Mister...West was it?" The gentleman in the chair nods with acknoledgement. "Well, I ahve been treating paitients for weeks now for everything from vampire bites to werewolf scratches." the doctor pauses to chuckle. "But they have been getting really superstitious, and well...I dont know what to make of it. I don't believe in ghosts and that kind of stuff, too crazy for my tastes. Know what I mean? Wars you say?" The doctor now leaning on the back of the head chair. His stare trying to read the photographer's eyes.

[AnubisGod]

"Oh yeah, all kinds of wars. Lego wars, Star Wars, zombies in a mall, you know, that kind of thing. And a few actual wars. But you mentioned werewolves and things...? Are the people normally this....superstitious?"

Frank teetered in his chair, he was a bit too tall for it, but he didn't seem to care. He messed with his camera lazily, adjusting various functions.

[BrokenCowLeg]

Pondering the effects of war knowledge on the current situation, the doctor strides over to the juice to pour a glass and prepare for a conversation.

“Yes, superstitious doesn’t even come close to describing these people. They seem to think that everything that can be thought of as evil. That the cleansing I can give them through my medical knowledge might be enough to save them from eternal damnation.”

He pauses for a sip.

“While I gaff at them, they believe this without a doubt, well some do. Others just use 'Satan’s touch' as an excuse for their wound until I give them the ability to think otherwise with my gift of scientific wisdom in the medical field.”

Another break in his rant is filled with another sip. The doctor shakes his head at the pungency of the juice. God, I love this stuff.

“You would be surprised how many people are shocked to hear that they just had an infected paper-cut, not a close encounter with a werewolf in their sleep.”

By this time, the doctor had finished his juice and was walking back to the table for a refill.

“Have you dealt with this kind of non-sense in your range of experience? Well, that might be too direct of a question into your lifestyle.” Geez, where are my manners today?

“Hmm, maybe you have some other skills that might aide me. Can you tell me if this is writings of a madman or the encryption of a genius? Because I can’t make either of the instruction; I tried.”

Doctor Gibbs pulls the small envelop out of the suit pocket and hands it to the gentleman seated at his table. As the note hangs in the air, the doctor seems to be worried, not sure if he should let another human see what might have been for him and him alone.

[AnubisGod]

Frank West takes the note carefully, reading it over several times to make sure he understands it all. He opens his mouth once or twice, about to say something, but he stops. He reads it over again, frowning a bit. Handing it back, he slowly stands up.

"I don't know for sure, but I'd say it's worth finding out what the writer has to say. He or she might be onto something."

[BrokenCowLeg]

"Hmmmmmm, really? I mean, the world isn't a saf place these days. By the way, do you know where Edgar's Cliff is? By an chance?"

The doctor seems to love to stare. Is this guy crazy? Hmmmm....hmmmmm... Without notice, the doctor stops leaning on hte head chair and wanders of to the juice container. He picks it up, frown as he holds the giant cup upside-down.

"It seems we are out of happy juice. I will return with more. Julia!"

And with that, he leaves the room.