âHe said she was hit by a dump truck â I'm sorry, two dump trucks. He said the first dump truck launched her into the air, and she would have probably survived, but another dump truck came by in that split second - while she was upside down and airborne - and the bed caught her on the neck. It ripped her head off. Completely off. He was very specific, sir.â
Like these, but bigger.
âI have the address here, sir. He said he needs you to come down right away to identify the body. And also the head; he wanted me to remind you that they are now two separate thingsâ¦.â
The limo pulled up outside a non-descript strip mall, its facades done up in bright pink imitation stucco.
âDriver, this is the wrong address! I said the Coroner's office; this is aâ¦a fucking Taco Bell!â Geoff spat.
âThis is the address, sir. The paper does specify that it's âaround back,â the driver replied, offering up the scrap of stationary with Janice's clean, professional scrawl and disturbingly graphic diagrams of a little girl being dismembered.
Geoff opened his own door for the first time in six years, and found that his legs had no support in them. The world seemed dimensionless. It was all he could do to numbly follow the few confusing instructions he had, hoping that simply putting one foot in front of the other would take him through this. He clung to the scrap of paper like a grenade with its pin pulled. Geoff rounded the corner and stopped; there was nothing in the barren parking lot but a small green utility shed. Upon closer inspection, he discovered a hand-drawn sign on the door that read simply:
Geoff mustered up what little strength he could, and with shaky hands that seemed to move of their own accord he slowly opened the door, mentally preparing himself to accept all of his worst fears come to lightâ¦.