Squirtle Squad: Special Victims Unit
By Spiral Breeze
The Eminem ring tone blared loudly in the small stuffy room as the iPhone vibrated across the table. Mike the Squirtle rolled over in his half awakened state, forgetting that his girlfriend was sleeping next to him, and nearly pushed her off the bed as he reached for the annoying electronic device.
"Yeah?" His voice was gruff from disuse.
"We got another one down here."
He slammed the phone down, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Another one, another Sunflora geisha killed. Petals plucked. Silk kimono blood stained on the concrete. No fingerprints, no leads. Just a strangled scream in the middle of the night as the bastard dragged the poor girl off to have his way with her. Mike jumped out of bed, and made his way to the bathroom. He splashed some cold water on his face, and took a long piss before flushing the toilet and grabbing his sunglasses from the kitchen counter.
"Baby, where ya goin' this early?" His girlfriend, a Marill asked, clutching her robe around her frame.
"Rosie, get the fuck back ta bed... it ain't none of ya god damn business."
"But Mikey, ya know I get so worried bout ya." She whined, trying to wrap her arms around him.
"I gotta go." He slammed the door behind him and hurried down the stairs and outside the apartment building to the dark and dank streets of Saffron City. He pulled a cigarette and lighter out from his shell and lit up, inhaling deeply, the smoke filling his mouth, he let it out in a huge puff.
"Must be some shit for a water type ta smoke." Another Squirtle said as he pulled a black car up to the curb. "Get in, they got her down on 9th."
"9th, really John?" He questioned in surprise, as he settled himself in the passenger side, closing the door.
"I have no clue what she was doin' down there... but that's where they found her."
They drove on without sirens, the streets empty save for the few prostitutes they met on the corners, selling their wares. Within five minutes they reached the scene, the middle of the street right in front of a florist. 9th street was one of those new gentrified streets. A Starbucks, a florist, a tailor, and baby boutique were some of the stores on this block. Mike and John exited the vehicle, and made their way to where the coroner and medical examiner were bent over the body, already taking pictures. A Xatu greeted them after spitting onto the street.
"They look the petals this time." He stated. "She has so many defensive wounds... and as usual nobody heard a god damned thing." He looked beyond the place they were standing to where a Geodude was mulling about glancing this way and that. "That Geodude says he didn't see or hear a thing. Go use your water gun, you know, rough him up a bit, see if he talks."
John laughed, and made his way over. Mike lingered behind with the Xatu following him to the body on the asphalt. The Sunflora was a mess, her eyes still opened, her mouth slack.
"My sentiments exactly."
"It's been weeks and still no leads."
"Tell the girls to sit tight, don't leave unless absolutely necessary, we'll catch the son of a bitch soon enough."
"I hope so." Mike took one last glance at the poor Sunflora on the ground before they covered her with a white sheet. "I fucking hope so."
To Be Continued...