Emergency Use Only

All entries MUST be new works, created just for this contest.  For this first round, the word limit will be 1,000.  Please include your word count at the end of your entry.  There must be at least 3 entrants for the contest.  In the event there are not enough entrants, each participant will receive 750 gps for entering. 
Entries must be in Bitem format. 
The prompt is:

There has been a series of brutal murders in the city.  The manner of the deaths leaves the police baffled as to what is attacking the citizens.  You are walking down the street when you hear a noise.  You go to investigate and are shocked at what you discover.

The Disturbed Tales Contest, this round ends Oct 16th at midnight WDC time.  After that date please cast your vote at the poll, "Disturbed Tales Contest Poll"  for the story you feel is best.
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Emergency Use Only

by Indelibleink

         You're damn right Eddie Rollins was scared to be walking home all alone at eight o'clock on a Thursday night in late September. And he didn't care if it was in the middle of Manhattan, NY or here in tiny Colletaville, Indiana. When somebody's going around hacking innocent citizens to bits, let's face it: Your comfort level is going to waver a bit! Especially when the cops hadn't the foggiest notion as to who might be perpetrating such carnage upon the populace. So Eddie wasn't about to take chances, even if he was a champion lumberjack who had only recently arrived back home to witness his sister's wedding. It would only take one swing of a machete - at least that's what the cops suspected might be the murder weapon based upon the state of the corpses the killer had left behind - to offset the strength that Eddie possessed.

         Although Eddie had been offered a ride home from the just-completed rehearsal dinner, his hotel was only a few blocks away, and it was unusually warm for this time of year, so a walk seemed both inviting and non-threatening. Besides, Eddie reasoned, there had been three murders Tuesday, and two yesterday - and all occurring close to this area - so the chances of the killer coming back to this area a third consecutive night had to be pretty remote. Only partially comforted by those thoughts, Eddie moved along the sparsely-occupied sidewalk. Partly due to fear, and also due to the fact that Eddie was now entering a stretch of burned-out, or otherwise non-functioning street lights, Eddie picked up the pace to a near trot. He noticed that an alley which appeared to run parallel to the street on which he had been walking, and also looked to be better-lit than where he was at the moment. On impulse, Eddie decided that that the alley would be a better route, given the circumstances.

         Not at all fully embracing his decision to take the alley, Eddie continued his brisk trot-like pace in the alley. He was suddenly startled by the meow of a cat on a dumpster, and when he glanced over so his eyes could identify the source of the noise, he felt a sudden lump in his throat. Eddie recognized the smell immediately. The smell of death. The smell of exposed flesh and blood that had been allowed to sit for who-knows-how-long in the incubator-like dumpster. Eddie remembered the smell from the lumber camp near Vancouver after the accident there that was now over a year ago. The smell was exactly the same. Eddie cracked the lid of the dumpster just a crack - only to confirm what he already knew to be the case - the only question now was how many? The tiny slit that Eddie had created just by opening the dumpster lid slightly, allowed enough secondary light for Eddie to see enough body parts for maybe two or three people. Eddie slowly lowered the lid back into place, and with his other, non-bloodied hand removed his cell phone from his pocket and called 9-1-1.

         "Eddie! Is that you?" Looking up, Eddie at first was blinded by the array of flashlights and auxiliary lighting already being set up. "It's me, Ed...it's Roger, from the rehearsal dinner. Remember - we just met a few hours ago? I went straight to my shift after the dinner."

         Of course Eddie remembered Roger. He was the cop that was telling stories about the murders at the rehearsal dinner. Probably not the best dinner topic for conversation but understandable, nevertheless. As it turned out, Roger was a pretty good guy. He took Eddie's statement, and later returned Eddie to the mostly vacant hotel.  "You try and get some rest. Big day tomorrow." Eddie nodded his affirmation; closing and locking the door behind him.

         Eddie laid back on his hotel bed, picked up the TV remote, and decided to try to do a little channel surfing to try and help him fall asleep. It appeared to be working, when Eddie's journey into peaceful sleep was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

         "Eddie...it's Roger. We need to talk...now!" There was a tone of "official business" in Roger's voice this time, compared to the friendly reassurance offered by Roger earlier, which made Eddie uneasy.

         "Roger. What is it?" Eddie asked, while slowly getting off of the bed and keeping an eye on the door, and the open window just to his right.

         "Eddie. I know about the 'accident' in Vancouver. They told me about your head injury. They want to talk to you Eddie. Eddie....I want to talk to you! Listen...We can ta.." Roger was interrupted first by the sound of a fire alarm, and then by a tap on his shoulder. He turned around just in time to see the shiny blade of the ax head speeding just below his jaw and into his adam's apple. A split second later, and Roger's severed head was spinning in an over-and-up motion, spewing a trail of blood as it flew.

         "I didn't do anything in Vancouver, Roger." Eddie's voice was a calm as could be. "There was a terrible accident. Accidents happen." Eddie picked up Roger's decapitated dome, which still had the same disbelieving look of terror that it did moments earlier when there was yet life to be lived from within. "They'll understand in Vancouver, just like they'll understand in Colletaville. Just like the people in the dumpster understand what happened on the way to the rehearsal dinner. It was an emergency. They were all emergencies. You were an emergency, Roger. You'll understand. Accidents happen."

         With that, Eddie took a hankie that extended from Roger's coat pocket, and wiped down the ax. He then walked a bit farther on down the hall until he arrived at the fire hose and ax compartment and returned the ax to it's proper storage space, just under the words, "For Emergency Use Only."

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word count: 997 words