The Chosen: the Age of Corbin Tyler the Undying

Chapter 2

The police did, in fact, come the next day. The detectives knocked on the door at eleven o'clock, we let them in, and they sat down, and we got right into the questions.

"You found him immediately after the accident, correct?" The man asked.

I nodded. "That is correct."

"When you found him, did he have any noticeable problems?"

"Yes: he was bleeding from his chest when I found him."

"Did you notice anything in his chest?"

"I did not," I said. Then I thought a minute. "I did see him seemingly trying to pull something out."

The man looked at his partner. "He was diffing in his chest?"

"No. He was grasping at the air," I corrected. "But he did grasp something. I saw the slicks of blood. But there was nothing else visible."

The two men smirked but said nothing.

"I'm serious."

"We don't doubt that," the partner told me. "But you have to understand that we have to take everything you say with a grain of salt."

I conceded.

"Was there anything else notable about the crash?" The first man asked.

"No," I said.

They rose. "Thank you for your cooperation. I cannot say for sure that it was foul play, but there was something in Mr. Carr's chest. It was removed however, and before the medics got there. Did you or someone else remove it?"

"I didn't," I told him. "And unless someone got there before me, pulled it out and then left seconds after the crash, I don't think anyone else got close enough."

He nodded. "Thank you. I doubted that you would take it, but I had to ask."

I nodded. "I understand."

They nodded, thanked me again, and then left.

"Well, hopefully that is the last we hear of it," my mom said.

But not me. I wanted to know what stabbed that man.

I opened the door and shouted at the detectives before they got into their car.

"I know you guys can't promise anything, but for my humor, could you let me know if you find out what stabbed that man?"

They smirked again a little bit. "You're right," the lead detective said. "We can't promise anything. But once the investigation is over, you should drop by the police station. I could use an extra set of eyes to make sure I don't forget to put the file into storage."

I smirked. "Okay, thanks." And then I ducked back inside.

-

Yeah. That's how I wish it happened.

Instead, it was much more horrific, and I was left with blood on my hands, and in the floor, and it ultimately resulted in the loss of my house, and even further down the road, the loss of my humanity.

You see, this one event, this one police visit, would spur on the journey of my dreams that would become the journey of my nightmares. It was from these few moments that I would begin to shape into a force even I myself didn't understand, but there were those that did understand, and they wanted to kill me.

So, here is how it actually went:

-

"Thank you. I doubted that you would take it, but I had to ask."

I nodded. "I understand."

They rose to leave, but then, the leader of the two of them stopped suddenly.

"Detective?" I asked.

He turned to me slowly and I watched as a small drop of blood escaped his lips and trailed down his chin.

My eyes widened and I got to my feet as he fell to the floor, blood flowing freely from his mouth.

I knelt next to him while his partner started dialing 911.

The detective had the same wound in his chest that Mr. Carr had. The blood was staining his shirt and suit. His breathing was becoming ragged.

I tried to feel for something in his chest, but there was nothing to be felt. It was just a wound that had appeared from the depths of nowhere.

I tried to staunch the bleeding, but that didn't work.

"Lord," I breathed. "Give me the eyes to see what is happening."

I looked up while I whispered this prayer, and when I looked back down again, I saw that there was a spear, six feet long, golden single bladed, and embedded in the detective's chest.

I reached out gingerly, unsure of the reality of the situation. But when I touched the spear, a surge of terror, confusion, and an adrenaline dump flowed through me.

I gripped it and pulled. It didn't budge.

I yanked a little harder and it slid out a little bit.

I stood up, gripped the shaft with both hands, and pulled.

The spear slid out and I fell backwards. The detective gasped for breath, and when I leaned forward his wound was closing. The blood was still there, obviously, and he had lost a lot of it, He would need a transfusion for sure.

I looked down at the spear in my hand.

"What is it?" The other detective asked. "Is something there?"

"Do you not see it?" I asked, holding the spear out to him.

He reached for it, but when he went to grasp it, his hand passed right through.

"No, I don't."