Chapter 1: Five Hours Before Death
Chapter 1: Five Hours Before Death
“AMELIA!” My boss exclaimed as he walked over to my desk.
“Yes, sir, do you need something?” I say while still looking at my computer.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I need you to tell me about my agenda for this afternoon,” he says urgently while looking at his watch.
“Ah well, sir, you have a one-thirty meeting with one of the board of directors and a six o'clock dinner reservation with the misses” I told my boss while looking up at him.
My boss looks at me and says, “Before I leave for my one-thirty, I need you to come to my office; I need to speak to you about something urgent. Got it.”
“Yes, sir, I understand,” I say, confirming it.
‘What does he want to tell me? Oh, I hope it isn’t what I found out a few days ago,’ I thought as I looked back at my computer. Two days ago, I found out that my boss: Nicholas Anderson, had an illegal import business up and running. And in turn, he paid the mayor to keep quiet about everything. I shook those thoughts out of my head, focusing on my work.
Time flies by and now it is twelve-thirty. I get up from my desk and head to Mr. Anderson’s office on the next floor above. Walking over to the sliver elevator doors, you press one of the buttons on the wall next to the doors. The doors open, and you step in, turning around while the doors shut, pressing the button heading up to the next floor. Hearing the irritating music blaring into the rectangular box, the doors open; indicating, that I am on the next floor.
Walking up to his door, I knock, telling him that I am there. “Come in,” Mr. Anderson said. I open the door and walk into his office. Noticing a few pictures of his family here and there, he looked up from his computer.
“Ah, excellent timing Ms. Cameron; I was about to call you up,” Mr. Anderson said as he pushed himself up from his black leather chair, making eye contact with you.
“May I ask what this is about; you made it seem crucial,” I said looking curious but deep down I know what he may say.
“Uh, yes, I know that you found about my uh business. I must warn you if you tell the authorities or anyone for that matter, you might not get to be forty. Am I clear?” Mr. Anderson says
“Ye-ss, sir-r,” I said, fear plastered onto my face.
“Good, then you may leave.” I placed my hands onto the arms of the chair, pushed my legs up, feeling the pressure of standing. I leave the room and head back downstairs, thinking of what he was saying.
The day went by faster than the flash himself, a mixture of colors; pinks, oranges, and yellows stating that the sun is setting within the west. Shutting everything down and grabbing my purse and coat. I look down at my watch; which looks like it is from the nineties, and it reveals that it is 8:50 p.m. 'Huh has it been five hours already; who would have thought’ I left the gray building and straight to my 1999 navy blue chevy corvette. I slammed the car door closed as I sat down in the driver’s seat. I took out my keys from my purse so that I could start the engine. My keys have two keychains attached to them; one of them is a Slytherin crest, the other is a Gryffindor crest. I placed the keys into the ignition and turned it. The engine roared to life, I got strapped in and I reversed back into the parking lot to head the main road.
It did not take long for Amelia to get to her apartment. She pulled into the parking lot outside the complex, making sure she did not touch the curb, she turned off the engine and took the keys out of the ignition. She grabs her purse, slips her hand into door handle to open it. The door opens and she steps out into the crisp cold air. She steps onto the sidewalk and looks back to her car. Her car was shining from the light created by the lamp post. The wind blowing against her skin, the hair on her skin standing up and she gets a shiver crawling down her spine. Amelia did not pay attention to the ever-growing feeling within the pit of her stomach as she started climbing the stairs to the second floor.
I got to the top of the stairs of the second floor. I walked down the hallway a little bit to reach my apartment. It was about five minutes of walking; I reached my apartment: number 4. I looked over to my right and saw the door where my neighbor Minerva Barnes lives. 'She is such a sweet woman’ I thought as I grabbed my keys to unlock the door. I got my keys into the lock, and I unlocked the door. As I was stepping into my apartment, I am suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of dread; like I should not have entered the apartment. Due to the lights not working, it gave me an eerie and creepy feeling to the atmosphere of the apartment.
It kept getting stronger as I took off my coat, my shoes, and when I placed my keys into the tray. I turn around and locked the door. I went into the kitchen, grab a small glass from one of the cabinets, and went over to the sink to get water. Placing the glass down, I went to turn the faucet on when everything went black. What I did not know right now was that my time to pass on had come.
Opening my eyes, I squint at the moonlight shining through the teal curtains. I tried to move but could not. I looked down and saw my hands were bounded. I turned my head so that I can see my feet, turns out my feet were also bounded.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you” someone said while standing in the shadows.
“Who are you? Why are doing this?” I asked fear rising within me.
“Did you really think he wouldn’t know that you were gathering evidence to give to the police? I mean, Mr. Anderson knew that you knew about the business, so he made an educated guess, and what do you know he was right after all.” The figure said while chuckling slightly.
Fear took ahold of me once I realized what he was talking about. You see, I have been gathering up evidence on my boss. Apparently, he has been bribing the mayor to cover up his import business. I look back at the figure wondering who they are.
“Who are you?” I asked as I stare into the shadows.
“That is unimportant lady” he said while pulling something out of his pockets. I couldn’t tell what it was, but the feeling grew even more stronger as it was before. The figure then walks out of the shadows. His body was slightly brightened but you couldn’t make out his face.
Since you now have a semi-clear view of the man, you notice that he had a Glock 19 9mm Compact. Your grandparents taught you how to hunt and when you were older you went to the shooting range, so you know different types of guns. You watch as he loads ammo into the gun. You look back at the curtains taking in the light of the moon. Hearing footsteps behind you, you realize that the man had walked up to you from behind.
'This is it; this is how I go out, huh’ I thought as I felt the gun was placed on the back of my head. I opened my mouth tasting salt, which meant tears. I was so scared I didn’t realize that I was crying. The tears were flowing down my face at a rapid pace as the man pulled the trigger.
**BANG**
Amelia fell to the ground as blood flows out of her head. Blood spatters across the lightly colored walls and floors turning them crimson red. The man walks towards an open window. Putting the gun back into his pocket, the man got up onto the windowsill. The man looked back at the body, blood pooling around her and glistening in the moonlight. The wind blowing steadily as the man jumped out of the window and onto the pavement below. Walking away from the crime the man had just committed, he wore a sadistic smile on his face.
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Death and Decomposition: a handy guide for fellow crime (fic) writers
I decided to repurpose an old study guide I made for educational purposes because maybe some people will find this useful, or interesting at the very least! (Sorry about the American-English and Fahrenheit)
If the body is “limp”, how long has the person been dead? They will only be limp immediately after death (up to ~2 hrs) or very long after (nearly a day and a half). As for stiffness, complete rigidity doesn’t occur until ~12 hrs, and it doesn’t last very long before rigor reverses. Your characters can end up tearing muscles and breaking bones trying to force body parts in rigor to bend or move if they’re not careful enough because everything is very tense and rigid. Fingers will snap like twigs. Ever heard the expression “you’ll have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands”? Yeah, it’s really not supposed to be easy.
Blood follows gravity! Livor is one of the first noticeable signs of death as in some cases it can begin as near as 30 minutes to 2 hours after death, before even rigor sets in. Has your body been moved before 6-8 hrs? The bruising likely won’t be uniform. Were they lying atop something? Objects can interrupt the bruising. Perhaps they were in a vehicle and the silhouette of a tire lever is visible. Clues! The color of the bruising can also help determine different types of poisoning.
Body temp can be tricky and unreliable at the best of times because there’s so many factors. I’ve been told it’s rarely used to exclusively determine TOD. The magic number is 3. Find three different ways to back up Time of Death. For example: if you’re using algor mortis, find two other indicators of time of death (livor, rigor, insect activity, scene markers). Most writers (myself included) avoid being specific about temperature because really, it can be hard. If you’re really keen on it though, I can show you a fairly simple way of calculating time of death based on temperature in average conditions. Just let me know.
The body is not going to look like a pristine preservation of a human being the whole time! They can’t just be pale and immobile. Other things happen. Was the body found in a river? A lake? It’s not going to be pretty. Adipocere is wild. There’s more to open eyes than just a hazy blue film. If it’s exposed to air and debris, you bet it’ll show. Tache noir can happen in ~7-8 hours. It looks vaguely terrifying if I’m honest. But hey, that’s life! Er, death, rather.
Basically, when you’re writing a crime scene and you want a model corpse with mobility and the fewest visible markers of decomposition, you only really have about 2 hours at most so plan your timeline accordingly if you’re counting on these things! Also, I know pallor mortis is a thing and I didn’t include it because it’s basically useless in determining TOD. Dead bodies get pale. That’s probably the one thing anyone knows. Anyway, happy writing!
Disclaimer: I am not an expert in the field! I’m still just a student. This is information accumulated over the course of my studies and has been reinforced by various sources, primarily my forensics teacher who spent years working in the field before moving to the classroom.
Milk and Honey wallpapers
Has lost my guns, You can’t redeem me
My breathe is tasteless. I am writing this from a life that is baseless. If no one hears me clearly, don’t worry for you don’t have to make effort, keep that with yourself & be happy. No one has to believe me either because this thing is something that not everyone can have a grasp for understanding. I’m not here to express or justify which is right or wrong. Uniquely, this varies person per person.
This is primarily unimaginable on my part since I don’t blame myself either for being the doer of this action. I try to detach and disassociate myself from my SELF. Does it make sense? Yeah, but even so I try my hardest to observe my “life” I still am dead inside out, If I were to attain lasting comfort by being one with the clouds, I will in a heartbeat. I can’t feel I have a symbiotic connection with any person, object, life event, whatever the universe has to offer. This endless struggle of life being unsupported by any single factor is a dark place no human should be in, or ever go through. It is like a constant state of obsession over nothing, leaves me crush myself in cruelty, leaving my nerves appalled, that I do not even want to gasp for that hissing breathe any longer.
Folks, my dearest ppl even when y’all left one by one through the years, we are still inseparable homies. I find this silly, I know that no one can’t ever read this piece of msg, but-- pls just know that
Mom, please don’t ever cry for me, or look for me
Just think of the times I angered you, and you’ll eventually forget me.
Don’t put me inside your heart, so there will be no sensation of pain. Go on with your life, relish and live it to the fullest with passion. Despite that, this girl may not be physically visible anymore, her living memory woulda be honored to see you in a good place. While I go my own way, By then I will just sleep longer.
I need a beauty rest too! Y’know?
Weakening Memories of Crime through Deliberate Suppression
There are some bad memories — whether of a crime or a painful life event — that we’d rather not recall. New research shows that people can successfully inhibit some incriminating memories, reducing the memories’ impact on automatic behaviors and resulting in brain activity similar to that seen in “innocent” participants.
The research is published in Psychological Science, a journal of the Association for Psychological Science.
“In real life, many individuals who take memory detection tests want to distort their results. Using a lab-based crime simulation, we examined whether people can indeed suppress guilty memories and avoid detection,” explains lead researcher Xiaoqing Hu of the University of Texas at Austin. “Our study indicates that suppression can be effective in certain ways, helping us to limit unwanted memories’ influence over our behavior.”
Hu conducted the study when he was a Ph.D. student at Northwestern University with colleagues Zara M. Bergström of the University of Kent and Galen V. Bodenhausen and J. Peter Rosenfeld of Northwestern University.
The researchers recruited 78 undergraduate students and randomly assigned them to one of three groups. Two of the groups, both “guilty” groups, were instructed to find and steal a particular object from a faculty member’s mailbox. The object was actually a ring, but the word “ring” was never mentioned in the instructions. This was to ensure that any evidence of ring-related memories would be the result of committing the actual crime and not from listening to the instructions.
A third group, the “innocent” group, was told to go to the same area and simply write their initials on a piece of poster board.
Some of the guilty students were then told that they shouldn’t allow memory of stealing the ring come to mind at all during the following concealed-information test (CIT) — that is, they were instructed to suppress the memory. The other guilty students and the innocent students were not given any suppression instructions.
The three groups completed a CIT, a brainwave-based test that can be used to evaluate whether an individual has specific knowledge suggesting involvement in a crime. On each trial, participants were presented with either the target item (e.g., the word “ring”) or one of six crime-irrelevant items (e.g., “bracelet,” “necklace,” “watch,” “cufflink,” “locket,” “wallet”) while their brain activity was recorded using EEG. The researchers were specifically interested in looking at the P300, a brainwave that indicates conscious recollection.
The students also completed an autobiographical Implicit Association Test (aIAT) in which they had to indicate whether specific statements were true or false. Response times on the aIAT are thought to reflect the strength of a particular association — the faster the response, the more strongly held that association is, regardless of the person’s explicitly stated thoughts and feelings.
As expected, the researchers found that the guilty participants showed significantly larger P300 responses to the target than to the irrelevant stimuli — but only if they hadn’t been given instructions to suppress memories of the crime.
Those who suppressed crime-related memories showed no difference in P300 activity between the two types of stimuli, resulting in data that were indistinguishable from those of innocent participants.
In addition, suppressed-memory participants were also less likely than the other guilty participants to associate crime-related memories with the truth on the aIAT. However, the data suggested that guilty-suppressors could still be identified via another brainwave, known as the late posterior negativity.
Together, the findings suggest that memory suppression dampens neural activity associated with retrieving memories and also limits the influence of these memories on automatic behavioral responses.
The researchers are planning on exploring this memory suppression effect further, investigating whether it might be applied to other types of personally significant memories.
“For example, we can all recall times when we hurt others or behaved inappropriately and these memories can carry feelings of guilt and shame. Can we suppress these kinds of memories, and what are the consequences of such suppression?” says Hu.
While traumatic memories may seem like an obvious target for suppression, the researchers point out that these memories stem from emotional events involving strong physiological arousal and it’s unclear whether suppression would be effective in reducing their impact.
Bullshit. I fucking miss you babe.
Your presence and shit.
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