Ariadnes Thread ((A quick story))

“I’ve been sat here days, maybe weeks, who can tell anymore. Sat here watching that sleazy dive, that den of hookers and junkies. Scum, but not the scum I’m waiting for. **bleep** these guys are insects, Insects!

I wish I’d never taken this goddam case, wish I was still sat at my desk drinking my whisky from the bottle.The answers found there at least made sense, in their own way.”

“To No-One

January 24th

Another Goddam Monday.No matter what day it is its always Monday, you’d think I’d be used to it, but I’m not.I f*cking hate Mondays, and not for the reason your thinking.Yeh, I know what you’re thinking, people always think the same cr*p.You keep those thoughts, you don’t know me so f*ck you buddy!

It hasn’t rained for days, the street out there looks like hell, its hotter than hell that’s for sure.The air stinks of sweat, sweat of a thousand, a hundred thousand, scumbags.If I had any kinda choice I would have gotten away from this sh*thole long ago, but choice is a privilege guys like me don’t have.The kids down there just smashed one of the fire hydrants.**bleep** kids, their only destiny to become another shadow, another waste of space.No water…Strange, but who cares?

Noon- **bleep**, if there’s one thing I hate its noon.Noon on Monday, now that’s just f*cking great!But I deal with it in my own way.Got this bottle of jack and 6 cubans left so I guess I’m set for a day or two.After that who knows? I haven’t had a case since before Christmas.My pocket’s as dry as that fire hydrant down there.

Oh, I never told you? Sure I f*cking did….well, Truant…Mister Truant to you. Private Investigator.F*ck you again, I know what you’re thinking; Fading Brown trenchcoats, crusty old fedora and a smart mouth.Like I said, you don’t know me so keep quiet.Ok, ok, So I do have a worn old trench and a battered fedora but that’s not the point, don’t presume to know me! I’ve been places you wouldn’t ever goddam dare to think of, seen things you’d never want to imagine.

The Air conditioning is on the blink again, second time this week and its only Monday. I’d laugh if I could but I haven’t laughed since…..who cares? You? No I didn’t think so, so I won’t bother telling you.Another shot of whisky, another step on the road to apathy.Praise the bottle! Wait, sure I just heard something, sure I did…..there it is again.What the….Oh it’s the door, wasn’t expecting that!

//

All suprises today. First the door, then the goddam feds. Always passing the buck, never passing the bucks.At least it’s a case.You’ve got to wonder what these agents do all day, you’d think they’d handle their own goddam sh*t but somehow its always poor joes like me that get all the dirty work.Not that I’m complaining.Now where’d I put that bottle…..”

“Still no sign, must be two weeks now since I found that message, that riddle on the wall. Ordinarily would have thought nothing of it, kids stuff.If it hadn’t been written in the blood of a decapitated lawyer that it.Guess the feds are secretly happy about that one.The Insects still stumble in and out but nothing more. Guess when they said you needed patience they weren’t lying.So patience, here I am, Come and get me!”

January 27th

The news reported sightings of Ghosts in the slums.Guess they didn’t have any real news.I’ve seen things around here than would chill you, but they sure as hell weren’t ghosts.Journalists, D*mn phoney f*cks; Fiction writers with no real talent.Like the cops, no real talent, that’s why guys like me do what we do.

Ghosts! Ha, I’ve got better things to think about.I headed down to Bathary this morning to find this guy, Tommy Gunn.Stupidest Goddam name I ever heard.Tommy’s a rat, a grass, a slimy little f*cking weasel.If anyone knew about this case he would. And he did.For a hundred bucks he would have told me everything, for a punch in the stomach and a gun to his face I got what I needed though.

Seems this case is cursed.It’s been passed around like syphilis.Everyone that’s touched it is dead, or gone, or who f*cking knows what!.You’d think that’d put me off, but it doesn’t. **bleep** Syphillis, **bleep** this case.I won’t toss it aside because a few good men got themselves killed over it.Now I’m the one presuming, Good? Killed? Who cares? You think what you like, I’ll think what I like, that’s the way it works.

Two murders, Two decapitations. Two innocent (?) nobodies dead in their own home. One message.I keep reading it over and over but it still makes no sense.Guess I’d better figure it out.But who the f*ck is Theseus anyway? Maybe it’s the killer, maybe its not…who knows.

February 1st

Another dead (no)body. Same message.Ladies and Gentleman e have a serial killer.That’s what the Sentinel says anyway.Usually I read the Star; sports, gitls and no **bleep** trace of reporting.Today they delivered the wrong paper. 6 years of the Star then one day the Sentinel. Very F*cking Funny!This columnist thinks these murders have something to do with a junkie cult (like I said, journalists, no talent) I’ve heard about these ‘redpills’ they aren’t your common junkie.Smart clothes, sunglasses, guns…f*cking weird bunch of clowns. Who cares?

So I did some reading, You didn’t expect that did you! Theseus, some frat boy greek hero who killed a bull. Bull, minotaur, same sh*t. I flicked through page upon page of historical nonsense making my way through it like I was stuck in some maze (Labyrinth?)I found the way out.Close the F*cking book.No idea what this has to do with the murders.Theseus certainly didn’t sever any heads from what I read, but then I don’t think its him I’m looking for.I’m searching for the Minotaur which means I’m Theseus. Which is bull! I’m no **bleep** hero.

February 2nd

I visited the murder scene today, some old hotel in Stamos.The stench of death still lingers all over my trench. D*mn, that’ll take forever to come off.

It was just like the picture, the room dank and dark, the window boarded up so prevent any trace of light or air into the room.The Chalk outline still there as a reminder of the grisly act. Again the message on the wall, the blood dry and dark on the plaster.

I’ve been to places of death before, but there was something different about that place. As though…..like, the place was meant for death.Now I’m talking of Ghosts! Guess I’ve no talent either.But you know what I say to that, F*ck talent.

“Theseus,

Ariadne’s thread lead you from the Labyrinth.

The Trail of Blood shall bring you back.

There is no escaping my lair.

Minotaur.”

Theseus, minotaur, Ariadne, labyrinth…f*cking nonsense…Trail of blood….wait where’s my map?So many lines on this f*cking map I can’t tell whats real and whats not anymore.Ok, Rogers way, some **bleep**ty block in Uriah and then the dead lawyer in the hotel (What the hell was he doing there anyway?) Three points…three corners………One lead.

February 7th

If there’s one place I hate its everywhere. And I hate MansenPark more than that. F*cking freaks all over the place, ypu’d think it were Halloween!

I’ve been sat here days, maybe weeks, who can tell anymore. Sat here watching that sleazy dive, that den of hookers and junkies. Scum, but not the scum I’m waiting for. **bleep** these guys are insects, Insects!

I wish I’d never taken this goddam case, wish I was still sat at my desk drinking my whisky from the bottle.The answers found there at least made sense, in their own way.

February 13th

Still no sign, must be two weeks now since I found that message, that riddle on the wall. Ordinarily would have thought nothing of it, kids stuff.If it hadn’t been written in the blood of a decapitated lawyer that it.Guess the feds are secretly happy about that one.

The Insects still stumble in and out but nothing more. Guess when they said you needed patience they weren’t lying.So patience, here I am, Come and get me!

Well patience is a goddam coward. Wait…what the….

February 14th

Valentines day. Well one heart got pierced today, I know that but I still can’t believe it.I feel sick, really f*cking sick.But who cares right? Me? Let me check…nope the bottles empty, I’m all the way down that road now.

I saw….what the hell I don’t know, Them.He had shown up first, this guy, this junkie, this redpill. Guess the columnist was right, still no talent though in a guess, Clad out like some **bleep** saville row mannequin. **bleep**. I watched as he waited, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses. F*cking **bleep**.Midnight, the other….the thing, the beast, the bull (sh*t!) the minotaur.

Now theres another dead body…or is there?There was, but its gone. I saw it die, I saw it fall but no goddam body. Strange…but who cares?I can’t tell anymore, I’m the map. So many lines across me half of me ain’t real anymore.What the h*ll am I on about? F*ck you, f*ck you to h*ll buddy.You don’t know me! I don’t even know me myself.

Four words, that’s all that’s left at the scene. Four goddam words. F*ck you.Cases don’t end with questions….do they?

February 15th

What is the Matrix?

What?

Is?

The?

Matrix?

Matrix? What?

Is The Matrix…What?

The Matrix Is What?

Whatisthem??????????atrixwhatisthematrixwhat?thematrixiswhatmat??rixwhatisthematrix whatis??thematrixwhatisthematrixw???hatthematrixiswhatmatrixwhatisthematrix

whatisthematrixwhatisth?????????ematrix?whatthematrixiswhatmatrixwha??????????tisthematrix??????????????????????

February 16th

whatisthematrixwhatisthematrixwhatthematrixiswhatmatrixwhatisthematrix

The Matrix is the Labyrinth? **bleep** you! **bleep** Me! **bleep** us all!

The Matrix is me? The matrix is you? You are me?

February 17th

Where’s my goddam thread? F*cking minotaur probably ate it!

February 26th

I found the way out, Close the f*cking book!

{no further entries}