Jeffery Chambers was walking the streets that night. He�d lived like this for the better part of twelve years. �Ever since that bitch Marlene left me for that sum-a-bitch biker,� he would say. He was ragged and tired under his thick coat, but full. That was always something to be proud of, and when St. Vincent de Paul�s is busy that is an accomplishment. He chuckled to himself. He was lucky to even get fed. Those Catholics usually run out by seven. From the church, he walked down Piedmont Road back to his lot. �That damn girl had better not have taken my spot. Told her off last night, thought I�d have never got her to leave,� he muttered to himself. He grabbed the edges of his ratty coat and pulled them around himself. It was freezing.

He left the semi-crowded street for the nearby alley. It lead straight back to Garson Drive, his temporary residence, but maybe not tonight though. It was so cold. He might need to find a shelter. He had a paper in his hand. He pulled it up to his face. He�d swiped it from St. Vincent�s. �Crime Rate Up,� it read. �Don�t leave your houses!� Jeffery laughed out loud, soon degenerating into his hacking smoker�s cough. Can you believe this shit? Nothing but a fucking bunch of pantywaists and bureaucrats throwing �round their weight trying to scare folks. A trash can clattered behind him.

Jeffery whirled around to see what had caused the noise. �The�hell?!�

�Jeff, quit holden� yo own hand and come on.�

Jeff turned back toward the end of the alley. Demarcus was standing at the other end. Jeffery sighed quickly in relief, �What the hell did you do that for?� Demarcus looked confused, �What did I do? Man, I�m all the way over here...say that the paper?� Jeffery looked down at the paper he held down in his hands. He looked slyly over at the man standing at the end of the alley. �So what if it is? You need to go out and just get your own.� Demarcus looked over at the old man. �Don�t want to help a brother out, huh?� Jeff began to laugh, and that quickly turned into a coughing fit. He doubled over with his hacking cough. �Hey, Jeff! Are you alright?!� Demarcus had called out frantically. He seemed to be though. He reached up his hand to signal Demarcus to stop from coming forward. Jeffery took a deep breath and stood up straight. �I�m alright now,� Jeffery called out. He noticed that some of the people from the lot were looking at Demarcus and Jeffery. He lifted his hand to wave to them.

Officer David Jones was on duty that night. The area near St. Vincent was usually quiet around this time of night, just the usual. There were always homeless to scatter and prostitutes to watch for. �What the fuck?!� A man was backing quickly into the road away from the alley across the street. Jones swerved to miss him and almost didn�t make it. His car skidded as he cut the wheel to avoid the black man in the road. As the car halted, Jones had to peel his hands off the wheel. He was pissed. Damn drunks, probably a druggie though. Damn look at his eyes, size of saucers. Jones got out of the car. He was no lightweight; his weight had put him in serious jeopardy of losing his job more than once. �What they hell do you think you�re doing?� he fumed. �Hey, listen here you drugged out...� Then he noticed what the man was staring at. In the road was a severed human head. It was rolling towards them. Jones watched as it rolled to a stop near the man�s feet. Jones looked at it. The man�s dead eyes stared up at him in silent desperation. His mouth seemed to be forming a half-uttered scream.

�Attention all units in the vicinity of Garson Drive Northeast, I have a homicide. Black and White requests assistance.� Detective Thomas Collins reached for his radio. �Dispatch this is Detective Tom Collins. I am currently on Piedmont Road Northeast. I�m en route to the scene. 10-4� Tom flipped on the siren. Damn, there goes my good night�s sleep. A few seconds later another response came over the airwaves. �This is Lieutenant Tressa Cooley with the Atlanta Crime Scene Investigation Unit, dispatch. I�m also en route to the scene.�

Detective Collins turned down Garson Drive to see the black and white. He seemed to be in some sort of discussion with a man. Another unmarked car pulled up beside him; he assumed that this was the lieutenant. He stepped out of the car. He looked over at the patrolman with the notepad in his hand. He sighed, Another loser trying to play detective. Wonder what he�s done to compromise the scene in his feeble attempt to �help you college boys out.� He looked at the officer again, �God I hate the South.� He began to approach the officer.

�Okay,� he tried to see the officer�s badge, �Officer...Jones is it?�

�Yes sir. I�m detainin� this witness for questionin�.� The officer�s twang was like claws across the blackboard for Collins. Never heard of plain English huh?

�I�ll take over here.� He motioned toward the lady emerging from the other car. �Lieutenant Cooley is from Crime Scene Investigations. Go with her and show her exactly what you did and where you did it. I certainly hope you didn�t compromise the scene.� He then glared at the man. Collins leaned in incredibly close to the officer. �I�ll have your badge if you did.�

�But sir...� The officer had a mix of a whine and anger in his voice. He leaned in closely trying to whisper as audibly as he could. �I think this is the culprit.�

Collins smirked. He leaned over to the officer and whispered back, �Why�s that?�

�Because he claims to have seen it happened. He�s even got this crazy story about a monster.� The officer smiled as though he had said something clever. �Anyone else at the scene?� Collins inquired. The officer pointed to three different people. Collins asked them to stay where they were. He looked back at the officer. �You put in the call?�

�Yes, I rounded the corner and saw him,� he was pointing at the suspect, �backing away from the alley. Almost ran over his ass.�

�No one�s had anytime to collaborate stories?�

�The officer replied no; none of the witnesses had talked, only the suspect. That was great. Collins turned and reached inside the patrol car and radioed for three separate patrols. He was going to keep them apart.

Tressa stepped over to her trunk. She was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. She had been going home when she heard the dispatch. She immediately considered not radioing in, but if her superiors ever found out she could just kiss that big fat recommendation good-bye. The things I do for my job, she had thought. She pulled the travel evidence kit from her trunk. The black and white seemed to be in a confrontation with the detective. Didn�t bother her, whatever those men did was none of her business.

The pudgy officer moved in her direction, and approached her with a caution, she assumed was reserved for a lion stalking it�s prey. He strolled up beside the Crown Victoria. �Need a hand with that?� he asked. �No,� she replied, �If anyone is going break this equipment, it will be me. Why did you come over here?�

�The detective said to come and show you what happened and where it happened.� The officer was looking over his shoulder as the detective who was playing referee with the other three witnesses. One man was sitting in the back of the black and white. �Okay then. Show me the scene.� She looked toward the man in the back of the car. She shrugged her shoulder in that direction, �That the suspect?� �Yes ma�am. Caught him in the act,� the overweight officer beamed. �That�s all well and good,� she replied, �but where�s the body?�

She caught him of guard with that question. �Well, you see...all I saw was the head and it was rolling toward the suspect,� he answered plainly. �The head is separated from the body?� Tressa looked at him astonished, �Well it came from someone�s body. Where is the head?� The officer motioned to the street.

Tressa took the kit with her as she ventured out into the street. The officer was behind her. �Listen, did you touch anything? Anything at all?� she asked him. �No. Nothing was touched,� his answer was listless and vapid. She sneered at the ground. �Look, then I don�t need your help. Cordon off the area. No one in but authorized personnel.� The officer looked offended but was compliant to her wishes.

He headed back for the trunk off his car. He slipped the key into the lock and it popped open effortlessly. There was a box of flares and tape he was looking for under the mountains of junk that had accumulated in there. Old candy wrappers and empty Coke cans littered the lining of the trunk. He swept his hand over them pushing everything to the side. There set the box; it was gray, dark, and lifeless in it�s pre-fabricated niche. He pulled it free. It was going to be a long night.

Collins watched as several other black and whites finally pulled up. He told the officers to bring in the people Jones had pointed out. He would question them all separately. He looked over the girl had gotten that dumb hick putting up the yellow tape. Finally, he thought, something he can�t screw up. He moved over to Jones�s black and white. The gentleman from earlier was seated in the back. He opened the door and placed his arm on top of the car. �Well, were you read your rights?� Collins waited for a response. �Yes, sir. But I didn�t do anything.� Collins looked at the man seated there in front of him. He looked worn and used. Not just from life in the streets, but from something else. Something Collins didn�t see very often as a matter of fact. �Do you want to wait for a lawyer? You do have the right to remain silent,� Collins smiled at him. �No, I�d just get a bloodsucking weasel who didn�t care what happened to me. I didn�t do anything. That...that thing killed him.� Collins stared at the man. �What�s your name?� �Demarcus Adams,� the accused answered. �So, if you didn�t kill him want to tell me what you did see?� Collins asked. Demarcus looked up at him, �You�ll think I�m crazy. I know you will. Hell, I think it is crazy myself.�

Collins readied his notebook, �Do you want to tell me?� Demarcus answered yes. �I was walking, ya know. I heard Jeff, well, Jeffery Chambers in the alley. He�s been on the street for a while, see his old lady left him for this other dude and he gets kicked out. Been living here for about 12 years, I�ve been here 6. I hear him bitching about something; think something scared him. I teased him about it. He had the paper he usually steal...is given over at St. Vincent�s. I make a joke and he starts to laugh. Now Jeff has a real bad smokers cough and when he laughs it turns into coughing fits real quick. Anyway he doubles over and I move in to try to help him. Some of the others from the lot start to gather. You ask any of them. I never went in that alley. He starts to wave when he pulls himself up when someone...I�m not even sure it was a person.� �I don�t think I can go on man.� Collins looked down from his notes, the guy was crying. What ever happened seemed to have affected him severely. Collins thought about what to do. Should he take him in? No, if he thinks he�s crazy; well he is probably not. But if he thinks he saw a monster, well a psych evaluation down at Grady probably is a good idea. �Listen,� he said to Demarcus, �I�m going to have you taken down to Grady. Just to be checked out.� Demarcus looked up at him; a scornful look crossed his face. �Knew wouldn�t no one believe me. Dumb ass cop. Hope the damn thing comes back and chews your head off like Jeff.� Collins looked emotionlessly at him, �Swing your legs back in the vehicle.� As soon as Demarcus did so he slammed the door. He went around the trunk of the car to the driver�s side door. He reached in through the open window for the CB. He grabbed it and pulled it outside where he could stand up straight. �Dispatch send me an ambulance to Garson Drive. I need a suspect transferred to Grady Memorial for a psych evaluation.� The dispatcher buzzed him back. �10-4. Ambulance should arrive in 5 minutes.� �10-4,� Collins replied. He reached back in and hung the receiver back on its stand. He leaned back against the cruiser and exhaled. When are these damn freaky murders going to end?

Tressa examined the head. The muscles and bones were torn, not cut. She opened the case and pulled out a pair of latex gloves. She pulled each on quickly letting it snap against her wrist. She lightly touched it. The face was paralyzed. Hmm. Doesn�t feel like Rigor Mortis. Tressa turned it to the side. The head wasn�t yielding many clues, only more questions. She stood up and looked at the head. �He said it was rolling toward the suspect,� she muttered under her breath. She saw the CSI van pull up. She smiled and waved at them. She called out to one of them, �Jim! Jim get over here.� The man she was calling ran under the yellow tape strung around the crime scene. �Tressa, damn, do you ever go home? Think I saw you only...twenty minutes ago,� he joked. �Shut up. Look at this.� She knelt down beside the head. �Whoa,� Jim said, �Someone had some fun. Hand me some gloves.� She reached into the travel kit and pulled out another pair of latex gloves. He pushed back his glasses and pulled on the gloves. �What am I looking at boss lady?� Tressa pointed to the neck, �Look this isn�t consistent with a cut, this looks like a pull. But before you comment, feel the muscles.� Jim reached down and felt the muscles. �What about them? Just Rigor Mortis.� Tressa looked at him crossly. �That�s the problem, that doesn�t feel like Rigor Mortis.� �Well,� Jim said as he stood up, �lets find the body and see. If the body hasn�t set, then this head shouldn�t have either.� Tressa stood up, �I want that tested, you know that.� �Yes ma�am. I do,� he replied. �Uhhh...Tressa where is the body?� She pointed to the alleyway. She reached down and locked the kit. �Let�s go,� she said lugging up the bulky box.

The alleyway wasn�t anything out of the ordinary for Atlanta, just a conglomeration of trash cans, litter, and flanking fire escapes. What was strange was the blood stains on the walls of the buildings. �Jesus. That�s not right. Tressa, you see that?� Jim pointed at the pints of blood now coating the alleyway�s walls, and Tressa was looking upwards. Tressa didn�t respond to him at first. She finally did. �If you think that�s bad. Don�t look up.� Jim looked up though, and let out a scream. Tressa punched him in the arm. �Get it together. This isn�t the first headless corpse you�ve seen.� Jim was still looking at the body of Jeffery Chambers draped across the fire escape landing on the left building. �God, get someone to cordon off this area,� Tressa barked as she bent down to unlock the kit.

Jones had just finished taping off the street when two kids showed up. Well teenagers, really, the boy had to be about 17 and the girl about the same. She was a short Asian girl in a black tank top and jeans. She was wearing faded red sneakers. The boy was taller about six feet, and he had dirty blond hair. He was in a t-shirt and jeans as well. �Hey!� The boy called toward Jones waving his arms in the air. �What happened?� Jones got defensive. �None of your business. Now move along.� The boy didn�t seem to register his response. He just continued asking questions. �Was it a car accident? Did someone get killed?� Jones was becoming annoyed with the tall boy. �Listen kid, ya�ll going to have to hear about it on the news. Get going.� Jones was tapped on his shoulder by one of the crime scene investigators. Jones whirled around; he had begun to reach for his gun. The investigator backed off immediately, curling back in defense. �What the hell do you want?!� The investigator, visibly startled, replied that his boss needed someone to cordon off the alleyway. He needed the tape. �Take it!�� Jones practically threw the tape at him. He had to worry about these two noisy kids and what they would do. Sirens rang from behind them; the ambulance had finally arrived. Jones took his leave of the kids to pull the tape for the ambulance. The girl stared at it and then returned her eyes to the officer. He replaced the tape and was now standing squarely in front of them. She peered around him to see the ambulance unload a stretcher. They opened the back of one of the cars and pulled someone out. An older man was not what she had expected but she was relieved nonetheless. She squinted at the name on the ambulance. She then turned back to the conversation between her companion and the officer.

�You see officer,� the boy continued. But Jones cut him off, �Listen do you want you and your little girlfriend to get arrested? Beat it.� The girl spoke up, �Come on Caleb. Let�s go.� She tugged at his arm and turned around to go. Jones watched as the two of the continued up the street and out of site.

Once out of site Caleb began to talk again, �Why did you stop me Ayane? I could have gotten him to tell us what happened.� Ayane looked over at him. �Caleb, he was going to arrest us. Besides we don�t have to talk to them.� Caleb looked at her puzzled. �What do you mean?� Ayane smiled, � While you were being a chatterbox as usual I saw something. That ambulance was for someone. And that someone was in the back of a police car.� He looked excited, �Do you think it was...� �No,� Ayane said curtly. They rounded the corner back onto Piedmont. �He was too old. Besides, she�s left the area. You know that. They�re taking him to Grady. He got out on his own; I don�t think he was hurt. He might know something.� Ayane approached a BMW Z3. She pulled out the keys and deactivated the alarm. Ayane opened the door and slid into the passenger seat while Caleb rounded the car by sliding across the hood. �Don�t do that to my car!� Caleb held up his hands in a shrug. �Sorry girl,� he said, �I�ve always wanted to do that. � He opened the driver side door. �I�ve always wanted to drive one of these things to you know,� he added. He shut the door. �I�m glad I have a rich friend.� Caleb smiled over at Ayane as he said that. He didn�t get the desired response. She was such a hard case. Ayane fastened her seat belt. �Don�t get us pulled over,� she said sternly. �I also don�t want to get to Grady in an ambulance, Caleb.� He turned the ignition and pulled off.