Tiberious

The weather outside was hot and humid but idyllic nonetheless. Tiberious stood seriously before the corpse with a dash of delightful but detached indifference. Examining the mutilated body intensely, Tiberious allowed his imagination to run circles in his mind.

The inescapable scent of blood filled the air. A blood river that did not know where it was going streamed along the soft ground. His depraved inner thoughts took him into the nether regions of his subconscious. He marveled at how the victim was meticulously cut by the ingenious hand of its perpetrator. What an inglorious act it would be to put such an artist behind bars!

The sweat expunged itself from his forehead down to the side of his face profusely. He wiped his face slowly and rigorously. He shook his head thinking he could jolt himself back into reality. It did for a second but the sudden thought of the terror in the dead stranger's eyes that remained evident captivated him.

It reminded him of those hazy, lazy days when he used to go fishing alone for mud minnows and stone cats as a kid. It was so peaceful it frightened him to the very core of his dubious existence. He carefully collected his catches. The skeletons of their tiny corpses remained in a jar next to the jam and coriander at home. He recalled the day he saw his first body by the riverbank of his youth, 36 years before. He closed his eyes and smiled lightly.

"Detective. Detective!"

His eyes opened.

"Tibs, are you ready? The Chief wants to see your report about the murder ASAP."

He took a deep breath, looked at the body one last time and nodded. In the background he could overhear the Chief. "Yes sir. Tiberious is our best investigator."

Barely turning his head he told his colleague, "I'll be right over."

"We're still on for fish tonight?"

A gleam came to Tibs' eye.

"Yes. Fish."

He laughs.