Chapter Text
At this moment Joel Heyman was 13 years, 5 months, 7 hours, and 5 minutes old. He walked along the sidewalk in his plain boring town with the same boring houses passing by. The chocolate brown labrador in front of him happily wagged its tail and sniffed every object that came in her path. The lab’s name was Abby and she was 3 years, 6 months, 9 hours, and 3 minutes old and not a minute older. Abby barked at what seemed like nothing and lept forward, breaking free from Joel’s line of sight. Joel called out for her, but by the time he stepped off the sidewalk it was too late.
A car came whizzing by out of nowhere. There was a small yelp then the sound of screeching tires against asphalt. The owner of the vehicle stepped out of his car and inspected what he could have possibly hit where as Joel was still frozen in place. He quickly snapped out of his dream like trance and rushed towards the unmoving body of what was his best friend. The man in the car was saying something but Joel wasn’t paying attention. An unknown force seemed to pull his hand towards the deceased pet and with a simple touch his world was changed forever.
The canine opened its eyes and turned to look at her master, sticking out her tongue and wagging her tail happily.
“Oh thank god it’s alright.” The man who owned the car opened the drivers door, “Put a leash on it next time. Don’t want another accident to happen.” And with that he drove off again. Joel, however, was still frozen in his place, squatting in front of the dog who wagged her tail happily and barked in glee. In fear of another car coming by again and ending both their lives; Joel stood to his feet, quickly rushing back to the small townhouse he called home where his mother was busy in the kitchen.
“Hey sweetie, how was the walk?” She asked with the sound of her heeled footsteps on tiled floor. Abby leaped onto the couch, still wagging her tail as it nothing bad happened.
“Good, good.” Joel said going into the kitchen where his mother was preparing supper for the evening. A fly buzzed around her. She quickly grabbed the fly swatter and smacked it against the marble counter where the fly sat. It’s corpse laying limp on the smooth surface. Joel sat at the island next to the fly as his mother returned to cooking. He stared at the unmoving insect for a moment before reaching out and gently touched its small wing. In an instant the fly sprang back to life and flew out the open window which brought Joel’s attention from his ability to bring dead things back to life to a boy that lived across the street.
At this moment Ray was 11 years, 4 months, 6 hours, and 4 minutes old, playing with his pug pup, Austin he named after his big move. His father standing in the kitchen, cooking over the stove. Ray lived across the street from Joel for 3 years, 5 months, 7 hours, and 8 minutes and counting. He moved to Austin from New York where his father and mother were offered jobs. Even if those jobs caused Ray to be alone a few days at a time. Joel admired the boy from a distance. Their shared love of videogames brought them together when his parents forced Joel over to the new family’s home as a welcome. Since then they were virtually inseparable. Over time, however, Joel began feeling more for his younger friend. A feeling he couldn’t describe other than it belonged on one of those cliche soap operas that his mother watched on sunday nights. Ah yes, Joel was in love with the puerto rican boy. A love he’d never admit to him even if he was on his death bed.
Joel was snapped out of his daze over Ray by his mother suddenly collapsing to the floor; Her body unmoving. A blood vessel in her brain burst, killing her instantly. Joel quickly dropped to his mothers side. Panic started to settle in as to what he could do. He reached out to check her pulse when her eyes popped open and her body sat up. Joel pulled his hand back and stood back up, staring at his once-dead-now-alive mother.
“Oh, must have slipped.” She laughed it off as if it was nothing, but Joel knew exactly what happened. It was at this moment that Joel relieved he was different from the other children, that he had something special just waiting to be revealed to the world. But he also knew it was best to keep quiet. The last thing he needed was to be sent to the nut hose from saying he could bring the dead back to life.
His mother continued her cooking when, a minute later, a rapid knocking came from their back kitchen door. Ray stood behind the mesh screen; tears streaming down his face and blubbered words leaking from his mouth. Joel quickly pulled open the door only to be greeted by two skinny arms wrapping around him in a sudden need of affection and comfort. Joel stood still for a moment while Ray tried to dry his tears with the back of his hand. Joel hugged his friend tightly, rubbing comforting circles on his back. After Ray managed to calm down, which didn’t take too long, Joel and his mother learned that Ray’s father suddenly collapsed to the kitchen floor after a sudden heart attack, killing him instantly.
Joel, Ray, and Joel’s mother waited patiently for Ray’s mother to arrive. The paramedics already arrived and hauled Ray’s father’s body away to the hospital to perform an autopsy on the body. Joel’s mother held Ray on the couch, comforting him with small hugs and rubs on his arm. Joel sat in the lounge chair, unable to make eye contact with Ray because he knew what he had done. It was he who killed Ray’s father in exchange for his own mother’s life. When bringing back the dead, there was always a consequence.
Joel Heyman is currently 32 years, 4 months, 7 hours, and 3 minutes old. He is sitting in front of his computer in his office. He and his partner Burnie Burns work together as private detectives for hire. It’s simpler to ask the victim who killed them rather than following maps that can lead to nowhere. There was a soft knocking at his office door.
“Come in.” Joel called out, smoothing out his button up shirt and fixing his hair in precaution of another case walking through the door. He frowned at the sight of Burnie instead though there was a file in his hands.
“Another kill and steal a few blocks away from here. The victim’s daughter hired us to find out who killed her. Think its the same perp who murdered the last three people and stole all their shit?” Burnie questioned, dropping the cream colored folder onto Joel’s desk. During the past two months, three murders occurred in the area of New York where they lived. All the victims unrelated, but were killed the same way. Strangulation by a basic plastic bag. Joel opened the folder and read the bio of the latest victim. It was an old woman named Meredith Jenkins, looking to be about 85 who lived in an apartment in a shady part of town. Why the killer would chose to kill her? That’s what Joel wanted to find out.
“Well, lets go ask her.” Joel stood and pulled on his jacket, tucking the folder under his arm and followed Burnie out to his car. The drive to the morgue was short and quick, being that it was about two blocks away.
“Hey Gus.” Burnie greeted with a welcoming, yet nervous smile. Gus looked up from the documents he was reading and rolled his eyes. He opened a drawer from his desk and pulled out a bundle of keys attached to a large ring.
“Number 304. Five minutes, that’s all I’m giving you.” Burnie took the keys and opened the heavy metal door next to Gus’ desk. The temperature dropped once they stepped inside the room with refrigerated drawers where the bodies were kept. Burnie found the number where the old woman’s body was stored and unlocked the drawer, sliding it open.
“Ready?” Burnie asked, looking at Joel than the old woman’s body. Joel nodded, pulling back his coat sleeve to reveal his watch. He took a deep breath and set the timer for one minute, quickly tapping the old woman after the timer started. The old woman’s eyes popped open as she turned to look at Joel and Burnie.
“Wh-what’s happening? Am I dead?” She asked, terror struck in her face and words.
“Yes Mrs. Jenkins, I’m sorry, but we need you to answer a few questions for us. Did you see anything when your killer attacked you? A face or..?” Joel quickly questioned, glancing at his watch every few seconds.
“O-oh no. I was in my kitchen baking a pie when someone came up from behind and strangled me! Not a pleasant way to go.” She sighed. “Do you mind telling my daughter-” The old woman was cut off short by Joel quickly tapping her on the forehead again, her body draining of all life and returning to the corpse it was before.
“Joel!” Burnie hissed, glaring at his partner who held his hands up in defence.
“Hey I only had one minute!” Joel replied, sliding the metal drawer back onto its place. Burnie rolled his eyes, muttering a ‘yeah yeah’ before locking the drawer and leaving the refrigerated room.
“Find anything?” Gus asked, now flipping through a magazine.
“Nope.” Brunie huffed, dropping the keys onto Gus’ lap and trudged back outside where Joel’s car was waiting for them.
“No evidence. No witnesses. No word from the victims. Face it Burnie, this case has gone cold.” Joel muttered, sinking down in the drivers seat. The motor hummed as the two sat in silence. Burnie sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“Look it’s been a long day. Let’s just go home and sleep on it. I’m sure something will turn up in the morning.” Joel started driving towards Burnie’s house a little ways away from his apartment. Burnie gave a wave goodbye as he stepped out of the car. Joel did the same before driving back to his shack he called a home.