A Demon Restored

Rudy Giuliani was having none of it.  "I was a prosecutor!  I know what a crime scene looks like!  This was obviously staged to embarrass the President!"

"You mean Trump?" asked the sheriff, with his hand on his holstered gun.  (God damned New Yorker!)

"President Trump!" snarled Giuliani.

"Not yet," said the sheriff.  "Is this gonna be your job?  Invading Trump properties to trample crime scenes and harass local law enforcement officers?"

"How dare you speak to me like that?!  The FBI will hear of this!"

"Well, I hope the FBI figures out who leaked my Virginia crime scene investigation to a private citizen who holds no office in our Commonwealth!"

"This murder could have taken place anywhere!  The body was obviously dragged here--"

"Bodies," interrupted the sheriff, who could now eliminate at least a few of his officers from suspicion--since only those few knew about the second body.

"Bodies?!"

The sheriff unholstered his gun and pretended to examine it.  "Now it's time for you to leave, or I'm gonna arrest you--"

"You can't evict me from the Trump National Golf Club!"

"Boys?"

With that, Giuliani retreated hastily, pulling out his phone to call the Donald.

The sheriff sneered and turned around to head back to the area the second body had been found--if you could call it that, he thought.  The forensic pathologist on the scene was certain it was human, but her preliminary thoughts were that the baby had been a victim of some type of genetic experimentation, coupled with some operations.  Clearly some type of appendage (she hesitated to say "tail") had been removed, and the body's covering was a mixture of skin, scales, and scars.  The green tinge might be evidence of a serious chemical imbalance, possibly from poison.  A host of tests would have to be run to determine cause of death.  The sheriff had seen a lot of sickening sights over the years, but this tiny, swastika-tattooed cadaver (recently washed up from the golf course pond) was going to haunt him for a long, long time.  And when this wasn't haunting him, he would be thinking about the Caucasian man whose dismembered parts had been placed in a swastika on the 6th green.

"They'll never know," sighed one of the Shackled, floating nearby.

"They're better off not knowing," said the other ghost.

"But that woman--"

"She'll come to justice eventually."

"Eventually?  How many times do we have to tell ourselves that?"

Somebody who might have been witnesses, but missed it all, were Kevin ("Monkey") Mundy and his teenage bride, Brittani.  Kevin would have told the police that Barbara Hellmeister had simply been attempting experiments to correct her baby's birth defects.  Brittani would have told the police it was not human anyway, and had no soul.  And the murder of the baby's father, Ernest Ironman (Adolf Eichmann's grandson)?  Well, that followed months of bickering about Donald Trump, and the eruption of Ernest's fury when he realized Barbara had accidentally killed the baby.  Some people call another a "Nazi" when disgusted with him or her, but in their case, it had been a knock-down fight about who was not a Nazi.  And Barbara had won that fight.

"You can't keep me locked up here forever!" hissed Brittani, as Kevin tossed an apple and a protein bar into her cage.

"Well, I'm not letting you divorce me!" he snarled, angry that he had been forced to put so much time into setting up this basement prison that he was neglecting his prospecting for gold and diamonds.

"You're a monster, and your friends are, too!"

"White trash like you should not be mocking West Virginia DNA problems!"

"My daddy's gonna kill you!"

"Your daddy's too busy crowing about the KKK-endorsed President-Elect, and harassing people of color down state!"

"I'll kill you myself!"

Kevin scratched under his cursed Rolex and went back upstairs to try to think in peace.

Over on the Arlington shore of the Potomac, Angela de la Paz shivered in the frigid wind.  "I messed up everything."

"No, not you," said the Warrior, putting his centuries' old arm around her.

"I let it happen," said Angela. 

"We all let it happen.  Or none of us let it happen.  Bad things happen."

"Bad things?  I should have stopped all of that!  And now Ardua is back in the river, full of the evil energy she sucked up out there!  I thought the Trump evil would collapse, and she would collapse with it!  That demon is back in the river, and the body count is just beginning!"

"Do you see those ducks?" the Warrior asked without expecting a reply.  "Most of them come for a brief time, eat what they can, barely make ripples in the water.  You were called to do much, much more."

"And failed!"

"Only the arrogant believe themselves incapable of failures.  You have given life and hope to many, and will continue to do so.  This city of men," he said, pointing across the cold water to Washington, "needs you more than ever.  But you are not alone."

Deep in the chilly water, Ardua of the Potomac laughed at the puny humans and trembled with pleasure thinking about the arrival of the one they called "Steve Bannon"--the Kingmaker, the Great Snake, the New Cheney, Darth Vader, Satan's Knight!  And unlike many of the unwitting Washingtonians, this one wanted to be all those things!
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COMING UP:   
Condoleezza Rice places a long bet!