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The hospital room felt like a sauna. The accumulating body heat from the four detectives in the small space with Bryan, and the hostility flying in his direction, made the room uncomfortable.
His unbroken arm was handcuffed to the metal railing of his bed, along with his one functioning leg. The police officers and hospital staff all presumed him to be a psychotic murderer, and he couldn’t blame them for that reaction. Six people went to the Danver church and only three left. Bryan had stumbled into the emergency room covered in blood and his face looked like someone had taken a cheese grater to it.
The operating room was being prepped for the surgery required for his busted arm, and the detectives were using this time to grill him, trying to find holes in his story. A doctor had come in twice to take him away, and had been turned around by the cops both times. Bryan didn’t believe that to be entirely legal, but his exhaustion kept him from arguing.
“You can’t possibly expect us to buy this bullshit story,” the oldest of the men said. He’d introduced himself as Detective Watson earlier. Bryan tried his best not to laugh at the Watson puns flying through his head.
The detective’s thin, silver hair had been expertly slicked back. Though he had deep lines all over his face, his eyes remained sharp as they inspected Bryan’s face for any reactions or tells.
“Believe me; I know how insane it sounds. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it. Go and talk to Katie or Kyle; they’ll back me up.”
“Ms. Upshaw has lawyered up and your friend is already in surgery.” He looked down at some paperwork in his hand. “The doctors said he nearly bled to death.”
Bryan let out a sigh of relief. Kyle had become unresponsive on the drive down the mountain, and they weren’t sure that he would survive the long trip to the local hospital. The amount of blood in Katie’s backseat had shocked Bryan when the nurses had pulled his friend from the car.
“The doc says that you don’t have any significant head trauma, so I don’t understand how you think that we will believe a giant octopus stomped through the woods and destroyed a church. Nothing you’ve been saying has a made a lick of sense.” The older detective closed the file in his hands and glared at Bryan. He was obviously the boss of the others as they didn’t speak, but stood in the background and listened.
“Send some guys up there and see for yourselves. There is a goddamn tentacle in the middle of the chapel.”
“We don’t need you telling us how to do our jobs. We’ve got men on the way up there, but it isn’t exactly a convenient location now is it? You certainly picked a remote spot to kill off those TV boys didn’t you?”
Bryan couldn’t help but roll his eyes. This had been going on for the last forty-five minutes. He would say something and then they would call him a liar and accuse him of murder. Round and round they went as Bryan sat in his hospital bed, trying not to pass out from the pain in his arm and leg.
“You’ve figured it out! My friend rigged a contest so that we could become interns on a TV show so we could murder them. Where did you learn how to be a detective, reruns of Magnum PI?”
If looks could kill, Bryan would have fallen over dead at that moment. The detective lifted the folder over his shoulder, handing it to one of his subordinates. He walked along the side of Bryan’s bed, wrapping his hand around the railing. The old man looked like he was ready throw a punch.
“You expect us to believe that we won’t be able to find one of the bodies because it’s in another dimension? A place that our ‘ancestors confused with Hell.’ The same world ‘that took Charles Danver’s sanity and the lives of his friends,’ as you put it. You’re going to fry for this. You know that right? If you come clean right now, this very moment, I’ll try and get you life in prison.”
“I’ve told you everything. There should still be some functioning video equipment up there, so you’ll see for yourself soon. My leg and arm are killing me right now, so if you don’t get the hell out of here, I’m going to have to call my lawyer.” Bryan tried his best to cover his bluff. He didn’t have a lawyer, and had never even met one.
The detective threw his hands in the air and stormed to the door with the others following in tow. “You’re going down, kid. It’s going to take more than a lawyer to save your scrawny ass.”
The cell phone clipped to his belt vibrated as he opened the door. He stood in the doorway and flipped it open, smiling at what he saw. “This is one of the officers we sent up to the Danver church. Let’s see what he has to say about your story.” He moved back to the side of Bryan’s bed and pressed a button, turning the speakerphone on. “Talk to me, Jones.”
“Sir, you aren’t going to believe this!” The voice coming from the phone was practically screaming. Even through the static distortion of the crummy speaker, Bryan could tell that the officer at the church was near panic.
“Calm down, Jones. Tell me what you’re seeing.” The stony expression on the detective’s face softened a bit as he listened intently, raising the phone closer to his ear.
“A body is lying in front of the building, cut in two−”
Watson glared at Bryan, believing he had the murderer right in front of him, already in custody.
“−and there is a tentacle the size of a fucking bus lying in the middle of the church!”
The officer on the phone continued yelling, but Bryan couldn’t hear what he said. He was too busy laughing.
*****