Spring 1992 – The Malice in the Pitch


The body, that of a young woman, had been sucked dry of blood but not in the way of a vampire. There was too much left of her and the wounds were large, more like she had been attacked by a large animal than humanoid predator. The black substance smeared on the body also pointed to something different. 

Officer Reyes said, “I shouldn’t be showing this to you. You’ve got no official status.”

I knelt by the corpse and touched the blackness with a gloved hand. The glove stuck momentarily and them came away with the black on it. I sniffed. Pitch. Tar. I looked at Reyes and said, “That’s true Patricia. But I do not think that your killer is the sort of criminal that cares about legalities. Nor do I think you will have much luck arresting him. Or rather, it. Your authority covers human criminals. My deals with a less defined variety.”