Dead people didn’t bother me, it’s most of the living that did. The dead were so much easier to tolerate. Not to mention a lot quieter too. With the swipe of a knife or an examination of their mouth, teeth, the heart or tissue, you could tell so much about a person. There were no lies for them to conceal or medical secretes to hide. 

 

Once you opened a person up and examined their insides, the only things to discover were cause of death and health history. When a person died, everything was laid out on the table and I’m not just talking their naked body and organs. Secretes found their way to the surface and truths came to light.  Then an obituary was set in the local newspaper and people grieved.

 

What I have learned is that no matter what death finds us. We can’t change yesterday or plan tomorrow. Whether dying is in god’s plan, caused or a mistake, it is a natural unavoidable part of life.

 

Not much had surprised me anymore either, if anything I got lost in all the natural or creative ways a person could die. All that could be found intrigued and amazed me and it’s what made me feel so alive and appreciate life. 

 

“Funny how that works out.”

 

Now, I thought I had seen it all after all my years in this line of work. I had examined many deaths from babies passing caused by SIDS, to a 106-year-old who died smiling face down in her cake from cardiac arrest while her family and caregivers sang Happy Birthday. 

 

“Hey at least she died happy and was surrounded by loved ones.” 

 

However, out of everything I had seen before, nothing had prepared me for this last case. I was not even supposed to be at work. Originally, I had the night off and had planned to spend it in doors relaxing with my twin watching a movie on Netflix, eating peanut butter chicken and fried rice.

 

The victim was a 42-year-old Canadian Frenchman named Adrien Tremblay. Pronounced dead at his home at 9:15p.m. on February 14, 2024. Found by his neighbor Samuel, who had been walking his dog at the time and noticed Adrien’s front door wide open. He then entered the residence to check on his friend, found him inside unresponsive and immediately called 911.

 

Upon entering the house dozens of daisy petals decorated the floor throughout that led a path from the front entrance to the chair where his dead body sat slumped. Adrien looked as if he would have had an interesting Valentines Day then something went wrong, and the night took an unexpected turn. 

 

His killer had left him blind folded. The letters XOXO written across his forehead in scarlet red lipstick. His hands were held together in front of him with black fuzzy hand cuffs and his mouth agape with a single Hershey’s kiss that peeked out. 

 

“This is exactly why I never celebrated Valentine’s Day.”

 

I untied the blood-soaked blind fold from around his head and then examined the back of it carefully with a little flashlight. It appeared at some point he was struck from behind with an object on the far-left side of his head leaving a long almond like shape indentation.  

 

However, the blow was not what killed him. Although it may have caused some hemorrhaging of the brain, I had reason to believe he would have survived had that been all he endured.  

 

“Unfortunately for him it wasn’t.”

 

His pupils were slightly blood shot, his face flushed, partially covered in spots of petechiae and lips blueish in color showing signs of asphyxia but it wasn’t the Hershey’s kiss that took his life since it was what was poking out of his mouth.  

 

I then checked his nose. There was no nasal bleeding, bone fractures or fragments of materials of any sorts left on his skin that would have shown that he had been suffocated.

 

I observed his neck but found no signs of strangulation such as abrasions, thumbprint shaped bruising or scratches. No ligature marks or fractures to the hyoid bone or thyroid cartilage. 

 

“So, what could have killed him?”

 

Next, I moved on to the handcuffs. Surprisingly, they were not your typical novelty plastic made kind. After they were removed, I examined his hands and arms. He still had some flexibility. Rigor mortis had only just started so I knew he had died only an hour prior.

 

Both of his wrist had some bruising and lacerations around them from the cuffs. His fingernails were clean and showed no signs of discoloration.  My gaze then traveled down to his legs and feet but no other external markings on his body were visible.

 

My attention returned to his face. I removed the little chocolate and peered inside his mouth. His teeth looked to be in good condition but his tongue somewhat swollen and there was something clear and shiny barley poking out beneath the uvula.

 

 I reached in and after some struggling my fingers were able to grasp and take hold of the item lodged in his throat.  I carefully pulled out a crumpled-up sandwich sized Ziplock bag that contained something flat and colorful inside.

 

It was by far the oddest thing I discovered inside someone yet. I uncrumpled the bag and noticed the colorful thing inside was an image. I removed the picture from the plastic to get a better look, smoothed out the creases, then flipped it from front to back.

 

 My heart began to race in my chest. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a picture of Adrien seated outside of a fancy restaurant with a woman who looked exactly like me. On the opposite side there was a written message that read, “He Loved Me Not,” in French and beneath that in bold letters, “Your Next.”

 

“See, this is why I told her one of us should cut our hair or dye it blonde.”

 

 

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