Worcester Polytechnic Institute
I do not know why everything is so dark. On the Maya Render screen everything was much brighter.
Some things you might not be able to see well. On the bar there are 3 gold coins which is what they use for currency in the movie. On the wall, “Baba Yaga” is written out of what is supposed to be blood.
Beer Bottle
Behind Bar
Bourbon Glass
Pencil
Set
Setting: Detective comes across the scene of a crime, finds a male victim with two gunshot wounds to the chest. Medical examiner checks liver temp, placing time of death around 11:00 pm. Also checks fingerprints to see if he is in the crime database.
Location: Alley in New York City.
Appearance of victim: Male
Clues:
Sources:
My mystery is going to talk place on a small island in cut off from the rest of the world except for by boat. There is a part for the rich taking place on the island when all of a sudden a thunderstorm comes in. The island has is own power system and during a thunderstorm the power flickers on and off. During one of the power outages the one of the visitors is killed but no one knows who’s the murderer. It is know that the murderer is still on the island because the storm has made the seas to rough to travel on. There are various clues left around the body to be used by the guests to try to solve the murder before the police are about to get there.
Detective Jim Kahn was not an experienced detective and in fact, he had never taken a case of this magnitude before. Kahn was ordered to investigate a homicide case at the Gorham Shipyard. The shipyard was forced to be shut down and business was stalled for the day. With reporters surrounding the front gaits of the shipyard and the police station very close to the shore of the docks, Kahn and his small crew raced across the water in the police boat to investigate the scene. The docks of the shipyard covered the shore with warehouses covering the grounds behind them.
As Kahn and his crew moved into the docks, they could see the body of a man laying across a massive anchor. The man looked to have been cut and there was blood on the planks of the docks. Kahn reached down to check the man’s pulse but all he felt was the shock of an ice cold neck of a dead man. Ty, one of Kahn’s crew mates, was convinced that the man had gotten himself tangled in the deadly chains of the twisted anchor while unraveling it, which was a probable suspicion. However, Kahn believed that this could not explain the slash wounds across his chest. Kahn glaced across the docks looking for anything to help them with the investigation. Suddenly he noticed a handprint on a barrel that was up against the overhead doors of the warehouse. Kahn strolled over to the barrel and noticed that the print had been created in blood.
At this point, Kahn knew that this was the scene of a murder! A sharp object had obviously struck the man leading to his death. Kahn looked around for a weapon or object that could have been used. He noticed a hatchet leaning up against the frame of an open overhead door. Kahn walked over to the hatchet to inspect it for evidence. However, it seemed to be clean, but maybe a little too clean. As he reached down to picked it up, there was a loud crash inside the dark warehouse. Kahn’s crew members who had been wandering the scene raced over to the door. Kahn lifted his flashlight from his belt and turned it on. Scanning with the beam of light, Kahn moved inside the warehouse. It had become very quiet and everything seemed still. Kahn shouted, “This is the police. Come out with your hands up!” He turned to his left and suddenly a dark figure plunged towards him…
Never mind the spoon on the floor,
The leak in the wall,
The lack of a door,
I need to find something to plug the holes-
the mites might come back for more!
You wake with an uneasy feeling.
Turning your head to the left, you spot a small, bloody body on the floor.
You survey it for a while. It does not breathe.
Small bloody footprints lead to and from it, almost as if it was left on your rug on purpose.
Almost as if it were a gift.
You look for other clues. The cup of water on your desk is significantly more empty than you thought it was yesterday.
A ball of yarn from your knitting kit has suspiciously become unraveled on the floor.
The blankets on your bed have taken on an unusual shape, almost as if something had joined you there last night…
Suddenly, a shadow creeps in from the doorway.
Jingles.
Billy had just finished his first day of 3rd grade. He was very excited because next week was show and tell and he couldn’t wait to bring in his goldfish and show her off to the class. His goldfish was named Maya and he won her at a fair 4 years ago.
The bus door opened and Billy jumped off running for his house. Warding off his parents questions about the day he bounded upstairs to feed his fish.
Later that day Billy’s parents went upstairs to check on Billy but he wasn’t there. To add to the mystery there was fish food on the floor and a fish net in the sink. Billy is generally very neat and does not leave the toilet seat up but today was an exception. Worst of all, Maya was gone. Confused, his parents took a picture of the mess and went back down stairs.
In the evening Billy came walking downstairs and sat down in the living room to do his homework. His parents confronted him about the state of the upstairs bathroom but a look of confusion came over Billy’s face. Even after they showed him the picture Billy denied he knew what happened. His parents went upstairs but everything was put back in order and Maya was back.
Puzzled, Billy’s parents called Detective Yosef Niam to bring the case of the missing fish to a close.
Your footsteps creak as you go into your workshop like every other day. The lights flicker before they turn on. The first thing you notice is an unusually shaped handprinted seemingly indented into the wall. It seems humanoid, but the fingers seem.. too long. You then realize all the metal seems to have disappeared from the workshop. For the most part, all that remains are the handles of the items that were useful tools. Even the metal hooks that held up your metal balancing ruler are gone, and all that remains of the ruler itself are the tubes that held the liquid and the bracing. The wrenches are gone too, all that remains are the indents were they originally rested. You hear a strange artificial humming – like a machine – coming from just outside the wall to your left. You shudder and wonder if you just missed the… creature that took your metal. Dousing the lights to avoid attracting unnecessary attention, you grasp the metal talisman at your neck, grateful that it is still in your possession.
Detective Speurder didn’t want to be going to the pound. Yeah, he had always seen it and promised Millie he would take her to see the “wittle doggos” at least a hundred times, but he never meant it. But now here he was, on a Saturday night, his one day off, walking into the pound for some mysterious call his boss wouldn’t outright explain.
No one was at the front desk, which he found odd, but he rang their little bell anyways. Ten minutes went by, and still, no one showed up. He rang the bell again. After no one came to help him, he decided to help himself and go into the back, where they kept all the dogs.
The first thing he noticed when he opened the door was the smell. Don’t pounds have to follow some sort of health code? It smelled of wet dog, piss, and something far fouler, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
As Speurder took a step into the hallway, he felt a crunch under his feet. Fearing the worst, he made himself look down, but it was simply dog food. It formed a thin layer over the floor, spilling from a nearby bag that was looked like it was bitten into by a dog.
And that ‘s when he noticed the noise…or rather, the lack thereof.
The hallway stretched for 20 meters or so, with cages lining the entire length, but every single one was empty. Stains showed where dogs had left their marks, with more than one looking like dried blood. Beside each cage was a temporary plaque that described the dog that once inhabited it. Among them, there was Max, a seven-year-old golden retriever who was blind in one eye and Bo Peep who was an eleven-month-old dachshund with only three legs…that died two months ago? Why would they keep her plague up if she had passed on?
That’s when Detective Speurder noticed the scratches on the floor leading to one particular cage that belonged to…Storhund? This cage was clearly the reason he was here, given the gaping hole in the fence and the large scratches both inside and out. He concluded the hound must have broken out, but how? All of the fences were very thick, even for humans. So how did this dog manage to bust one nearly in half?
Speurder looked inside the cage and saw the same as every other cell: the piss stains, matted down hair, and a dried blood. What really caught his eye was the giant bite taken out of the bowl. This dog was definitely not all bark. Looking outside of the cell, he noticed a lone leather shoe, tipped on its side. It was black and seemed to be the type worn by those who wanted to seem more professional than they actually were. Next to the shoe, he spotted what looked like an empty syringe.
That’s when it hit him. This wasn’t a pound. It was an illegal research facility masquerading as a pound. Somewhere here they developed chemical substances to test on these dogs. Most seemed to be fatal, but one…one seemed to have been successful. As successful as you can call a hyperaggressive abnormally strong dog that can break through steel like bamboo. The “researcher” that was monitoring this Storhund must have gotten in his way and been dragged off, his shoe getting left behind as he frantically kicked either the dog or to gain purchase.
This was turning out to be a rather interesting Saturday night after all.
It had been nearly a week since Mrs. Hofman in apartment 15 of the Smith Street Complex had seen her across the hall neighbor, Jerry Omar. Jerry was known to be scarce, but the two nearly always passed each other on the way to their way to work in the morning, exchanging friendly remarks. Mrs. Hofman had noticed his absence Monday morning, not thinking much of it at the time. She had heard a racked coming from his apartment the night before, and assumed he was having a hard morning after the Superbowl. However, as the end of the week approached, her curiosity and concern began to build. She decided to approach Jerry’s door, placing her ear against it, listening for any signs of his presence. As soon as she got close to the door, she was hit with a foul stench. Mrs. Hofman’s concern grew at this discovery, and in the morning her landlord was letting the police into apartment 17 of the Smith Street Complex, to discover a disturbing scene. In the entryway of Mr. Omar’s one bedroom apartment was the tail end of bloody streaks and shoe prints in blood that could be traced into his open kitchen. There, in the kitchen, were the remnants of a gruesome scene. A pool of blood, browning from age, laid in the center of the small kitchen. The edge of the pool was feathered from apparent haphazard cleaning job, indicated by a bloodied scrubby brush laying on the checkered floor. Strewn on the floor, bordering the pool, was a cracked cell phone, smashed glass, and bloodied kitchen knife. No one was sure what to expect when entering apartment 17, but this was certainly not a scene anyone had anticipated. It is unclear at this point what the nature of the incident is, but Mr. Omar has been reported missing and the local police are hard at work on the case.
