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Over the Line

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“Where the hell is Becker?!” A typical bureaucratic businessman screamed at his secretary, his fat chin shaking with his booming voice and sweat already pooling in his armpits, “That shithead has been late everyday this week and better have a damn good excuse today or that’s it!”

The mousey woman cowered behind the lenses of her huge glasses, “He didn’t answer his phone when I called him, sir.”

“I’ve had it! When he gets in, send him to my office, so I can fire his stupid ass! He’s an expendable little shit and needs to know that! Expendable!”

“Yes, sir,” she backed slowly out of the room, not making eye contact with the man who had gone completely red in the face and was flopping his arms like some sort of bird-monster.

At about that time, a scrawny man in an unkempt suit plowed through the main door to the office. He panted and one of the other office rats squealed, noticing the blood on his hands and shirt.

“There’s…there’s a dead girl…on the stairs!” He managed to get out between gasps.

 

“What a place to leave a body…” Detective Elliot Stabler observed, looking down at the small figure. The little girl, no more than ten, had been propped up in the corner between the sixth and seventh floors in the back stairwell of this office building. She looked like an oversized doll if you could ignore the blood.

His partner Olivia Benson nodded, feeling a knot in her stomach from the sight. “Why would someone leave a child here in this building?”

The Medical Examiner, Melinda Warner, was crouched down by the girl, poking around nonchalantly, “There are definitely signs of sexual assault, and my best guess right now is that she died of exsanguination. There are at least twenty-seven stab wounds and cuts,  even more scars and not to mention her eyes…I won’t be able to tell what actually did her in until I get her back to autopsy.”

The eyes were haunting - they had been gouged out, leaving gaping holes and trails of red tears down either smooth cheek.

“She wasn’t killed here…” Benson stated, “Not enough blood.”

Warner nodded in agreement, standing and taking off her latex gloves with loud snaps, “I keep thinking that one day I won’t be able to take anymore of this, but that’ll be the day that I stop wanting these bastards put away.”

The two detectives sighed, and then looked toward the member of the forensics team approaching.

The bearded man shook his head, “No sign of blood going up or down the stairs. She must’ve been carried up here in something.”

“The security cameras get anything?” Stabler asked.

“No cameras on this stairwell…but…you do need a keycard to get in…” The man’s voice perked up a bit at the end with a hint of hope.