Chocolat Noir

Genres: parody Length: micro-fiction Series: x/twitter Reading Time: 3 min Tags: farce Content Warning: Mature content

Detective Red dipped under the crime scene tape stretched taut across the doorway, entering the apartment. He’d been working the human/M&M crime beat for years, and if he’d learned anything in these rat-infested bite-sized boroughs, it’s that everyone wore a shellβ€”and every shell was bound to crack, sooner or later.

Blue Foresenic Techs milled about the room, gathering evidence.

“What have we got?”

A rotund Officer Yellow approached. “One body in the bedroom. Or the remains, at least. Female M&M. Unidentified.”

“And the perp?” Red eyed the milk chocolate stained walls. A streaked trail of smeared handprints lead to the backroom.

“Nothing yet. The apartment is a short-term rental. We’re reaching out to AirBNB.”

“Tch.” Detective Red snorted and stepped forward. Officer Yellow held out his arm, blocking the way. “Sir, I gotta warn you. It’s a real Halloween Horrorshow back there.”

“Hey pal, this might be candy coating.” Red jabbed a thumb at his own shell. “But I ain’t no candy ass. Show me the corpse.”

It was a horrorshow alright, Red had to admit that. Like a fat kid got loose in a fudge factory. White silk sheets lay crumpled on the disheveled mattress, swathes of rich velvety gore splattered up across the headboard. The sickly sweet stench of death lingered in the air.

“Nougat nightmares…” Detective Red muttered under his breath.

Officer Yellow stood beside him, averting his gaze. “That’s all that’s left of her. Except this.” He held up an evidence bag containing a single shard of shellβ€”green in color.

Detective Red took the bag and inspected it.

“Hey!” A Forensic Blue entered the room. “You guys are gonna want to hear this.” He held up a phone. “Recording taken by a neighbor on the other side of the wall. Seems our perp liked to get freaky.”

Officer Yellow scowled. “What kind of creep records people?”

Blue shrugged. “Neighbor says she was screamer. Hard to ignore.”

He pressed play on the clip.

𝑢𝒉, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 π’Šπ’• π’ƒπ’‚π’ƒπ’š. A female voice moaned. 𝑬𝒂𝒕 π’Žπ’†. 𝑰 π’˜π’‚π’π’π’‚ π’Žπ’†π’π’• π’Šπ’ π’šπ’π’–π’“ π’Žπ’π’–π’•π’‰.

“At least she’s enthusiastic,” Blue quipped.

Yellow pulled a face while Red leaned in, listening with intent.

𝑢𝒉, 𝑰’π’Ž π’ˆπ’π’π’π’‚ 𝒆𝒂𝒕 π’šπ’π’– π’‚π’π’“π’Šπ’ˆπ’‰π’•. 𝑰’π’Ž π’ˆπ’π’π’π’‚ π’”π’˜π’‚π’π’π’π’˜ π’šπ’π’– 𝒖𝒑. A male voice growled. 𝑰’π’Ž π’ˆπ’π’π’π’‚ π’ƒπ’“π’†π’‚π’Œ π’šπ’π’–, π’ƒπ’Šπ’•π’„π’‰.

𝑫𝒐 π’Šπ’•. She moaned. π‘©π’“π’†π’‚π’Œ π’šπ’π’–π’“ 𝒔𝒍𝒖𝒕. π‘³π’Šπ’„π’Œ π’Žπ’† 𝒐𝒇𝒇 π’šπ’π’–π’“ π’‡π’Šπ’π’ˆπ’†π’“π’•π’Šπ’‘π’”. 𝑳𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 π’π’π’•π’‰π’Šπ’π’ˆ 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕.

An indecent orgy of squelches and groans emanated from the phone.

“Mars bars,” Yellow covered his mouth in horror. “He’s really eating her.”

The moans rose by octaves, higher and higher, interwoven with a brittle crackle, until at last her voice ruptured into a piercing scream with the gruesome fracture of her shell.

Red and Yellow winced. The recording cutoff.

“And we found something else, sir.” The Forensic Blue held up a pair of white gogo boots.

“A fucked-up recording and a pair of old boots. Not much to go on.” Yellow sighed. “Mars willing, we get fingerprints. Maybe digital analysis on the voice canβ€””

“I know who she was.” Detective Red took a boot in hand, his thumb tracing the blocky, three inch heel.

The Blue blinked. “You do?”

“I’d know these boots anywhere.” Red gazed out the bedroom window with a distant look in his eye.

“How?” Yellow asked.

“She used to wear them for me.” Ξ©