etiolate
[ee-tee-uh-leyt]
verb (used with object)
to cause (a plant) to whiten or grow pale by excluding light.
to etiolate celery.
to cause to become weakened or sickly; drain of color or vigor.
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Detective Weisman watched as one of the officers on duty yawned. The detective clicked his tongue at the poor showing. So what if nobody else was around to see it? An officer of the law should be held to higher standards. He did not say anything though. There were more important things to worry about than some beat cop not getting enough sleep.
“So, what’ve we got?” He asked as he walked into the apartment. One of the CSI boys approached.
“We’re not sure, detective.”
“No sure?”
“Nope. This has got to be the weirdest crime scene we’ve ever seen. Two dead, but we can’t tell what killed them. No wounds, no signs of struggle. Nothing. It looks like they just kind of decided to die.”
“I’ll take a look and see if I can spot something.” Weisman said.
The scene was crawling with people trying to find even the tiniest scrap of evidence, and apparently coming up empty. That along was odd. CSI in this town was quite good. They should be able to find something, even if it was just a stray hair. As he walked around the room, everything did indeed seem normal. With the exception of the two bodies on the couch. They sat slumped over, like they had just gone to sleep and not woken up.
He did take note of the plants though. The CSI boys had tagged them, of course. They were the only other thing odd. They were bone white and withered, like something had sucked all the life out of them. Upon closer inspection, the bodies were the same way. Deathly white, like something had drained them completely.
He heard someone yawn. A quick glance told him it was one of the CSI boys. One of the officers in the areas sat slumped in a chair, like he wanted to go to sleep. Weisman’s eyes narrowed. This was not normal. He examined the people closer. Some were normal, while others looked lethargic. One even seemed like he was being drained of color.
“Everybody out.” The detective said loudly. “Now.”
“Something wrong detective?”
“Yes. Seems like we’re dealing with some unknown weapon. Chemical or biological. I can’t be sure, but it looks like whatever happened to the victims may be happening to us. So get everyone out and call in a quarantine of the building. Them get someone to test the air, every surface and everyone in this room for anything unusual. Everyone stays out of this room, but stays inside the building. Is that understood?”
The response was not nearly as enthusiastic or quick as he would have liked, but everyone did eventually shuffle out of the apartment. Someone was already calling the precinct to get the quarantine set up properly. Once that was done, Detective Weisman leaned against a wall. Once the lab boys could figure out what had done the killing, his job could really begin. But until then, all he could do was wait. Wait to solve the strangest murder of his career.
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Of course it's not something simple. Of course it's going to be something really weird and out of the ordinary. What is it? I have no idea. But it's definitely weird stuff.