Snake's CD Project Story

Note: Just as Red has done, I will be doing for my CD full of songs. I believe I ended up with two CDs of 38 songs, down from the original 44 I had picked out. I didn't wanna make a third CD and I figured I could cut some of the lesser stuff. Anyway here is the first part of my story.

Disc 1
Track 1

Three Fingers
Buckethead & Friends
Enter The Chicken

Sits alone, he’s at home, rafted in a sea of blackness.

The sky was clear this night. The moon’s glow drowned out the stars and illuminated the tops of the elm trees in the yard. Even with the front porch light off, someone could still read the gold plate next to the door that said ‘Henleys’. The large house sat empty and dark in the night, except for a single light in a study downstairs. A man sat at the desk wearing reading glasses that scooted down his nose as he looked over some papers. He would occasionally stop to punch numbers into the large calculator sitting next to him. Then, he would scribble the answers onto another sheet of paper. He itched the top his head, a few strands of his graying hair fell onto his shoulders. They were promptly brushed off onto the floor.

After a long yawn, he took off the reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Bags had developed underneath his eyes; the whites became redder with each passing minute. This time he left the glasses on the desk. He neatly piled the papers together into one stack. Opening the top drawer on the left side of the desk, he filed them and shut the drawer back. The chair slid back as he arose with a distinct crack in both his knees. The green banker’s lamp on his desk was enough light to illuminate the entire study at night. He stared at it briefly before pulling the chain.

He fumbled slightly in the dark, but still found the switch for the light switch. It illuminated the open staircase leading to the second floor. He turned back around checking the lock on the front door. The switch on the knob and the dead bolt were both turned vertical. The brass almost glowed in his dark eyes as the light reflected off of it. Turning back he proceeded up the stairs holding firmly onto the railing with his left hand.

He had ascended halfway up the stairs when a sudden pop caught his action. He looked back downstairs. The house was dark and empty. He held the railing tight as he tried to maneuver to get a better look down the first floor hall into the kitchen. No sound repeated. He shook his head and stuck a finger into his right ear. He moved it around and picked out a bit of yellow wax. He continued his climb up the stairs.

At the top he flipped on the upstairs hall lift and switched off the one lighting the staircase. His feet dragged on the thick carpet as he shuffled down the hall. Finally, at the end of the hall he opened the third door.

He felt the sting in his abdomen before the hand across his mouth. A second thrust drug the knife down his gut making a cross pattern. His mouth tried to clench down on one of the gloved fingers. It was too late. His insides were already spilling onto the floor. The killer grunted struggling to hold up the old man who had gone limp. The man’s dark eyes grew darker as the life faded from them. The killer gently laid the victim down on his stomach. His entrails continued to slip out of his body, the blood soaking deep into the thick carpet.

The killer pulled the old man’s shirt out of the back of his pants. Two small incisions were made into the small of the back in the shape of an X. Then, the killer wiped the knife off on the man’s shirt. Just as quickly and quietly, the old man was alone in the house again.


Disc 1
Track 2
Asleep on the Trail of Tears
The Louie’s
Fruit of the Louie’s

Light of day, dark of night, I don’t wanna be part of the fight.

Justin sat at the edge of his bed. The morning sun shined through the bedroom window forcing the issue every morning. Rubbing his hands over his face one more time, he got up with a sigh and headed off to the bathroom.

The cold water stung as he splashed it across his face. He checked his stubble in the mirror. He could go another day without a shave. He had no reason to keep it clean and smooth. Others at work often commented that it made him look tougher on the job anyway.

After a quick shower, he headed to the closet. It was full of wrinkled shirts, most of which only half hung on their hangers. Most of the pants were on the floor, he grabbed the one pair that wasn’t. He flipped through the three white shirts in the middle of the closet. He grabbed the middle one with noticeably less wrinkles than the other two.

Justin had just slipped on his watch when the doorbell rang. At quick look at the watch showed 8:05. He cursed under his breath as he hurriedly tucked in his shirt and grabbed his wallet off the nightstand. He didn’t even make it to the kitchen this time.

Moving quickly through the living room, Justin opened the front door. A slightly shorter man stood there. He had a sideways smile across his face that usually accompanied a smart-ass remark. Pete, Justin’s partner although he didn’t call him that, held a coffee in each hand.

“Here,” Pete handed Justin the coffee out of his left hand. “I figured you wouldn’t have any made for yourself this morning. You’ve been running later each day.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Justin took a quick sip from the travel cup. He could feel the warm liquid travel all the way down his throat into his stomach. The caffeine gave him the instant boost he had come to rely on in the mornings.

“Come on chief, we are needed already. The coroner will probably be waiting for us to clear the body.” Pete ran his tongue over his moustache after the last sip of coffee.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Hell of a way to start the morning.”

They made their way down the stairs from Justin’s apartment out to the street. A dark blue Ford was parked on the side of the street. The fresh coat of wax reflected the light of day beautifully.

“That is one thing I will never regret,” Justin started in as he opened the passenger door.

“What’s that?”

“Giving you the car. She’s never looked better.”

“Well, I see your apartment every day. I figure you could use one clean sanctuary.”

“Yeah, just drive you wise ass.” Justin sipped on his coffee again. The apartment didn’t always used to look that way. Well, yes it did, it was your house that was nice. His thoughts drifted for a moment. There was a beautiful woman standing in the kitchen. She was making eggs and bacon. He kissed her cheek as he walked by with the morning paper.

“So, like I was saying,” Pete’s voice split through the daydream causing a new headache to form in Justin’s brain. “We gotta get to the scene, real nasty one I am told. This old guy got cut open and his guts are everywhere.”

“Lovely, I’m glad I didn’t have time to eat.”

“What’s with you lately, man? You used to love this shit!” Pete accelerated the blue Ford whether he knew it or not.

“I used to love a lot of things Pete. But like everything else, those things change. People change. Staring death in the face every day, fighting in the eternal struggle of good guys versus bad guys can wear on you. You’ve still got a bit of your life ahead of you, don’t become too obsessed. Eventually, it will ruin you.” Justin left it at that. He hoped that was enough to get Pete to shut up for a little bit. He had a tendency to get a little feisty, a little too excited. Death should excite no one.

The blue Ford traveled on. The inside now absent of chatter. Justin opened the glove box. He grabbed the red light that was inside and plugged it into the cigarette lighter. Rolling down the window, he slapped the light onto the roof off the Ford. He held it for a second to make sure the magnet held. Pete nodded. The Ford’s engine revved loudly as it accelerated down the street, fulfilling its duty to its masters.


Disc 1
Track 3
All Messed Up
The Donnas
Spend The Night

I just can’t get you out of my head.

Pete was a good driver, which was one thing Justin liked about him. He sped through the busy streets with nothing but the red light and an occasional sounding of the horn as a warning to the other cars. Granted everyone was probably waiting for them at the crime scene, but Justin still saw no need to rush things. He stared out the window watching the buildings and houses whiz by giving him just enough time to make out the color of each one.

He felt more tired than usual this morning. His empty, rickety bed did him no favors. He thought he would have adjusted by now, but each passing night was worse. Months had passed, so many he lost count now. He had told Pete she kicked him out. That wasn’t the truth. He couldn’t remember what was anymore. It was lost somewhere in the sleepless nights and the longing memories that followed.

Four years they had been together, that much he did remember. He made detective shortly afterwards. She had to have known what she was getting into. I am who I am. He remembered saying that phrase several times. The truth can turn to evil if shoved in someone’s face too many times. Pete would always retort that we are who we make ourselves to be.

“Kristy,” the name slipped out in a breath between his lips. Pete was honking the horn again and concentrating on the road. No way could he have heard.

These thoughts made his head hurt even more, just like it did every night. “So where are we going?”

“Out to Tilton Park, the manor on the corner of Elm and Apple. Henley’s place.” Just like a good cop, Pete spit out the information sounding more like a computer than a human being.

“Ed Henley’s place? The president of First State Bank?” The shock of the name broke the headache.

“Yeah, that sounds right. You know ‘em?”

Quickly, Justin back peddled to hide his thoughts, “Well, doesn’t everyone?”

“Not me. Although, I guess we will know him a little better in a few.” Pete cranked the wheel to make a sharp left. The houses changed. They were almost there, the nice part of the city.