Blood Opium: The Original Manuscript

By Thomas Serwatka

Blood Opium: The Original Manuscript is the unedited and original paranormal, detective story set in San Francisco, two days before the 1906 infamous earthquake. While Tom was promoting Blood Opium, the 2011 version, several people asked how much he wrote, approximately 50%, and they were interested in reading the original manuscript. The story of Officer Edward Hall, aka Investigator Edward Morgan in the Blood Opium, 2011 version, is quite different in many aspects. Tom contributed to the general outline of the original story as it was being developed but the day-to-day writing was in Bob’s capable hands. We hope you enjoy this version, too.

Blood Opium: The Original Manuscript originated as a vehicle to motivate Robert Serwatka in maintaining a courageous battle against cancer and complications from kidney failure. When other people may have given up, knowing that his or her days were far fewer in number than most of us have to enjoy, Bob attended a writing class and worked on Blood Opium, along with several other books, short stories and screen plays. He never talked of his illness or impending death and he only engaged in conversations that centered on positive action, future enterprises and the anticipated release of Blood Opium. Unfortunately, Bob passed away in December 2010, before the book was finished.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Serwatka
• Release date: Apr 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476427331

Thomas Serwatka

Co-writing a paranormal detective book was not on my “bucket list,” but after my brother passed away, I knew that Bob’s dream of publishing Blood Opium deserved to be fulfilled. With the encouragement from family and friends, I completed the book as a tribute to the courageous man Bob was. My wife, Mary Ann, and I live in Central New York and their daughter, Lindsay, attends Temple University.

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BLOOD OPIUM: The Original Manuscript

By Robert A. Serwatka and Thomas R. Serwatka

Copyright © Robert A. Serwatka and Thomas R. Serwatka 2010

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to anyone who, in spite of illness, injury, handicap or hardship, drags their butt out of bed every day to pursue a worthy goal.

PROLOGUE

Closing my eyes, I saw the life streaming out of the girl’s bodies. I prayed when I opened my eyes again all of the pain and fear would be gone. But it wasn’t, it was only the beginning.

The darkness of the room made it difficult to see. One candle was lit on top of the dresser and all of the windows were covered, blocking the light from outside.

There was an odd smell in the air, a bad smell masked by multiple scents of perfume. I slowed my breathing to not gag.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, I finally saw the two girls sitting on a love seat against the wall. They no longer looked like Mary or Annie. These girls had their hair combed out in an identical manner and gray in color.

Perspiration beaded on my forehead as one of the girls rose from the love seat, drifted toward me and began smelling my neck and face.

Edward, you need to smoke opium with us, she said.

I looked into her glazed eyes and saw she was staring at nothing.

Come Edward, come sit with us, the other girl said.

Now she was circling me, almost floating, her feet barely touching the floor. She was moving so fast I couldn’t focus. By the time my mind registered she had appeared in front of me, she was gone, disappeared.

Behind me I heard a key turn in the door, locking me in. When I looked toward the door she suddenly appeared in front of me again. Both girls pulled me toward the love seat with their arms extended, enticing me to sit between them.

I gasped at their appearance. Each wore identical clothes and make-up. Having seen both wearing make-up before, stage make-up, as well as make-up for a night on the town, nothing they had ever worn looked like this. This make-up was caked on. The color was a white powder, thickly applied as if they had a skin condition or pock-marks they wanted to cover. I felt like I was sitting between two damaged white china dolls.

Their red lipstick was applied poorly. It looked as if they had put on the lipstick and then went to sleep, leaving it streaked across their pillows. The way it was smeared was unusual. It looked as if they had been kissing each other. Then I imagined it wasn’t lipstick at all, but smeared blood.

Edward, it’s been so long since we’ve seen you. It sounded like Mary, but I wasn’t sure.

I sat there transfixed as both girls smelled me and rubbed up against me.

Looking closely at their hair I saw strands of gray and white mixed with red and brown. I’d seen women comb out their hair and add sweet smelling lavender lotions to create a soft feel, but these girls had placed dirty objects in their hair. They had taken dried poppies and twigs, weaving them throughout.

Each wore identical white gloves up to their elbows, identical white corsets with long sleeves, and collars with tiny white buttons that went all the way up their necks. Where the collars ended the make-up began. No bare skin was visible. Their white stockings and garters reminded me of the spin-top toys that were for sale in the larger more expensive department stores.

With a second glance I realized the gloves, the corsets, and the stockings were dirty. They had yellow stains on them and smelled terrible. They were wearing dirty garments and had put perfume all over them with no concern for strength and fragrance.

As my eyes adjusted to the candlelight I could see the apartment was in shambles. The modesty curtain on one of the beds was shredded. All of the lamps were knocked over. Clothes were strewn on the floor and nick-knacks that had once adorned the shelves were smashed against the walls.

What happened here? I asked, no longer sure about anything I was seeing.

Never mind that, we’re just so happy you’re here to smoke opium with us. See the new pipe my secret admirer gave me.

This must be Annie sitting on my left. She was the one who had a secret admirer.

Your admirer…?

Handsome, and a complete gentleman.

He gives her the best gifts, Mary said.

Annie lit the opium pipe, took a draw from it and handed it to me. I made a partial effort to draw on the pipe and Mary grabbed the pipe from my hand and puffed on it madly.

She then shoved the pipe back at me. I went through the exercise of smoking, but didn’t draw smoke into my lungs.

Annie smelled my neck again.

Edward, are you toying with us? You need to smoke more opium if you’re to receive our affections.

It was Mary now lighting the pipe and placing it in my mouth. I couldn’t help but draw on the pipe this time. I felt a warmth rush over me, but I was determined not to let the drug get the better of me.

I tried to rise from the love seat but the girls held me down with uncommon strength. Don’t you just love the attention we’re paying you? We know you’ve had feelings for us for a long time, Mary said.

They began kissing me on either side of my face. I had always dreamt of being in a situation like this, to have two women demand my affections at one time, but this was wrong. When their lips touched my skin they felt cold; cold lips and dead eyes.

I hadn’t shaved and when their make-up covered cheeks brushed against mine the thick crust flaked off and fell to my jacket.

They ran their hands under my shirt. Even with gloves on, their hands were ice cold.

What’s wrong, Edward? Don’t you find us attractive anymore? Annie asked.

I was ready to run, but I needed to find out what had happened and what it all had to do with the strange images of death running through my mind.

My frustration suddenly turned to anger. I was ready to get violent to get answers. If they were the lovely girls I remembered them to be, then I’d be controlled by passion. I’d always had an attraction for both of them. Instead I was revolted.

Sensing I was repulsed, they began to get nasty.

Annie rose so fast I didn’t see her get up and she was standing in front of me.

We’ve asked you nicely to smoke opium with us. Now we’ll hold you down and force you to smoke until we’re satisfied, Annie said.

I made a sudden dash for the door and was half way across the room when Mary grabbed me and slammed me against the wall. I hit the wall so hard the breath was knocked out of me.

You really disappoint me, Edward, Mary said. We offer ourselves to you and you act like you’re not interested. You have never had women as sweet and delicious as us.

As I tried to move my arms I felt Mary’s fingernails under her gloves grow long and dig into my skin.

You will smoke more opium, Mary said. This is your only salvation. You can smoke freely, or we’ll tie you to the chair and force feed smoke into you. It’s up to you.

What’s wrong with you, Edward? Annie smiled. Her voice was soft as it floated around me, carried by the opium rich air. Aren’t you a man anymore? You’d beg to be alone in the apartment with us, and now you act like you’re better than us.

Looking into Annie’s eyes it appeared she was asleep, but with her eyes open. Was this a dream? Or was this reality and my memories of the two girls, the dream?

Mary loosened her grasp on me to see what I would do. I pretended to sit again agreeing to smoke the pipe. I needed a diversion to get their attention.

I remembered Annie had turned the key in the lock. I looked to the door; fortunately the key was still there.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in the back of my neck. Mary had grabbed me and now dug her finger nails viciously into my skin.

I told you not to toy with us! Now draw steadily from the pipe. It felt as if she was going to rip the muscles and veins right out of my body.

The girls had no intention of seducing me; their real intention was to kill me in some sort of opium death ritual.

Annie feverishly stuffed more opium in the pipe and lit it for herself. She then gave the pipe to Mary who sucked greedily on it, loosening her grip on me.

She let her hair roll lazily over her shoulders, drew opium smoke through her nostrils, and slowly passed the pipe to me.

They watched as I reluctantly smoked from the pipe.

Leaning back in the love seat, both girls were pleased with themselves.

I drew from the pipe again, but neither of the women was watching me closely as I held the pipe in front of me allowing the opium rich smoke to billow into the air. The smoke rose to the ceiling and spread throughout the room.

There was now so much smoke in that none of us needed to draw on the pipe to fill our lungs.

I was confused about what to do next. My first thought was to use my revolver to hold them off while I made my way to the door.

By the time they had focused their attention back to me, I had placed the pipe in my mouth and slumped back in to the love seat between the two of them pretending I was lethargic from the effects of the drug.

Annie took the pipe from me, filled it and lit it again. She handed it to me and I handed it directly to Mary.

What I now saw under Mary’s make-up startled me. There were no pock marks, no blemishes, there was no skin at all. Her face had been eaten away leaving only muscles and small bones attached to her skull. What skin was there looked like hanging red meat.

To my astonishment, the two girls started fighting over who was going to have their way with me first. They were pushing each other, hitting each other and pulling each other’s hair.

I jumped up, heading to the door when Annie came spinning toward me like a whirling dervish and hit me so hard I flew across the room, smashing into the dresser and landing on the broken knick knacks that were strewn across the floor.

Over my head the flickering of the candle light caught my attention, and I realized the lone candle was rocking back and forth, floating in mid air.

Hot wax fell onto my chest and the candle itself fell into my lap.

And that’s when I began to scream.

I was on fire and too filled with opium to do much about it.

PART ONE

The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.

---Charles Baudelaire

CHAPTER ONE

My mind was groggy. It was always groggy on mornings when I had started drinking before noon the day before.

I tried to sleep, but strange nightmares stalked me through the night, faces appearing, disappearing, then reappearing and changing into hideous inhuman masks. Last night’s excursion into alcohol madness had been the worst.

I didn’t understand how Mary and Annie could transform themselves in my mind to be unrecognizable. What had brought them to so miserable an existence?

I looked into the broken and chipped mirror hanging lopsided over my bathroom sink and saw another face that I hardly recognized. When I was young I had my mother’s blue eyes. People said my eyes were always smiling. As I grew older they looked more like my father’s gray eyes, sad and distant. Dark circles had appeared under my eyes from lack of sleep, and frown lines crossed my forehead that wouldn’t go away even when I laughed.

I ran a wet comb through my once shiny brown hair that by now had become dark and brittle. I did skip combing my hair once in a while, and had gone to work a few times with my hair still matted down from resting on my pillow.

I’d always been ashamed of the scar I had to the left of my chin. During a fight in

Chinatown I was hit by an Oriental thug wearing a large ring, and the cut had never seemed to heal properly. This often gave me an excuse not to shave, fearing I’d open up old wounds. At times I’d open the scar by mistake to find blood had run down my chin to my collar, ruining another expensive shirt.

After I washed my face, I decided to have a morning drink then abruptly changed my mind. I was determined to show up dockside sober and looking my best. I put on a new suit with silk vest and tie, polished my boots and brushed my hat.

Women always told me that I looked handsome and dressed nicely, but at the same time criticized me for always being unshaven and for not combing my hair.

Edward, you forgot to lock your door again last night, came a sudden voice.

Rose Shaw stood in the open doorway with a sheepish grin on her face. She was the nineteen year old daughter of my land lady. She was a beautiful girl with a desirable body and eyes that lit up all of San Francisco.

Did you have too much to drink again last night? she said, shaking her head. How many times has it been this week, Edward?

You’re apt to get shot barging into a man’s apartment, I replied.

No. You’re apt to get seduced by some strange woman because you left your door open, she smiled.

Tempted as I’d been to let Rose in my room on a few cold nights, I knew once I did I’d be asked to find another place to live.

When I asked if she had any boyfriends her