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"I hate death investigations," I stated to my partner as we stood in the living room of a deceased human a week prior. The house was in the south end of the division, near where the wealthy lived. The house was situated in a sleepy part of town, where the medium wealth population mostly resided in. It was somewhat dilapidated, its red paint peeling from the exterior. I had to duck my head in the entrance, my 6'10' frame had some advantages, but small doorways and low cabinets weren't one of them. We talked to the PR (person reporting). He stated that he had was helping his friend out due to his declining illness once a week when he discovered him in the hallway near the bathroom of the home.

When I entered the entrance, the stench hit me like a semi-truck, the musky bitter-sour scent of human decay. It didn't help that I was a feline either, I could smell him from the driveway. The stench when you first smell it, you will never forget it what it smells like. It lingers like a bad hangover from a 21st birthday party, even after you try to feebly wash it out of your fur 2 hours after End of Watch. I stood in the living room doorway looking into the short hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom. In front of me, laid a 300 lb nude body with a bad case of necrolysis coming from a wound on his left calf. From what I could tell from the smell, the man had diabetes and from the wound on his leg, it had appeared to be and old wound that just wouldn't heal. "Yea I hate them too, doesn't help that we've been on a streak of death investigations this past week," my Training Officer stated as he walked over the body to check the bedroom for any foul play.

My Sarge just arrived was talking with the PR and his ride along was in tow, some fresh faced kid trying to get on the department. I asked him, "You've ever seen a dead body?"

"Nope, never have," he replied.

My partner chuckled, "Com'on in."

As I watched him enter, I saw the instantaneous action of the smell hitting his nose, even though he was human, it still has the same effect. "It only gets stronger when you get closer to the body," I said, "It also helps if you have a furry like me when you are trying to find a body in a ware house. Hell, sometimes if it's been a couple weeks, you don't even need a furry like me to find it, just follow the smell." He started to gag and I showed him the way out to the curb, where he puked up his lunch.

About 20 minutes after the puking incident, we talked to my Sergeant, a African American human. "Talked to the PR a bit, he's gonna try to get in touch with the sister, the mom lives in Texas. He said that his friend had gotten bitten by a Brown Recluse about a year ago and the wound just wasn't healing due to his diabetes. I also advised the Watch Commander about it, both him and I agreed that this is gonna require the Coroner to come out and handle it."

"Shit, that's gonna take them a while to get here from downtown, especially in the traffic on the freeway lately," my partner said, "I'll call homicide to see if they wanna come out to check it out. Boot try and get a hold of the guys doctor, see if they can sign the death certificate."

"Roger that. Is your ride along gonna be ok Sarge? He still seems a little green," I asked.

"Yea he'll be ok. Hell I took 2 steps in the living room and said fuck that shit, I'm a supervisor I don't have to deal with that." My partner and I chuckled quietly. "Alright you need me for anything else? Otherwise I'm gonna take off and deal with some bullshit back at the station," Sarge said.

"Na we're good here, we'll wait for the Corner and the sister to get here," my partner replied.

The sergeant then left with his ride along, I asked, "So he wants to get on the department after he gets done with the Marines?"

"Yea seems that way," my partner replied, "He better get a stronger gut before he gets on with us." I stated,

"Yea well most people do that the first time they get a full whiff of necrolysis, you get used to it after a while."

"Yea that's true," I replied somberly.

I couldn't get the doctor's signature, due to him being with Kaiser, having multiple doctors and multiple prescriptions didn't help at all. I called up the Coroner who sounded like he was living with a severe case of depression and anger his most life. Having to get an investigator out to the call was like pulling teeth most of the time, but I told him the circumstances and he actually became curious and sent an investigator from downtown to check it out. It was gonna take them 2 hours to get out there, but they're gonna take care of the body and the investigation, so I won't really complain. My TO (Training Officer) made me the guard, to sign in people who arrived and left the scene for accountability and to make sure no one stole anything from the poor guy and the family. The Homicide Detective showed up, an orange furred fox named Varra. I got his name and serial number we went with him inside to check out the body. "Man, Kev, you back on your roll with deaths again?" he asked my partner.

"I hope not, but it seems that way," he replied dryly. He told me earlier that week when we got our first investigation that he once went on a 2 week stint of death investigations with a P-1 prior to me, sometimes 2 to 3 a day.

"Yea hopefully not or I'll be seeing a lot more of you two in the coming weeks," Detective Varra said. My TO shooed me off to meet the sister who was hysterically crying, hugging the PR. To be honest I would have done the same thing if I was in her shoes too, but as an officer, you gotta keep the tough guy image up but to also show compassion when necessary. My partner went with her the body of her once beloved brother. She came out coughing and crying.

2 hours after that and 3 more mourning family members later, the coroner shows up. I get her name and horsepower (serial number), and showed her the body. She got to work right away, asking the family members about the medical issues of the body. Two more coroner workers showed up in the van and came out with the gurney. The coroner took pictures of the medications, the body, wound, and room shots of the house. The two workers came in and started moving the body, which escalated the smell quite a bit. "Good thing is he hasn't been dead long enough to stick to the floor," my partner replied. I quietly agreed, the workers had their work cut out for them. Two people moving a body that big is a huge task to do, that and the smell. The coroner stamina when it came to smell is extraordinary, but everyone's got their limits. I've heard the best horror stories of coroners going in to check the temp of a body that's been rotting and bloated for two weeks. You have to puncture the liver, and when you do, stand the fuck by or get the fuck out of the building.

They got the body loaded up on the gurney and out of the scene. The coroner left her paperwork with us and followed up the family on the details on when the autopsy was scheduled. She then gave us the ok to leave and we did so without looking back. "Sometimes this job is shitty." my partner said, "But someone has to do it."

Yea, someone always does.