Chloroform and Cotton | ​ 1 

Eli knelt in the snow, shining a flashlight through the darkness to observe the spatter of blood 

on the sidewalk. ​The victim couldn’t have been here long​, he thought pressing a finger to his 

temple—activating the implant in his brain and blinked twice in quick succession. Within 

seconds, a camera-like lens opened in the iris of his left eye and a blue film to overlaid the world 

around him, blood already in hidden by the falling snow gleaming like it was under a blacklight. 

Good evening, Eli. How may I assist yo—​ ​Silent Mode, Thelma. I’m working.​ The voice was quiet, 

barely audible inside his head but with his already swirling thoughts and the Lieutenant’s 

judgmental silence, it was deafening. “The unsub must have stabbed the victim here, Lieutenant. 

A stomach wound, somewhere around the liver, based on the amount of blood. They couldn’t 

have left the victim here for long without fear of discovery and we know, assuming the incident 

is related, this initial wound is never the cause of death. It is likely,” Eli followed the trail of 

blood down the street as far as he could see, “that the unsub dragged the vic this way.” He 

pointed in the direction of the trail. The second he looked down the street, Thelma busied itself 

with analysis—opening dialogue prompts on the edges of his vision, taking photos of the crime 

​ econ Only, 
scene, and silently asking for commands. It was giving Eli a migraine. Again. R

Thelma.​ It turned itself off, leaving Eli’s world a quiet blue and for a second he was still, relishing 

in the calm of feeling like he was under water.  

“Hm, I guess it’s possible, but what makes you so sure he went that way?” Lieutenant Pierce’s 

voice pierced his calm with skepticism, but this was nothing new. ​Partners for over three years 

now and he still can’t trust me. ​Based on his background, Lieutenant Pierce exp--​ Can it. Stop 

overriding my commands. ​Eli rolled his eyes and blinked again—the lens receding from view. 
 Chloroform and Cotton | ​ 2 

The world regained its normal hue and he stood, turning to face his partner. He crossed his arms 

and placed his index finger back against his temple in what the rest of the force would’ve called 

his “thinking stance.” But really, Eli was scanning the internet for a map of the area, coming up 

with a reasonable explanation for his statement—one that didn’t involve the use of a technology 

that the rest of the world has no idea exists. ​Alright, Thelma. Help me out here—Analysis. ​This 

particular neighborhood is a low income residential area with a crime rate that is 20% higher 

than the local average.​ ​Perfect, that’s all I need. Silent Mode.   

“Based on my recollection, this is a lower income residential area and is known to be more 

dangerous at night and therefore less likely for someone to witness the stabbing or find the pool 

of blood left behind—which would’ve been covered in snow by morning had our witness not 

come home late from work. He dragged the vic in that direction because there are fewer homes 

and businesses. Most buildings are abandoned or condemned, giving the unsub any number of 

places to hide and presumably torture the victim. The other direction heads back toward the 

city which would’ve been bustling with nightlife around the time of the stabbing and crossing 

the street would’ve made it easier to discover the blood as asphalt is warmer and more slower to 

coat in snow. Cars driving past would also jostle the compressed the existing layer, making the 

color more prominent. I’m fairly confident that if we call for a team to run a blacklight over the 

sidewalk this way,” he moved slowly down the street, “we’ll find a blood trail and possibly be able 

to determine where he went next.” He pushed at the snow with the bottom of his shoe, feigning a 

search as he approached the next sizable pool. He was careful to only uncover the far edge so as 

to not raise Lieutenant’s suspicions. Eli learned the hard way that there was a delicate balance 
 Chloroform and Cotton | ​ 3 

between how much information he had and how much he could appear to know. Too little and 

nothing gets done. Too much and he becomes a suspect. Eli didn’t much like the idea of 

spending any time in prison and he liked the idea of getting caught with the implant even less. 

Cassie would kill me.​ Slowly, probably, and with a long lecture on the importance of 

confidentiality in top secret, highly experimental scientific pursuits. He smiled at the image of 

his sister pacing frantically in her lab, nose all scrunched up and glaring at him through those 

ridiculous goggles she always wears.   

“Shit, Jones, you might be onto something for once.” Pierce pulled a latex glove from the pocket 

of his coat and handed it to Eli. “Now get your sorry ass down there and check for more blood.” 

He took the glove with another eye roll and knelt to the ground. Pierce pressed a button on his 

phone and raised it to his ear. “Yeah, this is Pierce, I need a team down on 3506 Alexander 

Avenue.” He meandered back up the street as he talked and Eli took advantage of the distraction 

to quickly dust off the top layer of snow, revealing the remainder of the pool staining the 

sidewalk before tasking Thelma with counting the cars driving past. “Jones and I are following a 

blood trail covered by snow.” The lieutenant listened for a moment, his brow furrowing. ​One car. 

Eli could almost hear the question, Has the Vicar struck again? “The scene has some similarities 

but it’s still too early to tell.” ​Two cars.​ He huffed impatiently. “Simon, we need find where the 

unsub took the poor son of a bitch before we can determine the circumstances of the crime. I 

will let you know as soon as I know someth—wait, what? No! No, you should under no 

circumstances alert Captain Rogers.” He was gesticulating wildly now. “If you do that, you could 

send the whole force into a panic. Is that what you want?” ​Three.​ Eli could hear Simon’s near 
 Chloroform and Cotton | ​ 4 

screeching on the other end of the line. ”Alright, shut up! We don’t even know if it was him. You 

have that team here in the next twenty minutes or I’ll have your goddamn badge, got it? Good.” 

He hung up the phone with an angry click. “All these shithole officers want to know is if the Vicar 

did it like the goddamn victim doesn’t even matter! You’d think he’s some sort of celebrity or 

something.”  

“Lieutenant, with the crimes he’s committed and the attention they’ve drawn—he kind of is.” 

Four. ​The Vicar had been terrorizing Chicago for months, killing nearly two dozen people, 

seemingly at random. They couldn’t find a pattern; one victim was a petite blonde woman in her 

early twenties and the next was an eighty year old man who was at least six foot tall--they 

spanned ages, genders, socioeconomic levels, and appearances. Every scene had evidence of 

torture, the victim suspended in the air with barbed wire around their wrists and torsos—their 

arms outstretched to mimic a crucifix—and a brand resembling the Greek omega on the right 

shoulder administered antemortem.Their wounds were all the same—puncture wounds in the 

palms of the hands made with blunt object, like a railroad spike, and lash marks covering their 

backs as if they’d been whipped. Needle-like stab wounds in the tear ducts gave the appearance 

of crying blood. A statue of the Virgin Mary, sat at their feet and the words ‘THE MESSENGER OF 

GOD MUST CULL THE WICKED’ were written on the floor below it in the previous victims blood. 

Five.  

Pierce shook his head, mouth contorting with disgust. “Fuckin’ hell, I’ll bet you when we catch 

this asswipe his trial will be like watching reality fucking TV.” He threw hands in the air. “So 
 Chloroform and Cotton | ​ 5 

​ li 
​ ix cars. E
what do you think, Jones? How’d he move the victim without a single witness?” S

thought for a moment, returning to the initial pool for a closer look. As soon as his eyes were out 

​ helma— Chemical Composition.​ The intelligence began 

of sight, he reactivated the lens. T

analyzing the snow surrounding the blood for anything out of place. ​TRACES OF 

TRICHLOROMETHANE DETECTED.​ The words appeared in the bottom of his vision, the system 

highlighting the smattering of the chemical in red. ​Chloroform.​ He thought the string of 

commands to catalogue the image in the file labeled ‘VICAR CRIME SCENES’ and indicated for 

Thelma to proceed with analysis. He would organize the subfiles once they got back to the 

station. ​COTTON FIBRES DETECTED.​ Eli stood at the words, a theory forming as he blinked 

away the screen and Thelma’s voice.  

“In the few minutes since you made that phone call, I’ve counted six cars driving past in either 

direction. Earlier in the evening there would’ve been more. He couldn’t have dragged a body 

down the street without someone noticing...he would’ve needed a cover or a disguise.” He bit the 

inside of his cheek. “If I had to venture a guess, he used a sedative of some sort—likely 

chloroform. From there the unsub could’ve draped the victim’s arms around his shoulders and 

dragged him down the street with his feet on the ground. Add that to the fact that it's late on a 

Friday night and to any passerby he would’ve looked like a person carrying a drunk friend 

home.” He popped the collar of his dark brown trench coat and turned his back to the worsening 

wind. “Of course, we can’t know anything for certain until we can get samples to Simon for 

testing.”  

 
 Chloroform and Cotton | ​ 6 

“A kidnapping in plain sight. Arrogant bastard,” Pierce said just as a police van and two squad 

cars turned onto the street. Per protocol, the officers cordoned the scene with their cars and the 

standard police tape while.a team of crime scene technicians received orders to blanket the area 

with black lights and take samples of the snow surrounding whatever they found. The search 

didn’t take long. Within a half hour they had followed the trail three blocks down the road and 

up the front steps of a house. Its decrepit facade seemed to sag in anguish at its state of disrepair. 

The windows were boarded up from the inside, doing little to mask the shattered glass. Brick 

siding crumbled under Eli’s gloved hand as he swiped two fingers across a splotch of blood by 

the steps, the tips retaining their whiteness as he raised them to his face. He hastily activated the 

lens, capturing as many photos of the scene as he could before blinking it away as the team 

moved in.   

The wooden stairs groaned under their weight, as they approached the front door, which stood 

ajar. It was missing a hinge, leaning toward the ground as if it were desperate to reach it. Eli 

reached into his coat and removed the glock from holster below his arm and cocked it, holding it 

toward the ground as he entered the house. He activated the lens once again, trusting the 

darkness to mask the metallic circle atop his iris, and set it to record. With a thought, the normal 

blue hue of the device shifted to the green of night vision mode. The force mocked him for being 

reckless—the only one of them brave enough, or stupid enough, to walk into a dangerous 

situation without a flashlight—Pierce had learned not to question it. Eli could almost see the 

look of shock on their smug faces if they found out his eyes could become military grade night 

vision goggles quicker than they could even say the word ‘flashlight’. Rats scurried across the 
 Chloroform and Cotton | ​ 7 

rotting floors at the sound of their footsteps. They spread out to search first floor, Pierce 

checking the foyer while Eli split off to check the kitchen toward the back of the house. He 

moved slowly down the hall, feigning extreme caution to mask Edith’s rapid analysis of 

everything around him. Even among the drug residue and grime coating the hardwoods, Eli 

found the blood trail instantly. The streaks were near invisible in the darkness but with the lens, 

he could see they led straight to the door beneath the staircase on the right side of the hall. 

Okay, make it convincing.​ He entered the kitchen, taking in the half destroyed cabinetry with 

doors ripped clean off their hinges and scattered about the floor, the piles of torn blankets left 

behind by squatters, and holes in the cheap linoleum. Other than the rats’ nest in what used to 

be the cabinet under the sink, Eli could find nothing of any importance in the space—just as he 

predicted.   

“Jones! Get your ass over here. I’ve got something.” He followed the Lieutenant to the trail of 

blood and the door of the basement. Their nostrils burned from the second they opened it. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, what’s that smell?” The Lieutenant covered his nose and mouth with the 

sleeve of his coat. Thelma, Chemical Composition. Blue settled over the room around him and 

around him  

The scene at the bottom of the stairs was nothing like what they expected. It was clean--almost 

too clean. Not a single drop of blood was left on the floor despite trail left behind on the sidewalk 

and the upper floor. The victim was a gruesome site. She was chained to a wooden table in the 

middle of the room with thick metal links around his wrists. The chest cavity was split clean 

open with the skin peeled back in a manner that was almost surgical. Eli took a closer look. The 
 Chloroform and Cotton | ​ 8 

inside of the corpse was dry, as if it had never contained any blood or fluids at all. All of the 

organs remained intact except one. The heart was missing.  

“It looks like a fucking robot was here.” ​System malfunction.​ ​Eli froze.​ Fuck. Not now.​ He turned 

​ hit, Cassie, I thought you 

away as the implant rolled itself along his iris of its own accord. S

worked this bug out. ​The screen glitched between modes, flashing blue and green. ​Thelma, 

system status.​ Thelma must’ve tried to speak but it came out as a deafening, high pitched 

ringing in his ears. His head throbbed. “Feeling squeamish, Jones?” He tried to respond but 

couldn’t even hear himself think over the screeching so he held up a finger as a signal to wait. 

The ringing must’ve jumped an octave and the intensity was enough to knock Eli to his knees, 

grasping at his ears. “Shit, Jones, what the fuck’s the matter with you?” He shook his head and 

immediately felt like he was going to throw up. “Look at me.” Eli kept his eyes to the ground, 

unable to respond even if he wanted to. The whirring of broken graphics and analysis and the 

random shuttering of the camera was making him nauseous. He fought against the noise, trying 

to think in commands.  

“Thelma. Off mode. NOW.” 

  

“ELI! Who the fuck is Thelma?” Eli hadn’t even realized he had spoken out loud. “What the fuck’s 

matter with you?” Pierce was getting closer. Eli dropped his head into his hands and tried to 

close his eyes but the lids wouldn’t budge.  

 
 Chloroform and Cotton | ​ 9 

“Get Cassie, he managed to rasp.  

“Cassie? Why the fuck would I bring your sister to a crime scene? You look at me this goddamn 

second.” Pierce grabbed Eli by the jaw and forced his face up. Through the chaos of numbers and 

symbols and glitching colors behind his eyes, he could see the shock on the Lieutenant’s face. 

“What the hell is that?” His tone was quiet now. He let go of Eli’s jaw and took a step back, 

drawing his gun. “You some kind of fucking robot?” Pierce’s glanced at the dried out corpse on 

the table. Eli recognized that look, it wasn’t the first time the Lieutenant had considered him a 

suspect. But this was the first time he had any proof. Eli tried to explain but the storage systems 

started scattering documents and photos across his field of vision like a filing cabinet had 

exploding behind his eyes and the words were stuck again. He vaguely heard Pierce call for 

backup and the jangle of handcuffs.  

“Detective Eli Jones, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used 

against you in a court of law…”  

Eli must’ve passed out because he didn’t hear the end of the speech. When he awoke, it was quiet 

again. The malfunction was over. The handcuffs were cold against his wrists but nowhere near 

as cold as the air in the squad car. It was different from the perspective of the criminal. From this 

seat, Eli could see the tension in his partner’s jaw and the whiteness of his knuckles as gripped 

the steering wheel. His partner. Josiah Pierce. A man he respected and admired. He wouldn’t 

​ ot like I’ve ever been able 

even look him in the eye as they walked from the car into the station. N
 Chloroform and Cotton | ​ 10 

to look him in the eye. ​Because of this piece of technology. This t​ hing​ that Cassie says makes him 

a feat of neural engineering has kept him from connecting with the one person he should’ve 

done the most to connect with. Everything in the precinct stopped the second they walked 

through the door. It wasn’t everyday a cop was arrested for murder, especially the detective with 

the highest arrest rate in the state and news travels fast. Pierce did his best to hide Eli with his 

body and took him to interrogation. Eli couldn’t even begin to worry about what anyone thought 

through the throbbing in his head and the ringing that had started again in his ears. ​Can the 

voices in your head burst your eardrums?​ He wondered as Pierce sat him at the table and locked 

the cuffs to it. Eli didn’t resist. He just felt nauseous. He closed his eyes and dropped his head to 

the table, the cold metal providing momentary relief from the pain. Eli heard the Lieutenant 

begin to walk away and then stop. He opened his eyes to see Pierce standing awkwardly in the 

doorway. “Do you need anything?” He still wouldn’t look Eli in the eye.  

“Get Cassie,” Eli rasped. He felt like he hadn’t had a glass of water in a week. “Tell her to bring the 

implant field kit, she’ll know what that means.”  

“You’re in no place to be making any goddamn demands.” Pierce in no way sounded sure. His 

brow was furrowed and shifted his weight uneasily back and forth. Eli tried to lift his head from 

the table but it felt like someone had dropped a cinderblock on the back of his neck.  

“We can’t catch the actual killer if I’m dead.” Pierce stopped breathing. The silence was heavy 

and did nothing to drive the blackness that threatened to overtake him from his mind.  
 Chloroform and Cotton | ​ 11 

“Are you a robot?”  

“No.” His eyes were falling shut. 

“Then what the fu—”   

“A feat of neural engineering is what Cassie calls it. Bring her here and I’ll tell you anything you 

want to know.” His words were beginning to slur and the room was swimming. He closed his eyes 

to keep from vomiting.   

“Fine. Don’t you fucking die before I get back, Jones.” And with that Eli heard the Lieutenant 

leave the room and then nothing.