The 2012 Black Hole Killer™

1977. July 28th

. Manhattan. Noon.

Between 95° and Minus 459.67° F.

Given the ninety-five degree heat outside, there shouldn't have been a vertical, blue ice

encased naked mirrored body suspended in mid-air. The body was slowly spinning clockwise.

The bottom of its soles were suspended six feet above the two inch thick blue ice coated ebony

floor.

And yet, there it was. Incomprehensible. A seeming affront to the laws of nature.

The body in turn was surrounded by a frozen cloud of similarly blue ice encased,

perfectly mirrored flies. This cloud rotated exactly at the same speed and in the same languorous

fashion as the floating body. The flies at first glance looked like a bodyguard, concealing and

protecting its charge.

Both the body and its bodyguard of flies appeared impervious to the record-breaking 95°

F. heat outside the 90th Street and Central Park West 1940's brownstone's 30th floor circular

bedroom. No water rivelets ran down it sides. There were no puddles on the floor below it.

Instead, the frozen mass voraciously sucked into its center all heat in the room. The mass

hungrily devoured and then coated with deep tanzanite blue ice everything near it: the twenty

foot high black Bengali Macassar ebony ceiling and matching black ebony floor. The twelve

mirrors, each ten foot tall by six foot wide. The bed with its ebony sideboards. The thirteen two

foot tall black ebony pedestals. The four foot tall objects sitting on top of the pedestals. The huge ten foot long by seven foot wide king size bed. The six foot long by three foot tall picture above

the fireplace. And even the entire fifteen foot long by ten foot high fireplace itself.

The ceilings and floors not only were coated with the same six inch thick blue ice layer,

but from the ceiling sprouted thick six foot long shark tooth stalactites.

Rising from the blue ice coated ebony floor to meet them were matching six foot tall

shark took stalagmites. The impression the shivering and cautious yet almost unbearably and

helplessly curious detective got was that of a huge blue ice prehistoric shark's open hungry maw

-- waiting expectantly, hopefully, to clamp down and tear to bits anyone stupid enough to get

near it.

20th Precinct Major Case Squad twenty five year old NYPD Detective (Third Grade)

Brian X. MacBoru stood outside the bedroom door. Paralyzed by both the unbearable cold and

the sudden cloud of terror that seized him, he could only stare at the bizarre combination. His

body trembled uncontrollably while he instinctively crossed himself.

As he tried to force himself to cross the bedroom's threshold to investigate this bizarre

scene, he again was paralyzed, this time with shock. Because, when he then inspected more

closely the bluish translucent ice fog aura that surrounded the frozen body's head, he realized

that this aura itself was shot through with the tiniest bits of blood streaked grey brain matter.

Brian could only stare in numbed amazement by what had been by far the most bizarre

thing he'd ever encountered over the course of his skyrocketing but still brief three year career as

an undercover police officer and then as a highly decorated detective. Tom equally by on one

hand his powerful professional duty to investigate and on the other by the mindless terror

threatening to overpower him, he at first could not force himself to enter the room. Instead, he

first remained frozen in place at the doorless threshold. MacBoru's arrestingly deep, bottle green eyes, the ones that he'd inherited from his Irish

royal ancestors, widened as he noticed the door. Easily sixteen feet tall, its black ebony was

twisted and tom. Lying on the floor like it was made of paper, now ripped in shreds as if tom by

giant razor sharp talons.

MacBoru's eyes, the color of glass as old as his family patriarch and namesake, the last

great King of Ireland Brian Boru, blinked.

Turning his gaze away, he desperately but unsuccessfully tried to beat backthe waves of

dizziness that quickly overcame him.

As the room spun violently, he fell to his knees.

Then, after slowly forcing himself to rise, trying to hold on to the slick blue ice crusted

ripped door jam for support, he reminded himself to follow procedures. First, he checked the

bulky cassette battery operated tape recorder he always carried and used its carrying strap to

position over his left shoulder.

Then he reached into his right pocket and checked carefully to make sure the magnetic

tape cassette was properly inserted and the battery was working.

Next, he equally and carefully checked the tape and battery of the much smaller

experimental mirco-cassette that he had just been issued the day before for field testing. Then,

trying to compose himself, he resumed his investigation.

Reminding himself of his professional responsibilities and determined to accept the

consequences of what he was about to do, he courageously forced himself to cross the bedroom's

threshold, ignoring the screaming warnings from his survival instincts.

At the moment he did so, he found himself now strangely, helplessly, impelled to

approach the body. It was as if he was captured by some kind of unspeakably powerful gravitational pull, which appeared to become ever stronger the closer he approached the body.

He had a fleeting thought of being a fly being sucked into the web of the huge spider that was

about to sink its fangs into his neck and then suck his insides dry.