My Movie Props Bleed Real Blood

The highway drug interdiction point was a gauntlet of flashing blue and red lights against the obsidian sky. A state trooper, hand resting on his holster while his K-9 strained at the leash, tapped rhythmically on my drivers side window.

Pop the trunk, please.

My hand was already reaching for the release lever when Blake, sitting in the passenger seat, suddenly lunged forward. He grabbed the troopers arm with a desperate, white-knuckled grip.

"Officer... please... theres a body in the back! A girl... shes been butchered!"

The dog exploded into a frenzy of barking. Within a heartbeat, a dozen tactical rifles were leveled at my head, the red dots of laser sights dancing across my forehead like blood-spotted flies.

Cold sweat drenched my spine instantly. I threw my hands up, palms flat against the roof of the car.

"I'm a lead SFX artist for a film crew!" I screamed, my voice cracking. "Those are silicone props for a horror shoot tomorrow! I have the permit paperwork in the glove box!"

"Out of the vehicle! Hands behind your head! Now!" the trooper roared. He didn't wait for my explanation. He wrenched the trunk open.

Inside, scattered across a black heavy-duty tarp, were limbspale, blood-streaked, and sickeningly realistic.

Before I could breathe, Blake collapsed against the side of the car, burying his face in his hands and sobbing hysterically.

"Jade... why? That college intern... what did he ever do to you? How could you put his head inside a mold like that?"

My scalp went numb. A primal chill crawled up my throat. I looked toward the glove boxthe permit and the production logs Id placed there personally were gone.

And the silicone props that should have been light and scentless? They were suddenly heavy, emitting the thick, sweet, unmistakable stench of rotting meat.

...

"On your knees! Hands behind your head!"

My knees slammed into the asphalt, the impact jarring my teeth. Two officers tackled me, pinning my face into the grit of the road.

The lead investigator, a man with a face like carved granite, shone a high-intensity flashlight into the trunk. He ripped open one of the bags.

The smell hit me thena metallic, organic rot that made my stomach flip.

"Its a mistake! Its all a mistake!" I shrieked into the pavement. "Im Jade Miller! Im the head of prosthetics for The Crimson Trace! Those are molds! Pigment, silicone, and theatrical stench-agents! They aren't human!"

The investigator didn't even look at me. He snapped on a pair of latex gloves and used a tactical knife to slit the heavy plastic bag further.

He froze.

He turned slowly, his eyes boring into mine with a look of pure, unadulterated disgust.

"Cuff her. Tight. Get her to the interrogation room. Call the coroner and the homicide unit. Now!"

The steel ratcheted shut around my wrists, biting into the bone. I was hauled up, my legs feeling like overcooked noodles.

Nearby, Blake was being draped in a shock blanket by a female officer. He was a mess of snot and tears, shaking like a leaf.

I stared at him. I had packed those props two hours ago. Id seen the permits. Blake had only been away from the car for ten minutes at the rest stop while I grabbed coffee. Aside from that, the car had been locked.

"Blake! What did you do?!" I screamed, my vision blurring with red rage. "Where are my props? What is in that bag?!"

Blake let out a strangled cry and recoiled behind the officer.

"Jade... stop it... youre doing it again. That look you had when you killed him... I saw it. I saw you through the workshop door!"

"Youre a liar!" I thrashed against the officers holding me. "Officer, hes lying! Check my phone! I made the delivery calls!"

The lead investigator grabbed me by the collar, forcing me to look at him. "Shut it. Not another word."

He turned to Blake, his voice softening. "Youre safe now, sir. Did you actually witness the murder?"

Blake nodded, clutching the officer's sleeve. "The intern... Casper. Jade has been obsessed with him. Yesterday, after we wrapped, she lured him into the prop storage. I went back to grab my keys and saw her through the gap in the door..."

He doubled over, dry-heaving. "She had the saw. There was blood everywhere. Caspers eyes... they were still open. She was stuffing pieces of him into the molds, saying it was the only way to get the 'texture' right for the close-ups."

"I didn't!" I screamed, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "That was red wax! Casper went back to the citycheck the group chat! My phone is in the car, just look at the logs!"

The investigator let out a dry, mirthless laugh. "Well check everything. But heres the thing, ladyno matter how good your 'silicone' is, the coroner knows a real human head when he sees one."

A real human head.

The words echoed in my skull, hollow and terrifying. There was a body in my car. A real one.

In that moment, Blake lowered his head, peeking at me from behind the officers shoulder. Just for a flicker of a second, his face transformed. The terror vanished, replaced by a sharp, jagged smirk of pure triumph.

The temporary interrogation room at the checkpoint was a concrete box that smelled of stale cigarettes and damp earth. I was bolted into a metal chair, the cuffs already rubbing my wrists raw, blood beginning to seep onto the floor.

But the physical pain was nothing compared to the ice flooding my veins.

The door creaked open. Detective Burke, a heavy-set man with eyes that had seen too much, walked in. In his hand was my old, cracked smartphone.

"Jade Miller," Burke said, sitting down heavily. "The medical examiner gave us a preliminary. Male, early twenties. Time of death within the last twenty-four hours. Cause of death was a severed carotid. The entry wound is jaggedconsistent with a power saw or a serrated blade."

He slammed a crime scene report onto the table. "We didn't find any permits. But we did find a miniature power saw coated in blood hidden in the spare tire well of your SUV. Thats part of your 'kit,' isn't it?"

Sweat soaked through my shirt. "Detective, it was planted! I swear to God, it was planted!" I rattled the cuffs until the chair shook. "That saw has been in the repair bin at the studio for three days! It wasn't in my car!"

"And Casper? You think hes just missing? Blake is a wreck. He told us everything. Were checking the rest stop footage now."

Burke lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around his head like a halo. "Actually, don't bother. The rest stop had a localized power surge last night. The cameras were down. Your husband was never out of sight of the witnesses at the diner. As for Casper, we contacted the production. The AD confirmed Casper 'took a leave of absence.'"

Burke leaned in, his face inches from mine. "The reason he left? He filed a formal complaint. He said you were sexually harassing him, Jade."

I felt like Id been struck by lightning. "That... thats impossible..." my voice was a ghost of itself. "I barely spoke to the boy. Everyone on set knows Im a workaholic. I barely have time for my own husband, let alone an intern!"

The door opened again. Blake walked in, flanked by a deputy. He looked devastated, tears streaming down his face.

"Jade," he whispered, standing over me. "Just confess. Maybe theyll give you life instead of the needle. Please, just tell them the truth."

He reached into his pocket and handed a device to Burke. "Detective, this is our home tablet. Its synced to her cloud. Look at what shes been sending him."

Burke took the tablet and turned it toward me.

It was a thread on a messaging app. My profile picture. My handle.

Jade: Casper, come to the workshop tonight. I need your face for a life-cast. No one else will be there.

Casper: Its late, Ms. Miller. The director said we were wrapped. Im tired.

Jade: Dont be a brat. You want that recommendation for the studio in LA? Then get your ass down here. If you don't... you know I can make sure you never work in this industry again.

Casper: Please don't do this... Im not coming.

Jade: You little bitch. You think you can run? If I don't see you in ten minutes, Ill hunt you down myself.

The timestamp was 9:00 PM last night. The exact time Blake claimed I killed him.

I stared at the screen, my blood turning to slush. It looked exactly like my account. But I hadn't sent those. I hadn't even thought them.

"This is a setup! Detective! This is spoofed! Someone hacked me!" I roared, lunging across the table. "Blake is the only one who knows my passwords! Hes the one! He did this!"

Blake stumbled back, sobbing into his hands. "Jade! How can you say that? Your phone was in your pocket all night! Why did you insist I come on this trip today? You wanted to get me out into the mountains to kill me too, didn't you?"

I gritted my teeth, staring at the man I had slept beside for five years.

"Let me make a call!" I demanded, my eyes bloodshot. "Call the producer, Sarah Jenkins! She knows about the props! And check my IP logs! Youll see the messages didn't come from my device!"

Burke let out a cold snort. "Sarah Jenkins? We called her. The studio is sending a representative to identify the remains. Jade, this is a slam dunk. Once the DNA confirms its Casper, we don't even need your confession. Youre going to the Row."

The four hours I spent waiting for the DNA results were the longest of my life.

The door opened again. Burkes face was grimmer than before. Behind him were Blake and a woman in a designer blazer.

I recognized her instantly. Taryn Vane, the assistant director.

Taryn didn't wait. She pointed a finger at me, her voice trembling with manufactured rage. "You monster! Casper was a good kid! How could you?"

She turned to Burke, handing him a folder. "Detective, this is an official statement from the studio. We fired Jade yesterday. This murder was a personal vendetta. The studio has no record of any 'silicone prop' order for today."

I laughed, a sharp, hysterical sound. "Taryn! You liar! You told me yourself yesterday that the investors were coming to the set and I needed to make the 'victim' look as real as possible!"

Taryn spat on the floor. "Bullshit! Were a low-budget indie, Jade. We don't have fifty grand for high-end silicone body doubles. You used the movie as a cover for your sick fantasies!"

I froze. No record?

The invoices, the purchase orders, the emailseverything Id spent weeks on. All gone with one sentence from Taryn.

Blake stepped up next to Taryn, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Detective, Im so sorry. Jade... shes been in a dark place. Gambling debts. Off-shore accounts. I told her to see a shrink, but she wouldn't listen..."

Gambling? Mental illness?

The pieces finally clicked. Taryn had been at our house constantly the last month, "discussing the script." Every time I came home late from the lab, Blake said they were just working.

"You two..." I hissed, my voice trembling. "You killed him. You killed Casper and youre pinning it on me."

Taryns face contorted. She lunged at me, hand raised. "You bitch! Ill kill you myself!"

Burke caught her arm. "Easy! This is a police station!"

He turned to me and dropped the final report on the table. "Save it, Jade. The DNA is back. Its Casper Whitlock. And we found your skin cells under his fingernails. Your fingerprints are all over the handle of that saw."

Skin under his nails? My prints on the saw?

My head spun. I had never even touched Casper.

Blake looked at me, his eyes gleaming with a sickening light. He pretended to pull Taryn into a comforting hug, but over her shoulder, he flashed me the middle finger.

His lips moved silently: Rot in hell.

Just as Burke reached for the arrest warrant, a commotion erupted in the hallway. The door burst open, and a young officer, pale as a ghost and drenched in sweat, ran in.

"Chief! We have a problem! A massive, national-level problem!"

Burke roared, "Im in the middle of an interrogation! Get out!"

The officer didn't move. He leaned in and whispered into Burkes ear.

I watched Burkes face turn from flush-red to a sickly, ashen gray. He looked at the report, then at me, then at the door.

Taryn rolled her eyes. "Detective, just have her sign the papers so we can put this trash away."

"Shut up!" Burke barked, spittle hitting Taryns face.

She flinched. Blake went still.

Burke grabbed his radio, his hands shaking so violently he almost dropped it. "All units! Lockdown! Live ammo! Seal the building! No one leaves this perimeter, do you hear me? No one!"

He turned to the room, his voice barely a whisper.

"We just verified Casper Whitlocks real identity."