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Episode
003 |
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“There are as many different types
of vampires as there are beasts of prey.” Captain Cronos, Vampire Hunter Photographs of the crime scenes
littered Jin’s desk. He leaned on his
left hand, his jaw on his palm. He
stared at the photos, considering the wounds.
Behind him, a brown-haired man in a tie came into the cubicle. He leaned over Jin’s desk, looking at the
photos. “Snuff pictures this week?” “Hey, Adam,” Jin said with a
sigh. He sat back in his chair and
looked up at him. “How’re things down
in Miracle Central?” “Oh, great,” Adam said with
enthusiastic sarcasm. “I’m currently
realigning the UV machine so that the command controls are inverted, because
Sarah seems to want the highest setting to be the first.” “Shouldn’t you be getting on
that?” Jin asked. “I mean, seeing as
it’s Sarah and she’s, well, I don’t want to say she’s a bitch, but she’s a
bitch.” “Well, between the UV machine and
figuring out why Assif’s cell phone doesn’t want to connect with his
mother’s, I’m kind of bored.” “So you want me to break
something?” Jin asked. “Gee, would you? That’d be awful
nice,” Adam answered with sarcastic enthusiasm. Jin glanced at his table, then
reached out and picked up a pencil. He
held it up towards Adam, then broke it in half. He gave the pencil a wounded look and extended
it. “Adam,” he said childishly. “I broke my favorite pencil.” “What was it I read about Koreans
being five times as likely to get punched at work as other minorities?” Adam
pondered. Jin got a confused look,
then winced as Adam punched him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later.” “See ya,” Jin sent after him. Assif stared through the blinds of
his office window, thoughtfully scratching the tiny patch of a beard just
below his lower lip. He heard his door
open and turned as Sarah and Isaiah came in.
“We’ve got a lead,” Sarah announced without any real investment. “We’ve found where the girl was staying.” She dropped a folder onto Assif’s cluttered
desk. “It’s a bed-and-breakfast on the
edge of town, run by an elderly couple.” “Who have you sent?” Assif asked,
looking through the folder. “Til and Irene,” Isaiah answered. “<This was Krystal’s room,>”
came an elderly woman’s honey-coated French voice as the door opened. Spreading light over the dark, but
comfortable room, the woman hobbled in, holding the door as Irene stepped in,
followed by the large military man.
“<She went out last night, but I haven’t seen her since then.>” “<We understand,>” Irene
said with a kind smile, letting Til in behind her. “<We’re just trying to figure out where
she is.>” “<I do hope she’s okay,>”
the woman said with a gentle smile.
“<It’s nice to know the police are looking out for the young people
these days.>” Irene smiled to the woman as she
escorted her out and shut the door behind her. She came back into the dark room, standing
next to Til. “Breaks my heart,” she
said. “I hate lying to her.” “You hate lying in general,” Til
retorted, scrutinizing every detail of the room. Directly before him was a four-post bed
with the top-most blanket rolled down to its foot. Two fluffy pillows capped it, while a
nightstand stood on either side of the table.
A chest of drawers waited in the corner, while a private bathroom sat
off to the left. Irene went to the chest of drawers
and opened the top draw, revealing neatly folded clothes. “I wonder if we’ll find anything.” “You never know,” Til said,
checking under the bed. Emma knelt down over the cleared
back of the alleyway, waving her hand slowly over the bricks. On her palm, an elaborate circle with runic
writing glowed slightly in a tinted blue.
Behind her, Jason and Eliot stood guard. Both dressed in black trench coats, the
pair watched the alleyway as the light of the day quickly began to sink into
the horizon. “Find anything?” Eliot
asked to Emma. “Not yet,” she said, her
voice charged with magical energy. Her
palm ceased to glow and she stood.
“There’s nothing here,” she said in an exhausted tone. “There’s no imprint except for the violent
death.” “What doesn’t leave an imprint?”
Eliot asked rhetorically. “Some types of fairies,” Jason counted
off. “Artificials. Some higher levels of vampires.” “If it was a vampire, the blood
would be gone,” Eliot noted, entertaining the idea. “And she was also wearing a cross.” “Fairies don’t attack
maliciously,” Emma offered, standing, slipping her hands into her trench coat
pocket. “Fairies don’t attack at all,”
Eliot agreed. He glanced at the
others. “Artificial?” “Doubt it,” Jason half-laughed,
rocking back on his heels. “An
artificial wouldn’t have chased her.
Assuming that one could be around and no one knew about it, and
assuming that something had happened to it to make it want to…to do this, it
wouldn’t have singled out one girl. It
would have gone after a population.” “You know,” Emma tossed out, “do
we know where she was coming from?”
Jason and Eliot both looked at her.
“I mean, she was dressed in some pretty nice clothes. She had to have been at a club or
something. We should maybe look
there.” “We’ve already been scouring the
area for any information on…” Eliot started, but Jason’s hand shot out,
silencing him. He glanced upwards, his
pupils going narrow. “What is it?”
Eliot asked him. Jason was quiet for a moment. Emma looked to him, then looked up as
well. “No, no,” Jason said
quickly. “He’ll feel you.” “He?” Eliot asked, lost. “He who?” “The attacker,” Jason said coolly,
his eyes searching the sky. “He’s
nearby. He’s watching us. He’s curious what we’re doing and who we are.” “Where is he?” Eliot asked,
glancing up towards the top of the buildings.
But Jason just shook his head, focusing. Emma glanced down, a light
appearing from within her pockets. She
looked down the alley and out into the street. “There.” Eliot spun around, yanking out his
pistol. The matte-black boxy device
came out smoothly as he leveled it.
Down the alley, all he could see was another alley on the other side
of the street. But there was no sign
of anyone. Eliot scanned the alley. He moved slowly, seeing nothing but the
shadows. “I don’t see anything,” he
said. “Oh he’s there,” Jason assured. He closed his eyes. “Emma.” “Right behind you,” she said. She closed her eyes, a wind coming up
around her. It blew her trench coat up
from her legs, driving her hair up into the air like a flame. As she did, Jason’s eyes erupted with
power. Across from them, in the alley
on the far side of the street, the shadows and light superimposed, trading
places into a negative image. Save for one spot. The size and shape of a person
hiding along the wall itself, cloaked in the natural shadows of the building,
it looked up frantically, able to tell its detection. Its two eyes flared open like flashlights
activating. “What the hell?!” Jason
exclaimed, leaping back. He tripped
over Emma, both of them falling. But
Eliot fired a shot, four bursts of gas erupting from the bulky barrel of the
gun, steadying the barrel as the bullet ripped through the air. Across the street and down the other alley,
the brick wall smoked suddenly as chunks of it went flying. A harsh shriek echoed through the
air and the shadow on the wall began to move.
Eliot began to sprint towards the opening of the alley, watching as
the darkness seeped out, fading from sight.
All that remained was the natural shadow of the building; strangely
weak now. Eliot stopped at the alley’s entrance. He looked around, seeing the people on the street looking about, trying to figure out the nature of the scream they had heard. He hid his gun under his trench coat and turned back into the alley where Jason and Emma were collecting themselves. He pulled out a cell phone, hitting his speed dial. “Command,” he said with a detached voice, “we have a shade.” |
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