Hayes Bentley; April 11th, 2020

Morrison Mathews; April 17th, 2020

Harris Montgomery April 24th, 2020

Zoe Thornton; May 1st, 2020

Escalation? Four people are dead in a month and certainly these could be merely accidents and we could be jumping at shadows. It doesn’t feel like that, though. Is this Karma’s goal? Perhaps they didn’t think anyone would be investigating these accidents? I am pretty sure they would be correct if Zoe’s death hadn’t been poorly handled. That could have been worded better, sounds harsher than what I intend.

We’re heading towards the location of death of Lukas Holt. He died of asphyxiation. An allergic reaction according to the file, the case was dubbed an accident which fits the current profile of the four others. Could this be a link? I won’t be able to determine anything until we get there. Currently in the passenger seat of the rental car, going over more notes mentally. Looking over at Wolf, who is focused on the road.

“What do you think about the team?” I ask her.

Wolf laughs.

“You’re asking me what I think about the team?” she repeats playfully.

“Yes,”

“Well, for one, I find it endlessly entertaining how little you can engage with other people-

-I engaged-

-Oh yes, you did a wonderful job,” Wolf teases.

“I admit I was a bit awkwa-

-a bit? How do you define a bit awkward, mister world famous detective who lives off of coffee and overthinking?”

“I don’t always do that either,”

“I don’t know. The car was feeling heavy with all that thinking you were doing over there,”

“Wasn’t overthinking,”

“Either way, I think Florian is nice, I think he seems naturally talented in his area of expertise. Lacie seems like she is finding her legs,” she pauses while taking a left, “But she has good instincts as well. Shaun and Troy, I both want to punch for different reasons and they are on different tiers of punchable.”

“Troy seems suspicious of me, in particular,” I state.

“He kept looking over at you, I just cannot wait for him to give me an opportunity to throw him down to the ground,”

“In an arm lock, then?” I ask her curiously.

“Oh no, he’s not an arm lock type of guy, he’s more of a make sure his face hits hard into the ground type of guy. Shaun is a press against the wall in an armlock type of guy,”

“Please make sure you defend yourself for a good reason-

-I always have a good reason-

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

-Really, even with the Director-

-you know you secretly adored it,” she only quickly turns her head to wink at me.

Is she - probably shouldn’t read too much into it. We’re almost at the location given in this paper. Downtown feels distinctly different from the rest of Oakside. It’s across a bridge, looking over the bay. On the right-hand side is Ferris wheel overlooking the waters, sitting on a dockside. Looks like an amusement park from this distance. Sometimes you can hear boat horns. Bicycle pass us in the bicycle lane, and buses have vanished. There were so many in midtown, now they all seem to have, but faded.

Parts of downtown remind me of places in the Celestial Crest back at home. The buildings are older; they don’t seem as new and as the ones in midtown.

Speaking of which - this is the place then? Is it - functional? Wolf is parking in unevenly paved car lot. She looks at the apartment complex with a bit of skepticism.

“This place looks,” she pauses, attempting probably to make a joke about the situation as she does, “condemned and cursed.”

Looking at a brick building that I can only describe-no, Wolf put it best. This place both looks condemned and cursed. It’s mostly a brick exterior building, except with two different bricks, on the bottom floor is a base of red bricks, and the rest of it is tan brick. Some windows have been boarded up entirely. Seems from some faint scorch marks from the exterior of the building; there must have been a fire at some point which would explain the two wooden portions of the building.

“Must have seen a fire,” I tell her, I don’t know why I am telling her this.

“And it’s unfortunate the fire didn’t consume it,” Wolf retorts.

“I don’t wish for the building to be taken in a blaze of glory,”

“Neither do I, but this building looks sad,” Wolf tells me, “If brick could be depressed, it would be this brick.”

“Depression bricks,”

“Precisely,” Wolf takes a step toward the front door, “Need a code to get in.”

Right. I have one. The one Florian gave me, it’s the code the Civilian Services use to get into the building for emergency purposes. Attempting to open the folder, Florian is also old school, it seems. Handing me stacks of papers and four different folders.

“Here,” I show her the corner.

“Thank you,”

Despite the lack of care, this building has seen it’s still a home people are living in and I should show more respect in that fact. Something about this building, the entrance, feels cold. It’s not just Lukas, I feel. This building has seen a lot of death in its time.

A part of me is telling me not to walk into this building. Old superstitions. I was taught as a child by my Mother. She would say something along the line of walls can speak. And if the walls spoke in this building, they would tell me to go back. In fact, the words I would have for this building, entering the threshold from the outside to the inside, is “No” and “Don’t get too close”.

If this weren’t for my job, something - a force would be stopping me from entering. Though I know there is no such thing. Despite my vision going black in here, there is a hazy, black mist that floats in this building. It immediately feels like something is attempting to latch on and sap you of your energy. Someone lying on the floor, a foggy vision. He thought he had reached safety. He called for help, but there was no one there.

It smells moldy in here. Or stuffy. It’s suffocating and dizzying.

The carpet is old, that type of carpet that’s crunchy, and not plush. It is stained and something tells me that not all of it is food or drink related.

“What a charming place,” Wolf remarks, “I just love all the implied bloodstains, and the foreboding atmosphere.”

“Should I take you to more foreboding places?” I ask her.

“Are you indirectly asking me on a date?” Wolf retorts quickly.

Why would she say something like that?

“No,”

“Well, it seems clear, the only threat is the foreboding atmosphere,”

“How are you going to punch the foreboding atmosphere, I wonder,”

“I’ll give it a dirty look and hope it will go away,”

“Their apartment is on the third floor,”

“Wonderful, so this isn’t a date?”

“Why do you want to go on a date?” why did I ask that?

Wolf raises a brow, “Do you want to go on a date?”

“This joke isn’t funny, we’re working-

-oh right, professional, and here I thought your human exe file was working properly-

-Wolf, please, let’s stay on task-

-I am a Ward, I am as here as this foreboding atmosphere,”

She smirks. Am I blind? Am I missing something? I am sure my Father wouldn’t approve. This is horrendously off topic. I am reading too much into this. She’s naturally that type of person who likes to tease and poke people’s buttons to get them pressed. We need to investigate Lukas’ death, not joke or - I am not sure what this is - at the front entrance on someone’s bloodstain.