“I think it would be more worrying if there were a psychopath with limbs lying around, prancing about the streets.” Lucy retorted, almost annoyed that Ezekiel was giving up like this, he’d been to several crime scenes in the last month, a few entirely unrelated in hopes they might link up, and yet there’s nothing, or he refuses to work with what he has.

“Whatever.” Ezekiel’s dreary voice echoed, he was entirely overstimulated by the vibrancy of his office at the time, and the overall situation. “You should get back to your own work, Lucy, and if you're done, go home, your wife probably wants you there.” He turned and placed his hand on the documents once more, leaning back and throwing his feet onto the desk once more, as if he were dismissing Lucy.

His foot hit his coffee, the beverage dripping off the desk, if he was being honest, he found the sound delightful. Ezekiel was in no way put off by the sound of dripping water, or leaking faucets, in fact he rathered having background noise, as long as it wasnt a person he was fine with it. He had no plans of cleaning up the spill, and began working again, ignoring any complaints Lucy had to offer him.

Before he knew it, the sun was just below the horizon, the light in the room was completely gone, he’d been left in perfect darkness, not that he’d know. Ezekiel’s face was stuffed into his knees, he was fast asleep, so still and silent he appeared to be deceased.

Ezekiel was suddenly shocked awake when a stress ball bludgeoned him, his hair flying to the side followed by the sound of the stress ball sticking to the window and Ezekiel hitting the ground soon after. “Auwgh-” Ezekiel hissed, clenching his head to his knee once more before sprawling out and looking up.

“I’ve been trying to wake you up for an hour!” It was Arnez, of course it was, who else would have stayed behind just to throw things at Ezekiel once they were off the clock.

“Good god, you sure that wasn’t a rock…” Ezekiel ran his hand along the back of his head, clenching his messy, grey streaked, black hair. He pulled his legs inward, hunching over them before stumbling to his feet and squinting at Arnez who was in full outdoor attire, coat, boots, scarf and all.

“Guess I'm just too strong for a scrawny rat like you to handle.” Arnez snickered, adjusting his scarf, it seemed he was always adjusting his clothes by the tiniest tad. He soon tapped his boots, looking around Ezekiel’s office for a moment, proud with his prior work.

“I think your ego is too strong for me to handle…” Ezekiel was still trying to get a grip on himself after being so abruptly woken up, his words were dull and blunt as always, it was like his burning hatred for his blonde, overzealous coworker was suppressed by his tired, half asleep state.

“You’re mixing up your words again, Ez, you should get a hang of that. I think you meant charisma.” Arnez smirked in return; Ezekiel was beginning to wonder if he did anything around here other than give him a headache and steal his documents as a ‘friendly joke’. “Anyways, as much as i’d like to stick around i’ve got places to be and you’ve got a house to clean, that is if you know how to clean.” Arnez flickered Ezekiel’s office light on and off before disappearing into the dark hallway.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Ezekiel, disoriented and confused, ran his hand along his desk, feeling for the documents he had previously placed there; his gaze sharpened as it turned toward the apparently empty desktop, the documents were gone.

Ezekiel assumed Arnez or Lucy took the documents, even if there was no real reason for them to need them, why else would a stack of papers go entirely missing.

Ezekiel shrugged off the issue, his spindly fingers reaching out towards the tall wooden coat rack in the corner, Ezekiel had entirely forgotten he didn’t bring a coat. He groaned and shuffled out the door, leaving the front doors of the station unlocked.

The wind howled, blowing leaves across the road just for them to be struck by speeding vehicles, crushed before being able to become something more, like fertiliser for a life saving plant.

Ezekiel’s breath was caught in his vest, his face pressed into his clothing to avoid the cold; the obnoxious neon signs of the district flashed in his eyes before Ezekiel took a sharp corner down a poorly lit alley, the only illumination available was glaring pink and yellow lights from inside a nearby club.

“824, saint’s BLVD…isn’t that ironic.” Ezekiel huffed, gripping the inside of his pockets while staring at the entrance to the building, music could be heard seeping out from underneath the door.

The stage at the club tonight was meant to be accompanied by a punk band, one of which Valery North was fairly fond of, she had visited the location on the night of her disappearance and the band was only now coming back to town, Ezekiel felt like confronting them before heading home.

The door handle clicked, the knob turning and the door opening just enough for Ezekiel to squeeze through the doorway and not draw attention to himself. Atop the stage there were 3 people, a singer, a drummer, and a guitarist, Ezekiel had done no further research on the band aside from when they’d be performing, he didn’t know their names, ages, or any important info, the entire band was a blank slate to him.

“Could the speakers be any louder…” He whispered to himself, the drummer slamming their foot on the kick the exact moment Ezekiel muttered his complaint.

He swerved through the crowd, looking for a backstage entrance or any way to get closer to the band so he could discuss the issue at hand with the group.

Things were being thrown at the stage, flowers and flags, letters, Etc.

The drummer stood, the music cutting for a moment to give them room to speak.

They placed their left hand on their hips which were exposed by low cut pants and a weirdly cut V-neck body suit covered by a cropped leather jacket adorned with chains and patches. “Alright who threw it!” They Tapped their foot, screaming across the club and bar with a thick northern canadian accent. “American flags ONLY.” It seemed to be some sort of joke among fans to throw flags at the band, or perhaps the drummer specifically.