A man walks up to a crime scene ducking under the yellow tape. Detective Mercer took in the scene a large pool of red soaking into the carpet where the man had fallen. A few footprints from where people had stepped in the blood to help. The CSI team went over the hall with a fine toothcomb. Though Mercer’s first thought was: This is a mess. Mercer after a quick look found Detective O’Conal talking with the CSI team, she did not look happy. In fact, she looked annoyed.
Walking up to her, “I see this is a mess. You wanna bring me up to speed.”
Instead of our usual banter, she just went into it. “We got a twenty-seven male who fell out of a supply closet with a bullet wound in his gut.”
That raised Mercer's eyebrows. In the middle of a crowded office. “No one heard the shot?”
“No, and there is a distinct lack of blood in the closet itself.” Her voice grew soft as she leaned in. “And when I say, lack of, I mean none whatsoever and he was leaking like a faucet.” She gestures to the massive puddle.
“So he was shot as he was leaving the closet?” He commented.
“If he was shot by someone in the closet. There should still be more blood inside or a splatter pattern of some sort.” A plane-clothed office walked up to O’Conal with a sheet of paper. “And we just got the warrant to take a look at the security footage. Just because he’s alive doesn't mean it's not an active crime scene? But there being obstinate and demanded a warrant.” She let out a long breath. Before walking off and gesturing for him to follow.
Reaching the security room, she hands the guard and the building managers the warrant. The building manager scrutinized it before nodding. Doesn’t trust the police I see. The guard rolls his eyes as he puts in a password before pulling up the video.
The video began as they watch a couple people go to the supply closet. The camera is angled in such a way that you can see into the closet. When opened by the other people you could only see basic office supplies. “This is about ten minutes before the incident.” The man playing the video comments before fast-forwarding the tape. No one else entered the hall when the door flew open, and a man fell through the door sliding slightly.
“What in the...” Mercer was gobsmacked because the way the man fell was extremely strange. In a way, he couldn’t put his finger on it. It was just wrong. Not to mention if he had fallen from the closet like that blood would have been everywhere in there. But there was nothing like that.
“Who is he?” O’Conal turned to a plain-clothed officer.
The officer checked his notes, “His license says Nicholas I Knight, and according to his mother, he has been out of town for the past two weeks. At some conference.”
“Does he work in the building?” Detective Mercer asked on a hunch.
“We're still going around the building but none of the businesses on that floor or the two above or below know who he is.”
“Why are you here Mr. Knight?” Mercer asked staring at the screen, going over the footage over and over again. After a few repetitions, O’Conal noticed something. Mr Knight would appear then the man who shouted for help and who also could not find a record of would walk into the frame and then seemingly disappear walking out of view of any cameras. They were already working on figuring out who that was. No this was different. “Go Back.”
The tape rewound showed the man fall through, but what she noticed was only there for a single second. A flicker. “There.” She pointed. “Can you slow it down?”
The tape slowly stepped through the footage, and they quickly see a strange outline of what looked to be a ceiling and possibly a bunch of books piled around the door. A place, completely different from the closet.
“What is that?” Detective Mercer Asked the technician.
The technician leaned in before shrugging. “Could be an artifact or some kind of optical illusion. It's only there for a single frame.”
“Well, what's Mr. Knights's condition.”
“Stable but he lost a lot of blood.” O’Conal Commented.
“I’m a head over there, see if we can get some answers,” Mercer said heading out of the office. While the others continued to go over the footage.
#
In a place of medicine, healing, and death. Two people a man and a woman standing just outside reality stand looking at an unconscious man.
The woman turns to the man, “Can't we just heal him?”
The man shakes his head. “You know how this works Ge. He is a Hero and must go through his own trials.”
Ge could only shake her head. “He was never meant to have trials, he was just supposed to...”
Del laughed. “Meet gods, get yelled at by angry Heroes, cultivators burning for revenge.” He shook his head. “I know what you wanted Ge but everyone goes through trials. You should know this. Having had your own.”
“But...I ...I know I just want to help everyone I can.” Ge replied defeated. “We've seen some messed up things, in these summonings.”
“True. And he is still learning. There is so much more he can do.”
Ge looked down at the man they had pinned their little project on. “What do we do now? There's no one to send those people on.” Ge paused. “Till he wakes up at least. And the longer he’s here…” She trailed off letting the implication linger.
Del let out a long sigh. “I know.”
Ge turned thoughtful, “You know there is a witch we could call.”
“No.” Del shook his head. “And besides you know she's setting up her own city.”
“Oh. She figure out how to grow buildings? She’s been stuck on that for the last six months.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Out of mushrooms.” Del smiled wistfully, “It's quite a sight.”
The door to the hospital room opened as a team of doctors and nurses entered. “Why are we transferring him?” One of the nurses asked.
“Now that he’s stable he’s being transferred to a specialist hospital.” Another member answered.
“That's what I don’t understand why so soon? It’s not like he has complications.”
“Look at his insurance.” The head nurse said handing over a chart.
“Holy shit! I thought that was a myth. Is he a billionaire's son or something?”
“No idea. It's just procedure.”
The team prattled on as they prepare Nicki for transfer, as two entities to one last look at Nicki, before stepping through a rift in reality to a place real and not, between this and that, here and there, a place between.
#
Detective Mercer was talking to the victim's parents, after learning he had fallen into a coma, from lack of blood.
“When did he start this new job?”
“I think it was a month or so ago.” The man’s mother answered.
“And so you know what he does at this position?”
“All he said was it was an office job helping Kids. So I think it is some kind of social work.”
There was no business like that on that floor. “Have you been to his office?”
“Come on officer we are his parents.” The man's father chimed. “How would it look to show up where your kid's workplace.”
Mercer gave the man a nod, “True. But you do know where that is?”
“Um...” He thought before the Mother finished for him.
“Downtown. That's really all we know.”
Seems they don’t know anything about the job. “Does your son have any enemies?”
“No.” The mother looked concerned. “Why would he?”
“People get wrapped up in a lot of things Mrs. Knight, and people aren't always rational.”
“Do you think my son was targeted?” Panic creeping into her voice
“We can't rule anything out. There is a lot not adding up about this. Did you know that there was a disappearance in that very same hall not too long ago?”
“That was where he worked?”
The shock in her voice appeared genuine, “And you’re sure he was supposed to be out of town?”
“Yes, he has for the last few weeks. We just thought it was for training, they’ve been having him stay for days at a time.”
Thats odd but not illegal. Mercer went back and forth with the victim's parents for a while but with no new information forthcoming he gave them his card and bid them farewell. Promising to call as soon as he had an update.
That had been a few days ago and the boy was transferred to some out-of-state hospital. A private hospital reserved for the wealthy. None of the cases was making any sense. Everything about the kid was weird. A month ago he was just doing data entry. Now his accounts were growing at a massive rate, from a company he couldn’t track down, and he had that impossible insurance. Just who are you? He was starting to lean toward him being involved with the mob or falling in with the wrong people. But there was none of the telltale signs of being involved. Everything was above board, and that was what had him stumped.
Detective Mercer was sitting at his desk going over the footage for the thousandth time. Trying to understand what had happened. Everything was pointing to him literally appearing in the closet and bleeding. His Sergent wanted this settled since this was the second case from the same building.
Then there was the second man who also appeared from nowhere to call for help. Then disappearing just as fast. He was the only suspect. His working theory was that Mr. Knight had a small explosive go off inside him, and had been hiding in the closet for more than a day. The recording only showing the last twenty-four hours. It was the only possible explanation. Even that felt like it was reaching. But why?
“Sir.” He was interrupted by one of the intake officers.
“Ah sorry, Bennet.”
“It's alright.” She was trying to work her way up to detective. “I heard you were working on the mysterious bloody closet case.”
“Yeah, and it makes no damn sense.”
“Well, there was something you might not be aware of.” She said playfully.
“Is it the missing persons filed shortly before he vanished?” He had already looked into finding it was just a simple case of a mother worrying.
“Yes?”
“I thought that was odd, but I don't know if it's related. It just...”
“Sir. I interviewed him since he disappeared at the same time as the Hayes kid. And, not to sound crazy, there was something odd about him.”
“Hayes? Why does that sound familiar.”
“Missing persons. Who, might I add, was the last scene in that building on that floor.”
“I’ll have to look into if there is a connection. Seems too similar to be a coincidence. Now what do mean odd? Was he twitchy or something.”
“No more then normal. I'm going to sound crazy which is why I didn't add it to the report.”
He raises an eyebrow, “What?”
“His eyes glowed.”
“Like shined.”
“No like lit up like a light bulb it was quick and it happens multiple times. They glowed gold for a few seconds as he seemed to look off into nothing.” Mercer gave her a deadpan stare. “Just thought I’d add to the weirdness.”
“Gonna be honest that makes as much sense as this case. And as much as I want to dismiss what you're saying as crazy. I don't think I can.”
“What do you think it means?”
“Only he can answer that.” He turned to his screen frozen on the image of another place behind a door, and a man collapsed on the floor.
#
In an office that should not exist. In a building made to help Heroes. A male Djinn is desperately, and excitedly searching through information as a female knocks on his door.
“How goes searching the library?” Illia asked hoping for some good news.
Rizar looks up with a huge smile, “It's got books on absolutely everything!”
“Everything?” Then maybe there’s a way home hidden in there.
“Spells, magic coins, artificing, transformation, rituals, blood-magic, herbs, alchemy, smithing, something called blue magic, medicine, technology.” Rixar took a moment to breathe. “They even have that martial art stuff from the eastern isles. There is even soul magic here. It is anything and everything you could think of.”
“Cooking recipes.” She asked as a joke.
“ Yes! Not to mention, magic cooking recipes! And even instructions on how to create something called a system.”
This was all well and good. And she would be sure to get the right Djinn on it. Yet something about all these resources bothered her. “With all that knowledge, why didn't the humans use it against us?”
“He can't read?” Rixar tossed out.
“Couldn't be that simple.”
“But this is all good news.”
“Oh?”
“He's alive!” Rixar said like a massive revelation.
“Ok. And that's good. Besides us being able to leave.
“Yes! Isn’t it obvious he could have killed us all with a flick of his wrist but he didn't?” He said gesturing to the pile of books all around him. “He is much more benevolent than we thought.”
“At least that's a good thing.” Though Illia wasn't sure how he’d react when he returned she was not looking forward to that confrontation. “Did you find anything more on humans?”
“Yes! It’s all very fascinating, but put simply.” He paused for dramatic effect. “All our stories are wrong.”
“How?” Illia felt her heart drop. If the stories are wrong then can we even get back?
“Cold iron will kill them, but so would anything else that stabbed them like us. Same with us. Cold iron isn't special.”
The people wouldn’t like that. They had spent a long time making that cold iron cage.
“They also do make deals, but so does every species.”
“Names?”
“Yeah. Having their name means nothing. In fact, they can't take yours either. What's even more interesting is I found their myths on our kind.”
That caught her attention. “We’re myths to them? What are we?”
“We grant wishes.”
Illia recoiled in disbelief.
Rizar positively glowed at her reaction. “Three to be precise. And will twist the wish if not worded right. Also, we tend to come out of an object like lamps.”
“Wait.” This was a lot to process, as she made the connection. “Your talking about our home spirits.” Rixar nodded. “They don't grant wishes. Why would they think that?”
He shrugged, “There's also another one of our creation myths. Djinn created of fire.”
“I think I've heard that before from the church.”
“And humans of the earth, more specifically clay.”
“Interesting.”
“Here's what I think.” Rixar stood excitedly. “I think our people interacted at some point in the distant past and stories got jumbled or exaggerated.”
“As fascinating as this is. What do we do now?” She needed something to use. The council and the rest of the people were becoming restless. And dark whispers were spreading. She and the others on the council were trying to give them something to focus on.
“Well, we have a library with all knowledge. Why don't we use it?”