Friday, May 3rd, 2069
“You’ve heard from a great deal of witnesses and experts over the last few days,” Mr. Varnish intoned, his somber voice was serious and ingratiating. “Now, let me summarize what we’ve learned and lay out the events on the day in question.”
Mr. Varnish already had a few pieces of equipment on the floor for his ‘presentation’ and the white screen to project onto was already down. He moved to his desk and pulled out a marker even as Smegma studied the pages and photos laid out on Mr. Varnish’s desk.
“Honestly, it’s just a bunch of pictures, and Private Investigator contracts,” Smegma explained, sounding confused.
“On January 3rd, 2069, Mr. Morgan Hallsbrad was hired to investigate the murder of Lillianne Matthews, in Miami Florida.” Mr. Varnish stuck a contract onto a rather large whiteboard, and handed it out to Mrs. Stovall and the Judge, entering it into evidence. “Lillianne Matthews’ father Gerald hired him to assist in the Police Investigation.”
More papers were entered into evidence and I read over Mrs. Stovall’s shoulder as a rather convincing story took shape. The first page was the case file for Lillianne Matthews, and the second was a contract between her father Gerald and Morgan Hallsbrad.
Mr. Varnish continued his story, showing the investigation Morgan Hallsbrad took that led him into the morgues of the victims and explained the most glaring piece of evidence against him—the notebook. But most importantly—the DNA of the victims that was found inside of said notebook.
Mrs. Stovall and I had talked after each court session, and so I knew that the notebook was a rather big piece of evidence, and one that supported my side of events. To have it removed as evidence of Morgan’s ill intent and potential culpability as the Heartless Killer murderer left only one glaring issue in Mr. Varnish’s story.
If, as I suspected, Varnish wanted to try and paint me out to be the Heartless Killer, there was no way in hell that he could place me at the scene of any of the other murders. So, his original tale of Morgan Hallsbrad tracking the murders to me, made no sense. I wasn’t—
“That brings us to why Mr. Hallsbrad was visiting Brodie Flacarada, on April 1st, 2069. Morgan Hallsbrad had tracked the killings through a link to a particular phenomenon. Something that at first, he believed was ludicrous. And yet—there was no other explanation.”
Mr. Varnish put a picture up on the whiteboard and the magnet that snapped it in place sounded far louder than even the Judges gavel had earlier. The picture was so eerily familiar, that at first I assumed I’d seen it before—but the more I squinted, the more my stomach started to churn.
Mr. Varnish slowly walked the other two copies of the pictures to the Judge, and then to Mrs. Stovall. As he approached, he held the picture in front of his chest, his eyes fixed on me, while his face held a knowing smile. I blinked at the image and then up at Mr. Varnish, fighting my natural reaction of looking away—or looking to where I knew the individual represented in this picture was.
The closer the picture came, the more sure I was that it wasn’t Smegma. It was a picture of a painting that looked almost exactly like the Felguard-Imp, but it could also have been something from the Catholic religion. Sure, it was eerily similar but because it was a painted piece—it also felt generalized.
I focused on that, even as Mr. Varnish studied my expression. Smegma floated behind me and also studied the picture. For once, he was deathly quiet, and I had the urge to mentally want to scream at him for an explanation, but managed to hold it in. I went as far as to tilt my head in confusion at the ‘painting’.
“Morgan Hallsbrad believed that there was a Demonic Skill involved with the Heartless Killer murders,” Mr. Varnish exclaimed as he spun to face the jurors. The gasps of alarm that followed his sudden motion and pronouncement were likely what he had been aiming for. “This ‘Demonic Skill’, he believed, had the ability to Cannibalize other Skills and grow stronger.”
Mr. Varnish pulled out another page, which was handed again to the Judge. Mrs. Varnish and then pinned a picture onto the board. “Here is a picture of a page in his notebook. I will read it.
“The Demon’s Skill grows, the more it consumes. The more Mana it uses, but especially if it finds other powerful Skills… Then it powers up, growing in Rank.”
Mr. Varnish paused, and relished the stillness in the courtroom. His tale had led everyone to a moment, balancing on the edge of our seats. Even myself and Mrs. Stovall weren’t immune to his falsehoods. “Morgan Hallsbrad discovered that this Demonic Skill was so powerful it had, in fact, been shattered and Awakened in pieces and was still as powerful as his investigation indicated. The killer is one of these unfortunate souls who has a piece, and Morgan Hallsbrad suspected that Brodie Flacarada was another.”
“Objection your honor. Hearsay,” Mrs. Stovall said as she shot to her feet.
“Your honor, I am simply stating what Morgan Hallsbrad’s notes indicated,” Mr. Varnish said quickly. He held up a page, and the judge narrowed her eyes slightly.
“Counsels, approach,” she ordered. Smegma obviously moved with them.
My mouth fell open, despite all of the warnings and training I’d gone through to not show emotion. I couldn’t help it. Mr. Varnish’s tale had no basis in reality, and yet how could I refute something that had no proof.
“Close your mouth you moron,” Smegma scolded, and thanks to his demeaning tone I managed to recall where I was.
[How the husk am I supposed to prove that I don’t have a Demonic Skill that consumes other Skills—when I do in fact have a Demonic Skill that doesn’t consume other Skills, but a husking Dragon Heart Skill that does?]
Sure, my rant was a bit manic, and I knew that I didn’t have to prove anything—other than my self-defense case, but this sure felt like an unrecoverable blow to our case. Somehow me and this fictitious killer had a ‘piece’ of the same Skill?
Wait—I turned to Judge Dench. She reportedly had a Truth Seeker Skill of some form. Still, she sat behind her bench, regarding Mr. Varnish, and Mrs. Stovall impassively. Surely, Mr. Varnish’s accusations had been a lie though!
“It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly,” Smegma responded to my unsent thoughts instead of my rant. “It may be wrong, but it seems like he told only the truth about his understanding of Morgan Hallsbrad’s notes on the Demonic Vault Skill. If he believes Morgan Hallsbrad’s notes are true and that you’re holding a piece of some type of Demonic Ability—that sort of thing doesn’t trigger lie detection Skills. They operate based on belief, not on objective facts. Even if he doesn’t believe the spirit of what he’s saying, he may be skirting around things that might disprove his statements and sticking to only the things he believes are true. One way or another—whether he’s being deceitful or honestly believes what he’s saying, the wording is extremely well thought out, even while he’s arguing with the judge here.”
Mr. Varnish and Mrs. Stovall left the bench. Mrs. Stovall returned to her seat and Varnish to his board.
“I’ll make it clear. That these notes are merely what led Morgan Hallsbrad to Brodie Flacarada. They are simply what’s left behind by a great private investigator, on the last case he was on.” Varnish looked to the judge and Mrs. Stovall when he was finished.
When the judge nodded in acceptance, I swear I saw Mrs. Stovall clench her jaw.
Mr. Varnish concluded his speech, reiterating all the points he had already gone over, not forgetting to ensure to paint a picture of Morgan Hallsbrad that made him out to be some sort of ‘Dick Tracy-esque’ private eye. It was a moving tale about a dedicated, selfless man who had been broken by the terrible and seemingly unsolvable relentless murders of the innocent. Living out of Motels, barely scraping by—all to find the next victim of a serial killer—only to find another Cannibal with a Demonic Skill.
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Me.
“Since that’s the end of Mr. Varnish’s witnesses, and we’re already past lunch break. We’ll end it here for the week. Mr. Flacarada, I expect you to be here Monday morning. Another delay will be immediate grounds for me to ask the jury to deliberate, without Mrs. Stovall forming your defense. Understood?”
“Yes, your honor,” Mrs. Stovall said on my behalf. We all stood as the Jury was dismissed, followed by the Judge. Then Mrs. Stovall and I quickly attempted to walk from the room as well.
“Mrs. Stovall, I think it’s time for another quick settlement meeting, don’t you?” Mr. Varnish said smugly.
Mrs. Stovall looked to me, and I was about to start shaking my head, when Smegma spoke up. “Take his meeting. I want to see what he thinks he knows—Or, more importantly, what his backer knows.”
Trying not to give away the literal Demon on my shoulder, I slowly changed my intended motion into a nod. Mrs. Stovall raised an eyebrow but nodded toward Mr. Varnish. “I need to deliberate with my client. We’ll arrive at your office in two hours.”
* * *
This time my father arrived at the warehouse offices of Mr. Varnish. My dad made a face at the sheet-metal exterior. “If he’s not from Windsor, is he renting this building?”
I blinked, not having considered that rather glaring insight on the last visit. If he was renting this space, and the inside looked the way it did—what the hell would his actual offices look like? My father’s frown deepened when we rounded the corner and he saw the giant-sized double doors. He even went as far as to run his hand over it.
“This is Portal wood…” He mumbled to himself.
Mrs. Stovall gave him a stern look, and he composed himself before she knocked. The door swung open to reveal a small woman that couldn’t be taller than five feet. The very fact that she had moved the massive doors was a testament to the oil on the hinges or their design.
“Please, come in. Mr. Varnish is just in the conference room. Can I get you a refreshment while you wait?”
Mrs. Stovall smiled. She’d predicted Mr. Varnish making us wait on arrival. She’d called it a power play. He likely was nearby observing—or at least that’s what Smegma suggested.
I went over our discussion back at the house. All I needed to do was hear out Mr. Varnish’s offer. Hear it out and not allow him to cast any doubt on the case. Mrs. Stovall claimed to still be confident in our victory—and so I just needed to believe in her.
I fiddled with my phone in my pocket. Sparkle Legion had posted the second video, and my desire to see the response was burning a hole in my pocket. Still, if Mr. Varnish was watching, that could make me look anxious, so I settled with just tapping the pocket to confirm I had my phone with me and as a promise that I’d get to watch it later.
That tap turned into a death grip as I shot to my feet. The door that led deeper into the offices of Mr. Varnish had opened, but despite my expectations of finding the smarmy A-ranked Lawyer framed in the doorway—I found Echo-Five. Echo-Five, as well as a glare that threatened severe pain that was directed at me and my father.
“What are you doing here?” I exclaimed, not managing to clamp my teeth shut before the words escaped.
“Ah, forgive me. The Mirage Guild is a new client of ours,” Mr. Varnish said as he stepped into the waiting room behind Echo-Five. “Echo-Five here simply arrived to go over the facts about a new case they are preparing to bring to the courts. Have a wonderful evening Echo, we’ll chat soon.”
Echo-Five didn’t immediately start moving toward the door. Instead, seemingly choosing to try to stab us with his stare. I couldn’t speak for my father, but I certainly got goosebumps. There was only one ‘case’ that Mirage would be pursuing at this time. A case against the Miner’s who’d closed their permanent Portal…
“Mr. Flacarada. Brodie. If you’ll come this way,” Mr. Varnish said, seeming to indicate that we should walk by Echo-Five and through the door. I looked at the holster on the Hunter’s hip and then the knife that his other hand was twitching toward and simply stayed where I was. There was no way I was going to offer the man my back to stab…
Thankfully, Echo-Five scoffed and strode toward the exit an awkward moment later. Mr. Varnish’s smile was a hair too large for the current moment, as he said, “Mrs. Stovall, we’ve set up to greet your party in the boardroom. Follow me.”
I followed Mrs. Stovall while Smegma hovered behind me. Mr. Varnish stopped in the doorway, and asked, “Mr. Flacarada?”
At first I thought he was talking to me, but then saw his eyes were directed behind me, and with my father here he’d likely call me Brodie. I turned to see my father taking in the first sight through the doorway with a look of shocked reverence. Gary shook himself and took a few quick steps to catch up to us.
As he drew even with me, he whispered, “It’s one thing to be told about all this and another thing to actually see it.”
Soon enough we were back in the Crystal Glass Conference Room, and the same players as before were in the room. I looked directly at Aurome and Seleff, the two Larvae Guild members, refusing to break eye contact. I wanted them to know that I knew they were the ones who had wanted the last meeting. I also secretly hoped I’d catch the moment one of them used their Skill on me.
Instead, I got a shiver as the darker skinned man—who I believed was Aurome, smiled at me. He exuded a type of confidence that I’d seen in post-Portal interviews, and movies but had never experienced first-hand. His eyes made me feel like prey caught out in the open. Needless to say, I looked away first, even as my cheeks flushed red from embarrassment.
“So, my backers…” Mr. Varnish said, indicating Aurome and by association Seleff. “Would like to offer similar terms as last time. If Brodie is willing to be placed under Guild Arrest for two years, we are willing to drop this case. They simply would like to observe Brodie to ensure that he doesn’t possess the Cannibalistic Demonic Skill that Morgan Hallsbrad identified.”
Mrs. Stovall glanced at me before sighing angrily. “This is the same problem as last time. You have done nothing to prove that Brodie acted in anything but self defense on April 1st. As such, this is still a spurious offer—which, don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve now doubled, after you have already attempted to ruin my clients life.”
“I assure you Mrs. Stovall, we have done nothing to ruin your client's life. We are simply presenting the facts of this case, as we know them. If there was some other way you could prove that Brodie doesn’t possess the Skill in question—then we’d be amenable to that as well.”
Mrs. Stovall didn’t glance at me this time, even as she quickly retorted. “First of all, you cannot prove a negative. Second of all, any attempt to do so would be a violation of the Hunter Protection Act of twenty-fifty-five—“
“Not if Brodie agrees to be tested and share his results…” Ashley cut in. “The Larvae Guild is simply trying to see Morgan Hallsbrad’s investigation through to the end.”
“Morgan Hallsbrad’s investigation? Don’t you mean ‘The Shop’, who contacted all of the deceased victims on SwiftGram before the murders?” Mrs. Stovall countered.
“Ahh,” Mr. Varnish said, as he held his hand out toward Ashley. She handed him a page which he slid across the table to Mrs. Stovall. “As you’ll see Mrs. Stovall, ‘The Shop’ SwiftGram account is not owned by Morgan Hallsbrad, and has continued to be active after his death.”
Mrs. Stovall frowned at the page and then looked at me. Her eyes carried a concern that hadn’t been there earlier at the house. She blinked and it was gone, replaced by determination. “That does not mean the account wasn’t used to gain access to the victims for Morgan,” she said, emphasizing her point. “Plus, he’s on the verge of being found Guilty in eight States…”
Mr. Varnish held out his hand again and Ashley placed another paper into it. He slid this across the table as well. This time, with no explanation. I leaned in to read with Mrs. Stovall and felt my blood stop as my heart seized in my chest.
‘All Cases in Regard to the Heartless Killer Murders Have Been Suspended and Transferred to Supreme Court,’ the title read. I looked at Mrs. Stovall and found her face also paling as she read on, clearly digging deeper into the page than I had. My brain remained calm, but frantic, as it tried to calculate what that meant for my trial.
I knew we’d be counting on Morgan Hallsbrad’s connection to the Shop account, and the other forty-something cases of Murder. What else did we have?
“We have your version of events. We have their inability to confirm that you have the Skill they’ve claimed, and… we have what they really want,” Smegma countered my racing thoughts.
I had been mentally with him until his last point, but he clarified when he heard my confusion. “The Demonic Vault Skill. It’s clearly why they want you under them for two years. The rest is just bullshit.”
[That doesn’t change the fact that I’d be under Guild Arrest, in Europe, for two years!] I shouted mentally, while staring blindly at the page in Mrs. Stovall’s hands.
Mrs. Stovall thankfully rallied on my behalf. “None of this changes the fact that my client acted in self defense. While you’ve woven a convincing tale and managed to get it on record. You and I both saw Judge Dench mark down a few notes that her Truth Seeker Skill picked out.”
To my surprise, Mr. Varnish nodded, accepting that point. I hadn’t noticed anything like that and so was slightly shocked at the news. That surely meant the jury would be told of the falsehoods Mr. Varnish had laid out. Didn’t that mean I was fine?
“Ashley, please go get the member of Mirage,” Mr. Varnish said, sounding nonplussed about the Judge possibly puncturing holes in his woven tale of falsehoods.
Ashley stood up and moved to the second set of doors our group hadn’t entered through. She made a motion to someone outside and in walked a man in jeans and a stained white T-shirt. I narrowed my eyes, trying to understand what he was doing here.
“Oh husk!” Smegma cursed. I knew what he was going to say next before he even began. “That’s the guy that called the cops and who I offered a Skill to!”