Alarms blared in the comms of a black car strolling through some northward streets of the South-Western District: “Gray Alert. Gray Alert. Suspected site going dark in the Pearson House. Suspected site going dark. Nearby units please respond.”
“Fucking hell, second time this week?” The one in the driving seat, going by the codename of Cinder, asked as he dismissed the alarm.
“We’re close enough. We should go.” The one in the passenger seat, going by the codename Bolt, shook his head.
“Nah, we should wait a bit.” Cinder slowly merged into a left turn lane: “Those who got there first have to write the reports. I don’t know if I have time for that.”
“Nobody has time for that.” Bolt scoffed: “I don’t know why they would even require it. But - maybe the newbies would want to do it. I would if it’s my first or second year.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Cinder nodded as he made the turn and pulled the car into the slow lane. According to his memories, to get to the Pearson House site he just needed to go straight along this road for a bit, exit on the right and then follow a narrow lane up a hill for a short distance. It was at most a 20 minute drive if they would speed up slightly. But right now they had very little intention to do so.
“So - what do you think burned the site this time?” After a round half a minute of silence, Bolt asked, his breathing heavier and faster by a small extent: “What, uh I mean - what do you think happened last time?”
“I don’t think about it. I don’t know anything about it.” Cinder shook his head.
“Come on, you’ve got higher access than most, you must know something.”
“And I’m telling you I don’t know and I don’t really wanna know.” Cinder coughed then sighed: “Trust me, the more you know the more trouble it could bring you. Because they are more likely to seek you out and force you to do stuff if they know you know. So unless you are well connected and want to rise through the ranks and gain favors from the council, trying to stay low is the best cause of survival.”
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“But if we don’t know what caused it, how can we even resolve the - the thing?”
“I wouldn’t recommend asking that of anyone - it’s never up to our level to actually resolve any of the problems.” Cinder scratched his forehead and then his nose bridge: “It’s always someone who knows, who practices both the forbidden martial arts as well as rituals. They are the true pillars of our operation. As long as they’re there, all we need to do is stop civilians from coming too close, poke around the scene and surrounding neighborhoods and sometimes clean up after the mess. And occasionally, we need to do the work of shutting nosy civilians up.”
“Didn’t a few of them perish - ”
“Ssssh!” Cinder shushed the younger man in the passenger seat: “Shut your mouth or I’m gonna have to throw you outta this car! Just keep it to yourself, okay!? Don’t get involved with what doesn’t concern you!”
The rest of the ride was silent and even more awkward than before.
They finally got to the surrounding area of the site, which was already closed off with police tapes, some other black vehicles just like theirs and some of their cohorts. The once fancy and grand mansion was now covered by some kind of black fog. Hovering on top of the house was a grim black cloud. Dark threads draped from the cloud and into the mansion, through its roof and windows. Neither Cinder nor Bolt knew what was going on - the cloud, the threads, and the fog or mist surrounding the mansion. Everything about the site reeked of foul curses and tragic grudges.
Two men with distinct robes stood in front of the house. The one on the left was wearing all black, with white bagua symbols printed on his back and his sleeves. The one on the right was wearing all red, with some arcane symbols of unknown sources on his shoulders and waist.
“What’s happening?” Cinder asked another duo as he hopped off the car.
“They just said the site had some kind of vengeful spirit outbreak. And they’re dealing with it.” The driver from another car responded.
The two men in robes raised their right hands at the same time. Two spinning short swords of similar sizes arose from their palms. The sword of the man in a black robe glowed in pale silver light, while the sword of the man in a red robe glowed in a dark red light. The two men swung their hands at the dark cloud above the mansion. The swords made a buzzing sound and shot at the cloud leaving streaks of afterimages behind.
With horror in their eyes, those who were not tasked with handling the site watched as two giant, pale hands with boney fingers and long sharp nails broke out from the cloud and blocked the two swords. Immediately, a pale and bloodied face of a woman poked through the cloud. A long slashing wound spanned across her face, cutting through her nose and the space below her eyes. She opened her mouth, and out exploded a window shattering scream as well as dark red fog.
“Back off! Back off!” The two men in robes screamed.
The two swords were corroded and crumbled in mere seconds, the blood fog swept through the two men’s robes. Within the blink of an eye, colorful energy was ripped from their bodies, while their flesh and bones withered and collapsed into piles of tar and pus.