“Fucking bloodbath,” Maggie muttered to herself upon seeing the blue tent that covered the body of Jason. Looking at the yellow caution tape, she ignored it and ducked under it. With the reek of blood and the rot of a ghoul’s stench that they left behind for ages, anyone with even a finger in the supernatural world nearby would know something bad went down last night.
“What happened here?” She muttered to herself.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” A baby-faced officer asked, standing on the other side of the yellow caution tape that cordoned off half of Bellflower Blvd., snarling traffic for half of the City of Long Beach.
“Ma’am—”
Maggie stopped short. “Ma’am? I’m twenty-five.” Giving him a hard glare, the patrolman balked a second.
“Alright, miss. Stay behind the--“
Maggie rolled her eyes and flashed her wallet at him. The patrolman jerked back, then waved her through.
“Sorry detective.”
Maggie smiled to herself. Have to thank Maurice for the perception paper. Worth more than its weight in gold. She didn’t want to rely on it too heavily since she knew it could only go so far.
The scene looked like it was ready to be opened again. Good, got here before it was too late.
It was a still a mess. The body of Jason was gone, only the tape outline of his broken, torn body. Maggie bit back a tear. Fucking Thomas. How many does he have now? She pushed the thought aside as a woman in a CSI vest came up to her.
“You’re gonna ruin the evidence here,” the CSI said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Please. Torn apart. How hard for you to get forensics?” Maggie asked, gesturing around the scene.
“How’d you know?” The CSI asked.
“I have eyes.” Maggie cocked an eyebrow, then pointed to the four separate places the body parts taped off. Moving past the CSI, she looked up at the streetlamp, noting the burned-out bulb. What happened? How was the light affected?
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
“Any idea what’s wrong with this streetlamp?”
“Not just this one. Up and down the street, all are like this. Streetlamps aren’t exactly high on the priority list of the city,” the CSI said, rolling her head and rubbing at her neck. “Anything you need, detective? I’m trying to—”
“Go back to it, just giving the scene one last look.”
“Alright,” the CSI said, rolling her eyes.
Maggie frowned, more to herself than the tech. Scanning the scene, she spotted a small pool of black that a tech was trying to collect. She moved closer to observe, then cursed when she realized what he was trying to collect. The black goop on the little collection tool wasn’t
“Problems?” Maggie asked.
“Talk to my supervisor,” the male tech murmured. “I don’t do people.”
Maggie knelt down next to the tech. The guy focused on the task, yet couldn’t seem to get the stuff off. “You need to be a bit more careful with that. It could--“
“Look lady, I’m doing my job. Fuck off.” The tech then just shoved the utensil into the baggie, stood up and walked off muttering about, “Not my day to deal with normals.”
Maggie looked around, saw the tech was heading towards the female CSI whom Maggie had spoken with first. After taking a moment, they both walk closer. Maggie hated the fact she didn’t have time to ground herself more and give a better reason for being here. All while she needed to break out magic on the sly. Holding her hand over the black ichor, she closed her eyes while opening her third eye.
A confusing mélange of images, smells, sounds, and thoughts assaulted her in a massive barrage of sensations.
Thomas, clicking his claws, making the streetlight die.
Ten more ghouls, all converging, then killing Jason. Devouring the very essence of Jason. So, he’s truly gone?
The fetid stench of death and decay choked her, bile rising to the back of her throat.
The keening howl of the ghouls as they lapped up the last of Jason’s blood; each one growing a more corporeal from his blood.
Fuck, he has a full pack now. What the fuck are we going to do?
“Lady, I don’t care what kind of crackerjack badge you have. But you need to the fuck out of my crime scene. Comprende?” The CSI woman snapped, pulling Maggie from her vision.
Maggie turned round, still shaken from her vision. She looked at the woman tech supervisor blankly at first before reality came slamming back to her.
“I’m going!” Maggie said, walking away, drawing her hands into her pockets. Secreted in her right hand, a small ball of the ichor she had gathered. With a supreme amount of concentration, she could keep the little ball from touching her skin. She knew better than to let that happen. At least happen again. With some dexterity, she made the ball drop into a waiting glass vial. When she muttered a sealing spell. She felt herself growing weak, stopping at a trashcan. Taking a beat, she pulled the vial out enough to spy the summoned paper wrapping around the vial.
“Need to get this back to the Order to see what’s going on,” she said to herself, then kept moving towards her parked car.