He watched from the shadows. A set of heavy curtains pulled together over the windows blocked all, but the merest bit of light from shining out from in between the two told him what he wanted to know. Someone was home. Carl hadn’t been heard from for a week, his job hadn’t heard from him, none of his drinking buddies knew where he was and most importantly his daughter didn’t even know where he was.
His daughter however did try to go to his apartment and had seen the light underneath the door. She’d assumed her father had ignored her banging and yelling through the door, or so that’s what the texts to her mother had said. The journal entry torn out and thrown away had said something completely different. She had smelt something foul something that had incited a primal fear in her that had made her turn away. It had made her delude herself that she’d be wrong, crossing out the entry and trying to get rid of it.
Without a muscle moving He disappeared from his perch across the street appearing now on the fire escape outside the window. Crouching down the man pressed his right hand to the glass and held still his head slightly tilted as he listened to something only he could hear. Nodding slightly to himself he moved his left hand to the frame of the window. Trailing his fingers along it he stopped on the left side of the frame in the middle. The scent of ozone, and the sizzle of burning filled the air abruptly before the figure pushed the window open with the hand still on the window. The window slid open with no resistance. Ducking down he entered the apartment through the window.
As the smell hit him he took a half step back. It was foul.
A glance a the coffee table in the living room he had just entered gave him part of the answer. 3 Costco chickens lay open 2 partially eaten 1 untouched, all showing signs of rotting and decay. Looking around the small living room he saw a beaten old recliner, a large television, and several bookshelves containing various pictures and a few books. The most noticeable of the bookcases was the one on the ground. Shattered glass from a picture frame's glinted in the stained light brown shag carpet. Several trophies strewed about. Falling to his knees he glanced underneath the coffee table and saw one underneath it. Lighting the skirt of the recliner he checked to see if anything else had fallen underneath it. A small picture resided underneath it pulling it out he inspected it. A large man and his young daughter were at some sporting event. Her in her youth uniform he knelt smiling holding her tiny first-place trophy.
While the photo was certainly a cherished and touching memory it wasn’t what had caught his attention. The streak of blood on it did, however. Looking around the room he noted the distinct lack of any other blood around the room. Placing the picture on the table next to the rotting carcass he knelt down again and pressed his face to the ground blue faceless helm he wore looking right at the toppled bookshelf. Reaching out he picked up one of the fallen frames just enough to see under it. There was something there Or rather a lack of something there. It was clean. The light brown carpet was a much cleaner shade than what he’d seen on entry. Placing the photo back down he stood up. Fixing his overcoat with sharp deliberate movements he reached into it and pulled out a small metallic box and flicked it at the bookcase.
Walking around the coffee table to avoid the glass and what he suspected to be a deliberate setup by whoever ever clearly broken into this home he inspected the television and the entertainment setup underneath it. The dust had started to form around the game console and other places not touched as often telling him that no conflict had been fought near it. Walking to the door he scanned the deadbolt and hinges for signs of forced entry. There were none.
He tilted his head in interest and touched the door.
“It’s new,” he said aloud.
His voice was synthesized, white noise or the speaker of the helmet making the voice indistinct and menacing.
Crouching down he ran his hand through the carpet. After a moment he stopped and with a deft finger untangled a large splinter that’d been hidden in the carpet. Holding it up he saw a nearly identical color to the new door on one side and the bare wood on the other. Pocketing it he turned to go deeper into the apartment. Flicking another small box into a vent as he passed by it he opened the door in the hallway and glanced at it. It was a rather small and disgusting bathroom. Pausing at the doorway the indecision visible in his body language before he finally stepped into the bathroom. Going to the counter he inspected it briefly checking the mirror underneath the lip of the sink with one gloved finger and inspecting it. Finding nothing of note he reached into the sink and pulled up the drain. The sink was old and made more for function than to increase the properties value. Reaching into his coat he dropped a pill down the drain and closed it back up. Glancing at the toilet he used his boot to flick open the lid and then the seat. The toilet was relatively clean but still disgusting. Closing it with his foot he moved past the toilet giving it as wide a birth as possible as he moved to look at the bathtub. Looking it over the grime patterns, told him all he needed to know. It hadn’t been touched. Leaving the bathroom as quickly as possible he closed the door behind himself. Checking the kitchen he found a similar story to the bathroom. It had been left undisturbed by whoever had broken in.
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Well, mostly undisturbed. The fridges inside had been cleared out fully and chemically cleaned to not leave even a change of dna or a fingerprint. Checking the kitchen’s knife drawer meticulously he saw no murder or weapon used in self-defense. Leaving the kitchen after haphazardly rearranging the knives in it again he moved to the final room in the apartment.
Stopping at the door he slid his finger under the doorway the shag carpet giving enough room in between the door and floor to let him do so. Pausing for a few moments he finally pulled his finger out from underneath it and opened the door. The terrible scent that had permeated the apartment's main cause was finally revealed.
The mutilated body of the apartment's owner was tied up and spread by nylon rope. His body displayed a sloppy approximation of a Viking blood eagle. The man's unusual outfit had been torn apart. Metal bands that had looped around his body had been cut cleanly in one blow the horned helmet he was wearing was dented and cut in several places. Circling the body slowly he took in the sight fully. A cut here, tears in the outfit there, and so on until he could imagine what had happened almost fully. The death blow had come before this gruesome display. This had been done to send a message.
Pulling out a recorder he clicked it and started to talk.
“Victim 6 is the villain known as Bull Rush, Powers include invulnerability, Super strength, and advanced speed that increased when charging towards someone who had hit him,” He reached into his jacket as he talked and pulled up a flat black cloth case.
“Deathblow came from the front. A clean incision about 2 inches wide. A cursory look suggests that the weapon used to kill him was bladed, either enhanced, by science, channeled someone's power, or magical in nature,” he opened the case to reveal a neat row of surgical tools. The door was initially forced open, but I believe the death blow was done cleanly in one cut. Small cuts and bruising show he’d been recently in a fight prior to the murder, but I believe it to be unrelated, as Bull Rush was known to actively avoid murdering people in favor of running away from the theft,” he pulled out a UV light and shinned it about the room. Finding what he was looking for he continued with his monologue.
“Writing in invisible ink once again found at sight, words written are as follows. ‘Like Icarus, this man flew too close to the sun. Remember we are, but men, not gods,’ once again the message at the scene of the crime references Icarus. The context and display of the body make me believe this is a human supremacist group intent on killing superhumans but could also be the ravings of one individual. Searches for anti superhuman groups have brought up multiple dead ends at this point but still seems to be the best course for investigation,” turning off the light he put it back in the pouch and set to work meticulously and with great care. He gathered a small tissue sample from the wound that had killed him and several other locations where the man had been wounded.
“My initial guess on how the murder went is as follows. Bull Rush robbed Steel City First bank at 6 pm during rush hour. Delay in police arrival at the scene allows him to get away through the sewer. At 8 pm he dropped off his loot with his washer and returns home to prepare to receive his daughter the next day. He is in the living room when a guest he is familiar with enters the apartment. He is stabbed through the heart and dead by 915, 930 at the latest. He’s most likely stabbed just after the door is closed and he was turned to talk to the person. At this point, he stumbles into the bookcase and falls dead. I believe the door was shattered by an over-eager accomplice who heard the crash of the large superhuman and assumed the worst. A 3rd and possibly 4th participant set to clean the blood, but leave it a mess to try and delay the investigation. Unsure if that's the motif or a quirk. The person who murdered Bull Rush and the person who shattered the door, most likely an individual with super strength arrange his body and display messages. Judging by the message they left, they have augmented humans or some sort of contractors,” having gathered all he needed he packs up his small autopsy kit and stores it in his coat.
“I’ve gathered multiple tissues, blood, and on-site samples to further assist in the investigation,” he said.
“Icarus is growing bolder with each kill. Going after stronger and stronger superhumans, if this isn’t stopped soon supers will get paranoid and human v superhuman fighting might happen,” he said as he walked out of the apartment and closed the door behind himself.
“Computer diagrams of the story once it is fully cracked by a journalist suggests to me 3 months before the worst happens,” pausing he stops at the window to pick up the small boxes and pill he’d thrown about the apartment and put them back in his coat.
“Retrieval of nano-investigators complete, they should give me some promising information,” stepping out onto the fire escape he closed the window behind himself and looked at the lights of the city.
“Icarus will burn this city to the ground if this isn’t stopped,” he said as he clicked his recorder off, stored it then in a cloud of smoke he disappeared.