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The Wizard Division
The Beat Goes Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat

The Beat Goes Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat

I sat in the interrogation room, waiting. The past week of doing nothing but shuffling papers had left me bored off my rocker. At this point, I was jumping at the bit to do anything. Even interview a petty thief, apparently.

As he walked in, I could see the malice on his face, irrespective of his Lizardfolk nature. He looked pissed. After some pleasantries in which he tried to spit acid at my face, we got down to business.

“So Ken, can I call you Ken? So Ken, you and I both know you fucked up. No two ways about it. Here’s the thing. You didn’t actually hurt anyone, and we can say you were forced into it because you needed to, right?”

The Lizardman looked up at me, his eyelids blinking horizontally. Judging from his profile, he was here illegally, and had committed a class A felony. Basically we had him over a barrel. That said, Nox just wanted me to get the confession, but I had other ideas.

He kept quiet. I was in.

“Now Ken, the file we got on you from the Australian Division has you living quite close to the location of a break-in. A high profile break-in. Your chances of getting a plea deal wouldn’t be hurt by…. providing any assistance in that investigation.”

The file said it was low probability, but judging from his shifty nature, he had to know something. I had learned a fair amount from the last week of paperwork, and it was that magical criminals all knew each other.

He looked at me with cold, piercing eyes. It was unnerving, but I had entered the Flow the moment he had walked in the door. That was what I was calling the serenity I could switch on at will that I had gained with my last advancement.

“If you’re fuckin’ serious mate, I’ve got some info you might want. But I don’t want to get sent back, you get me?”

“We have a Lizardfolk streetgang down by the docks where I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

He smirked.

“I was the guy what got them into the facility, the cheap cunts. They bolloxed trying to steal some azuralite, and when I scarpered to get away from the freed Arachnos, they fuckin’ ghosted me.”

This was my in, my chance at getting on to an actual investigation.

“You got a description?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Two guys, one skinny pale bastard, black skull tats all over. Junkie, defo. I recognize the signs. Other guy was weird. Like some…. science type. Didn’t catch either name.”

“Alright Ken, I’m gonna take this to my boss, I’ll be back in a couple mi-”

“Y’know he did say one that was pretty weird, he mentioned he was coming to-”

Ken fucking exploded.

I woke up on the floor, papers fluttering everywhere, my head ringing from the soundwave. His head had been vapourized, his upper torso split in two down the middle, a large chunk of the torso just gone.

Fuck.

Nox rushed inside and grabbed me by the head, checking me for head wounds. I was fine, just a bit stunned. He hit me with that rejuvenation spell from my interview, and sat me down after fixing the desk and chairs.

“You good Charlie?”

I nodded, and sighed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick ʄɨʀɛ, I began telling him what I had gotten out of Ken before the incident. A few minutes, and cigarettes later, I was checked over by the CMO and given the option to go home for the day, but I declined.

I was put on stop and check work. Shit, I shoulda just gone home.

Stop and check work is basically the shit work of the magical world, pretty similar to stop and frisk. I had to patrol a few blocks, and any magical folk looking suspicious I was to stop and check their certification.

I slipped on the uniform, we were allowed to wear plainclothes for interrogations, but I was still just a petty officer, so on the streets, uniform it was. Finally, I clipped on the badge and opened my magesight to see the coolest part of my uniform.

Hovering an inch from my regular LAPD badge was the real badge, seven-pointed LAWD star blue and shining, proclaiming to all magical denizens that I was the goddamn law in these here parts.

Walking the beat was something I actually enjoyed a bit, despite all the crank calls and false reports. My partner was a merfolk guy named Krix, and he was chill. Not a mage, but he had years of experience on the streets.

While we were walking the usual streets, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that same weird bronze automaton I had seen the day of my awakening. He/It/They were working the plumbing again, this time putting in some kind of apparatus to….filter the water?

‘That’s fuckin’ weird’' my burgeoning spidey-sense told me. Opening my magesight, the weird clockwork brass orb lit up like a fuckin’ Christmas tree. Either that was a bomb, or something worse.

Just as I had signalled Krix to follow me over to the automaton, the gnomes piloting it started piling out, and as they left the automaton started folding up in impossible ways, 100% magic chicanery. A brief flash of light purple light had me running across the street over to them.

“What the hell were you doing with those pipes?”

Some of the gnomes looked up at me with sneers, before seeing the badge glowing at my waist. Then they parted to reveal an elderly gnome, bald and bearded, with a chest so ripped you could bounce a coin off it. He reminded me of one of those buff grandpas.

“Vat do you vant, Vitch, ve have completed our vork contract and vant to go home to our vives, not somesing you americans vould understand.”

Through the thick germanic accent, I made out that he had called me a witch, which for you uninitiated out there, is basically the magical equivalent of calling me a pussy.

“Listen here, you fucking gremlins, this is Los Angeles, and you can take your cultural pride and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. I can help you out with that, being a Seven. Now listen up, because I’m only going to say this once more. What. Were. You. Cuntmunchers. Doing. At. That. Fucking. Pipe?”

Then I grinned.

I know, strange isn’t it? But we were briefed on most cultures, with optional courses to fully understand them later down the road. Gnomes took their insulting seriously. If you called a gnome something to his face, he would give it back to you tenfold. Similarly, if they insulted you, they weren’t just being cunts, they were testing your mettle, so to speak.

Ol’ Grampa Gnome chuckled a bit.

“Oh ze gremlin vun vas very good, und ze implication of cuntmuncher because ve’re short, vell done. My name iz Adelmo of Clan Gervunst”

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I gave a slight bow. That was important too, always keep a jokey demeanour, because if you seemed serious to them, they would assume you were looking to fight.

“So you fellas actually know what you were up to over there, or were you just sitting around with your thumbs up your asses?”

Adelmo sighed.

“I am sorry officer, zo ve hafe our documentation in order, ze terms of zis contract required uz to hafe no memory of it vunce it vas complete. Here are ze documents, all correct.”

I spluttered before regaining my composure. Surely, that can’t be legal. Having no memory of the work you had just done? Taking the documents and giving them a cursory glance before photographing them and sending the results to the mana phone, I handed them back to the gnome who was looking at the phone curiously.

Krix stepped in.

“Yeh can’t tell us anything that might help?”

The gnome had a look of consternation on his work weathered face, before he smiled and his eyes literally twinkled.

“I do know vun sing zat may be of some help, but as you americans say, quid pro quo, ya? I vould like to take a look at your recording device.”

I smiled. I could speak this guy’s language.

“Well I don’t know Adelmo, this is rather valuable. Tell you what, you tell us what you know, and I’ll consider letting you take a look.

“Tsk, fine, fine, ze contract stated ve vould have no memory of ze vork nor of who hired us, however, it said nussing of ze person who contacted us, ya? Ve picked up a sing or two from our dealings with ze Teufel. It vas a man called Black Skull. Zat iz all I know.”

What the fuck was a Teufel? And more importantly, was this Black Skull the same guy who was responsible for the incident in Australia? Police Work 101: There is no such fucking thing as coincidence.

I handed the manaphone to Adelmo, curious what he would make of it.

“Hrn, ya, rathzer basic manaform’s….. oh, innovative use of ze Weave spell….. Ze interplay iz vell managed…. tell me Magus....?”

“Novice Charles Hennessy”

“Oh Novice? Zis is iz quite good vork for a novice. Hrmm… contact me if you hafe plans to include mechanical functions, ya?”

He handed me back the manaphone, alongside a business card similar to Wiley’s with a mana-signature on it, as well as regular details like a phone number.

“I’ll be sure to. Did your contract say you weren’t allowed to make any guesses as to what you were just doing?”

His smile evolved into a grin.

“Oh ya, I like zis vun. It did not, az a matter of fact.”

He stepped back over to the pipes he had been working on, gesturing us over after a minute.

“From vat I can tell, zis iz vun of ze main vater lines, und vatever vas in zere iz now gone. Vatever ve vere doing, zere iz a high chance it vill involve ze entire cities’ vater mains. Some kind of filtration, perhaps?”

Or poison. But I wasn’t going to speculate in front of a key ‘witness’, that was one of the big no-no’s. After thanking him for his time, we continued along the beat. After telekinetically lowering my third witches’ cat from a tree, I couldn’t hold it any longer and started in on Krix.

“Now Charlie, yeh know the rules, we’re officers man, that level of shit is for the high-ups.”

I glared up at the 7-foot tall blue merfolk, when out of nowhere his frilled head fins expanded.

“Hey Krix, what’s up wi-”

He tackled me to the floor, the sound of gunfire echoing through my ears like a sledgehammer. We had done some firearms training, but with earmuff’s on, but unfiltered gunfire was a whole different ball game.

Why use guns? Apparently it was less taxing for the veil to hide your magic if you weren’t hurling balls of fire everywhere, instead casting Magic Missile, who knew? You know what? No, I’m not going to call them that. Let’s say…. Manabolts.

We were taught to cast manabolts from the inside of the gun’s barrel. It was fairly easy once you got the hang of it. Plus we carried regular guns, because, y’know, guns.

We hunkered down beside the car we had been beside, Krix up in an instant, gun held in perfect form. I glanced where he was aiming and saw a pair of Tuskers. The Tuskers were an Ork biker gang from uptown, and they were infamous for hating police.

Unfortunately for them, they had fucked with the wrong guy. I’ll admit, I was a bit frustrated, but once they’ve used lethal force, we can use it right back. Don’t worry, though I’m not an asshole. Krix and I had a plan. After making sure there were no civilians around, I began.

“Sԋιҽʅԃ”

I walked out into the street, a haze of bullets bouncing off the shield. A hex cracked every now and then, just to be reinforced by the mana fuelling the surrounding ones. You may be thinking to yourself, Charlie, isn’t this a stupid idea, you’ve gotten tactical training from a war veteran, shouldn’t you know better? It would be a stupid idea…. if I were trying to fight them.

As I circled left around the two gunorks, Krix went right, up along the deserted street, and came in behind them. Oh this was going to be fun. As I approached, their clips finally ran out, and they started frantically reloading.

“Hey fellas, you may want to look behind you.”

The ork who had finished reloading first sneered.

“Nice try, Pig.” Then he spat at me. I do not appreciate being spat at. That’s twice in one day. That might drive a guy to annoyance.

“Sʅҽҽρ”

While the first ork was attempting to breathe, the second got clubbed over the back of the head by Krix’s pistol. A few moments later, they were both on the ground.

We handcuffed them, using department issued teflon handcuffs. Orks were fucking strong.

We hauled them back to the station, and were met with a cheer from Nox and the rest of my fellow trainee’s, and their partners.

“Congratulations on your first arrest, Officer Hennessey.” Nox greeted me.

This time, I fucking smirked.

“If you think that’s something, wait ‘til you hear about the plot to infect the city's water supply I uncovered.”

Everyone except Krix and I laughed. Then Nox stopped.

“Wait, seriously?”

Earlier I was wrong, it’s better than heroin and sex combined.

Heading home for the day after writing up the report on the shootout, and the incident with the strange device in the water supply, I was bone tired, and also ecstatic. I was uncovering secret plot’s and stopping gangsters. It felt pretty damn good to be a wizard cop.

Until I entered the house, that is.

Walking up to the front porch, I noticed all the ground floor windows were shattered. Wind howled through the broken windows and I heard a scream.

I ran up to the door and kicked it in. A shiver ran up my spine as I passed through the doorway.

The door opened directly into the living room and kitchen, and there I saw the worst mess I'd ever seen in my life. There was glass and wood everywhere, splinters and shattered fragments caked the floor and walls. 

Blood was spattered across a wall, and two trails led away from the center of the room, one larger than the other.

In one corner, my mother was crumpled on the floor, sobbing, her clothes torn and a gash across her waist. Bruises on her neck and arms told me what had happened, at least part of it.

I slowly started to make fists.

In another corner, my father was covered in scrapes and bruises, a splinter or two of wood sticking out of him. A large piece of glass was stuck in his stomach, and he was on the floor too, clutching his gut in one hand trying to stem the bleeding, and a crossbow in the other.

My fists started to shake from the building pressure.

The crossbow was pointed at the third corner, at my sister. She was completely untouched, red streaks along her cheeks indicating that she had been crying. She cowered, trying to shield herself with her arms.

My palms started to bleed, my nails digging in so hard I was almost crying from the pain.

[Initializing new mental construct, please hold]

[Loading 5thTier.Peace mode.]

[Constructing…]

[C0MM4ND Mode: Engaged]

Time seemed to slow, as I was gazing around the room. Finally, I took a deep breath.

“STOP.”