----------------------------------------
I run and run and run through this dark forest; a simple house can be seen in the distance.
It was hell even before it started; me and Tina had arrived minutes after the call was made. I heard Tina's words in my ears, echoing in my head as if it were an empty church.
"It's best if we wait." Her gentle hands holding my arms felt like cold chains, freezing me in place. "Backup will be here soon," I remember the screams.
Some bandits had come from another city, a car full of cash and guns, a family taken hostage, a mother screaming for the safety of her children, her cries piercing my brain and making me nauseated.
A shot rings.
A bullet shell falls on the old wooden floor of the house. The father, who had just arrived, had sneaked into the house when I looked away for a moment. A quick second was all it took for the tragedy.
I remember the mother and daughter's screams and desperate cries as the body of the father hit the floor; he was dead, a bullet hole in the center of his skull, his eyes devoid of life, the feeling of the cold iron in my hand as I had drawn my gun by instinct.
The gun in my hands went off, the bullet hitting the robber in the chest before my fingers started to tremble, more and more shots hitting their chest till he was nothing more.
That night I had killed two people—I should have kept my eyes open; I should have done so much more—Detective Reele said it wasn't my fault, and Tina said she was just as guilty as me.
But in a month, everyone had forgotten about the incident; the mayor swiped it all under the rug—everyone but me. I'm the one who will have to carry this weight forever within my soul.
The figure of the father starts to chase me in the dark forest, determined to make me suffer, to make me pay. My legs hurt, I can't run anymore, I don't want to.
I fall to the ground, waiting for my punishment. Black liquid starts to hug my frail body and pull me under the corrupted soil, the place I deserve to be.
Wait, I don't want to die; the thought comes too late.
I can't breathe, I CAN'T BREAT-
Screaming I almost jump away from the soft material I'm lying on top, sweat running down my forehead and falling to my eyes, making it sting slightly.
I hug myself, afraid that if I don't, my dreams will come to haunt me again.
Looking around, my eyes try to find the familiar cream walls of my apartment to calm me down, but when I search for them, I see an unfamiliar interior made of dark wood, and a dark carpet around the bed, all reminding me of those super old houses I once saw when looking for an apartment to rent.
Some memories start to get back to me: the hotel, a masked man, a knife. Remembering about the latter, I immediately lift up my shirt, seeing a scar crossing the middle of my chest—a perfectly stitched line, indicating that it impaled me. A relieved sigh at the fact that I'm somehow alive escapes me before I start making some effort to stand up, feeling a sharp pain in my ribs.
When the soles of my feet hit the silky carpet, I find my boots and a clean jacket resting near the legs of the bed. The room gives me a strange impression—beautiful and yet somewhat artificial.
Putting on the boots, I get out of bed and walk to a door on the far side. Reaching it, I stop as I hear voices coming from outside. My hands slowly move the handle, and the door opens.
A large hallway with eight doors appears in my view, all of them that are on the left side having a sign hanging on them, each sign with a name written on it—familiar names—the exception being the one I got out of; the sign reads 'vacant'.
At the end of the long hall is what looks to be a living room. The low sound of a fireplace calms me down, and as I find myself drawn to it, the voices in the living room finally become loud enough that I can hear them.
"No, that's out of the question." Colette's voice echoes down the hallway, but something feels different; she sounds less rough. "Besides, she's just a human; we can't have her slowing us down."
Dalia hits the palm of her hand on the coffee table. "The scrappers know her face now; if we stay put, they'll..."
"It's not our problem."
Dalia's nails can be heard scratching the wood top part of the table. "How can you say that after what she did for you, you know how many people would take a knife to the chest for someone else?"
Colette clicks her tongue. "She had protection; the knife didn't eve-"
"SHE'S HUMAN! Do you know how many humans would survive that?" Dalia looks at Colette's face. After seeing the leader bite her own lips and the painful face she's making, Dalia lowers her voice, softening her tone. "The detective isn't our enemy."
As silence stretches in between them, a third voice seems to cut the tension. "JB is arriving; who's gonna wake the human?" The third figure in the room, Yui, rests their feet on the table while playing on their phone. Realizing it's best to stop eavesdropping, I take a step forward.
At the sound of my footsteps, all heads turn to me, all but Yui's. Dalia gets up from the sofa and looks at me with an awkward smile.
"Detective, it's good to see you awake. I hope our conversation didn't wake you up."
"She heard everything." Yui's voice comes like an arrow. So they knew... fuck.
Looking at Yui with curiosity, they return my stare with a serious expression before looking me up and down, licking their sharp fangs slowly.
wait, Fangs?
Dalia grabs a newspaper from the table and hits Yui's head, giving me a small smile. "Ignore them; they have a bad habit of flirting with everything that moves."
"It's not a bad habit if I get what I want in the end." Yui shrugs before focusing their attention back on their phone.
Getting around the coffee table, I take a seat on the chair far from the agents. I take a look at Colette; almost as if sensing my stare, she looks away from me.
Dalia slides a mug with coffee in my direction, and I gladly accept it and take a long sip, letting the warmth of the liquid wash down my throat.
"So... I guess that wasn't a dream after all." My words seem to grab Colette's attention.
"You don't look so surprised."
I let out a weak laugh before looking down at the mug in my hands. "It's not like that; I am surprised and a little scared." I put the mug back on the table. "I just don't have the energy to make a big deal out of it."
"That's good detective," Dalia's gentle smile reaches my vision. "We were afraid of how you could have taken the situation, so it's a relief to see you doing well."
Yui laughs. "Yeah, last time a human learned about us, they got so crazy that they stabbed their own eyes."
"YUI!" Both Colette and Dalia scream in unison, earning a smug from Yui.
"Sheesh, just saying that it's good to see that the detective didn't get crazy."
I clear my throat to grab their attention. "So, can someone explain things to me?" I look at Dalia.
"Of course, Detective," Dalia says, taking a deep breath before her expression becomes a little more serious. "There are mainly two things you should know. Firstly, the people you saw at the hotel are called Scrappers; they are a cult of humans that likes to kidnap and sell supernaturals to the black market."
I raise an eyebrow. "Humans? But didn't the masked one use some sort of 'magic'?"
Dalia nods her head. "Yes, the sigil you saw is indeed a type of magic, but the person who used it is not human, at least not completely."
"How so?"
"They seem to be a descendant of a witch, and as with all supernaturals, there are various types of witches, like me, for example." She grabs a coin from her phone case and drops it on the table.
After muttering some words, the coin flips to life and starts to produce electricity, making my eyes widen in surprise, and a little smile appears on my lips. "I'm an elemental." Dalia smiles as she looks at my expression.
Colette continues the talk. "Secondly, our agency is a secret organization meant to protect the supernatural and make sure that you humans don't learn about us, even if some of us choose to live among your people."
Looking down at my mug again, my mind starts to swirl about the existence of supernaturals and the danger that knowing this brings. I let out a heavy sigh and let my gaze lose itself in the coffee waves inside the mug.
In my silence, the door to this place opens, and a familiar figure emerges from it. "My puppies are all up. Good." JB steps inside the room. "Did someone already explain things to our guest?"
"Yes, ma'am," Colette responds like a soldier.
"Perfect, because now the detective will be a part of Unit 0."
Everyone seems to stay silent after that: Yui with a smug on their face, Dalia with a gentle smile, and Colette with an expressionless face.
"I guess it's better than her execution," Colette states.
"... Wait, WHAT?"
Yui laughs. "You know too much now, so either the higher-ups would make you a part of our team or wipe you off history's face, and this is the first time they chose the less bloody one."
I look around at the others, and to my surprise, no one softens the blow. So that's the rough truth.
"You'll be working with us now, Olivia." JB puts her hands on my shoulders, her voice suddenly sounding motherly, carrying a deep feeling of care. "But the agency requested that you keep your work on the station." JB hugs me and makes the back of my head rest on her cleavage.
The thought of protesting against her hug melts away as my eyes feel heavy, but thanks to the coffee, I manage to not sleep. "Now, you'll keep resting here for today to heal your wounds; the rest will come with me to investigate more at the hotel."
With those words, all the agents get up from the sofa and start to follow JB out of the room.
Dalia gently smiles at me. "Rest well, detective; we will be back soon."
Colette doesn't even look at my face before disappearing into JB's shadow.
Yui winks at me. "Try not to go crazy." They let out a loud laugh. "And stay away from the knives in the kitc-"
"Ahhh," Dalia grabs Yui's ear and drags her out of the room; the only sounds remaining are the echoes of Yui's pain as the door closes.
I let out a heavy sigh. With them leaving, I'm left all alone in this strange house... Great, just what I needed.
I don't know how much time has passed; I guess it has been probably an hour since they left. I'm lazily sitting on the large cigar-brown sofa, eyes glued to the ceiling as my legs bounce around. My feet hitting the carpet create a muffled rhythm, leaving me more uneasy.
A heavy sigh leaves my body before I push myself to my feet. Looking around the living room, I start really studying the design choice. Everything seems to have a darker color, composed of black, brown, and gray furniture.
On top of the large fireplace, there's a big painting of a flowery field. The wood framing of the painting has a mixture of vines and moss growing at its side, and some daisies are growing out from inside the frame. I was never one to really understand art, but this painting makes me feel something I can't describe. My chest is aching, but I can't tell if it's for a good or bad reason.
After looking at the painting for a minute or so, the feeling only grows on my chest, leaving me anxious, so I look away and start to walk back to the corridor where the room I woke from is. The nameless doors on the right part caught my attention.
I walk to the nearest one and carefully turn the handle. A smell of old wood and distilled dust hangs in the air around me as I step inside; the tall and almost impossibly long maze made of bookshelves makes me let out the air from my lungs; and an unconscious laugh leaves me at the paradoxical sight before me.
Quickly leaving the room and closing the door, I rest my back against it; my head is already hurting. Raising my hands to my chest to check on my heartbeat, I feel them trembling. My head right now is a sea of information that my mind can't process at once, making it accumulate and weigh on my mind.
Walking back to the sofa, I grab the mug of coffee that now rests at room temperature and bring it to my lips. The familiar taste relieves some of the pressure.
"How is all of this possible?" I rub my eyes and sit down on the comfortable couch.
Supernatural beings, magic, impossible rooms—what should I make of it? I think I should be happy, as most people would in this situation, or they would feel terrified at the prospect of the knowledge of it alone putting the people close to them in danger.
But I feel nothing besides my usual tiredness and the heavy headache, but maybe this is good; getting desperate would only make things more difficult.
How can things change so much in a single day? This town where nothing happens now has a threat that is bigger than it can deal with, so maybe I should be grateful that this agency seeks to help, but I can't bring myself to it.
I don't even know these people, and yet...
Putting down the mug, I rest one hand on my chest, in the very same place where the knife hit me—the same knife that was not meant for me and yet dug deep inside my skin, opening it up for all to see.
My eyes close without me noticing, and so I rest.
Time: Unkown.
----------------------------------------
The creaking sound of someone sitting at the other end of the sofa wakes me from my dreamless nap, my unfocused and drowsy eyes fixed on the figure. After some seconds of silence, my eyes adjust themselves, and so I squint them to see the figure's face, Colette, her gray eyes seemingly studying me. If it weren't for her harsh expression, I would assume she's worried.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Letting out a quiet yawn, I sit up. The feeling of the stitches pulling my skin together serves as a warning to not push my luck so far, and yet something still bugs me. Getting my phone out of my pocket, I check the date; the hotel incident was on the sixth of February, and today is the seventh, meaning I've been asleep for only a day.
But the wound does not feel fresh, the pain is less than I expected, and I'm pretty sure luck isn't a good enough excuse at this point.
"How?" Even if I don't want to bother Colette, my curiosity is greater.
"How what?" Colette's voice comes as a surprise; it's not that I wasn't expecting her to answer, but rather that I wasn't expecting her tone to be calm, instead of passing the vibe that she's talking with a parasite of sorts instead of a human being.
Pushing away my surprise. "How am I alive? I'm pretty sure I should be in bed dying of pain, but I almost don't feel any." I raise my hand to my chest, touching my shirt and feeling the stitches beneath it.
"Dalia's magic prevented you from bleeding to death," Colette said, crossing her legs and arms. "And then you were brought here to the agency to be taken care of by a doctor."
I nod my head, a small smile playing on my lips. "Thank you."
Colette shakes her head and furrows her eyebrows. "I literally did nothing to deserve your gratitude."
...
Silence stretches between us, but before I can try to break the awkwardness in the air, she speaks. "As you asked me something, I'll do the same."
"Oh, sure, ask away."
The seriousness on her face seems only to deepen—something I thought impossible. She gets up from the sofa and walks up to me, looking me down, just like when we met in my office. The only difference is that now her eyes have a glowing yellow light to them, stealing all the grayness they once had.
She opens her mouth, and I watch as her teeth sharpen. Different from Yui's fangs, all of Colette's teeth are sharp, the low red light the fireplace emits reflects on them. I don't retreat from her; instead, I choose to lock my eyes on hers and steel myself for whatever comes.
"Why did you put yourself in danger for me? Someone who only antagonized you, someone who you don't even know." Her voice is like a growl, her face looks like a beast's, her right hand falls to my shoulder, and her sharp nails stand dangerously close to my neck. "**Tell me your true intentions**."
I feel her hot breath mingle with mine; my instincts tell me to run, to scream, to fight. My serious expression darkens slightly as I take a deep breath.
"Because that's what I wanted to do," I say, giving her an apologetic smile. "I know it sounds selfish, but that's who I am."
She stares at me, no words spoken; the silence hangs heavy in the air; her eyes wander around my face, tracing for anything that can resemble the face of a liar, but she doesn't find it; after all, I only lie when needed, and I don't feel the need now.
I watch as she lets out a heavy sigh, her eyes losing their yellow glow and her nails and teeth shrinking back to normal. But she does not get away from me; she stays in the same place, still looking.
The moment she steps away, the heavy air dissipates and becomes bearable again. Colette sits on the sofa, but this time not away from me, but not at my side either. Her shoulders seem lighter somehow; I guess I placed a heavy weight on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry." The words escape me naturally—something I'm too used saying.
Colette shakes her head. "There's no reason to apologize."
"That reminds me, JB authorized you to work tomorrow." She grabs an access card and drops it on the coffee table. "I'll be in the training room; Dalia and Yui will be back in a few hours, so rest till then."
Colette stands up, and I do the same. "Wait," I say, taking off my hoodie and resting it near the card on the table. "Let me go with you."
"No, you're not in the condition to." Colette shakes her head, crossing her arms tightly on her chest.
Shaking my head back, I speak. "Look, I'm fine, but if I stay alone with my thoughts for more time, I'll go crazy."
Colette's eyes squint. She opens her mouth to talk back but stops herself. Her eyes travel down to my arms, studying my muscles, or rather, the lack of them. "As you'll be working with us now, you'll need to be in shape, so I guess it's best if we work on that sooner than later."
I follow Colette down the hallway. The woman opens the door at the far end of the corridor and walks in.
My steps echo and merge with Colette's; the extensive gym-like room stands proudly in front of us.
Climbing walls and ropes, a large boxing cage in the middle, a considerable amount of various types of training dummies, and a shooting range. At this point, I stopped questioning myself about how impossible the rooms in this place look, choosing rather to just accept it to spare my mind the headache.
The low orange lights in the ceiling come to life as Colette hits a button on the wall, the bulbs becoming bright white and illuminating the whole room.
Colette gestures with her head for me to follow, and I promptly do. The woman enters the cage and throws me a pair of boxing gloves that were resting on the floor.
I watch as she rests in her mouth a scrunchie and starts to tie up her hair; the features of her face are now easier to see, and a scar below her right eye is now evident. "We will do a training course."
"First, I'll test your fighting skills; next, your stamina." She looks at the climbing rocky wall and, seconds later, falls to the range. "And then we will finish the session on the shooting range."
I nod my head. "Yes, ma'am."
The seriousness in my tone matches hers from earlier with JB; her expression becomes unreadable as she puts on her gloves.
Taking off my boots, I enter the cage, my eyes locking on Colette's. Even if I don't have that much in terms of fighting skills, the police training course taught me a lot about using my opponent's strength against themselves; that's my only hope to win here.
Taking a step forward, I raise my gloved hand to her so we can touch them to start, and Collete does the same. The instant our gloves touch, I take a step back, and in the blink of an eye, the woman disappears from my sight.
Looking down, I see that she ducked down and rushed me. To my surprise, I'm not quick enough to react.
Her hands reach my stomach, a quick and yet powerful punch hits me. Adrenaline shoots up my system as I do my best to stand up, which soon becomes obvious to be an almost impossible task.
"Not even going to let me land the first punch?" My laugh comes as painful as my grin; the gloves I'm using are pressed tightly on the part where she punched me.
Colette shakes her head and sighs. "Don't expect me to go easy on you, or this training would be for nothing."
What type of logic is that? I'm starting to realize I fucked up big time to accept to do this.
While I'm deeply regretting my choices in life, the woman moves again. Instinctively, I raise my hands to block her punch, but in my rushed action, my torso becomes open for her to hit. In my face, surprise rises as she makes the same move again. Or am I surprised?
A grin crawls on my lips before my hands part from the blocking position. Rotating my body, my left foot rises in a spinning motion, ready to hit her face.
but my foot's movement is interrupted mid-way, as Colette, just like a spider, wraps herself around my leg, bringing me down to the floor, the air leaving my lungs before the back of her feet rises high up, bringing my arms to my face. She uses the moment to change her position, putting me on my stomach and holding my arms behind my back.
Oh, she really isn't holding up. My arms hurt. I try tapping her with my fingers, but it doesn't have any effect, and so with a desperate cry, I talk.
"Okay, I'm done; you win."
With that, my arms are released, and a heavy sigh escapes me as I stay slumped on the cage's padded canvas floor.
Colette takes off her gloves and drops them on the floor. "We will need to work on your fighting skills."
Turning around to face her, I sit up with a defeated face, only nodding my head at her remark.
"Come on, you'll have your time to rest after the next exercise." With those words, the woman gets off the ring, and without any other options, I follow her. We stop at the climbing wall—a tall, rocky maze going up. I feel like the wall is staring at me, mocking me already.
After some seconds of staring at the wall, Colette puts her hand on my shoulder, but as I start thinking that she's going to comfort me, she pushes me in the direction of the wall.
"Go on, we don't have all day." Should have figured, she sounds and acts just like a military commander.
With a shake of my head to drive my thoughts away, I take the last step forward to meet the wall, my hands holding the colored stones glued to it. And with that, I start to climb, going slow at first, trying to find the right edges and path for me. Once my eyes find the best path, I start to really climb the wall, my speed even impressing myself.
But I guess the nights at the orphanage that I climbed out and onto the roof paid off somehow. After reaching the top, I grab the rope near me and slide down, stopping right next to Colette.
The woman stops the counter on her phone and nods her head, her face still expressionless but now a little softer somehow.
"Good, you scored third." Colette shows me her phone; a score faces me; the first and second places are Colette's and Yui's, respectively. In the third place, my name stares down at me, and the fourth has Dalia's name and time, thirty minutes...
"Thirty minutes!" I exclaim in surprise. How can someone take so much time to climb this wall? I didn't even take five.
Colette puts her phone back in her pocket. "Dalia has no physical strength; that's why she relies so much on her magic."
I guess that makes sense, but it is still kind of sad to see it. Colette walks off to a minibar and grabs a water bottle from it before going back to me. "Drink and rest; you have five minutes." She hands me the water and gestures for me to sit down, and I grab the chance to rest without complaining. "I'll be in the range waiting."
She walks off to the range. Opening the bottle, I start drinking the cool liquid, letting out a low groan as the adrenaline leaves my body, letting me feel the aftereffects of the exercises fully.
I don't really get that woman; I feel like she doesn't hate me, but still, it's like she only tolerates me because I'm 'part of the team' now. Maybe I'm reading too deeply into something I can only speculate on; I'll have to gather more evidence to start indulging in these thoughts again.
There's a clock on the wall; checking it, I see my five minutes are probably up, so I raise to my feet and start walking to the range.
A gun rests on a table, all the parts lying on the table with no shame, the insides and outs of the gun parts in full display.
"Assemble the pistol and hit the five targets in under a minute." Colette's orders come loud and clear; instead of getting nervous, I steady my mind. After all, I know a lot about guns. There's no reason to be afraid of messing up with this; a steady breath and a calm mind will do the job just fine.
Watching me prepare, Colette raises an eyebrow before crossing her arms and focusing fully on me, almost expectingly. With one last breath, I grab the gun parts on the table, and Colette starts the timer, grabbing the barrel first and sliding the recoil spring inside, combining it with the slide before grabbing the frame and fixing it all together.
It's my luck she didn't disassemble every little piece of it, only the big ones, so it made everything much easier. When the gun is ready in my hand, I recognize it; it's my pistol. A smile crawls on my lips to be reunited with my old buddy before I load the mag inside it. My eyes focus on the targets, and I swiftly shoot all five targets in record time.
I can't tell much of Colette's expression, but I recognize when someone is hiding a smile from afar, thanks to Verda. Her hands stop the timer, and so she shows me her phone again.
This time only two names stand on the screen, me and hers, me in first place only by one second. "Good job; we will give priority to your fighting training." The woman starts to write on her phone. "Go rest; I'll prepare a training schedule for you, and we will start it tomorrow."
The smile on her face goes away, but so goes the emptiness on her face. I can see she really seems to like this. I watch as the woman sits on a bench and focuses on her work.
I walk to the door, and before leaving, I look at Colette one last time. "Thank you." The words leave me just like earlier, but this time they carry more meaning. The woman's ear twitches before her head turns to look at me, but before she can, I leave the room.
A yawn escapes me; I didn't even realize how much time had passed. Somehow everything feels less hard to understand and deal with; at least that's what I think, as the pressure on my head from earlier is gone now.
Resting my fingers near my chest, I feel the wound healing slowly. There's still pain in it, but I'm kind of proud of this one. After all, I did good; I managed to save someone. Even if I'm starting to think she would be fine without my help, at least I spared her the pain.
Opening the vacant room, I walk to the bed and fall flat on top of the cozy pillows and cover, my eyes closing slowly. 'Maybe this isn't so bad.' That's the last thing I think before sleep takes me away.
----------------------------------------