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World of Darkness: Helsong
Chapter 2: Cry me a river

Chapter 2: Cry me a river

"OK, I'll be right down," Daisy said. She tucks her phone in her side pocket and makes to leave the apartment. She stops on her tracks and quickly jogs back to her bedroom. There she grabs the case files on her bed and the carton of cigarettes on her work table. She tucks the packet in her pants pocket, a slight distortion in the air trails its motion.

She rushes to the elevator and makes for the ground floor. She exits the building just as Rick is coming to a stop on front of her building. He reaches over to the passenger side door and opens it for her.

"Is it time to fuck?" Rick asked. "Though, I don't see how that would help our situation."

"Shut up, dick," Daisy retorts; she hops onto her seat and shuts the car door. "I was caught off guard."

"You know you want me," Rick teased. He started forward again and made for the Alton police department. VASCU Illinois' main operations were situated at the FBI field office in Chicago, but in order to apprehend the south-bound slasher before they could escape the state through the Missouri River, the two agents were deployed to Alton.

Daisy brings out the case files and begins looking through it. "It just doesn't make sense," Daisy said. "Every murder after he left Jacksonville didn't have his signature, just common stabbings that the media doesn't care about. Why now?"

"Maybe he knows we're closing in on him," Rick said. "It's not uncommon for freaks to develop tracking abilities."

Every slasher was unique, each one having their own killing styles and various other idiosyncrasies. VASCU operatives, however, noticed certain similarities in how some slashers operated and discovered five distinct types. The classifications bore their own titles: freak, brute, charmer, avenger, and genius.

"How are you so sure we're dealing with a freak?" asked Daisy.

Rick reaches over and grabs the corner of a single sheet in the files, marked with a blue piece of tape for distinction. The sheet was a map detailing the Jacksonville killer's movement, a series of red dot stickers litter one portion of Illinois, but a broken line of dots go southward. This is a miniature version of the one hanging on Daisy's wall.

"There, look," Rick said, while tapping on the cluster of red. "That's establishment of territory."

"Freaks never leave their territory!" Daisy interjected. She held up the map to Rick's face and pointed at the dots that trailed off from the cluster. "The face carving shows signs of narcissist tendencies, that could be attributed to charmers."

"Narcissism is also prevalent in freaks," Rick said. He tried to focus on the road despite the Daisy's efforts to mush the map onto his face. "Could you cut it out Zee! I'm driving."

Daisy returns the map to the proper folder and organizes the papers. The drive turns quiet for a while. Rick would occasionally give Daisy cursory glances, to find her scouring incident reports. He gave the sight a small smile, out of Daisy's view. Daisy was always passionate with the work they do, but that passion would often turn discussions into yelling matches. Rick found out a long time ago that if he just waited, she'd eventually turn her attention to the case and all that fiery hot headedness would make her laser focused on the nearest piece of evidence. She was by far the best investigator in the Chicago branch, so Rick thought that if anyone would find this bastard, it would be her.

"Every time we get close, he seems to slip right through our fingers. Maybe he's a genius," Daisy said, barely able to keep the excitement from her voice.

"Oh please not this again," Rick said. The moment he develops any confidence in his partner, she goes and says something like that.

"What do you mean 'this again!'" Daisy said indignantly. Ironically if there was anything that could inhibit her amazing potential, it was her misguided ambition.

"You always do this Zee. If the perp seems to have any kind of upper hand, you immediately assume that they're a genius. As if only a genius could outsmart you."

Daisy is taken aback by this. Her eyes drew down and she bites the corner of her lip. "I never said that. Brutes, charmers and freaks are a dime a dozen. When you catch a genius, that makes you a cut above."

"So, what, you're going to bring in a genius for validation? To be recognized as the best?" Rick asked.

"Don't put words in my mouth Rick," she said. "I just know that if I ever do, it'll send my career skyrocketing."

"I'm just having a hard time trying to envision what you want to achieve. I mean, I get wanting to move up the ladder, but you already have good momentum. Asking for more is knocking on death's door." At the last turn, the precinct rolls into view. After showing the gate attendant ID, they cruise along the lot looking for a space. They manage to spot one relatively close to the building, so Rick begins maneuvering towards the spot.

"We're green so they send us out to catch the easy pickings. Our only chance of getting the good cases is if we stumble upon them. We need the good cases. They'll help bump us up to the big name, high profile cases, and then we can actually start doing some real work.

"Sorry, but that's just insane Zee," Rick said. After successfully parking the vehicle he turns to Daisy and continues his tirade. "There's a reason they give us the 'Hobo Joes' and 'Clubhouse killers'. They want us to survive long enough to actually be ready for the real dangerous crap. The way you're talking, it's almost like you would've wanted to join Task Force Valkyrie. Those guys deal with things we're not even allowed to know about. They have to turn themselves into literal cyborgs to stand a chance against what's out there."

"I wouldn't say no to joining Valkyrie," Daisy said. The retort provoked a raised brow from Rick. "What? There's worse things out there than the shit we have to deal with. Do you ever think about that?"

"I try not to," Rick admitted.

"Well regardless of whether you care to think about it or not, they're out there, and people are getting killed or turned into more of them. Whether it's human or some kind of monster that could rip you to shreds with its bare hands, someone's got to take a stand even against that."

Daisy meets Rick's gaze with unwavering steel. She does, however, notice the slight trembling of his hands as he was still gripping the wheel. She levels her eyes back at Rick's, but this time with more softness.

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"It's too much," Rick said, breaking away from Daisy's stare. "All this dark shit we have to deal with; I feel like I'm losing my mind. If I haven't lost it already."

Rick reaches for the glove compartment, but Daisy catches his hand and holds it between hers. "You haven't lost your mind, Rick. You're the best partner I've ever had and one hell of an interrogator."

Between her palms, he feels his hand slowly still. He gives her a sheepish grin and reaches the back of his neck with his free hand. "I'm the only partner you've ever had," Rick replied.

Daisy let's go of his hand and let's her own fall to her lap. She returns his grin with a small smile.

"Well," Rick said. "Let's go get chewed out by an angry lady in a monitor."

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The Vanguard Serial Crimes Unit only had offices in FBI Divisions located in major metropolitan areas of the U.S., so when sending agents out to apprehend suspects, an arrangement is usually made with the local law enforcement, or hunter group. "Hunter" was the term used for individuals who pursued supernatural creatures of any form. Most of the time, these groups act independently of the government, but efforts are being made to either shut them down, or integrate them into a supervised workforce.

VASCU itself could be described as a hunter organization. In this case, agents Richard Fuller and Daisy McCarthy were sent to cooperate with the Alton Police Department with the apprehension of Jeffrey Woods, suspected murderer under the alias "Jacksonville Killer."

In the FBI's long history, encounters with the supernatural may not have been as rare as some would think. With the refinement of their practices, the bureau began noticing severe abnormalities in their suspects. Though some of their research displayed traits from already known creatures of the night, those specimens were transferred to clandestine organizations that held higher yet peculiar jurisdictions; yet some bore no difference from regular human DNA, except for their peculiar aptitude for murder.

These individuals, classified as "slashers", were so fine tuned to killing that they were put in a class of their own. Thusly, VASCU was born. Using highly refined profiling methods, and Dr. Wintergreen's psychic enhancement process, FBI agents with the potential for Teleinformatics are trained and sent out to apprehend America's most dangerous killers.

Being a yet newly formed division, most VASCU agents were new hires. With this being the case, most offices are headed by a senior in the FBI to act as supervisor, with some having been retired agents brought back in for the express purpose of guiding the new recruits. One such supervisor is right now, giving our two agents a good scolding.

"Agent McCarthy, on your last report did you not state that after leaving Jacksonville, Mr. Woods had since opted not to mutilate his victims faces as per his signature?" asked Rita Durnam. The supervising special agent was projected onto the wall of a borrowed conference room. The image showed her sitting behind the desk in her office. A webcam set on top of a desk captured the apprehensive expressions of the two agents and relayed it to her own screen.

"Yes ma'am," Daisy replied. "We had believed this to be the case after we acquired Mr. Woods' favored implement, his carving knife, at the scene of his last murder in Jacksonville."

"Where you had him cornered and he got away," Rita said. The senior agent had never been known to give reprieve to any of her juniors shortcomings, but her tenure within VASCU only made her more severe.

"That is accurate, yeah," Daisy said. She takes a nervous glance at Rick, who was sitting across from her on the conference table. Despite how nervous she knew he was his stony gaze projected none of that. She quickly darts her eyes back to their supervisor.

"And now the media is all over this case. You were incorrect in your analysis. Our killer is is going to be carving up more faces Alton, or so the reports say."

"I believe this incident was merely an outlier," Rick said, speaking up." -and I can attest to why that's the case. To be frank, we are under the assumption that the killer has a tracking ability. That's why even with Daisy's skills we were still unable to apprehend him. We think that because he can feel us drawing close, he decided to reveal himself and attempt to shake us in the ensuing panic."

Daisy was impressed with Rick, but Rita remained nonplussed. "I see," Rita said.. "This does change things. I will be moving the case to a higher priority and have VASCU deploy the Special Ops agents. You two have done well. Return to Chicago for your next assignment and we'll-"

"Excuse me, but you can't do that," Daisy said. She was belligerent, and both Rick and Rita were caught surprised by the audacity of the interruption.

"I assure you agent, you have no control over what I can and cannot do," Rita said after regaining her composure. "A slasher with perfect tracking is way above your abilities. You haven't even provided a classification report."

"We know he's a freak," Daisy said. She draws the map from her folder and spreads it out for the webcam. She gestures to the cluster of dots. "He was establishing territory. We just got a bit confused because he left, but this along with having a tracking ability and how we discovered that his first three victims allegedly poured acid on his face, disfiguring him. We've been tracking this guy for weeks and we know how he operates. Let us finish this case, supervisor."

Both women were locked on to their respective webcams, while Rick was in the sidelines, his stony demeanor broken and his nervousness coming out in his fidgety hands. A beat passed before their supervisor gave her verdict.

" You are not ready to take him down," Rita said. You will be back in Chicago by noon tomorrow with your full report on the investigation. Do I make myself clear agent McCarthy?"

"Crystal," Daisy said, after another beat of silence.

"Good," Rita said. " You know, you should be thanking me. Dying on this case won't get you better cases. Safe returns agents. Signing off." The call ended and Rick and Daisy were left in silence.

Rick was the first to get up. He stretched and walked over to the door. "That could have seriously gone worse for us. Cheer up Zee, there's always next time." He opens the door and invited her to walk out with him after seeing she was still seated.

Daisy reluctantly follows him out. On the way out to the lot, they spot a mob of journalists trying to get information out of the officers present, but the officers merely tried to escort them back out. Luckily for Daisy and Rick, their involvement was undisclosed to the public and didn't have any observable paraphernalia. They could easily pass of as civilian and walk out of the station without a hitch. Before they could leave, however, they were stopped by one of the officers. The officer requested their help on the interrogation of a particularly difficult suspect. In their stay, they somehow developed a reputation for getting the perps to talk. Rick volunteered to assist and Daisy opted to stay to collect the materials they had left in their borrowed area. She would leave first and try to get a head start on packing for the trip back.

After her commute home, Daisy was feeling more than a little dejected. She rides up the elevator and makes her way to her apartment. On the way she notices something amiss. As she nears her apartment she notices that her door was ajar. She quickly snatches a cigarette from her pocket and places it in her mouth. She lights the cigarette while at the same time reaches for her gun. At her exhale a purple smoke comes out of her nostrils. She forces the image of a white rabbit hiding in the snow into her mind. The smoke envelops her and she can feel the magic tingling against her skin.

She pushes on the door with her shoulder as she cocks her pistol. The apartment was in tatters. Only her kitchen light was on, but it was enough illumination to show her the sorry state of her residence. Holes were cut onto her sofa; drawers were pulled all the way out and littered the floor, with their contents strewn about; cabinets were open, with some having their doors ripped from their hinges. She slowly walks through the wreckage with her gun drawn at eye level and ready to fire. She makes her way to her bedroom. When she gets there she kicks the door open and scans the room. The sight that greeted her was much the same as it was outside. The intruder barely touched her magic implements, but anything pertaining to the case was gone; her work desk lay bare.

After securing that the intruder was no longer present, Daisy allowed the smoke to dissipate. Maintaining any spell for long was always taxing. She gets out her phone and immediately calls Rick. By the third ring he picks up.

"Daisy are you ok?" Rick asked.

"Never mind that, where are you right now?"

"I'm at my apartment." Rick said. Daisy's heart skips a beat. "It's been ransacked. I'm with the cops. I came with after my neighbor reported a disturbance. Daisy, he has the knife."