I groan when I receive an emergency report. I am just about to go home. It’s probably two mafias heading it out.
I hate dragging myself into long standing feuds.
The woman cries that it is an emergency. Protocol demands that we have to at least visit the crime scene before we can deem it unimportant.
I pick up my coat and wear it. It is going to be a long night.
I get into my car and turn on the engine. I switch on some blues and move to the rhythm. When I arrive, the preccinct officers are already littered around the whole place.
I step out of my car and lock it. I lift the restrictive tape and walk into the scene.
There are bodies everywhere. It’s something I’m used to, but something about these killings are different. Some are cut by the precision of a double- edged sword.
The other victims have weird and unidentical cuts and slashes. Something must have done that.
I am informed that the culprit came in through the barbed wire fence. There are no holes in it. How did they even get over it? The fence is over eight feet tall.
There is no other logical explanation. They had to have jumped. No normal human being could achieve such a daring deet.
Tire tracks had been found among the bushes. It was not a van neither was it a convoy of vehicles. It is only one car. That would mean that it was not an attack by another mafia.
What kind of little group is able to assasinate such a large band of hitmen?
I see the sword injury again.
"Only assasins still use swords." I mumble to myself.
Not just any assasin, a top tier one.
I examine the rough cuts closely. No known weapon could have made those.
There are even some bodies with holes sticking out through them. Holes the size of a tennis ball. I can see all the way through their bodies.
Not even a rifle shoots that neatly.
This case is very different from all the others.
I follow the leading officers into the house. In it, we find the woman who had called for our help, lying in a pool of her own blood. There is a huge hole through her chest.
Following the broken glass everywhere and the glass shards in her skin, I can tell that the attack came in through the window.
How did something reach from the ground and stab the woman with such precision?
I blink hard as I stare.
A forenzist brings me her smashed up phone in an evidence bag.
I take it from him and look at it. The phone would normally be a bit cracked from the impact from the window, but the phone’s screen is smashed up.
’Take it to the lab for analysis". I say and continue my examination. As a black shadow, I am trained to track people’s scent.They, however, have no scent at all.
Only assasins know how to disguise their scent.
The case is getting more interesting by the hour.
The old woman has a very terrified look in her eyes. Like she saw something terrifying before she got hit.
I look around the room. It has wide windows. Why was she in this room instead of somewhere more hidden and concealed? She had been with her phone by the window, had she been filming? Is that why her phone had been smashed?
A light drizzle starts. Inspector Poll arrives. I go out to meet him.
He seems as stunned as I am at the number of dead bodies filling the perimeter.
"What is the report?" He asks.
"We don’t have one yet. This particular case is a puzzle. We would need to put our heads together to come out with a report". I say.
"This is the first time I’ve ever heard you ask for help, Inspector." He quips.
I smile and turn to the business at hand.
We walk through the yard while discussing the probable weapons and cause of death of the dead hit men.
Suddenly, one of them grabs my ankle. I jerk my leg away in shock. Its grip is so firm.
It starts rising to its feet. I pull out my gun but don’t shoot it.
I hate the prospect of having to use a gun. I was trained to hate guns since I was little. It lunges at me. Poll saves me the stress of having to shoot it. Even when it falls to the ground, it is still moving.
I start backing away. Another one rises behind us and we start running away. As I approach the cluster of officers. Everything stops. Poll and I exchange glances.
Things are getting super weird. Were we hallucinating or did any of that really happen? Read full story at noⅴelfire.net
A lower rank officer runs towards us with a phone in his hand. He is showing us a video. The feed is dark and unclear but I can make out people fighting. It takes me a moment before I realize that it is a video of the very place I am standing in.
I had been right all along. Donna Garcia had filmed something.
I snatch the phone from him to get a better look. Poll pokes his head in to see.
All I can see are monster looking arms stabbing everyone in view.
The part that gets me is how it travels across the huge distance before the video blacks out.
Things are now taking a creepy turn.
There is a swords man fighting along the monster. A very skilled one. The video is so poor that I cannot see the faces of any of them. I can’t even see any distinctive signs that can help me pick them apart in any crowd.
They are pretty good. They have managed to get away with mass murder. But, not for long.
They should know that I am coming for them, no matter what they are.