x
I awoke to a knock at the door. It was roughly four in the morning, and I wasn’t very pleased with it. The chilling moist London air permeated through the various poorly sealed cracks in the apartment walls, making me want to bury myself deeper into my blankets. Much to my frustration, I knew that Scott wasn’t going to get up to answer it, so I got up and threw on my coat to cover myself before opening the door. “What do you want? It’s four in the morning,” I asked with a groggy and weary voice.
On the other side of the doorway stood two of the authorities with near squat rack physiques and tired expressions. "Don’t tell me… Scott did something stupid to piss you all off again?” I asked as that was what they usually came to gripe about. If so, what could he possibly have done to piss them off so early in the morning? The two both looked at me in amusement.
“There's been a murder on Buck’s Row, and we were told to collect you as it could be part of your jurisdiction,” the one on the left said. Despite them coming over every so often, I could never remember their names.
“Give me a moment to get ready, and if one of you wanted to wake up Scott, that would be great,” I said with a devilish smile. Realizing what I meant, they tiptoed past me and into his room with sinister grins. Thus, while they learned just how hard it is to wake that man, I got ready. A few minutes later, I hear the grunts of one of the authorities followed by a crash.
“What the hell are you doing in my house, lieutenant?” I heard Scott yell angrily, nearly slurring his words. I was too busy grabbing some iron bullets for my pistol to care, though. While I already had it loaded with silver bullets, I didn’t want to be unprepared. I knew that there was still quite a lot of Fae in the city that could be a threat.
“Scott, don’t kill them. They came to take us to a murder scene, so I asked them to wake you up. As you can tell, they were very eager to do so,” I explained from my room.
“Fuck you, Lou.” I heard him yell back through the wall before I heard him loudly gulping down what I assumed was liquor. I swear, he is going to need a new liver soon. Either that, or he has a liver of steel.
By the time the authorities had led us to the crime scene, it was around 4:30 in the morning. Scott wasn’t exactly thrilled about being there, while I, on the other hand, had never done anything like this, so I was kind of excited. Most of the past jobs had been boring and dull, so I was intrigued by something new. However, I learned very quickly why Scott wasn’t excited. Upon seeing the corpse, a wave of dread washed over me. It wasn’t like one you would see in a casket. Instead, it was surrounded by a pool of somewhat fresh blood and covered in knife wounds. I had to step away for a moment to stop myself from throwing up at the sight of it. What kind of person could do such a thing? It didn’t make sense to me how someone could do that.
“What’s it look like?” Scott asked a man who I assumed was the detective. The man, in response, gave Scott a look that made me think he wasn’t thrilled to have him around. Unlike Scott and I, who were poorly dressed, the detective was dressed in a rather nice brown suit. His hair was cut short, all except for his prominent mutton chops. He also sported an unlit cigarette in his mouth, which was starting to bend from the pressure his mouth put on it.
“Well, if your sad, drunk eyes didn’t see it, there’s a corpse,” the detective said.
“Come on now, Ron. I want to do my job, you want to do yours, so let's work together,” Scott replied.
“Fine, her name is Mary Ann Nichols. A bunkmate of hers at a lodging house on Thrawl Street, Mrs. Emily Holland, was able to identify her. The victim had two cuts to her throat and several incisions down the right side of her abdomen. Her Abdomen was also partially ripped open, as if to remove an organ,” Detective Ron said with a disgusted but stoic look.
“Thank you, Detective,” Scott said before going over to the corpse and crouching down next to it. I followed unenthusiastically. ”Look here, Lou. This looks like a human-on-human murder, right?”
“Well, yes,” I replied.
“Wrong, humans can commit murder like this, but they don’t leave behind blood that sizzles when touched by silver,” he said, pointing to a blood stain next to a small burn spot under a silver locket that the victim wore. Let me see your knife.” Following his request, I gave it to him, not entirely sure where he was going with it. After taking the knife he touched it to the blood stain, and just like he said, it started to sizzle. Then, he touched a part of the woman's innards with the knife, but it didn’t sizzle like the other.
“Well, a monster did kill her; but why would it cut her open like this?” I asked curiously.
“They were trying to remove an organ of some kind. Whatever it was trying to take, it didn’t have enough time to do so. There isn’t a single organ or bone missing,” Scott said thoughtfully, as he looked over the corpse.
“What kind of monster does this…” I asked as I gestured at the body “... for an organ?”
”Werewolves couldn’t make cuts like this. They usually just rip open their chest and take the heart. A Pishachas could also do this, though they usually just take the whole body. Changelings could also do this, but there aren’t many Changelings around… here,” he pondered out loud, then looked at me with an expression of realization.
“What?” I asked, utterly sickened by the mutilated corpse before me.
“We were attacked by a Changeling several months ago, and no one has found it yet. You should remember this because it, you know... stabbed you.”
“Don’t remind me,” I replied, trying not to think about it.
“That Changeling might be the culprit,” Scott said, as he thought about it.
“Yes, but how will we find them? We haven’t been able to find it since it ran off months ago.” As I asked, he looked around warily. The Changeling could still be here, and we would never know it. The thought of it being anyone made my skin crawl with unease. Nobody around us looked in our direction, even for half a second, so I assumed it to be safe. That said, I started resting my hand on the grip of my pistol to calm my nerves.
“Correct, but we weren’t exactly looking that hard, were we?” Scott asked rhetorically, noticing my unease.
“Well, no… But what are we going to do that could be any different?” I know we were busy with other things, but the only reason we hadn’t pursued the changeling yet was due to the fact that we didn't know how to properly track a changeling. At least, Scott told me he didn’t know.
“We will ask for some favors,” Scott said with an uncomfortable smile.
“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” I asked under my breath.
“We are going to ask Mama Louise and her connections,” he said with a pained look that I quickly and reasonably shared.
“Fuck!” I said under my breath, again, before standing up from beside Scott.
***
The sun rose a few hours later, as we sat across from a young-looking Mama Louise. We were currently sitting in her personal lounge. As always, it reeked of perfume and the intoxicating smell of candles, igniting the red and purple room with a vibrant glow. She was sipping coffee from a porcelain tea cup, with subtle hints of her sleep deprivation. Although she had yet to say anything, we could easily tell that she wasn’t overjoyed to aid us. After several awkward seconds, she set her cup down on its plate with a shaky motion and crossed her legs before clasping her hands around her knees.
“Do you realize what you are asking me, Scott?” she asked as if she were vexed by his request.
“Yes, but I would think that because of our recent endeavor, we would be entitled to a favor,” Scott countered.
She sat twiddling her thumbs for a moment before answering. ”You are correct. However, that does not mean I can do the impossible. We did our best to keep the peace around London while you were away, but we found no trace of the Changeling during that time. I don’t see how you can expect me to be able to find it now.”
“I am not asking you to find it, but rather, to keep an eye out for it. You have plenty of authority in London, and can see what we cannot,” Scott explained.
“That does seem more realistic. I will consider it but only if you were to bring me more of Iscariot's youth elixir. Then, I may be more inclined to accept your request,” she said, giving Scott and me a hinting smile.
“Can’t you just go have one of your lackeys get it, or do it yourself? You did have some relations with Iscariot before, didn’t you? Why do we have to go on errands for you, when someone else could die?” I asked with a confused look. You could say that I wasn’t happy with her, because she is using us without much payment, but it was more about the fact that someone was murdered, and there might be another murder soon. Scott just turned his head slowly and looked at me as if he thought I was about to be killed.
“We had relations, but those relations have been… strained recently. Though, you do misunderstand two things. You, in a way, are my lackeys; and I can’t go by myself because even though I look like I am relaxing, I am actually very busy. I am only speaking to you now because I respect the two of you, and know that you would only want to talk for a few minutes,” she replied with a smug yet dignified look.
“F-forgive him, Mama Louise. This topic has him a bit on edge since he was stabbed by the same person,” Scott said fearfully and apologetically. I looked at him in shock because he was attempting to BS Mama Louise.
“Calm down, Scott. The boy was simply venting. He has a right to, but I would caution him as to who he vents in front of. That said, he does have a point. Someone else could be killed, and although the British Crown is aligned with the Table, they can easily attack us if humans start dying frequently in London. One dead human here and there is okay, but if it becomes noticeable, we would be in trouble. Because of this, I will help you,” she stated.
“Thank you,” Scott said with a thankful sigh. He stood up from the chair along with me, and we began to head out the door.
“Scott, I would probably be more agreeable if you brought me that elixir, if possible,” she said as we left. Scott gave her a thumbs up in agreeance, and we continued our way out through the main hall and onto the street.
“Well?” I said as we headed in the direction of the apartment.
“Well, what?” he replied, cocking his eyebrow.
“What now? Do we continue the search?” I asked. He still hadn’t explained how this was going to be any different than what we had already done.
“No, let’s head home. I need to have Elysif go to the coroner's office and look at the body,” Scott replied with a tired yawn.
“Well, I’m not just going to sit around,” I stated headstrong with annoyance. How could he be so casual?
“You’re right, you're not. You are going to Iscariot’s to get a few bottles of that elixir Mama Louise asked for,” Scott said as if that was already expected of me.
“...I am? Why am I doing that?” I asked, unsure as to why we were even appeasing that selfish prick.
“Did you not notice that when she set her tea down, her hand was shaking?” Scott asked.
“I did.”
“That is probably a sign of withdrawal. She might be addicted to those elixirs, and although an intervention would be fun, having her in a calm mood will help us in the long run. So you will get those elixirs and bring them to her,” Scott explained.
“So you want to drug her up and feed her addiction so that we can use her and her resources?” I asked with an uncomfortable look of disappointment.
“Yes,” he replied, near-instantly.
“The fact that you didn’t even hesitate to answer makes me wonder how evil you can be.” Scott shot me a strange glance as if he were taken aback.
“I am not evil. I am simply doing what is best for everyone,” he said with a hurt expression. He then pulled out his flask, and took a few swigs.
There was a brief silence as we strolled. Scott would occasionally glance at me as if he expected me to just go along with it. Eventually, I gave in, because I knew he was right about it making things easier. “Fine… I’ll go to Iscariot’s,” I said, before turning right at the next street to head towards Iscariot’s with a dissatisfied huff. As I strutted away, I could have sworn I heard Scott chuckling to himself.
