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Elysif stood at the front desk of the coroner's office. The office itself was a small building, with only a few rooms along a hallway. The walls were all white plaster, with newly replaced wooden floorboards being the nicest thing in the room. The light fixtures held many lit candles, but the fixture was coated in several thick layers of wax that sometimes dripped onto the new flooring, right in front of a large clean desk.
The secretary behind the front desk adamantly refused to let Elysif pass, because apparently, she looked too young to be a doctor. She did look too young, and probably was, but when did that matter? She was a doctor, and had a standing business relationship with the coroner. The secretary, however, was a new hire, and didn’t quite understand this, so she was told that she would have to wait until the coroner was done with the examination before she could verify it.
This wasn’t what Elysif wanted to hear at all, so rather than waiting, she bolted through the door and down the hall to the examination room. Elysif knew the layout of the building from past visits, so she knew exactly where the examination room was. The secretary attempted to run after her, but was having a hard time keeping up with the stubborn witch due to wearing heels.
Elysif burst into the examination room, much to the coroner's surprise, followed by the secretary who angrily grabbed Elysif by the collar and began to drag her out. Elysif, knowing how the coroner would react, didn’t fight her. The coroner, after seeing the display, asked, “What is the meaning of this?”
“I am sorry, sir. This hoodlum of a child burst in here demanding to see you. I will remove her at once,” the secretary stated in a fluster.
“Why wouldn’t you let her in? Elysif is a doctor, believe it or not, and a representative of the esteemed Table. Now, you unhand her, and leave us,” the coroner demanded. Elysif looked at the secretary who was still holding her collar and stuck out her tongue. With a disgusted scoff, the secretary released her and left the room.
“You should choose nicer secretaries,” Elysif said, eyeing the coroner.
“What can I say? I like the sassy ones,” he replied.
Wynne Edwin Baxter, the coroner in charge of the autopsy, was dressed in a usual tan suit vest, with the sleeves of his undershirt rolled up. His hair was matted back, with some kind of oil that made it shine, and his face bore a thick mustache with a slight five-o’clock shadow. Though, to Elysif, he was a work friend that she would never want to be around outside of work. It was just that he was too annoying to be around outside of these walls.
“So, what can you tell me?” Elysif asked.
“There are two cuts to her throat. One of which goes down to her vertebrae and there is a jagged cut to her abdomen,” Wynne explained.
“Well, I can see that,” she replied, looking at the corpse.
“On the right side of her abdomen, there are more lacerations all caused by a downward cut from the same knife. I am not entirely certain, but I believe a razor of some kind was used. The cuts on the side and on the throat aren’t very wide,” he said, giving her an overzealous look. She ignored him, and started rubbing a piece of silver over all of the wounds.
“That will help. Do you know why they cut into the abdomen in the first place?” Elysif asked after the silver gave no reaction.
“You Table folk are the experts on monsters, not me, but it seemed like they were trying to remove some of the organs. My guess is they were only able to do this much before they ran away out of fear of getting caught,” he said whilst attempting to balance a scalpel on his finger, poorly.
“Thank you, I’ll tell Scott. Maybe he’ll know something. Oh, and before I forget. You should have your secretary let me in next time,” she said with a smile.
“Will do. Also, I have the victim's clothes as well, and behind one of the buttons was a note. I think you should read it,” he said, pulling out a small yellowish paper.
She accepted it and unfolded the paper to read its contents. “What the hell?”
***
Inside the bar, The old man turned to me slowly and grabbed my arm. Before I could react, he pulled me close enough to be able to whisper something to me. I started to draw the knife from my sheathe, before he whispered, “Help me!”
“What do you mean?” I whispered back.
“I want to apologize for stabbing your stomach, it was only business. Although it seems I have gotten myself in a jam with my most recent job,” he whispered harshly.
“Wait, stabbed me in the stomach? You’re the Changeling?” I whispered in surprise, as I slowly drew my knife out of its sheath even more.
“Yes, and I admit to killing Ms. Nichols, but she will only be the first if my employer is not dealt with. He wants me to cause chaos in London by creating more of my kind in excess. I was unable to remove the organs for the ritual this time, so he’ll have me do it again soon,” he stated in a hushed voice.
“Wouldn’t you want that?” I asked.
“Of course, I want that, but I have a strict code of only killing those that no longer have the will to live for the creation of my kind. The one who hired me, or should I say, forced me to do this, is making me break that code. I want you to stop him, as well as myself, before too many people get involved,” the Changeling answered convincingly. I could see the fear in his eyes as he spoke.
“Okay, but why can’t I just arrest you now, and we work together to stop your employer?” I asked as it made the most sense.
“He would kill me as soon as I was captured. He has people inside the Table.”
“Who is your employer?”
“...A myth named Sir Micheal. He is still alive, and is forcing me to do this, so please stop us both. It was divine fate that brought us together today. Wouldn’t want to waste that, would we?” he said. As he explained it to me more, he seemed to be more at ease. Though there was still a lot of fear in his eyes.
“One other thing. If you are pretending to be the man that helped me, then I assume you killed him?” I asked with a bit of resentment.
“No, I simply saw him as a good fit for a disguise. It’s not like I can just change into whatever or whoever I want, they have to meet certain criteria. Plus, I only kill if I am being paid to,” he said, standing up from his barstool. “Hanbury Street, within the week. Stop me,” and with a tip of his hat, he waltzed out the door into the pouring rain.
I thought about stopping him, but what he said about being killed before we could stop this Sir Micheal made me think. Who was Sir Micheal really? If he was still alive, like Merlin and Mordred thought, then what was his goal?
Now that I think about it properly, didn’t he kill Isabell, and didn’t he want to kill me as revenge for the Changelings that I had killed? It was like talking to a completely different person. Either it was desperate, or playing me for a fool. That didn’t matter, though, because now I had some idea of when the next murder was gonna happen. I guess I will play my part for now, even if I am the fool.
Finishing my fish n’ chips, I returned to wading through the rain back to the apartment. Not to my surprise, I found Scott asleep on the couch, with a book covering his face. I didn’t really care, though, I was too wet to care or do anything, except change, so I left him be. When I had all but my pants off. Elysif burst through the door also soaking wet. Her white dress shirt and brown pants stuck to her skin like spandex.
“Did you forget an umbrella too?” I asked as she trudged in, dripping water like the flood.
“Yes, now please get me a towel before I flood the floor,” she replied, needlessly snappy. I obliged her and threw her a towel.
“Did he just fall asleep?” she asked, as she started to dry herself off.
“I don’t know. He was out cold when I got here a few minutes ago,” I replied.
“Well then, he’s gonna have to say goodbye to his right nipple later,” she stated with a sadistic look that I was not comfortable with.
“What?” I asked, very confused by her statement.
“It’s nothing. Did you find out anything?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I met the Changeling.”
“Wait, you met him?” she asked with a surprised look.
“Yes, and he wants us to stop him as well as his employer,” I said before taking off my soaking pants and getting a dry pair on.
“Employer?” she asked with a strange look.
“Yeah, he’s some kind of mercenary, but he is being forced to do this job by a Sir Micheal,” I answered after pulling my pants up, much to Elysif’s dissatisfaction.
“Well, that’s pretty interesting. I was given a note that was stuffed under the victim's dress' button. It said: 'The Masked One seeks anew and the Changed one seeks revenge.' Either Sir Micheal put it there, or the Changeling did it.”
“I still can’t believe that what Mordred said wasn’t all bullshit,” I replied, as I pulled my belt through the dry pants' belt loops.
“I still think that this Sir Micheal has long been dead, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. He could be an immortal, like Merlin,” she said, offering an idea.
“True, but what do you think we should do about the Changeling?” I asked, as Elysif tried to soak as much of the liquid from her clothes as possible with the towel I gave her.
“I don’t know. It would have been simpler if you had brought him in when you saw him, rather than being an idiot and letting him go. That said, I don’t know the context of what transpired between you two, so I will not judge you for your decision, until we know that what you did was stupid.”
“...” I stood silent. She had a point, but I was too scared of bringing him in only to have him killed before he could say anything. My lack of reply caused Elysif to assume I didn’t have a good reason and scoff.
“He told me that his next victim would be killed in less than a week on Hanbury Street. We should stake it out,” I said. Elysif thought for a moment, Rubbing her chin as she did.
“Mama Louise could help us out with that, and we can stay spread out along Hanbury Street in preparation for the attack,” Elysif said in a manner that made it seem like she was excited about this.
“If only we knew the exact day he was planning it.”
“Well, we have to work with what we have,” Elysif said, as she draped the towel over her shoulders like a shawl.
“Since Sir Micheal is supposedly part of this, we should contact the Table, right?” I asked, as I had heard that name before from Mordred. Whatever he was, it would be too much for us if Mordred was afraid of him.
“I agree. Though we should probably talk to Scott about it first.”
“One of us can go deliver a letter once the rain stops.”
“Alright, then, when the rain lets up, we’ll let them know,” Elysif agreed.
“We are not going to do that,” Scott said groggily as he sat up from the couch, surprising both Elysif and me.
“Why not?” Elysif asked.
“Because if we did, then Mordred would show up with an army,” Scott said. He knew Mordred the best out of all of us, so Elysif assumed that he was being logical. I, however, disagreed.
“An army? Why?” I asked. Scott stared back at me like I was stupid for asking that.
“She has a vendetta against Sir Micheal. If we told her that he was here, then she would have every agent in the world come here to try and kill him. That’s the reason I didn’t say anything the last time we saw him. Merlin would try and stop her, but it wouldn’t do any good,” Scott explained, as he looked around the floor for any bottles of rum that he could have dropped.
“That does make a lot of sense. She always seemed a bit on edge when talking about him. Especially when we were at the Table headquarters,” Elysif added.
“What I don’t understand is why last time we saw this Sir Micheal, he was chasing after the Changeling after saving us. If he wanted to cause chaos as you said, then why save us? We are the only agents in London, and because of that, if we were gone, then every hostile creature here would rise up. There would be anarchy in the streets. London is a big place, and we can’t be everywhere at once. Our friends may help keep the peace, but even they can’t keep everything safe if people start a rebellion against the Table,” Scott said.
“That does create a hole in the Changeling's story. What could they really be planning, though? When he talked to me, he was very convincing,” I replied.
“It could be that you were tricked. He saw you, recognized that you were the agent from last time, and decided that it would be best to trick you and leave safely after feeding you a few lies mixed with the truth,” Elysif suggested.
“That could be it, but I was the one who initiated the conversation because he was pretending to be someone I had met before,” I replied.
“Even more so for him to trick you. If you knew the person that he was impersonating, then he couldn’t hide that he was a changeling. They can copy a person's body, but not their mind, so they can’t always keep up appearances. That is usually why a changeling kills someone before taking their place. Afterward, they leave for someplace far away from anybody that their skinsuit may have known,” Elysif stated with a more convincing and stoic tone.
“Okay, then what do we do?” I asked.
“We play along whilst setting a trap. Lou will watch Hanbury Street with some shadows that we can borrow from Mama Louise. Elysif will go with Iscariot, and watch the buildings from above for suspicious activity. I, on the other hand, will go dig up some dirt from the underworld on this Changeling, and see if there is any news about where else he could be on the off chance that he wants us on Hanbury Street so we’re away from where he really is,” Scott ordered.
“I don’t see how I’ll be able to do much when it comes to surveillance. What do you want me to do?” Elysif asked.
“Use a familiar to watch the situation through,” Scott said as if that was easy. I didn’t know if it was.
“But I can only create one of those at a time with my capabilities,” Elysif stated with an inquisitive look. I guess it was difficult to do.
“That is true. Under normal circumstances, you could only create one before you’re burnt out. However, with Iscariot’s magic, you can make over a hundred… possibly. You see, part of his dimensional magic is that he can make copies of anything, but with normal copies you would still have to have the magic power to control them, right?” Scott replied whilst rubbing his chin.
“Right?” Elysif said, trying to understand where he was going with this.
“Well, in Iscariot’s case, he actually creates copies that rely on each other. For example, if he creates two copies of your familiar, and then creates two more copies of each of them, as long as the original exists, then it can function without extra magic. He, however, needs the magic power to make the copies, so you’ll be limited to around a hundred,” Scott explained.
“A hundred?!?” Elysif exclaimed, shocked by the sheer amount of power that would require under normal circumstances.
“Yes, that should be enough to cover at least half of London,” Scott said as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“That’s still an insane amount,” Elysif replied, worried that this would break her mentally.
“I know, but you can do it,” he answered unconvincingly with a wave of his hand, while he continued looking for a bottle.
“Okay, then we kind of have a plan,” I finally said with a light clap of my hands.
We split off for a little bit. As Elysif left for Iscariot’s, I talked to Mama Louise, and Scott disappeared to get information. There isn’t much else to add, except Mama Louise was at Iscariot’s at the time that Elysif arrived, and I was on my way to meet her. Elysif, who had already gone to Iscariot’s, was greeted by an almost bare naked Iscariot, who asked if she could come back later. I, on the other hand, was greeted with an apology from one of the Succubi that Mama Louise was out at the moment.
When I was told this, I realized what was going on, and attempted to get to Iscariot’s before Elysif saw anything, but sadly, I didn’t. Instead, I found Elysif huddled in the corner by Iscariot’s door. She was beet red and didn’t want to go inside, so I had to drag her in, kicking and yelling, after Iscariot opened the door, now clothed. He was a little embarrassed by the situation, but Mama Louise was prideful about it for some reason. Iscariot didn’t mind his own embarrassment, though, because of the embarrassment he caused Elysif.
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