Her first murder

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A scream woke the whole camp up.

Robin (What a stupid, human name. It meant nothing, yet it was the only one she currently had.) awoke, getting off her cot. Screaming meant trouble. Screaming meant a fight.

She could use a thrill.

Leaving her so-called room she turned right towards the source of the sound.

The smell hit her first. Sweet and divine, it was floating freely above the crowd gathered in the space between the crossroads in the settlement. Blood. Not much, but enough to make her mouth water.

Robin pushed through the people.

Chris' body was laying on the sand, eyes open and staring up. There was a bloodied wound on his neck.

Elvira appeared on the other side of the crowd, dragging Poke behind her. The older woman was pale, her eyes wide, while the nurse was flushed, breathing quickly. They both crouched over Chris. Poke took his wrist gently, observing his chest.

"He's dead." She announced.

Obviously.

The crowd gasped, muttering in shock.  Jasper clenched his fists. Different reactions all around. Robin tilted her head, looking closely at the body.

There was no blood on the ground, only on his neck. Done wih claws or fangs? Neither, probably. Humans didn't use them like that. A weapon then, but none in sight. Flat on his back, no signs of other wounds. Dishonorable.

The crowd dispersed, some people going back to their rooms in fear, the others staying close to observe in curiosity. None taking action. Just waiting on Elvira to make a move. She was the leader. Eldest. Respected.

"Miller sent his fucking goons to teach us a lesson." Jasper was telling Elvira and Poke wrathfully. "It was him, I know it. Who else?"

Poke cleared her throat to draw their attention.

"You don't think she...?"

They all looked at Robin. She stared right back.

"I don't think so." Elvira shook her head. "Hey, Robin. Did you kill him?"

"No." She simply responded, going back to observing the body. 

"See? She wouldn't lie. I'm not sure she knows how to." Elvira sighed. "Still, this looks bad. She appeared less than a month ago, she's known for being violent and now someone dies. We have to keep her away from any interrogations."

"So you're saying..."

"This is not something we can handle. We have to call the police."

***

Hazal held her breath, taking a step into the homeless settlement. It was cramped, even more so with the dozen policemen walking around. People living there were watching them with distrust. She could feel their anger and panic, but she was looking for something more specific.

The assault and the fight happened in the area. The murder just pinpointed the exact camp. The demon had to be here.

She tuned into the emotions around her. She was looking for exceptional rage, wrath, madness, even that vague feeling of hunger that she sometimes felt from supernatural beings.

There were too many people around, not one of them stood out with their emotions. She'd need to find the demon differently before she could contact Angela to dispose of them.

"Willkers, what do we have?"

The man scrunched his nose. He disliked blood and everything human. Had he not been cursed, he'd never take his current form.

"Victim male, twenty one, Christopher Bayfield. Stabbed once in the neck, died around three last night. Techs could probably tell you more once they're done gathering evidence."

"I'm going to take care of interrogations, rejoice. You can stay away from the witnesses."

A spark of happiness actually ran through him at Hazal's declaration.

"Good."

"Stay here and look around. Report to me anyone suspicious."

Hazal looked around. It would take ages to get information out of those people. They didn't trust the police already, and invasive questions would do nothing to soothe their minds. Hazal would be able to influence them very little with her limited empathetic abilities.

 She carefully probed around with her mind, following a quiet feeling of respect from the people around. It was directed towards a short, hunched over elderly woman, who was watching the policemen with untrusting eyes, huddled in a washed out brown blanket. A lean man was standing at her side like a bodyguard. Hazal recognized him from the video of the fight.

Bingo.

Hazal turned around, pretending to look over the crime scene. In reality sghe was looking around, trying to spot even a sign of the demon anywhere. None of the people she could see looked like the one that had attacked a man on the video, but some were hidden in their rooms, under hats or hoods that made it impossible to distinguish them. Winter was making this search more difficult than it had any right to be.

She approached the elderly woman, ready to interrogate her about the murder.

A sudden spike of anger flared up behind the wall next to her. She stopped, a chill running down her spine. She slowly looked into a crack between the cardboard, but she could only see a fleeing shadow. It took the feeling of anger away with it.

Hazal double checked that the angelic feather was still in her pocket. Just in case.

The old woman with her bodyguard were observing her approach. The man's mind was coiled mostly with anger, but there were traces of sadness as well, desperately being pushed back by the just wrath. The woman was mournful, with a great deal of worry radiating off her mind.

Another chill rose Hazal's arm hair up. She felt watched.

"You're the one who called this in, aren't you?" Hazal asked the elder. It was a shot in the dark, since the caller didn't introduce themselves, but the woman nodded. "I'm Hazal Damir, chief of the police departament in Sathiro. I need to ask you a few questions. Do you have a more separate place for us to talk?"

The woman nodded, opening a curtain to a nearby room.

Hazal sat down on the run down sofa, while the woman pulled a chair for herself.

"This is just going to be a quick chat, but you might be called to the station for a more indepth interrogation." Hazal started.

"I understand." The woman nodded. "I'm Elvira Blanche."

"Alright, Elvira. Tell me exactly what happened here."

Elvira spoke methodically, step by step. Without many emotions she recounted getting woken up by a scream, finding the body, checking if the man was alive, and calling the police.

"Thank you." Hazal notted it all down. "Do you have any idea who could have killed Chris?"

The woman shook her head. Hazal couldn't tell if she was lying.

"Is there perhaps anyone new in your community? Someone who joined you recently, who you don't know very well? Or perhaps someone with violent tendencies?"

There. A pang of worry, mixed with a tinge of anger. Like guilt.

"People come and go, especially during the winter."

That wasn't a 'no', but it also wasn't a lie.

"So you don't know of anyone violent, that might have wanted to hurt Chris? It's important. We have to make sure they can't hurt anyone else."

"No."

The woman wouldn't tell her anything else, but the talk ensured Hazal that the demon was somewhere around. The only questions remaining were how to catch it, and why the woman was covering for it.

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