To Remember 3 : The Alternates ( Hoodie X Reader )

HallowWind Harbor Investigation

          I slammed the door of my 2014 Bentley, scrunching up my nose at the immediate smell of funnel cakes and body odor. Glancing at the Motorola watch on my wrist, I saw the time was just past seven o'clock. For a reasonably late hour, the carnival at Hallowind Harbor Pier was crowded. I rolled my eyes, throwing back the sides of my trench coat to shove my hands into the dark depths of my pants pockets. "Let's get this job over with," I growled to the air around me, slowly pacing towards the carnival entrance.

          It seemed like just yesterday when the station got the first missing child report. Sadly, it has been over a month, a new child going missing each day. The station suspected kidnappings were taking place. There were no leads, no clues, no clear demeanor, and no way we could possibly catch the kidnapper without investigating the location. They put me on the case almost immediately. Not because I would solve the case in a snap, but because I had a past of personal experiences with kidnappers.

          I was assigned to the case with a rookie, who's dream job as an officer was solving missing persons cases for the rest of her life. She was your typical bouncy redhead, who's hyper personality was about as obvious as her strawberry hair. Since she hadn't rode in with me, my first guess was that she had already gotten to the carnival before me. I wouldn't have put it past her.

          The young worker running the ticket stand carelessly waved me by, not bothering to take my money for the entrance fee. This is the world we live in, I thought to myself, casting the young worker a death glare to outwardly show my dislike of his actions. As I walked off, I turned around and walked backwards as I shouted to the worker, "You might want to straighten your act, young man! You'll never get the ladies if you keep such a snobbish guise!" He narrowed his eyes at me, shaking his head and turning away to repress the emotions on his face. I cracked a sarcastic grin, turning back around to continue my stroll through the carnival grounds.

          My detective senses kicked in, and I immediately noted everything unsafe about this carnival: uncovered wires crossing over walkways, tent stakes only half way into the ground, the gun safety off on booth games, the list goes on. From what I saw, it was a miracle this place stayed open for so long. But I wasn't the safety inspector, at least not today. Right now, I was the crime scene investigator. So was the rookie, I just need to find her still. Not that I was bothered to look; I preferred to work alone.

          "Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones!" I heard someone call, their highly feminine voice ringing in my ears. I gritted my teeth, begging to whatever gods would listen for it to be some other Mr. Jones, and for the high voice to be someone other than the rookie. No one can mistake the voice of a redhead, though. It was undeniably her. Forcing the fakest smile on my face, I turned to face the head of fire as she bounded towards me in her black stilettos. I will never understand how women are able to run in heels! Thankfully she stumbled a bit, proving that not even women themselves understood how they could run in heels.

          I took my hands out of my pockets, clearing my throat and greeting her with a simple, "Hello, Rookie." She giggled, giving me a shy wave as she came to a halt a few feet away.

          "It's such an honor to work with you, Mr. Jones! Everyone at the station talks about you so much!" she chirped, her toothy smile beaming brightly. I shrugged, turning away from her and continuing my walk through the carnival.

          The rookie followed behind me, blabbering inanely about what an honor it was and giving me her life story, or why she wanted to be a missing persons investigator. Apparently, from what I bothered to hear, her name was "Edit Higgins," and not Rookie. Not that I cared. But honestly, she was paying no attention to the cracks between the wood that could trap her stiletto heel and cause her to fall, most likely breaking her neck. "Sir," Rookie remarked, "what exactly are we doing here? No one at the station gave me any information about this case."

           "It's not a case, Rookie," I growled between my clenched teeth. "Not yet anyways. As far as the public eye is concerned, this investigation is never taking place. Off the grid, you could say."

          Rookie clapped her hands together, jumping in excitement. "Oh Mr. Jones sir you have no idea how enthused I am to be working here with you, on an undercover assignment at that!" I simply rolled my eyes, suddenly wishing I could abstain from hearing her voice. Or just work alone on this case.

          It took me a while to notice, but Rookie fell silent halfway through her one-sided bandy. Glancing back at her, I saw she was staring directly at the ground. I trailed my eyes down to the general area she was eyeing, regarding a few minuscule drops of a shimmering red gore. The drops were hidden in the peripheral vision of any normal by-passer. She briefly looked up at me with wide eyes, quickly looking back down at the red liquid. Gulping for air, she began to stammer, "I-Is this-"

          "Blood," I finished, annoyed at how childish she was at the sight. This was a small amount compared to what I was used to seeing. "You'll get used to the sight," I ensured her, looking around at the nearby planks of wood for anymore droplets. Of course, there were more. The person who caused the red droplets didn't seem too careful in hiding them. The general direction the droplets were leading created a dissipated trail in between the carnival tents. With my highest investigating senses kicking in, I began to follow the trail, not really worrying if Rookie was following or not.

          Of course she was. She was exuberant about working with me, after all.

          The bloody trail led to the entrance of a weather-worn tent, the fabric hidden from the public eye while visible enough to attract attention. I grasped the worn fabric that created the tent entrance, pulling it back as I whispered to Rookie, "Be prepared for anything, kid."

(((((Night do more with this after a long time. HallowWind Harbor is in Tinderwood, the town every single story of mine either takes place in or references. I'll have the map up sometime within the next month or two. I'm serious though, I'm trying to update my Creepypasta stories. I don't want to be the next Littlemisshorrorstory!......... not even sure if I got the name right.....)))))