The spider Calls {Discontinued}

Chapter 10-10th June

Howdy. I may or may not update soon. Just depends on if I can be bothered to write.

Happy reading folks.

He himself had seen the power of Enrico Gaast, although his mind said it was true, he believed it an illusion. Because if something like that was true, then the very fabric of the world was a lie. Everything he had believed, everything anyone had believed, it was all a lie, just a lie. For if men who turned into spiders existed, what other horrors existed? What if werewolves and vampires lived among humans, and demons walked the earth? But they couldn't be real. Someone would know if they were real or not.

He left his car parked outside his home and walked inside. It seemed cold and unfeeling, the lights all turned off.

When he walked in the first thing he noticed was that the doormat was slightly scuffed. There had been no mud on it, and it was tilted at an odd angle. It had been perfect in the morning, Dacanery knew it. He proceeded into the house like he would a crime scene, not touching anything in case forensics could be found and taken.

He examined the rest of the downstairs floor. Nothing else of immediate notice was amiss until he entered the kitchen. There was a speck of mud on the floor, which could be analysed in the labs. Find out where it came from. Nothing else was out of place. Whoever had come in had obviously known how to sneak about without leaving traces, but wasn't good enough.

Dacanery moved upstairs, cautious of disturbing anything. He would make a call to the forensics team, to see if they could come up with anything he couldn't.

Upstairs was in the same state as the majority of downstairs was: undisturbed. But when Dacanery checked the cupboards his case files were gone. Every note he had ever made on the current mystery: old and new, all of the details: gone. Some other files were gone, these could have been to distract from the case he as working on, or the killer's notes could have been taken as a distraction from whatever else had been taken. What was gone was more than likely more important than what would have been left.

He returned downstairs, after having spotted another speck of mud in his office. He was pretty sure the robbery was not by some common robber. No, this was too organised to be that. But he hadn't been home for about two days, maybe it could have been an ordinary robbery, maybe he was just freaking out, obsessing over something worthless. But a gut instinct told him he was wrong. He texted the station, to the leader of the forensics team.

My house has been broken into, and I need samples to be examined.

A reply came a few minutes later.

Hello detective, hope you're well, we can't go to your house tonight. I have the team analysing the evidence from Snake's release, and it's a damn hard job. Is it true you've been called off the case?

Dacanery thought a few minutes before sending his reply.

Yes, I have been called off the case. I heard about Snake's release, but important files have been taken from my house. I need it examined directly.

This time the reply was longer coming, as if the leader had been called away.

But when had being taken off a case ever stopped you. Look, I'm sorry but tomorrow really is the earliest I can send the team over.

Thanks anyway. Dacanery's reply was short and curt. He wondered whether he should sleep in a hotel, as not to contaminate the evidence.

But the nearest hotel was miles away, and was terribly expensive. One night couldn't hurt could it?