Tainted Perceptions

September 14 1889, Midday (Unedited)

"Oh bloody hell." Permilla whispered, grabbing her stomach to halt the bile that threatened to rise. Her movement gathered one man's attention. The man bent over the girl who fainted, followed her gaze and grew pale. It didn't take long for his to lean over to another bush and heave. The crowd surrounding the scene was close to collapsing in a haze of panic, Permilla felt the tension in the air almost tip over.

With a deep breath, Permilla realized she would have to be the responsible witness to what appeared a crime. With a shaky breath, Permilla looked towards the scene and tried to take in the details. It was a young girl. That much was obvious from the torn white dress that was stained a dark color. Not older than herself. 

She looked like 15 years based on her small stature. Permilla hesitated before she walked forward. Her face. One side was smooth. Her eyes were decorated with kohl. She looked almost too young. Peaceful. The other side of her face was a tragedy. It was a mess of torn skin. From her scalp all the way down to her lower back. The red meat of her flesh was exposed to the open air. It was terribly grotesque.

The whistle of the incoming police calmed the restless crowd. Whatever happened now, wouldn't be on their souls. Multiple policemen ran up onto the scene. It was a mess of ushering civilians out of the way. Permilla would have continued her observations, if not for two men, clearly in charge walking over.

"Please leave this area. This is now a crime scene." He was a tall man, but rounded out in his middle section. He was elderly, it was bordering on inane for him to still be working, especially in law enforcement. Permilla got the feeling that he was a generally jolly person, evident from the indent of crows feet on the corners of his eyes. He ususally laughed a lot.

When her eyes shifted over to the other man, her breathed hitched slightly. The other man looked in his early 20's. He stood tall with a hard set jaw. He had eyes that reflected crystal ice. She told herself that it was the shock of the current events that made her chest. His eyes ran over her multiple times. He turned his back to the two and went about preserving the scene.

"I believe my help might be valuable to your investigation." Permilla said right off the bat. Her mind whirled about finding out what happened to the girl. Both men turned towards Permilla, the older one nodding, "Were you a witness?"

"Well no but—" The second policeman cut her off,

"Then how are you useful?" He sniffed in annoyance before looking over his shoulder. Permilla blinked multiple times at this. She then decided that his untouchable demeanor was annoying.

 The older man looked over at Permilla with apologetic eyes, "Excuse Inspector Mckinnon. I'm Inspector Needham. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I can help you with the crime scene and a few facts-" Inspector Mckinnon looked her up and down before looking to Inspector Needham.

"This is no place for a female. Run along." He dismissed her. Permilla felt her mother's influence take over, the American influence take over. Permilla's shoulders went broad and her chin lifts. "Inspector, I thank you kindly for your consideration of my gender," Permilla sneered, "However I'm perfectly capable of handling this scene."

"And what makes you capable of handling a murder scene? This is not a game—"

"I am well aware Inspector Mckinnon," Permilla's eyes darted around looking for a viable excuse.

Her eyes latched onto the crest that laid on her gloves. It was a bouquet of lemon blossoms. "I am the daughter of Patrick and Becca Agneir." Saying her family name out loud set the lingering crowd into a whispered frenzy. She ignored the feeling of the lingering eyes. She also ignored the fact that rumors were forming in their mouths like eager bubbles waiting to boil over. "I am perfectly within my rights to investigate this crime scene, as it is what my family does for her majesty." Permilla was proud that her voice didn't waiver on the lie.

While her mother and father both worked for the throne of England, in different branches, that did not include her just yet. She turned towards the body once more, much to the horror of Lynette who still clutched at her hat a small distance from Permilla. Pushing down her growing nausea, Permilla breathed in deeply and willed her mind to relax. It was almost like pouring a glaze over her brain and when she opened her eyes she was ready. Inspector Mckinnon's breath caught at the sudden change of the woman in front of him. Gone was the one who was slightly green but one with sharp, cool calculating eyes.

Minding the dried blood, she crouched down next to the body. There was no smell, like she anticipated and her slightly morbid brain made a mental note. It didn't take long for her sharp eyes to spot something particularly fascinating. The skin on her neck was not one clean tear like she originally thought. At a closer glance there were little punctures. Like she had been punctured with a nail hundreds of times. There was a broken strand of metal that hung limpy from her shoulder on her unharmed side. Reaching forward to grab it, Permilla felt how icy the body was. It was so cold that she felt it through her gloves. Inspector Needham behind her squawked at the thought of a young woman fiddling with a dead body, connection to the queen or not. Permilla rolled the link between her forefinger and thumb. It was a metal link with a singular pearl on it. Just like the one she and her father discovered last night.

Her head jerked back and her mother's favorite saying run in her ears, "There is no such thing as a coincidence." Standing stiffly, Permilla dropped the chain and pearl in her pocket to hide it. She had to make sure she had a connection.

(*)

Hey! Thanks for reading once again.

Don't forget to VC&S

Vote!

Comment!

&

Share

~Jasmine