File One: Carter Fincher

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I'M SO SORRY THIS IS LATE I FEEL SO BAD!!!!! anyway here have a Carter! ~Grif

Carter Frincher

Detective and Regional crime investigator





What he looks like:

The male stood in the door way. A tall man in a light brown jacket, the color of a white button up sticking out slightly. His black jeans where soaked near the bottom, his black shoes covered in mud. He ran his hands through his dark brown hair, attempting to shake out whatever water had soaked in. He looked up at the smaller male. The paleness of his skin making his green eyes glow slightly. He smiled warmly. 
"It's wonderful to meet you! I'm Carter! I was sent here by Chief Waterson!" Trevor felt his heart melt. Carter had a lisp. He had a lisp. 

Story part :P

Carter sits at his desk surrounded by files, notebooks, and empty coffee cups. He was working on the same case he'd been working on for the past three years, sorting out clues and complicated timelines inbetween county assigned cases. Every new lead pulled him closer to his final answer, every new investigation only left him with more questions and useless information then he had asked for. He looked over the scribbled drawing in front of him for the 800th time in the last hour, trying to decode the strange symbols. Sighing, Carter stood up, taking the drawing to the corkboard on the wall. He pinned it up with all the other papers. Different colored threads connecting the pieces that went together.

Some people who looked at the board called him obsessed. They told him that he was trying to hard. That he should drop the case and focus on what the county gave him. But simple crime wasn't Carter's style. Something bad happened in the old abandoned manor off of highway 36. Something no human could possibly do. Something inhuman. That something was still in the house. But it couldn't have committed the horrible act alone. It had an accomplice. A partner in crime. And a damn good one at that. Carter was certain that the human partner had left as soon as the crime was committed, but that the otherworldly murderer had stayed behind and taken ownership of the abandoned estate.

He needed to go back. Carter rushed over to his desk, grabbing his pistol and slipping it into his jacket alongside a video camera and an audio recorder. He left his office in a hurry, scooping his keys out of his pocket, frantically approaching his partners desk.

"Trenton, get your things we're going to MirkWood." He said quietly. MirkWood was the name of the property the manor was built on, off of highway 36. Trenton nodded, grabbing a notepad and his gun, pocketing both. The two silently made their way towards Carter's sleek black car of unnamed branding.

The drive to MirkWood was long, Over 50 minutes. The ride was silent, the only sound being the soft hum of the car's engine as they made their way down the empty highway. Dark clouds hid the moon and the stars, making the night seem very, very, dark. The silence continued, filling the car with an uncomfortable static hum.
"Why the sudden urge to go back Carter?" Trenton asked, breaking the silence in half a glow stick that was bent to far. Carter glanced over at his partner, then back at the road again.

"I have a feeling we'll find something, or maybe even someone. The human accomplice may have returned to the Manor. We could catch him or her and return them to the station for questioning." Carter felt like his answer was well said. Trenton gave him a concerned glance.

"We know who the human accomplice is Carter. The county left him to one of the out of state detectives." The air in the car turned cold. Filling with anger.

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