It was sheer coincidence. It was only a matter of random circumstance that the young officer Markowski was out, doing his rounds, surveying the town and keeping watch over its inhabitants. It was not so random circumstance, however, that he was asked to go look back into the old docks where they had just made an arrest the night before, and it just so happened that he had been the officer that had been asked to do it. He thought nothing of the assignment, assuming it'd be easy work—a quick sweep, then he was home free and in the good graces of the chief. But it was never that simple.
He stepped out of his car and walked a few paces towards where all the action had happened, stopping and wondering what it might have been like to be one of the officers who responded to the call. It was a sour point with him that he never got to do any of the fun stuff—only useless legwork like now. Although it wasn't as useless as he thought, because behind him he could hear faint humming coming from someplace that was barely out of sight. At first he considered it might just be a drifter—after all, this place was frequented as a den for junkies looking to shoot up.
The humming went on, so softly, and without thought he gravitated towards it, discovering he had an overwhelming need to see where it came from, which voice gave it life. When it seemed to be coming from inside one of the old sheds he stopped, noticing that something about the tune seemed to be off. Yes, it was soft, but in its way it was also broken—choppy, boxy, an eerie sound that emanated from within. Somehow that didn't seem to stop him, and he twisted the handle and let the door creak open slowly as he clicked on his flashlight and shined the beam around the room.
Immediately the light reflected off the pearlescent skin of the woman who was crouched in the corner facing away from him. She was clearly naked, and as if not having noticed him yet she continued on with her humming. The officer wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, because in a way he felt almost paralyzed standing there in her presence. It wasn't long until he saw blood dripping from somewhere in front of her, and after lowering his beam a little he could see the unhealthy amount of red that was already staining the floor.
He called in gently, a kind inquiry to see if she was alright, and it caused the noise she was making to immediately be cut off. At first she did nothing, remaining motionless and silent as the cop considered going to her, but then she gradually erected herself, the sickening sound of her bones rearranging catching him off guard and unnerving him. Maybe he would've been afraid right then, maybe he would've understood a little better what was happening if he wasn't filled with such complacency looking at her.
When she finally turned to him he could see that the blood did indeed cover her front side, but none of it was her own. A trail of it led from her mouth, dripping from her chin, and he could see the dead rodents that she held in her hands. A swift check with his flashlight showed that she had already collected a pile behind her, and he told himself he should be afraid. On her face, the only thing visible to him were her lips, which curled impossibly up as she let out a shrill laugh and took an uneven step towards him. Again, he asked her if she was okay, if she needed help, but she didn't seem to hear him.
"Hungry," the voice that came from her was inhuman, distorted and wailing. Though he still felt a little tranced before her, he could feel the threat she posed as she took another step towards him. He told her not to move, that he would go call for help, for she refused to stop as she wailed at him again. He wanted to leave, but his feet wouldn't move, so instead he put his hand on his gun, hoping that the emphasis would be enough to make her stay where she was. It wasn't, and her steps only hastened.
"Hungry!" She shrieked as she found more balance and rushed at him. The way she moved was odd, like the skeleton under her flesh was not in one piece, and all the little parts inside of her went in their own directions. He yelled for her to stop, still trying to give her a chance, but it was clear she had no intention of listening. Now he wasn't being nice, and he quickly pulled the gun from its holster to discharge one shot to her leg. That did nothing, failing to faze her as she neared, so he gave her one to the shoulder, to her stomach.
Still she came, and when he'd exhausted all his options he aimed at her forehead and pulled the trigger, the bullet going clean through her skull. It was the only thing that froze her in her tracks, and her head whipped back from the force. Markowski lowered his weapon, breathing heavily as he waited for her to hit the ground. Yet she didn't fall, and after only a moment her attention was pointed back at him, and as if she were willing it to her hair fluttered away from her face.
The cop felt sick looking at her eyes, which were almost not even eyes at all, but sunken holes where they should've been, and a decaying pool of death and rot to stare back at him. Yet this time he could feel the paralysis go through his body—actual paralysis as his legs and arms went numb. When he was completely helpless the woman, rather creature, made her way to him, slowly again as there was no rush, almost like she was enjoying his fear. She was, she could taste it, rolling off of him like a sweet scent.
"Hungry," she whispered, coming upon him while all he could do was scream.
Over on the other side of town, back at the police station, his colleagues continued to work just the same, unaware of his situation. Toby was just being escorted to a small room with a table and two chairs where he was told to wait—as if he had any other choice. After only a few long minutes the officer who had arrested him the night before came in, sitting down across from him and looking him dead on without saying anything. Toby figured it was probably an attempt to intimidate him, a means to scare him into whatever they wanted him to do—only it was wasted because he didn't scare so easy.
"I want to believe you, I really do, but look at it from our perspective. We get a call saying some guy got beat up and needs help, but when we get there and find him—just like we were told—you were the only other person at the scene. And you weren't looking too hot either." The officer, whose name Toby had learned was Cliff, shrugged his shoulders and settled back into his chair.
"Did you see him before they carted him off? He was a little guy, do you really think he could have done this to me?" Toby wasn't trying to be argumentative, but the clear failure in logic that the precinct had demonstrated had given him reason enough to be irritated.
"Probably not." Cliff nodded. It wasn't much of a stretch to accept it as fact; after all, he himself was a well-built man, so much so that Toby secretly sat across from him and wondered if he was on steroids. Despite that—or, perhaps, because of it—the officer was attractive, with brown eyes and short brown hair to match. Using those eyes the cop pried, trying to utilize his training in an attempt to understand what made his perp tick. "But tell me this, if you're as innocent as you say, what were you doing there?"
"Seriously? I literally already told you people this last night, I was passing by. I'd just got into town yesterday and I was exploring when I found him like that. If I was the one who did that to him, would I have called you?" Toby thought the entire thing was a waste of time.
"Maybe, if something happened. A drug deal gone wrong, or some other kind of exchange? I don't know, maybe things got out of hand and you accidentally hurt him, maybe you didn't mean to so you called for help." The cop worked through the possible scenarios, watching the prisoner's expression for any tell.
"Are you stupid? I'm done wasting my breath, either you charge me with something or you have to let me go—that's how this works, right?" Yet he didn't need to ask, because Toby knew very well how the whole system operated. His captor could tell that as well, and they sat there silently, not taking their eyes off of one another.
"Look, you don't seem like a bad guy, Toby. And all this? This is just a show for the other officers—they don't seem to believe you like I do. But I was the first one there, I saw a little more than they did." Cliff's words gave Toby a begrudging curiosity, and he was forced to wonder just how much he saw. Yet he didn't have to wait long for an answer as the cop finally put the folder he was carrying down on the table and pushed it across.
"What is this?" Toby asked before even opening it up, discovering that it was a file of sorts. Flipping through it brought him to a few fuzzy photographs—none that were very concise, but enough for him to make a positive identification.
"She's a thief," Cliff nodded to the pictures of Lorelei, "nobody seems to know who she is or where she comes from, only that she's damn good at what she does. I've been building an independent case for a while now, and I have to admit that I was a little surprised to see her running away when I arrived at the scene last night."
"There you go, maybe she's your suspect—go arrest her instead." Toby said flatly, not particularly caring about the beefy cop's personal vendetta against the criminal woman.
"Believe me, I would if I could. See, the thing is I know she wouldn't have been there unless something important was happening. So what did he have, that man? Did she take something from him, was she the one who hurt him like that?" Cliff took his file back, knowing that Toby would get nothing else from looking through it.
"I'm not saying anything else until I know whether or not I'm going to need a lawyer. Am I going to need a lawyer, officer?" Toby's sardonic humor was lost on him, he been hardened to that kind of behavior over the years. No matter how he wanted to portray himself, Toby still came across as a common lowlife to him.
"Not if you help me catch her. Tell me everything you know and I'll get you out of here and back on the street." Cliff was serious when he made the offer. Though Toby hated to give anything to his kind, he figured it would make this whole ordeal go away quicker if he cooperated. Besides, if he was being perfectly honest he was a little concerned about the man he had saved the night prior—concerned because the thief had wanted him too. Would he be safe while she was still lurking around?
"You want the truth? Fine. No, she didn't take anything from him. He was what she wanted to take, and lucky for him I was there to stop her, and this is what I get for trying."
"Now how do you know all that if you were just passing by?" Cliff eyed him suspiciously, understanding that there was more to the story that he wasn't quite getting. Yet, strangely, he couldn't shake the feeling that the man across from him had pure intentions. In response, Toby held up his hands, still cuffed, demanding that he be let free before he said another word. Only weighing it in his mind for a moment longer, Cliff got to his feet and pulled his companion up too, taking him from the room so that he could get him released. After all, the chief had said that if he was unable to get him to confess then they would have to let him walk.
They weren't the only team in the city though, and Lorelei let herself into her employer's building without invite, punching the security guard in the gut when he tried to stop her from getting to the elevator. When she'd ascended to the correct floor she went straight for the two large doors that blocked the biggest office off from the rest of the herd, not bothering to knock as she pulled them open and went straight inside. Monica, who was on the phone, looked up without surprise to see the thief standing there in a very sour manner.
"The eighth? Sounds lovely, I'll have my secretary get ahold of yours for the details," she held up her index finger, "right, right. Okay, see you soon." Then she disconnected the call and stood.
"I think we need to talk about our arrangement." Lorelei cocked her head to the side, waiting to see what kind of response she would elicit.
"And I think that would be a great idea. Why don't you take a seat, Ms. Ackley?" With a false smile, Monica beckoned to the chair in front of her, finding that Lorelei scoffed instead as she went over to look out of the window.
"Package. Package! I specifically asked what you wanted me to steal for you, and you failed to mention that it would be a living, breathing person." Despite her annoyance she laughed a little, turning to look the other woman in the eye.
"Like I said, you came highly recommended, you were supposed to be a professional and I didn't think the job would pose any issue for you." Monica was callous as she sat back in her own seat, flipping through her planner like she couldn't be bothered by her guest.
"I am a professional. A professional thief. I steal valuable jewels and powerful relics, I'm not a kidnapper—I don't steal people." Lorelei crossed over and slammed both her hands down on the desk, demanding all attention be put on her. Before either one of them could say anything else the doors opened and Larry arrived, flanked by two armed guards.
"Everything okay?" He checked with his colleague before setting his sights on the unwanted intruder, "you're not supposed to be in here."
"It's fine, we're discussing the terms of her contract." Monica put him at ease, stopping him as he started forward. Larry gave a quick nod over his shoulder, and Monica waited until his minions had disappeared to continue. "It seems to me like you should do the job you're being paid to do, simple as that, and seeing as I already gave you half of your fee up front it doesn't look like you have many options. Besides, look at it this way, he's not quite human—not anymore."
"For real? Are you seriously trying to tell me you still expect I'm going to go through with this? It doesn't matter whether he's a human, a demon, or a mutant. He's a person, that's the end of it." The very idea appalled Lorelei, and part of her wished that the mindless goon hadn't come in because she had a strong urge to kick the businesswoman in the head. She wished that for once people wouldn't always assume she had no ethics just because she was a thief, she still had her code, and that was enough for her.
"Not at all dear, I don't expect you to finish the job—I know you'll finish the job. I mean, think of the repercussions if you were to fail, I'd have to blackball you. And make no mistake that my reach is far, no one would dare hire you again when I'm through. Who knows, maybe the police would have to get involved." Monica did a better job at presenting her grin as fake this time, an effort to drive the threat in. The act was unnecessary, because it was heard loud and clear.
"Look at you go, evil bitch," Lorelei laughed amusedly, "problem is I don't take too kindly to threats. You think no one will hire me again? Just try it, I'm the best at what I do—that's why you chose me, isn't it? And sure, let's go ahead and get the cops in here, I'd love to see how that plays out. The Monica Wright Foundation, consorting with a known criminal for a kidnapping? Whew, that sounds like front page news to me."
"I will bury you unless you do as you're told." Monica went colder now, done with the games when there was too much on the table. There were no words to express the importance of things going smoothly, the way they'd been planned, and already she could feel the respect she commanded slipping as Larry eyed her curiously, waiting to see what she'd do.
"Do your worst, as of right now I no longer work for you. Best of luck though." Lorelei got in her face, seething before she pivoted on her heels and made her way to the door. For only a second Larry dared to block her, but when he saw the fire in her eyes he stepped aside and let her go. After she was gone the two cohorts stood there, quiet.
"What now?" He asked, glancing over to watch Monica as she stared off. With a deep sigh she picked the glass of scotch up off her desk, taking a drink before clenching it in her fist and causing it to shatter.
"Everyone around here is so incompetent, I'll handle it myself." She snapped, pointing so that he would get out. When he had gone she sat down in her chair, taking a moment to compose herself before picking up the phone and putting it to her ear. When she dialed the number she waited for it to ring, the voice on the other end greeting her and letting her know that she'd reached the hospital, "yes I'd like to speak with the administrator, let him know that it's Monica Wright calling."
Monica wasn't the only one who had set her sights on the hospital, and already Cliff had Toby in his patrol car as they made their way there. In the passenger seat Toby was cool, unmoved by the static the young officer was giving off beside him in anticipation of his payload. Cliff in turn was anxious to get there, thinking about how all his hard work might finally pay off in just a few short minutes. Today could be the day, and he was hopeful that Lorelei might show her face again if what Toby had said was really true.
With the help of the lights on top of the car they made it in no time, parking in the ramp and hurrying into the building. A flash of his badge was all the man behind the desk needed to tell them where the patient was, and they made it there quickly. Not bothering to knock, they both stumbled into the room at the same time, viewing the man Toby had saved the night before laying in the bed as comatose as they'd last seen him. Yet that was all, and he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger from the thief or anyone else.
"Cliff?" A nurse came into the room as they both turned to behold her, and Toby watched as the cop hastily ran his hand through his hair to make sure it was presentable.
"Nina, hey." Cliff cleared his throat and gave her a wide grin, going over so that he could hug her. After they embraced Toby stood there for only a moment before coughing to himself. "Right, this is Toby. Toby, Nina."
"It's nice to meet you," she did her best not to judge him based off of his appearance, "what are you two doing here?"
"I got a tip that this guy might be in trouble, is he one of yours? Have you seen anybody suspicious hanging around?" Cliff suddenly remembered why they had come, and he shook his head as he returned to business.
"No, nothing out of the ordinary. I've been with him all day because, yes, he is my patient." Nina brushed by them both to take a look at him.
"He looks worse, is he going to be alright?" Toby had hardly paid attention to the exchange between the two of them, focused more on the man in the bed than anything else.
"I'm sorry, I can't give out that information." She didn't bother paying him much attention either as she went about her duties. Cliff looked at Toby, curious if it mattered one way or the other, and after Toby had assured him that it did, Cliff caught her by the shoulder.
"It's a matter of his safety, we need to know." He told her softly.
"Technically you know there's a procedure for this kind of thing, right?" With a sigh she gave up, "to be honest I don't know. We managed to stop the bleeding but he'd already lost so much blood, and no matter how many transfusions we give him nothing seems to be working. For some reason the body registers it as invasive and rejects it. If the doctors can't figure it out soon, I'm afraid he won't last through the night." Nina was blunt with them as a knock came at the door. Another nurse entered then, but she stayed only long enough to hand a note to Toby before leaving.
"Who was that?" Cliff asked, looking after her.
"I don't know. You asked if I've seen anything suspicious today, right?" Nina looked uncomfortably at him, "I'm positive she doesn't work here—I've never seen her before."
"I know why your transfusions aren't working." Toby glanced up from the paper and addressed Nina, waiting until she looked at him to roll up his sleeve. "You're using the wrong kind of blood, he needs mine."
"What are you talking about," bewildered, she turned to the man she actually knew, "Cliff, who is this guy?" She wondered, only to find that the cop had become distracted.
"Hold on a second." He broke away from them as he stepped towards the door, spotting a fellow officer standing in the hall. "Hey, what are you doing here?" At first he was worried that something was going on after all—something that they had missed by loitering around in the room—but when the officer turned to him he saw his dull and lifeless eyes. "Markowski?" Cliff watched him nervously, muttering under his breath in disbelief as his gaze drifted down until he saw the gaping hole in his chest.
Yet the lifeless Markowski made no indication that he had heard any of the words spoken to him, and all at once he lunged at Cliff, tackling him to the ground when he was too surprised to defend himself. Before he had time to recover Markowski sunk his teeth into his neck, causing Cliff to howl in pain as he struggled to push the heavier man off of him. It wasn't until Toby appeared, swinging an oxygen tank at his head, that he fell away and allowed his victim to spring back up. Cliff cursed again, louder, still in shock as he held a hand over the bleeding wound he now had.
"I don't think that's Markowski anymore," Toby offered as the undead man got back up, turning to them again. In response Cliff pushed his companion behind him and drew his gun, only giving the other officer one warning before shooting him. It didn't seem to faze him, and he continued to come at them as the hospital around them erupted in a panic from the gunshots. After a few more bullets, Cliff and Nina were both mortified to see that he remained on his feet, seemingly indestructible, and they were trapped as he came into the room.
"How does he keep coming? He should be bleeding out on the ground by now!" Cliff fired another round, this one in his head, and still he did not die. When he was in reach, Cliff grabbed him by the shirt and struggled to keep him back, but all the blood made it difficult to keep a hold. Nina gasped in horror as she too saw the hole that went clean through him, and she retreated into the corner as Toby pulled Cliff away and took off a glove. All it took was one touch, and the fire burned so hot that all that remained was a pile of ash.
"What are you?" Nina managed, barely a squeak as Cliff turned the gun on him next. Putting his glove back on, Toby hurried to close the door to the room, knowing that security would be there any minute.
"I don't really have time to explain right now, but trust me when I say that I'm the good guy. You saw that he had no heart, he wasn't human. Neither am I. That's something he and I both have in common with him," Toby pointed to the man in the bed, "that's why he needs my blood—human blood is too weak to sustain him." And he was right, grateful that the mysterious note had arrived just in time to alert him that the man was not quite human.
"I believe you," Cliff murmured as he lowered his gun, knowing that his gut instinct hadn't changed from earlier. No matter what he'd just witnessed, he knew that Toby had saved all of their lives, and if he had meant any harm then he could've easily hurt them at any point before. "Nina, take him, get him out of here, start him on an IV or whatever, I'll deal with this."
"No way, this is crazy, you're all crazy!" She shook her head, unwilling to trust anything that she'd just experienced, and she jumped out of her skin when Toby went over and put his hand on her shoulder.
"I won't hurt you, and you can be in denial all you want, but I need you to save his life. That's what you want too, isn't it? This is the way we do it." Toby did a better job at persuading her than Cliff did—though maybe it was because she found herself incapable of defying him directly. Either way they disappeared through the adjoining room as security arrived, armed and ready to deal with the gunshots that had caused a panic.
As Cliff did his best to tell them that Markowski went rogue and attacked him, he ended up having to say that he escaped—which made for a better story than admitting he had been burned until there was nothing left. Besides, he knew that the cameras would back him up, and they would only show the cop attacking him before he followed them into the room. Whatever happened in there, well, they would have to take his word. Though there was some skepticism, they still locked down the hospital and initiated a sweep in hopes of locating the rogue officer before he could escape. Of course they wouldn't find him, and Cliff just hoped that Nina would play her part and not give Toby over.
Though she was far away from the hospital, deep underground, the creature that had eaten the officer's heart could tell that he had failed in his mission, to bring the boy back to her. She shrieked in rage, displeased to have been undone when she was certain her mission would be complete. After all, it was such an effective power, turning the mortals into dead puppets when she consumed their beating hearts. The one she used today had looked promising, and now she wasn't sure how to proceed. Yet his youthful vigor had made her stronger than she was before, more so than the carcasses of the vermin before him. That was how she could tell she was not alone.
Making no attempt to conceal herself in the shadows, the demon woman who had attempted to rescue the man from her yesterday came forth, holding her sword steady in her hand. Yes, immediately the creature could tell that this one was more powerful than the fleshy failure she'd employed—this one would surely get the job done, and she laughed shrilly and beheld her with her eyes of death. Only they had no effect, and she could see that somehow the demoness was not placed under her thrall when she stood in her presence.
"You do not fool me. I know what you are, Anchoress." The demon woman did not wish to hold any conversation with the foul creature, but she needed her to know that her powers were lost on her. Without another word she started at a run towards her, ready with her sword. Yet the Anchoress was indeed more powerful than she had been when she'd entered the mortal coil, and she used that strength now as she lashed out with her hand to disturb the air and rip open a hole in the world. The demoness was not deterred by this, and she leapt high into the air, ready to land with a fatal strike.
Yet the portal itself was not the weapon that the Anchoress had chosen, but rather it was the leathery demon that slithered out of it, and instantly it blocked the attack for its master, ready and willing to engage in combat to protect the one who had brought it into this plain. The demoness had no choice but to focus her attention on it while the Anchoress gave one last high-pitched shrill and disappeared.