[A/N: The GIFs for some reason are not working, so please just bear a few chapters without them. Thank you for your cooperation!]
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Tris sighed frustratedly as she gripped the pencil tighter, the Institute room's lights dim. Angrily, she furiously scribbled across the page, tearing it. She slammed the pencil down and leaned back on the chair, crossing her arms across her chest. For the past four hours, she had just tried to focus on this image popping into her head, that she needed to do something.
Going for a run would definitely not be permitted by Aldertree. Even the thought of the English man made her eyes roll in annoyance. She turned her head towards the sound of the door opening and found Isabelle smiling at her.
"Demon attack downtown. One mundane dead," she said. "And we don't have a personal doctor, so you're with us. Be down in a few, okay?"
Tris nodded, offering the girl a smile she returned before leaving. Tris sighed, looking at the ground and looking up once the door opened up again and in walked Nick, tears streaming his cheeks.
"Nick, what's wrong?"
"It was her," he sobbed, being pulled into his girlfriend's embrace. "My-My friend who died a couple years ago, she wasn't murdered, or pushed from the edge of a building like everyone else thought. She killed herself."
"I'm sorry, Nick," the girl pressed a kiss on his shoulder before hugging him again.
That story couldn't have reminded Tris of someone so similar.
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"We got a 10-54."
The police crowded around the area and one of them said, "I don't see a dead body, though."
"Nothing to see," the coloured male spoke. "It's a false alarm. Just some dumbass kids pulling a prank. All right, you have a good night, huh?"
"You, too."
Once the police cleared out, Tris stepped out from her hiding place and walked over to the dead body that was glamoured to all mundanes. She grimaced seeing the body that had a hole punched through his chest.
"Well, this is one nasty demon," she frowned, crouching down beside the body. "Punched a hole right through his chest."
"With that kind of strength, I doubt it's done yet," Isabelle said, agreeing with the Lewis girl.
"Do we know how long he's been out here?" Tris asked, looking at Luke who shakes his head. "Then I need to check up on something real quick."
Tris crouched low beside the body, her face curling in disgust as her black jeans soak some of the man's blood. She went to touch the man's eyelid, but Alec shrieked.
"What are you doing?!"
"Quite down," Tris rolled her eyes. "It's called rigor mortis."
"I'm sorry," Clary cleared her throat. "What?"
"Rigor mortis, or postmortem rigidity, is the third stage of death. It's characterized by stiffening of the limbs of the corpse caused by chemical changes in the muscles postmortem. In humans, rigor mortis can occur as soon as four hours after death."
"So why are you touching his eyelids?" Isabelle asked, raising her brows.
"At the time of death, a condition called "primary flaccidity" occurs. Following this, the muscles stiffen in rigor mortis. All muscles in the body are affected. Starting between two and six hours following death, rigor mortis begins with the eyelids, neck, and jaw. The sequence may be due to different lactic acid levels among different muscles, which is directly related to the difference in glycogen levels and different types of muscle fibers. Rigor mortis then spreads to the other muscles, including the internal organs, within the next four to six hours."
"So this will help with. . .?"
"I'm surrounded by idiots," Tris sighed. "This means we'll be able to find out if he was murdered quite a few hours ago and if the demon had the chance to escape."
"Oh."
Tris reached for the man's eyelid, pressing it a little, finding it stiff. Then the neck and the jaw. Very stiff. Tris stood up. "He's been here for more than two hours which must've given the demon a good amount of time to get away. We need to check up on this mundane."
"Nothing in the immediate area," Alec looked at Luke. "We're taking the body back to the Institute."
"I'll run some tests to see what kind of demon we're dealing with. Tris, will you help?" Isabelle asked, looking at her.
Tris nodded.
"Clary and I will widen the perimeter, just in case," Alec stated, nodding at the others and giving Tris a smile.
"Hey, Fray! We got a demon to hunt."
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Simon was sitting on Tris' bed while the brunette girl was in the bathroom, getting out of her blood soaked jeans and changing into a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable t-shirt, letting her hair down and walking out of the room to sit beside her brother, who answered a call and put it on speaker.
"Hey, Mom. What's up?"
"Dinner tomorrow," she stated. "Eight o'clock. Don't disappoint me."
"You sound just like Grandma, except with more guilt," Tris smiled. "If that's even possible."
"Your sister is coming home for the weekend, and I think it would be a good time for us to all get together. What do you two feel like? Ribs or burgers?"
"Ribs!"
"I'm actually kind of on a liquid diet now."
Tris scowled at Simon, quietly mimicking him.
"What? One of those cleanses?" Elaine scoffed. "That's why you look so anemic. When was the last time we had a nice family dinner?"
"Look, Mom, I-I really want to come, it's just--my manager has me on this really tight deadline and I have to find female singer for one of our gigs," Simon lied.
"I am sure Raphael will understand."
"Yeah, well, you don't know him like I do."
"But I know what family means to you," Elaine softly said.
Simon smiled a bit. "Yeah, you're right. We'll be there."
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"Did you kill the werewolf Gretel Monroe?"
The blonde boy's hands were wrapped around the glowing sword as the truth was being pulled out of him, one by one, as the Head of the New York Institute sat in front of him, his back straight, but relaxed.
"No."
"But you captured her for your father, Valentine Morgenstern, after being encouraged by your spellbound sister," Aldertree argued.
"I accept full responsibility for my actions."
"You have a great love for your sister, don't you?"
"Yes," Jace strained.
"In fact, to my understanding, you two were involved in a romantic relationship prior to the discovery that you were siblings. Is that true?"
"Yes."
"What about now? Do you love her the way a brother loves his sister?"
"Yes. I-I like someone else."
"I see. Do you love your father? "
"I love the dream of the father I wished he'd be," Jace frowned.
"The kind of father who wouldn't kill a young boy's falcon?" Jace's head shot up. "Yes. I know more than you think about you and dear dad. To love is to destroy. Quite a harsh lesson for a six-year-old boy. Do you agree with that sentiment?"
"Yes."
"Do you feel your father's goal to kill all Downworlders is just?"
"Yes and no."
"Which one is it?"
"Both. My father's world view may be misguided, but I've seen the vampire dens that are thriving because of the Clave's lack of action. Your lack of action."
"Final question. Can you pledge your unconditional loyalty to the Clave?"
"Facilis descensus Averno."
"I asked you a question. Can you pledge your unconditional loyalty to the Clave?"
The sword glowed brighter.
"Answer!"
"No!" Jace yelled. "No, I can't."
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