This took me forever to write, but expect the next part soon!
Haunting part III-Witness
"This is it?" Mercy said, a hint of disappointment in her tone.
"This is it," I confirmed, rechecking the number of the apartment. I was just as surprised as my fiery friend. The coordinates had led us to an apartment on the outskirts of Gotham. It was one of the older, less kid-friendly neighborhoods with constant police patrols. Not exactly the mission I had been expecting. Even more odd, the other squads weren't anywhere near us.
"Should we knock?" Mercy asked. I shrugged and rapped my fist against the door. It swung open under the slight pressure. We exchanged glances. I slipped my dagger into my hand and Mercy slowly pushed the door open, sparks dancing through her fingers.
The entryway led straight into the living room. It was dark and musty and smelt off tobacco. We entered cautiously, Mercy leading, me watching our 6. There was a shabby sofa, a side table, and a small tv.
The side kitchen reckon wreck. Dishes were pilled high in the sink; mountains of empty pizza boxes covered the counters; leftovers were cloaked by green-gray, fuzzy mold. The smell was horrendous.
Next we checked the two bedrooms. I took the first while Mercy went to check the second.
I braced myself for another poisonous smell to attack my nostrils, but none came. The twin bed pushed against one wall was unmade, sheets and blankets tossed aside; the floor was spotted by indevidual articles of clothing. It reminded me of a college boy's dorm.
The bathroom in the hall wasn't too bad, either. Sure, it needed a good spray down with Lysol disinfectant and there were wet towels on the floor, but there weren't any eyeballs floating in the sink.
I sighed, trying not to feel disappointed I hadn't found any bombs that needed defusing.
"Sil," Mercy called from the second bedroom across the hall, "I found something."
I hoped I hadn't jinxed it and would now find a nuclear time-bomb set for 30 seconds. I stepped into the bedroom to find something much worse.
The white walls were splattered with red. Not a soft rose red, or a solid brick red, but a wet, dripping blood red. A broken picture frame lay on the floor, broken glass spread across the floor.
The body of a man lay in a thick puddle of the red goo next to the bed.
He couldnt have been more than 30. His dark hair matched the half shaved stumble on his chin. Fully dressed in a suit, he may have been leaving for work when his life had been taken. His vacant eyes stared up at the ceiling.
Mercy was kneeling next to the body, carefully keeping out of the blood pool. I tenderly picked the frame off the floor. More glass fell to the floor as they were shaken from their place. I turned it over, and found myself staring at a blood soaked picture of a family. It was the dead man, unmistakably, and a woman who craddled a toddler.
"On shot to the chest, a second to the head," Mercy observed, standing.
"Execution style," we said in unison.
"Let's call it in," Mercy suggested, pressing her comm to her ear.
"Wait," I said, running my eyes over the red streaks decorating the wall. "There's way too much blood for one man. Especially if he was only shot twice."
"Where'd the rest come from?" She finished for me. We both became on high alert, Mercy's hands now in full blaze, my dagger steady in my hand.
The crunch of glass made us turn. Crouched on the ground, was a cloaked man. He stared at us, and his eyes, the only part of his body not covered, were wide.
I blinked in confusion, then looked up. On the ceiling was a smear of blood, as if something covered in the fluid had hung their. Or someone.
"Shit," the man said. He ran at us. Mercy launched a fireball and, in his mad dash, he barely evaded its path, and almost came face to face with my dagger. To fast to somprehend, he sprinted passed us and leapt out the window, shattering glass onto the street below.
"Call for back-up," I said, running to the window.
"Where the hell are you going?" Mercy asked.
"To get our witness." Before she could argue, I leapt out the window and onto the lower roof. I rolled to lesson the shock of the plummet and sprinted after the cloaked man.
Haunting part III-Witness
"This is it?" Mercy said, a hint of disappointment in her tone.
"This is it," I confirmed, rechecking the number of the apartment. I was just as surprised as my fiery friend. The coordinates had led us to an apartment on the outskirts of Gotham. It was one of the older, less kid-friendly neighborhoods with constant police patrols. Not exactly the mission I had been expecting. Even more odd, the other squads weren't anywhere near us.
"Should we knock?" Mercy asked. I shrugged and rapped my fist against the door. It swung open under the slight pressure. We exchanged glances. I slipped my dagger into my hand and Mercy slowly pushed the door open, sparks dancing through her fingers.
The entryway led straight into the living room. It was dark and musty and smelt off tobacco. We entered cautiously, Mercy leading, me watching our 6. There was a shabby sofa, a side table, and a small tv.
The side kitchen reckon wreck. Dishes were pilled high in the sink; mountains of empty pizza boxes covered the counters; leftovers were cloaked by green-gray, fuzzy mold. The smell was horrendous.
Next we checked the two bedrooms. I took the first while Mercy went to check the second.
I braced myself for another poisonous smell to attack my nostrils, but none came. The twin bed pushed against one wall was unmade, sheets and blankets tossed aside; the floor was spotted by indevidual articles of clothing. It reminded me of a college boy's dorm.
The bathroom in the hall wasn't too bad, either. Sure, it needed a good spray down with Lysol disinfectant and there were wet towels on the floor, but there weren't any eyeballs floating in the sink.
I sighed, trying not to feel disappointed I hadn't found any bombs that needed defusing.
"Sil," Mercy called from the second bedroom across the hall, "I found something."
I hoped I hadn't jinxed it and would now find a nuclear time-bomb set for 30 seconds. I stepped into the bedroom to find something much worse.
The white walls were splattered with red. Not a soft rose red, or a solid brick red, but a wet, dripping blood red. A broken picture frame lay on the floor, broken glass spread across the floor.
The body of a man lay in a thick puddle of the red goo next to the bed.
He couldnt have been more than 30. His dark hair matched the half shaved stumble on his chin. Fully dressed in a suit, he may have been leaving for work when his life had been taken. His vacant eyes stared up at the ceiling.
Mercy was kneeling next to the body, carefully keeping out of the blood pool. I tenderly picked the frame off the floor. More glass fell to the floor as they were shaken from their place. I turned it over, and found myself staring at a blood soaked picture of a family. It was the dead man, unmistakably, and a woman who craddled a toddler.
"On shot to the chest, a second to the head," Mercy observed, standing.
"Execution style," we said in unison.
"Let's call it in," Mercy suggested, pressing her comm to her ear.
"Wait," I said, running my eyes over the red streaks decorating the wall. "There's way too much blood for one man. Especially if he was only shot twice."
"Where'd the rest come from?" She finished for me. We both became on high alert, Mercy's hands now in full blaze, my dagger steady in my hand.
The crunch of glass made us turn. Crouched on the ground, was a cloaked man. He stared at us, and his eyes, the only part of his body not covered, were wide.
I blinked in confusion, then looked up. On the ceiling was a smear of blood, as if something covered in the fluid had hung their. Or someone.
"Shit," the man said. He ran at us. Mercy launched a fireball and, in his mad dash, he barely evaded its path, and almost came face to face with my dagger. To fast to somprehend, he sprinted passed us and leapt out the window, shattering glass onto the street below.
"Call for back-up," I said, running to the window.
"Where the hell are you going?" Mercy asked.
"To get our witness." Before she could argue, I leapt out the window and onto the lower roof. I rolled to lesson the shock of the plummet and sprinted after the cloaked man.
"...our witness."
