Chapter 25: Déjà Vu
A/N: This chapter has been brought to you by late nights, countless interruptions, and XYience Xenergy energy drinks that I get from my workplace for free. Enjoy. Fair warning, this chapter is intentionally very confusing on purpose.
Chapter 25: Déjà Vu
“The human brain is a complex organ with the wonderful power of enabling man to find reasons for continuing to believe whatever it is that he wants to believe.”
Voltaire
I shot out of bed and held my head. My breathing fast and shallow. As the rest of my mind caught up with my current train of thought I noticed that my entire bed was soaked in sweat. That must’ve been one hell of a nightmare. I looked over to the side of my empty bed and felt like something was missing, but I shrugged it off. I looked over at my phone and noticed that I had a missed call. Scratch that, there were three of them. All were from my boss. Then a text message came in, ‘Get your ass to 27th and Oakdale, double homicide.’
‘A double homicide at three in the morning? How could today get any better?’ I thought to myself sarcastically. Seriously though, why in the hell did I get into homicide?
***
One cold shower, a change of clothes, and a ‘healthy’ breakfast of doughnuts and coffee later and I was driving down the highway as fast as possible. There was no real hurry, it’s not like the murderer was standing over the poor sap’s body anyway.
I pulled up to the house and already there was an ambulance and four squad cars outside of it. The flashing lights attracted all the neighbors, that’s not going to be fun for someone to deal with. I got out and casually walked over to the police line tape. There was one officer near it, I flashed him my badge and he lifted the tape to let me though. I walked inside and saw that the lab techs were all busy at work, like human bees.
“Detective, it took you long enough,” a middle aged man said from my right. I peeked over to see my boss.
“Sorry, sir. My phone was left on silent,” I replied. Who am I kidding? I like to sleep.
“Well thanks to you dilly-dallying the lab boys have already finished processing the scene.”
“Oh goodie,” I rolled my eyes. “What’d they find? Let me guess, dead call girl? Dead husband killed by his wife when she discovered he was cheating on her? Cheating wife killed by the husband?” I started rattling off some possible scenarios for this type of neighborhood. It had to be upper-middle class based on the houses I saw coming up.
“None of the above.” Ok now this was getting interesting. “But before I let you get to work I’d like to introduce you to your new partner-.”
“Nope,” I said starting to walk towards the body. “Not doing it.”
He stepped in front of me, keeping me from getting to the main crime scene. “This time you ARE.”
“Oh come on, why do I have to? I prefer to work alone.”
“Excuse me? I’m supposed to meet with a Detective Briggs,” a female voice said from behind me.
“I’m sorry sweetness,” I said as I turned around. “But-.” What I saw in front of me left me speechless. A tall raven-haired woman, who looked to be in her mid to late twenties wearing a khaki pantsuit, sans the coat; and she had a badge hanging off her belt alongside her department issued firearm. Her pale skin contrasted against the color of her clothing. Something told me that she didn’t get outside very often. Her ‘assets’ weren’t all that bad either.
“See something you like?” she asked with a mix of amusement and distaste.
“Uhh, boss? Can I talk to you for a second?” None of us moved. “Uhh, yeah… you,” I said towards the newcomer. “Go play with the dead body.” She looked at me as though I just kicked a bag full of dead puppies. “Go on, get.” She walked towards the body giving my boss and me the privacy we needed. “What the hell’s going on here?”
“You need a new partner, especially after-,” he started.
“I know what happened, there’s no need to remind me,” I interrupted.
“Regardless, it’s department policy, so get used to it.” He started to walk away, but kept a firm grip on my shoulder first, “Try NOT to scare this one away. The interview process is a bitch to coordinate.”
“Well I’ll try,” I conceded. “But it’s up to her whether she’ll stay or not.” He gave me a ‘don’t fuck with me, boy’ look. “Fine, fine. We’ll try this your way.”
“Play nice,” was the last thing he said before walking away.
“Whatever,” I muttered as I walked towards the victim, my new ‘partner’ was already slaving away looking for potential clues. “Hello there ladies and gents, what do we have here?”
“Caucasian female, blonde, blue eyes, twenty-five years of age, and preliminary cause of death: blunt force trauma to the back of the skull,” the coroner stated for all of us to hear.
“And her name is-,” my new partner said.
“Hold your horses there, Sally,” I interrupted.
“But my name’s not-.”
“I know. I have twenty on her name being German, any takers?” I asked pulling out a twenty dollar bill. “Bueller? Bueller? No one? Weird. Usually there’s one taker. Anyway not-Sally, take it away. What is her name?”
She continued to stare at me for a moment. “What is wrong with you?”
“An expected response. Would anyone care to tell me the name of this poor soul?”
“Rebecca Smith,” someone said amongst the masses.
“Smith is a derivative of Schmidt, someone owes me twenty.” I knelt down next to the body to examine it closely. The poor dear was beaten to a pulp. “Jesus, someone was angry.” I muttered. I used a latex gloved hand to move her head slightly and saw the wound from the apparent killing blow. “Any luck finding the weapon that caused this?” I asked not looking away.
“No, not yet,” one of the CSI’s replied. “The M.E. already bagged and tagged the male in the bedroom.”
“Well we better get looking.” I pulled out my phone and dialed the station, “Hey Charlene, I need you to do a background check on a-,” I took the license given to me by one of the techs; “Rebecca Smith, born August twentieth, 2000,” I then gave her license number.
“One moment Detective,” she replied. I heard keyboard keys tapping in the background. “So how are you today?” she asked trying to make conversation.
“Neither better nor worse.”
“I see… Are you planning on visiting her soon?”
“Yeah, after I finish up at this scene, just like always.”
“Well I have your background check on Ms. Smith. She’s a bartender downtown at the ‘Bee and Barb’ tavern. Just moved to the city. No outstanding warrants, no parking tickets, nothing. She sounds like she was the model citizen.”
“There’s no way she could afford a place like this on a bartender's salary,” I muttered. “What’s her address?”
“I’ll send it to you. Are you sure you’re ok?”
“Yes Charlene, for the last time I’m ok. Thank you,” I said into the phone before ending the call. The address appeared in my text messages. “Watson!” I yelled out. A balding middle aged man popped his head into the room. “No, not you Carl. I meant not-Sally.” He shrunk back into whatever room he came from and not-Sally, now Watson, came over.
“What do you want?” she asked irately. “And my name’s not Watson or not-Sally, it’s-.”
“Yeah I don’t care. Meet me at this address in two hours,” I interrupted handing her a hand written form of the address.
“Why not now?”
“I have business elsewhere to take care of, just finish up here and meet me there in two hours. Capiche?” I asked before walking away, not even waiting a full two seconds for her response.
“AND MY NAME’S NOT WATSON!”
***
“Why is he such an ass? And what’s up with the whole ‘Watson’ thing,” ‘Watson’ asked one of the CSI ladies.
“That’s what he calls all of his partners, or well ever since THAT happened he has.”
“‘That?’ What are you talking about?”
“About three months ago he started getting insanely depressed and started going to the hospital for hours on end almost every day when he wasn’t on a case.”
“I heard it’s PTSD from that drug bust he and one of his long-term partners did. There was an explosion and he ended up with a medium concussion, scrapes, and bruises. His partner wasn’t so lucky,” another tech piped up while he was print dusting a trophy with a heavy base.
“You mean-?” not-Sally trailed.
“Oh, no. She’s not dead. Last I heard she was in a coma.”
“I also heard they were in bed together,” an officer said walking into the room. “But that’s just scuttlebutt around the water cooler.”
“And the not getting to know his partners’ names?” not-Sally asked.
“I guess he just figures it’s just easier that if he doesn’t know their names it doesn’t come to bite him in the ass later if something happens to them.”
***
Ten minutes later at the hospital…
I walked into the hospital room after the officer at the door let me through. I’ve been here enough that he doesn’t even need to see my badge anymore. I took off my coat and set it on the hook behind the door. I took a seat next to the bed in the comfy chair I bought for the room. I looked over the occupant’s features, like I always did. Her long, uncut, fiery red hair was splayed out on the pillow. Her once well-tanned skin turned to a pasty white. The sounds of the ventilator, EKG, and other machines keeping her alive played a quiet symphony of misery to my ears.
“Hey babe, sorry it took me so long to keep our weekly ‘date,’” I said taking her hand gently, hoping that she would grasp it. “I got caught up on another case.” Sadly she didn’t. Another day, another one sided conversation. “It’s a murder in that really nice neighborhood on the north side. Female, twenty-one, her whole life in front of her.” I shifted in my seat trying to get comfortable, “They have me assigned to another temporary slash permanent partner for this case. Fifty says that she doesn’t last longer than this case,” I said with a chuckle. I wish I could be drinking something hard right about now.
I sighed and I looked around the room. There were a few more cards on the end table from family and co-workers. “Seems like some more people came by, huh? They miss you at work, your bright personality and special kind of dark humor really helped in our grim line of work. Now it’s dull and boring. A monotonous routine.” I pulled out my phone and looked at the text from Charlene. “I have the vic’s home to get to look for clues to who her killer might be. I hate to go, but I have to. But before I do-,” I pulled out an iPod with a set of earbuds that was charging on the wall. “I thought that you’d like to listen to some music. After all the docs say that familiar sounds have brought the deepest of coma patients out.”
I put one ‘bud’ in her ear and leaned over to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Listen, I might be gone for now, but if you wake up I’ll be here faster than a jackrabbit on a skillet. That was terrible, wasn’t it? You always were the one who was better at that shit. I love you, and I’ll be back soon,” I said before hitting play, letting the music do its thing.
I turned around to see a certain new partner standing in the doorway, “Watson, what are you doing here and why aren’t you at the vic’s residence?”
She stifled a sniffle, “I didn’t know that you were that close to her.” She walked over to the bed, “What’s her name?”
“Samantha Brannigan. How did you know I was here?”
“A reverse phone look-up,” she replied with some pride. “I’m sorry, this was probably supposed to be a private moment between you two.”
“It was. She’s my partner, the only one I’ll work with. So don’t get too comfortable.”
“Again I’m sorry. Let’s start over. I’m Selene Romanov,” she said holding her hand out, a smile on her face.
“Briggs,” I replied taking it in a firm grip, me in return leaving a neutral expression on my face I had been wearing since this conversation started. “Now in case you’ve forgotten Watson, we have the residence of a dead person to get to.” I started walking. “And before you say again, ‘my name’s not Watson,’ consider it your nickname during our forced partnership. I’m pretty much Sherlock, you’re by proxy Watson. Got it? Good.”
***
We walked up to the vic’s front door. It was a nice house, albeit it was in not one of the nicer parts of town. By that I mean it didn’t look like it was in disrepair, in fact it looked well maintained. There were two doors, one heavy wooden door, with one glass viewing door in front of it. I looked at my reflection and saw something that didn’t make any sense. Instead of me wearing my suit, gun, and badge I was wearing a full combat uniform. I couldn’t identify the military branch though. In my hands was a M16 rifle and holstered on my right leg was what looked to be a Beretta. In one of the boots was what looked like a .357 magnum revolver.
I raised my right hand and my reflection did the same. I raised an eyebrow and so did the reflection. What the reflection did next surprised me, a proportionate set of jet black wings unfurled from behind me. My pupils started to dilate before a hand landed on my shoulder.
“Briggs, are you ok?” Selene asked. My head snapped to her before looking back at the door and the reflection in the glass was my normal self.
I blinked a few times, shaking my head to try to clear my mind. “Yeah I’m fine, it must be the lack of sleep I’ve gotten lately. Come on, we have a house to clear,” I replied. I put my hand on my holster in a way I could access it, which also exposed my badge, and rang the doorbell. There was no answer so I rang it again. I opened the outer door and knocked on the hard wood. “Police! Anyone home?” I said loud enough for an entire household to hear. Well so long as they weren’t listening to anything obnoxiously loud.
No one responded. It was quiet, too quiet. “Take the back,” I instructed and Selene nodded in response. As she rounded the corner to enter through the back door, I drew my pistol and flicked off the safety while keeping my finger outside the trigger guard. I stood on the side by the door frame and knocked hard, “This is detective Briggs of the police, please open the door! This is your last chance!”
Again there was no response. I twisted the doorknob and found that it was unlocked. I slowly opened the door as it let out a barely audible moan from a lack of grease. I held my gun up as I swept the entryway. Seeing that there was nothing I shouted 'Clear!' before I proceeded to the next room, again nothing. Then I moved into the living room, where I met up with Selene. She took the kitchen while I went towards the master bedroom. As I approached the air just felt cold and wrong.
I twisted the doorknob and let the door swing open as I lined up the sights, my finger inching towards the trigger. As the door finished swinging open I then knew the reason it was so quiet. “Clear! Watson, get over here.”
“Clear!” I heard her shout from the other end of the house. A moment later she appeared by my side. “What is it that you wanted me to-? Oh.”
“Yeah, another D.B.,” I replied. I flicked the safety back on and holstered my weapon. “Call it in.”
***
Fifteen minutes later the crime scene guys and the M.E. showed up on the scene. They closed off the scene and while the techs scoured the scene for clues I went over to the M.E. “So, who is she?” I asked. The body was below a bloody sheet, presumably from the victim.
The M.E. used her fingerprint scanner and brought up AFIS on her tablet. “Jenny Yang, age twenty-two, Asian descent,” she answered as she examined the wounds on the victim. I copied down every detail on my notepad for reference purposes.
“Preliminary cause of death?”
“From what I’m seeing here on the bed and the wounds on the victim, I would say cause of death was exsanguination.”
I cringed, “Not a way I want to go out.”
“There’s a good way to die?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, fast and quick. Like a gunshot to the head or a high pressure wave from an explosion. That or dying in your sleep. Preferably the latter of those.”
“Well I can’t blame you. Let’s get a look at the rest of you, sugar,” she said to the corpse. I honestly found that a little disturbing. However medical examiners are able to make bodies tell who killed them. So does that make it more like a one-sided conversation? She pulled back the sheet and our jaws both dropped. “My lord.”
“You said it, sister.” The victim was stripped of any clothing. What she lacked in clothing she made up in a multitude of fresh razor cuts. Her legs were broken in multiple places, though they sat almost straight on the bed there were abnormal bulges in the skin as the broken bones pushed out against the skin. “Jesus. And I thought the last scene was unpleasant.”
“I see multiple contusions, blunt force trauma, and sharp force trauma. Whoever did this definitely had some sort of beef with her.”
I noticed something white near one of the cuts. “Hey what’s that?” I asked pointing it out.
She looked at it and took a swab, “I have no idea, but I’ll send it to trace.”
I sniffed the air near the body and it sort of smelled briny. “I don’t know about you, but does that smell like sea salt?”
“Now that you mention it, it sort of does.” She then looked closer at the wounds, “You don’t think that-?” she trailed.
“Usually you’re the one telling me not to jump to conclusions. We’ll let trace do that for us.” I looked again at the body. “The sooner you get that body back to the lab, the sooner we find out who and what killed her.”
I took another look at the body before leaving the room. In her place was a redheaded Caucasian woman with yellow highlights and light orange wings splayed limply under her bare body. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she looked familiar. I blinked a few times and gave my head a quick shaking and when I opened my eyes again there laid the body of the victim, not the mystery woman.
“Is there something wrong, detective?” the coroner asked.
“No, no. I think I just need some sleep. I’m starting to see shit that isn’t there,” I said with a lighthearted chuckle to brush off the weirdness. “Just have the lads from the crime lab run up the results to my office when they have something.” I turned to leave towards the front door, “WATSON!!! We’re leaving!”
***
Unknown
I woke up slowly from my slumber on my bed. I felt another person sleeping next to me, or more accurately I felt someone sleeping on my arm. “Spits,” I groaned weakly from sleepiness. “Get off my arm.” She rolled a bit and I slid my arm out from under her, “Thanks,” I mumbled before drifting off to sleep again.
***
I woke up on my couch in my office. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I sat up. “Who the hell is this ‘Spits’ and why does that name feel important to me?” I muttered.
I heard the clacking of heeled shoes approach my office, “Detective Briggs, we have some evidence that just came back from the lab.” I opened my eyes to see that Selene, aka Watson was standing in front of me with a manila folder. “Did you enjoy your nap?”
“Hardly,” I replied. “What do you have for me?”
“The autopsy report came back on male back at our first scene. His name is Victor Salis, divorced, aged forty, Eastern European decent. Anyway the corner found a single GSW to the front of the skull, a small caliber round. Probably a .22, .35, or .38. We’ll know exactly what it is once we hear back from the lab on who owned the gun that fired it.”
“Anything else?” I asked looking at the first report.
She handed me a second folder. “The results from Rebecca Smith’s autopsy. The blunt force trauma that we saw initially wasn’t what killed her.” I raised an eyebrow, signaling her to continue. “She was strangled shortly after she was hit.”
“What about their times of death?”
“Within the same hour of each other.”
I let out a low whistle, “Wow, so we’ve got one double homicide and a ritualistic looking one, all in the same day.”
“Ritualistic, sir?”
“You didn’t see the body from the house after the coroner got there, did you?” I asked and Selene shook her head ‘no.’ “Well the vic’s body was cut repeatedly, her bones broken, and what looked to be sea salt in her wounds. Whoever did that is a sick psychopath.”
“Wow… I…” she stammered before I cut in.
“Well keep me in the loop, I’m going back to my nap. Tell the lab peeps to call me when they have something,” I said before finding my rancher style hat that was sitting on the arm of my couch and set it on my head before drifting off to sleep again. Well needed sleep.
***
I walked into my assigned room on the base. For some reason or another Spitfire and I was given a private room with a queen sized bed. A C-130 transport was being requisitioned for tomorrow morning and we were on a ‘layover’ until then.
“So…” I trailed sitting on the bed. “Are you excited about tomorrow?” Spitfire sat down on the bed next to me. “You get to go home after all.”
“Yeah, but…” she replied looking downtrodden. “There might be a chance that you won’t be able to come with me.”
“And if that happens, so be it. Princess Twilight said that they’re going to activate it tomorrow, the same day as the Crystal festival, using the crystal heart as the power source. How that manages more power than a Mark-II fusion reactor is beyond me.”
She giggled as she walked over to the door and locked it. “You know,” she said taking off her top, allowing her wings free, as well as her bra contained breasts. “There’s a reason why I asked for a private room for us.” She undid her belt and removed her pants, leaving her in white lacey lingerie. She then gave me the biggest bedroom eyes I’ve ever seen her give me before she pushed me down onto the bed and crawled on top of me.
“I’m pretty sure I know why, but why don’t you tell me anyway,” I said with a wry grin.
“I figured that this might be the last time we’ll be able to be intimate with each other for a time, if not longer. So I figured that we should have one last night together as a married couple in case something does happen.” She then pressed her lips to mine, her tongue darting inside my mouth. A minute later we needed to take a breath and she pulled a few inches away.
“Who am I do deny a lady something she wants?” I asked rhetorically with a wry smile.
(A/N: It is implied that something does happen, but since this is a teen rated fic it pretty much had to be cut from the story, however a possible cloptional chapter may appear at a later time as per the guidelines that I set for this story. Use you imaginations on what happened next ;) .)
***
‘He keeps drifting between levels three and four of the Glascolt scale,’ an educated voice said.
‘We have an identical scale called Glasglow back home,’ a familiar male voice said.
‘His subconscious has been drifting between memories and some sort of scenario created by his mind,’ a regal but young sounding voice said. ‘A very interesting one, might I add.’
‘Anyway, back to the topic at hand. There’s a chance he might not wake up,’ the educated man said.
I woke up again, I checked the clock on the wall and saw that a few hours had passed. The reason I woke up? My phone was ringing.
“Briggs,” I said in my half-asleep toned voice.
“Detective, we have evidence that points towards a suspect,” the head of the crime lab said.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I replied before hanging up. I looked down to see that for some reason Jr. was attempting to stand at full attention, that was one hell of a dream, almost lifelike.
***
I walked into the crime lab’s main lobby and took a seat. Normally I’d just walk straight in, but today I had to wait for ‘Watson’ since I had texted her to meet me here. I checked my phone to see if she had texted me for any reason, like if she got stuck in traffic or something. After all she said she was going to talk to some of the guys still on the scene or something.
“Detective?” ‘Watson’ asked.
My body jumped for a second at the sudden grab at my attention. I looked up and saw Selene looking down at me, “Jesus lady, where the fuck did you come from?” I asked. “Do you know what? Never mind, we have evidence to see.”
We walked through the double doors that led into the ‘innards’ of the lab. There we were approached by the lab’s boss, the one. The only-, “Miranda! It’s good to see you again. How long has it been since we’ve been on a case together? The Jackson case?”
“No, actually further back. The Stephenson case,” the slim, raven-haired Latina replied.
“Ah yes, the stalker murder-suicide. We’ve got some fucked up people in this world,” I added with a chuckle. “Anyway. Miranda, Selene. Selene, Miranda,” I said as I introduced them.
“I’ve heard of you, your employees speak very highly of you,” Selene said.
“Why thank you. And I’m glad to see that you’re getting along with my employees. Selene, huh? That’s an interesting name there. Named after the Roman goddess of the moon are we?”
“Well I was born at night with a full moon high in the night sky. That and my parents favored Romane mythology.”
“As in the lettuce?” I chimed in, trying to push her buttons.
“My apologies, I doth meant Roman.”
“You just get weirder and weirder, Watson.”
“Anyway,” Miranda said trying to get us back on topic. “The autopsy came back on your third victim. C.O.D. was not from exsanguination as the M.E. originally stated at the scene.” She pulled out a high resolution photograph out of the folder. “Antemortum bruising on the neck shows that she was strangled by someone with their bare hands.” She pointed to the dark purple marks on the neck.
“Talk about hands on.” Then off all times my phone went off playing the theme from CSI: Miami. Both women gave me a raised eyebrow. “Talk about perfect timing,” I muttered.
“That’s dark,” Selene stated.
“Watson, if you’re going to be paired up with me, be prepared for a healthy dose of dark humor.” I handed back the photo, “What about the tox screen?”
“We found traces of alcohol and chloroform,” Miranda continued.
“Well that makes sense. Based on the state that the body was in when we found it did you run a-?”
“Yes we did run a sexual assault kit, it came back positive.” I saw Selene turn a little green. “The lab boys are still determining whether it was from before, after, or during her death. We started a search in CODIS, no hits so far.”
“You said that you had evidence that would lead to a killer, all you’ve given me is how victim number three died and that she was drugged.”
“Then you’d know that your two female victims were roommates, correct?”
“Yes, I knew that before I took a nice little siesta earlier today.”
“Well according to my boys, and girls; your male vic was aggravated with the first female vic and killed her with a stray power cord after hitting her with the trophy. As he cleaned himself off the second female vic walked in on him trying to clean up the scene. He tried to attack her and she shot him right through the head with one shot.”
“Ok so male kills female number one. Female number two kills male out of self-defense, then what? She ran away?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Well she was drugged so either she was grabbed immediately after shooting our male vic, or she was on her way home after fleeing the scene and was grabbed there.”
“We didn’t find any significant blood pooling at the scene,” Selene chimed in.
“Which means that she was killed elsewhere and brought back to her apartment to be displayed for someone to find,” I added.
“So the question becomes: who was it meant for?” Miranda asked. “But I suppose that’s YOUR side of the fence.” She handed over the file to me, which I handed to Selene. “The address for Ms. Yang’s next of kin is in there, they’re on the other side of town.”
“Thanks,” I said as I started to walk away. “Oh, did you ever find out what that crystal was in the wounds?”
“You and the coroner were right, it was sea salt.”
“So she was tortured,” it wasn’t a question, but a statement.
***
‘The doctors tell me that telling you what’s going on with you may help bring you out,’ a female voice said. For some reason she sounded so familiar. ‘They say you had a pulmonary embolism shortly after crossing over. From the explosion.’
“What do you mean ‘crossing over’?” I asked the bodiless voice.
She just kept going. ‘When you landed you broke a rib that punctured your lung, which started filling with blood. You were also hit with several bullets.’ She sounded like she was going to have a nervous breakdown right then and there. ‘But the medic was able to keep you from drowning in your own blood, so there’s that.’
“What the hell are you talking about?!?” I yelled into the darkness.
‘You started to go into shock from blood loss. The only way to save you was to try a risky procedure and you reacted badly to that, causing you to slip into a deep coma.’
Well she’s not going to stop. ‘Well you’re mostly healed up now, but you had pretty much every major bone broken, fractured, or dislocated. A shard of metal from the device was embedded in your spinal column; the doctors don’t even know if you’ll walk again if it damaged anything major other than the vertebrae.’ Wait… she’s talking about me? But I feel fine.
I heard some shifting, ‘I really wish you’d wake up soon. My parents are dying to meet you, well not literally dying. That was a poor choice of words on my part.’ Yeah, it was. ‘I’d hate to leave you now, but I have to go back to work. Back to the joyful world of over a year’s worth of paperwork.’ She got up and it sounded like she left a kiss on some exposed skin, I wouldn’t know where though since I didn’t feel it. ‘I love you,’ she said before footfalls were made walking away.
“Andrew!” a voice said from behind me. I turned around to see the face of Selene and instead of floating in an endless black void I was back in my office.
“Yes?” I answered nonchalantly.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. What happened?”
I blinked a few times, “Nothing, I must’ve just gotten lost in my train of thought that I didn’t even see or hear you.”
“Are you sure, you looked pretty out of it?” she insisted.
“Yeah, so what were you trying to tell me?”
“Ms. Yang’s next of kin is in the conference room.”
“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll go interview them shortly,” I said while grabbing my mug, I’m going to need a big ‘ol cup of Joe to get through the next few hours.
***
I looked through the window into the conference room. Inside was an Asian couple, by my guess I’d say in their fifties. They looked distraught, but then again how would anyone look learning that their child died? I took two coffee mugs filled with coffee and entered the room. I set the mugs in front of them and took my seat at the other end of the table.
“I figured you’d want something to drink, unfortunately we don’t have anything stronger than coffee in this joint,” I half-joked, hinting at liquor.
“Thank you,” the father replied while the mother started drinking. “I assume that your department called us here to-.”
“Yes, to tell you that your daughter’s body was found yesterday in her apartment. Murdered. I'm sorry for your loss.”
Both parents looked at me in shock. “But… who would do such a thing to our daughter?” the mother asked.
“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me. Did she have any enemies, anyone who would want to hurt her?”
“No, there’s no one. She is, was a sweet girl,” the mother said.
“Ok, how about any disgruntled boyfriends or co-workers? ANYONE who would hold a grudge against her.”
They sat there a long time, thoughts running through their minds as they thought for anything that I could use to find the killer.
“She did say something about someone creeping about the apartment a month ago,” the father stated.
“Ok, now we’re getting somewhere. Did she say anything else about this ‘creeper’?”
“Well she mentioned about a week or two ago her house had a break in and though nothing was stolen, her underwear drawer was rooted through,” the mother said.
‘Do you have a cigar? If I’m going to do this crazy ass idea, I’d rather look like Sargent Johnson chomping on a cigar.’
“Detective?”
‘No, Andrew. Don’t do this,’ a female voice said.
‘We both know it’s the only way. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.’
“Detective?” the voice said again.
‘I promise to make my way back to you.’
‘Don’t make a girl a promise you probably can’t keep,’ she said sadly before planting a kiss on my lips.
“Detective!”
My attention snapped back to the couple in the room. “Sorry about that folks. I do believe that the information you’ve given me will help in the ongoing investigation.” I pulled out a business card, “If you have any other information for me, go ahead and call that number.”
‘I promise.’
I walked out back into the halls on the way back to my office. I dialed up Selene, “Hey I need you to check a B&E report for the address of our deceased.”
“Anything specific you’re looking for?” she asked.
“At this point, give me everything and bring it to my office.”
‘Captain, let me do it,’ a young male said.
‘There isn’t time, kid. You have one last order from me: make sure she gets through. I’ll cover you, as soon as the bullets start flying, run.’
“Sir, are you ok?” one of the officers on desk duty asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied while rubbing my temples. “I just need an aspirin or something.” I walked into my office and inside was Selene.
“Hey boss, I got the B&E report- you look like shit. Are you sure you’re ok?” she asked.
“What is it with everyone asking if I’m ok?” I asked sarcastically.
“Because you don’t. What’s going on?”
I have a feeling that she won’t let up. I sat down in my chair and Selene took the one in front of the desk. “Fine. I’ve been hearing and seeing shit that isn’t even there. First there was an image of me looking like some sort of… soldier in a reflection in that outer door from the third vic’s residence. Then I’ve been hearing what seems to be a conversation that only I can hear, a bunch of which involve a recurring woman.” I let out a sigh, “I don’t know, maybe it’s just the stress from the last few cases getting to me.”
“Maybe it’s not.” This snapped me out of every train of thought. “I can help you, if you want me to that is.”
“You?” I scoffed. “What could you do?”
“Well before I started here and graduated from the academy I was raised by my parents who ran a carnival-.”
“So you were a carney?”
“Yes. And as I was saying, I worked as part of it as a hypnotist. Later I discovered that I could actually help people remember things that they had thought forgotten using hypnosis.”
“What’s the catch? There always is one.”
“I have to inject you with a light sedative to make your mind more… compliant with things I’ll ask you to remember.”
“Light?”
“Just to help you relax, nothing more.”
I leaned back in my chair and sighed. This was getting annoying. Where the hell are these voices coming from? And more importantly, why does one of them sound a striking resemblance of mine? “Are you sure that this will help?” I ask not only skeptically but hopeful as well.
“I’ll do everything within my power to help.”
***
I was laying down on my couch in my office an hour later. I’m so lucky I sprung for the one that was comfortable; it makes the naps I take on cases I work overnight that much more relaxing. My shirt sleeve was already rolled up and Selene was standing next to me, a syringe in her hand.
“And you’re sure that’s a ‘light’ sedative?” I asked, yet again skeptical.
“For the last time, yes. Now do you want to do this or not?” she asked.
I sighed. “Not really, but it sort of has to be done. Hit me.” She nodded and I closed my eyes only to feel a small gauge needle enter my arm. Soon after my arm started to get numb. The fist I had been holding started to relax. A few more minutes passed and though I was still in control of my body, and I still had some feeling, I did feel relaxed.
“Now I want you to keep your eyes closed.” I only nodded. “I want you to imagine you’re floating in a warm pool, the warmth entering your body, your mind.” Though my suit coat was off and the air conditioner was running I felt as though I was in a warm bath, sans being naked. “Now I want you to remember back to when these figments of your imagination started appearing.”
“I’m at the front door of the victim’s residence.” In my mind the scene drew itself before me, “When I looked in the reflection of the glass door I saw myself, but not myself.”
“Please elaborate.”
The image became sharper as some details behind the other me were in focus now. “I look as though I’m dressed for war, younger though. Combat armor, an assault rifle, two pistols, and a few forty millimeter grenades. The pattern on the uniform is white based.”
“Is there anything else about this other you?”
“He, I, looks sad and concerned.” I could see it in ‘my’ expression.
“Do you know the reason why?”
“No.”
She sighed as it sounded like she was taking notes based on the pen scratches. That or she was doing paperwork. “Ok, let’s try something different: can you tell me what the background looks like? Is it different or the same, and how?”
“It’s different,” I replied while looking at the scenery behind ‘me.’ “It’s all white out, maybe after a snowfall?” I looked and saw a burned-out building. “A building has smoke rising from it, sort of like a hangar.”
“Anything else?”
“There seems to be a large hunk of metal, maybe it’s a vehicle of some kind?” I approached the window, time stood at that moment as I approached the reflection. I looked at the blob harder until a recognizable shape came. “It’s an Abrams, or similar tank. I think.”
“Good, good. Now I want you to focus on the woman you mentioned a while back. Focus on her voice.”
“But what good will that do?” I asked. “I don’t even know what she looks like.”
“Just trust me. Focus on her voice, what she sounds like. Inflections in her voice. Things that make her unique from any other person.” As I remembered the ethereal conversation I did as she said. “Now I want you to imagine a face, hair color and style, and anything specifically unique about her physiology.” Slowly a flesh colored blob started to take form into a nude model before clothing covered ‘her’ body. “Now what do you see?”
“A woman. Mid to late twenties. Red hair with yellow highlights tied back into a ponytail. Slim athletic physique. And…” I paused. I had no idea how exactly to say what’s next.
“And what?”
“I’m not quite sure how to say this without sounding insane.”
“Don’t worry,” Selene reassured me. “There is no wrong answer.”
“She has wings, the shade of orange is sort of what you would think a Dreamcicle is colored like.”
“Anything else about her?”
“She seems important to me, but I don’t know why. Hell, I don’t even know her name,” I sighed.
“Don’t focus on the name right now. Something happened three months ago, what was it?”
“There was an explosion in the warehouse district. Samantha and I were conducting a raid with ATF agents to take down a synthetic drug ring that had set up shop. A bullet from a suspect’s gun hit a propane tank and caused the building to go up. There was an explosion and I ended up with a concussion, but-.” I paused, “Sam ended up in a coma from her trauma.”
Selene listed as it sounded like she was taking more notes. “That’s what you THINK happened. Now I want you to really dig down in your own subconscious and find out what happened, what REALLY happened.”
I thought back to the day that the bust had happened. But something was off, I couldn’t remember anything specific from a few hours before the bust but I could remember everything significant down the last detail afterwards up to today. The next thing I knew the only thing I could see in my mind was darkness, and a small pure white bubble floating in the darkness. Like the Magelight spell from Skyrim.
I walked forward and tried to pop it with my fingernail. Instead of popping it instead sucked me into it. The only thing I saw next was darkness. I heard a beep as well.
***
I felt pain everywhere. Primarily in my back where the wing joints join the scapula. Oh my God I’ve become Carl from Jimmy Neutron. And with that my eyes snapped open to see a cloudy sky and on the ground was a good foot or so of snow. The trees around me were covered in it, sans some broken branches. They must have snapped when I landed on them. Wait… shouldn’t falling from 35,000 feet kill me if I was traveling at terminal velocity with no parachute?
I sat up and took ‘inventory’ of my person. Arms and legs, check. Head, check; well I’m alive so yeah that’d better be a ‘check.’ Bleeding out, nada. Wings, hurt like hell. I probably dislocated them. Or broke them in several places, regardless of the condition one thing remains the same: I’m going to be walking a long-ass way. I stood up, using a tree for support as my sense of balance started to come back.
I around and saw a plume of smoke rising from the north and a much smaller one from the south. Based on the fact that I was ripped out of a plane by an explosion and the plane kept flying for a bit, I’m going to assume that the smaller plume is the burning wreckage of the tail section and any fragments and the larger one is the rest of the plane.
I checked to see what else made the fall along with me. My MP-412 was still in my leg holster, fully loaded. There was a knife hilt buried in the snow, a good foot or two from the form of where my body landed. I pulled it out and saw that it was my survival knife. It still has its tanto point, and though I’m not going to test it on myself, sharp as hell. However as I looked around I saw nothing else around the area of my landing. Looks like a rifle or semi-auto pistol didn’t manage to luckily fall out as well. My vest was still attached to my person, even though one section of it was cut clean through, nothing a little duct tape won’t fix. At least I had something rather than nothing.
I sheathed the knife and pulled out my revolver. Just out of a minor bit of OCD I checked to see that the rounds were all loaded and closed the breach. You never know what’s out there in these woodlands anyway.
***
An hour. A full hour of walking in knee deep snow and I was finally at the wreck. You’d think that I’d run, well that’s pretty hard in fucking snow. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if I was frostbitten. Yeah I’ve got some primo winter gear on, but even the best stuff only works for a certain amount of time before the cold starts to get at you. Regardless to the fact you have ‘magical’ insulation against it.
As the wreck came into view I saw that the wings got sheared off, most likely from the impact. I’m really hoping the Spits and the rest of them made it out of there alive. The wreck wasn’t burning anymore, but the engines were still smoking. As I crawled through the wreck there wasn’t a body in sight. I sighed in relief, they made it out. I went up to the cockpit and saw one of the pilots wasn’t so lucky during the crash. Someone had already tended to his body and had it laid out in a respectful way.
I saw that a radio and a sidearm was still on his person, “Sorry. I should let your body rest in peace, but maybe you can help me even after death,” I muttered. I grabbed the radio from his body and turned it on. “Hello? Anyone on this channel?” There was nothing but static. “Is there anyone on this channel? This is Captain Andrew Briggs, is there anyone listening?”
More static came through the radio. I slumped down to the floor of the cargo bay and let the radio roll right out of my hands. Great, everyone’s gone and I have no idea where they went or where to go exactly.
“He--o?” a voice said. The radio crackling as though they were just in range of the radio. “Is ----ne th-re?”
I scrambled for the radio and hit the ‘transmit’ button. “Yes, this is Captain Briggs. Who is this?”
“Briggs?” the signal sounded like it was getting clearer now. “Sweet mother of Christ! How are you still alive?”
“Jones?!? Did everyone else make it out? Is Spitfire ok?” I rapid-fired the questions off.
“Slow down, captain. We’re fine and so is wifey,” he replied. I sighed in relief. “Where are you at?”
“I should be asking you that. I’m at the wreck, what’s your current position?” I asked as I made my way to the back of the plane I saw an M16A4 and picked it up. I pulled back the bolt and saw that it had a round sitting in the magazine. I ejected said magazine and found I had a full thirty rounds to use. I replaced it and loaded a round before checking to see that the rifle was ‘safe.’
I slung the rifle over my shoulder and kept the Beretta in my hand, the radio in the other, as I walked outside of the plane. “We’re a good six kilometers north-northeast of your position, heading towards the staging facility.”
I looked at my watch, “Alright you guys have a have a good hour or so head start on me. I’ll meet you guys at the facility but it might take me a bit longer, my wings got a little messed up when I landed.”
“Do you want us to double back for you?”
“Not unless you want to be carrying my sorry ass all the way to the base to make up for lost time. Listen the portal is going to open exactly at midnight and Spitfire needs to be there when it opens. If I double time it I should meet up with you guys in an hour or two.”
“Alright, ten-four on that, captain. We’ll see you shortly.”
“Just stay safe,” came Spits’ voice from the radio.
“Don’t worry, I will,” I replied.
***
I was right about how long it would take to meet up with the rest of the ‘gang.’ It was about an hour and a half of doubled waddling through knee-high snow. We took a ten minute breather to speculate about what happened.
“It was the fucking ChiComs,” Jones said. “No offense Natalie.”
“My family emigrated here during the Gold Rush, no offense taken,” she replied. “I personally think it was the North Koreans, they’ve been threatening war for a long time with us, their southern neighbors, and Japan. Maybe they finally nutted up.”
“My money’s on the Ruskies,” I chimed in. They gave me the ‘look’ for picking the cliched enemy. “Well if you look at it socioeconomically, Putin’s been trying to rebuild the old USSR back to its old glory for the last decade or so. Add in the fact that they’ve been forming up troops over on the other side of the Bering Strait for the last few months in preparation for SOMETHING and that gives us my guess.”
“So how’d you make it out alive?” Jones asked after a long silence. After all it was the question on everyone’s mind.
I remembered back a few hours. “I have no idea. One moment I was sucked out of the plane from explosive decompression, falling to my certain death; the next thing I knew I hit something and was knocked out. When I woke up I was just as shocked as you are now.” I let out a sigh after taking a drink of water. “To be honest I have no idea what happened.”
“I’m just glad that you’re alive,” Spitfire said scooting as close as she could to me, clinging onto my arm. The other pilot was silent, perhaps silently mourning over his co-pilot? “Alright ladies and gents, we have an appointment to keep, so let’s keep moving.” I walked over Lang, who happened to have a GPS unit. “So, how much further until we reach the base, corporal?”
“Based on what I see here as our current position here,” she pointed to a dot on the display. “I’d say we have about fifty miles yet to go.”
“What I wouldn’t give for a few snowmobiles right now,” I muttered. “Do you think we’ll reach it in time?”
“If we can speed up our pace, yes. But if we’re slowed down in any way there’s no way we can make the deadline.” She could see the disappointment in my facial expression. “What’s crazy is that there isn’t any chatter on the radio except for us, nor has there been any attempt at rescuing us.”
“You’re right, that is odd.” I turned to the pilot, “You managed to get a distress call off, right?”
“Yes, sir. I did. I even said that we were heading towards the base,” he replied.
I turned back to the corporal, “Very odd indeed. They try to get a rescue crew out as fast as they can, especially considering that there was a VIP on board.” I turned around and faced my group of six. “Alright everyone, grab your gear and be ready to head out. Make sure your weapons are loaded as well. Take inventory of how many rounds we approximately have.”
“Expecting trouble, captain?” Jones asked.
“Hopefully not. But’s it’s better to be safe than dead,” I replied taking a drum magazine and placing it into the receiver of my rifle. I placed the still full thirty round magazine in my vest. A few minutes later, everyone was ready to go.
***
We kept walking through the snow. It was about two in the afternoon when we met up, meaning we only had ten hours at the time before the portal opened. Have you ever walked outside in sub-zero weather? It’s cold, isn’t it? Now imagine walking in that for a good eight hours. Yeah, it’s not that pleasant sounding, is it? Because it’s not. And at night? May God have mercy on your soul.
We walked over hills of ice and snow in the moonlight night. I’m just glad that there’s not a blizzard going on out here. Spits and I would be fine, Jones would have a bit of trouble, Lang would be able to generate a heat field around her body, but the only one that would possibly have an issue would be the pilot since he is your average run of the mill human. Corporal Lang is even keeping him alive by extending her ‘personal space heater’ over to him. Had it been any colder and she wouldn’t be able to manage both of them.
When we got to the outer edge of the facility’s grounds something pinged me as off. First was the lack of air vehicle activity searching for a downed plane. Second was it was quiet, too quiet. If you were an outside observer you’d say something like ‘all’s calm before the storm.’ Next was the radio, there was static on every band for the last few hours, it cut out shortly after I had met up with the rest of the survivors of the crash. Everything was becoming extremely suspicious real fast.
“Stay sharp, something feels way off,” I said to the group. They all nodded in return, keeping a firm grip on their weapons.
We proceeded to walk along the main road to the guardhouse. Inside was a guard watching tv, his head was slumped over, like he had nodded off. Someone was going to get reprimanded over this. I knocked on the window to get his attention, “Hello, anyone home?” I asked hoping to get his attention. He didn’t stir at all. “Listen buddy, we’ve been hiking through knee deep snow for the last eight hours after crash landing.” I stepped inside the guardhouse and walked right up to the man. “Listen, I don’t want this to sound like I’m telling you how to do your job, but you shouldn’t be…” I trailed as I saw a crimson stain on the wall opposite of the door. “…sleeping on the job,” I slowly said.
I stepped back outside with a worried look painted on me. “Sir, is something wrong?” Lang asked.
“Yeah, our friend in the guardhouse is a stiff; which means-.”
“That the base has been compromised,” Spits finished, her eyes wide in fear.
“Precisely.” I hefted my rifle to a more readied position. “Let’s move out, people.”
***
Have you ever wondered how you got into a situation? As in the specific events that lead you up to a focal point in which everything converges? Well I was having one right now. How so? Being in a firefight in a hangar that contained an open anchor point for a portal, a currently unstable fusion reactor, a ragtag group of soldiers; oh, and did I forget to mention the other guys shooting at us? Well there’s that. Believe it or not it all started thirty minutes ago.
Thirty minutes prior…
We approached the main installation as quietly as a group of people could in the dead of night. I looked over to the main building and all the lights were off. You’d think for a black-site research base there’d be armed guards patrolling every second of the day. We approached the barracks and at the door I gave a hand signal to stop. I pulled out my knife and slid it under the door, using the reflective blade as an improvised mirror.
“What is it, boss?” Jones asked in a whisper
Under I saw no signs of light. “Nothing, and that’s what scares me,” I replied in the same hushed tone. I sheathed the knife and slowly opened the door, which gave the slightest of *creaks*. “Clear the rooms, quietly.”
“And if we find anyone?” Lang asked as I handed the deceased pilot’s sidearm to Spits.
“Find out what’s going on.” With a curt nod they lifted their weapons should fate decide that they need to be used. We swept room to room but eerily enough there was no one in the beds nor up doing something. This was adding up to something being VERY wrong.
That’s when I came across the first body. The poor soul was still in his bunk, a medium caliber bullet wound in his head, execution style. Then there was the second, found by Lang. This one was shot multiple times with a relatively tight grouping. Based on the amount I would say either a submachine gun or an automatic rifle. After searching all of the rooms we met back in the hallway.
“What’d you guys find?” I asked, though I was already sure what their answers were going to be.
“Dead bodies. Either in their beds or killed without a fight,” the pilot replied.
“Same here,” Jones added.
“Same,” Spits also added, though she was sickened to say it. I knew she never had to kill another human before while with her team, mainly because they were their world’s equivalent of the Blue Angels, except never having to fight in a war as of recent.
“Alright. I’ll see if I can get a signal back to fifty-one and give them a ‘we’re not dead, but these other guys are’ report.” I tried my radio but there was only pure silence. “Or not,” I muttered. I sighed, “Alright let’s just clear-.” I was cut off by a rifle being shot close by, but not in the same building. “Belay that, suspicious gunshots come first.”
We quickly, yet quietly, to where the sound came from. We heard another shot, this time coming from one of the hangars. We stacked up at the opened door, there were several inside.
“What is this?” a heavily accented man asked a kneeling airman while pointing to the device, a gun held by his compatriot at the airman's head.
“I don't know what you’re talking about! I just work here as a day guard,” he pleaded.
“Kill him, he is of no use to us,” he muttered to the armed man.
“Da, ser,” he said before pulling the trigger, the pleas of the airman ignored.
“Well that confirms my Russian theory,” I muttered.
“Jesus,” the pilot said before pantomiming a cross on his torso. I’d be willing to bet he’s a devout Catholic.
“What do we do now?” Spits asked. “They have the entire area secured, AND the portal device is over there. We only have twenty-five minutes before it opens.”
I looked around and outside I saw a few HMMV’s, all with mounted guns. “I think I have a plan,” I said to the group, their ears perking up.
***
I looked over to the vehicle lot to see Jones in the front seats of a HMMV and the pilot barely sticking his head out of the gunner’s seat. I looked over to Lang and Spits and saw that they were finishing liberating some C4 charges from the armory. They finished up and silently ran over to me, stacking up on the other door, ready to burst in.
“All set?” I whispered. They nodded in response. I peeked into the room and saw that the Russian had killed another and was now interrogating a scientist. I held up five fingers and lowered one each second until it formed a fist. When I did Lang threw several flash and stun grenades into the room, using her psychokinetic powers, and Jones started up the HMMV’s engine and gunned it for the doors.
As soon as the Russians heard the vehicle’s roaring engine they all turned around only to see several bright-as-the-sun flashes appear before their eyes and jet engine level volumes assaulting their ears. The HMMV burst through the doors with us following behind it as a mobile cover source. The pops of small arms fire echoed as we took down all those who presented themselves as a threat. In less than a minute all but one of the Russians were dead.
“Thanks for the save, we were pretty sure we were done for,” the scientist said as Lang cut off the restraints.
“I know it sort of sounds cliché, but what happened?” I asked.
“A few hours ago we got run over by those guys. We were expecting some people from down south to witness an experiment taking place in a bit.”
“Well that’s us,” Jones commented.
“What happened to you guys? We were expecting you hours ago.”
“Well I can only hazard a guess, but I’m positive that our dead Ruskie friends here have something to do with it,” I answered.
“Hey guys,” Spits said, getting our attention. “Didn’t this seem a little too easy?”
And at that moment all time stood still as we all turned to look at her. Then we heard shouting in Russian coming from outside the hangar. “Get to cover!”
***
My eyes snapped open to see Selene walking away from me in a hurried pace. I got up and went after her. I grabbed her wrist, which stopped her in her place.
“Let go,” she said, almost snarling.
“No because I think you owe me some answers. First of all: what the hell is going on?”
She sighed impatiently, “Your kidneys are failing.”
My pupils dilated in fear, “What are you talking about? I'm perfectly fine.”
She shook her head, “No, you’re not.” I raised an eyebrow Teal’c style. “Shortly after where I cut your memories off at you got injured, badly. From what I saw on your charts it didn’t look good. Frankly the doctors didn't think you’d survive the night, let alone three months.”
I paused for a moment, “Hold on, let me get this straight: I’ve been in a coma for three months and NOW I’m having kidney problems?”
She nodded, “That is correct.”
“Well don’t keep me waiting, the suspense is killing me. No pun intended.”
“How rude!” she exclaimed.
“Well pardon me, princess; but the last time I checked you weren’t the one whose life was on the line.”
“‘Tis fine, this one time. Back in the Old Age talking back to Royalty would earn you either a trip to the dungeon or the executioner’s block.”
“Sounds like a fun place to run.”
“If only that could be brought back for whiny nobles it would be so much better,” she mused with a smile before her face turned sad. “When you arrived with Spitfire and the others, you were in bad shape. From what I read in the chart there were multiple gunshot wounds, a piece of shrapnel embedded in the lower portion of your spine, extensive head and other bodily injuries from when you hit the ground, and blood loss.
“Ms. Lang, along with the medics at the scene were able to keep you from bleeding out and choking to death using their magic to keep whatever blood that remained inside the circulatory system; however that didn’t solve the issue with the blood loss, you needed a transfusion. There was only one match to your type in the entire Crystal Empire.”
“Okay, but how does this relate to my kidneys shutting down?”
“Young people, so impatient,” she muttered. “We had to do something that hasn’t been done in almost a millennia,” I raised my eyebrow to that. “I’m getting to the point,” she sighed. “We had to use the blood of a Princess.”
“And this is bad, because...?” I trailed, cueing her to finish.
“Because most humans when transfused with Royal blood, even those with the exact same blood type tend to reject it and have an extreme adverse reaction to it.”
“And that's what happened to me?”
“Yes. You see, those who are gifted with the ability to harness and bend magic to their whim contain an enzyme in their kidneys that keeps magic from building up to toxic and potentially lethal levels by 'cleaning' it and distributing it through the body, allowing the Mage to use magic. Those who do not have this enzyme have their kidneys die on them.”
“And this is what is happening to me?”
“Indeed,” she simply replied.
“Well... shit,” I was only able to reply, trying to come to get a grasp on my own mortality. “Now what happens?”
“Now the doctors are going to perform a kidney transplant from a suitable donor. After all it is the only cure for Night Swirl’s Syndrome.” I raised my eyebrow again, but she caught on, “I shall explain it later when time is more plentiful.”
She turned to leave again, “Just one last question, who ARE you?”
A bright flash of light came from her, and when it dimmed in the place of a female detective stood a pale, yet fair skinned woman wearing a regal looking dark indigo dress with some cleavage, but not too much. It accented her curves without taking too much away from the imagination. In other words: modest. Her eyes were a teal-blue, they were further accented by her lipstick of the same color. Her long hair was just as stunning. It flowed in as though a non-existing wind were blowing, similar to how the hair of the character ‘Ember’ did on the show Danny Phantom; just getting a glimpse of it, it looked as though the stars themselves were embedded in it. Her arms had the tell-tale signs of a mage, her markings bearing the same color as her eyes, but slim as though they were drawn pencil thin yet intricate looking. On her head was an obsidian crown, and peeking out from her back was a pair of midnight blue wings.
“My name is Princess Luna; bringer of the night sky, cartographer of the stars, and protector of dreams. Art thou done staring at me?” she asked impatiently.
I blinked a few times, “Sorry, it’s just that the description Spitfire gave me doesn’t do you justice.”
She seemed to blush at my flattering statement. “I thank thee for thine complement, but time is short. I bid thee farewell.” She then disappeared in a flash, leaving me alone in an empty police station.
“Did I just hit on her?” I shook my head before taking a seat, “Nah, it was just a harmless compliment. Now... what to do, what to do?” I asked the empty room for ideas. I looked over to the wall and saw a CO2 extinguisher and nearby was a wheeled office chair. I looked to my left, then to my right. I think a little fun might be in order.
***
I don’t know where or how, but somewhere during the second lap around the work area I blacked out. When I woke up though the ‘station’ was still empty except for me, myself, and I. “Ugh, what happened last night?” It felt as though I had a throbbing hangover.
There was a flash of light in front of me, and there was Princess Luna herself. She looked happy to say the least. “Mr. Briggs! Wonderful news-! What happened here?”
I looked around to try and search for an answer, “Honestly I have no idea.” I stood up, dusting myself off, “So what’s this good news of which you speak?”
“The transplant was a success,” she said happily.
“Well seeing as though I don’t see Valkyries here to carry me to Valhalla, nor do I see the Pearly Gates of Heaven, or even seeing a bright light that I feel compelled to go towards I sure hope it did.” She gave me the stinkeye. “Don’t take it the wrong way, each of us has their own ways to deal with news. Considering that I’m still in a false police station but still alive; I’m trying to see the bright side of this, I really am.”
“You certainly have an interesting… view of things,” she replied with a cough.
“What about the other party, how are they doing?”
“Fine, she woke up not too long ago. Her husband was still not too pleased that she volunteered.”
“I imagine. ‘Oh honey! I’m going to give an internal organ to a guy that I don’t even know’,” I mimed in a falsetto voice. “Yeah I bet that went over well,” I chuckled.
“It took her some convincing on behalf of your wife, but he came around eventually.” We sat down and she summoned two ice cold beer bottles. Unfortunately I wouldn’t be able to get drunk since this was a dream at most.
“So, what now?” I asked as I took a drink. For dream beer it tastes quite good.
“Well, now that the transplanted kidney has been successfully ‘installed,’ it will start to filter out all of the excess magic out of your system. After all that’s what’ll cure Night Swirl’s Syndrome.”
“Who is this Night Swirl anyway?”
“She was the daughter of a dear friend. He discovered the disorder in his daughter when she came of age to start exhibiting signs to start mastering magic. She fell into a coma and since we didn’t have organ transplants back then he slowly watched his daughter die before his eyes. He spend a few decades of his life trying to find a cure so no one else would have to suffer like he did,” she finished.
“Sounds like an honorable guy. What happened to him?”
“He died of old age, he had several more children to carry on his legacy. One direct line still holds a minor, yet influential house in the Canterlot nobility. His theories in magic have been carried down and studied for generations, only recently has one of his last great mysteries been solved.”
“Not that that's not fascinating or anything, but I think the burning question at the backs of everyone's mind is: ‘How long until “Sleeping Beauty” wakes up’?”
“Of course. According to the doctor’s prognosis you shall awaken in the next forty-eight hours,” Luna replied somewhat joyfully.
“Finally!” I winced when I remembered that Luna was still in my mind. “Not that I didn’t enjoy your company or anything, but I sort if want to get back to the real world.”
“Of course. By the way, who was responsible for those murders? I could tell that they were based on reality and not conjured up by your mind.”
“Well since we have a good two days I figure I could fill you in, take a seat,” I said gesturing to a more comfortable seat. Or, well as comfortable you can make a seat inside your mind. “I'll mention this forthright, the original man who performed these acts was one sick, twisted bastard.” She nodded in acknowledging that. “It all started close to a year ago...” I then proceeded to explain what happened with the Slasher and vaguely hinted at his demise.
When I finished she slumped down in her seat, trying to comprehend how someone could be that malicious. “So is he-?”
“Dead?” She nodded. “Very much so. He won’t be hurting anyone anymore.”
There was a pregnant pause after that. Then one question that had been bugging me for a while came to mind. “You mentioned that ‘Royal’ blood hasn’t been used in a transfusion in almost a millennia, why make an exception now?”
Her face went from concerned to depressed in a flash. “The reason we don’t use Royal blood for anyone else other than Royals is because of an incident that occurred a few months before my ‘falling out’ with my sister a thousand years ago.”
“You can tell me what happened, what gets said in the brain stays in the brain.”
She smiled for a moment, “I see you paraphrased your Las Vegas’ catch phrase. Very well.” She sighed, “As Spitfire may have told you, a thousand years ago I was taken over by the entity known as Nightmare Moon because of the envy I had over my sister’s subjects because they loved her daytime more than my night; or at least that's what the general public knows. What only a select few know is what the tipping point was. Yes I was jealous of the popularity Tia’s day had, yet I was content with just one subject who would share in the wonders and pleasure of the night. Not carnal, mind you, but a willingness to ask questions. In that Age it was not common for folk to go against stated knowledge released by the Mages, since they were the scholars and their knowledge was supreme to the other races, so therefore everyone accepted it without question.”
“Sounds a lot like the Roman Catholic Church in the Dark Ages. What changed the status quo?”
“A man, a wonderful young man. I was no older than a high school girl of this Age at the time. Back then the populace didn't know that my sister and I controlled the moon’s orbit and the planet’s rotation. My sister was a few years older than me and we had just recently moved away from our birthplace, where our mother died less than a year earlier.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said solemnly.
“You weren’t responsible for it, were you?” she asked. I shook my head ‘no’. “Then there’s nothing to be sorry for. We met during the Council of Three, when the leaders of the Angels, Earthborn, and Mages met to make laws and treaties. Think of it as a very distorted version of your United Nations. This meeting happened to be the one told inside of the Hearth’s Warming Eve tales. While Tia was paying more attention to the meeting than I, I was wandering about the area outside of the building.
“As I was looking at some of the local wares, one of which was a white gold necklace of the waxing crescent moon,” she said as she pulled out the same necklace around her neck and looked at it longingly before putting it back. “When I pulled out my money to pay for it I was robbed at knife-point; I was going to use one of the defensive spells that my mother taught me when this young man, no older than me, beat the criminal up before giving me back my coin purse.”
“Brave, yet stupid,” I commented.
“That sounds like someone else we both know,” she countered with a smirk. “After the town’s guard patrol had locked up the would-be robber the young man and I exchanged names and hometowns. He had never heard of mine, which wasn’t shocking in the least. We chatted for a while and I learned that he wanted to be a soldier for as long as he could remember. Back then a person of his social status would only be used as a disposable foot soldier. Before we could talk more Tia showed up and dragged me away.
“Months passed and when word came that a new country had been formed on a new content, Tia and I sprung at the chance to make something of ourselves there. Back in the Old Country we were nothing more than two children who secretly took care of the day and night cycles. There was a mass exodus to the newly christened Equestria; the trip took weeks, but once we finally arrived and looked at the landscape we knew we made the right choice.”
“So how does this all connect?”
“I was just about to get to that,” she said with a huff. “The first year was rough, no one really had a clue what they were doing government-wise. My sister and I built a house in what is now the Everfree forest, but back then it didn’t have as many trees as it does today. We hunted and fished for our meals and traded with some merchants for produce, it was a simpler time. Eventually others found us and we built a community of a few dozen people of different races. For a while everything was wonderful, until HE happened.”
“Who is ‘he’?” I asked.
“Discord, the self-proclaimed god of chaos. He made everything, how do you say, not right.” I raised an eyebrow at that. “It’s hard to explain. Down was up, right was left, the clouds were cotton candy that rained down chocolate milk, pigs were flying, and so much more. The military established by Commander Hurricane was unable to combat him. He created monstrosities, chimera, to fight alongside him. Cockatrices, manticores, hydras, the timberwolves, and others. My sister and I tried to aid those fighting against him with our own power, but we too were defeated. We limped back to our home, depressed that our once wondrous and peaceful home was now a chaotic mess.
“We sat around for days, thinking of ways to best him; from paradoxes to full on charges, none of it worked. Eventually the one friend I made back in the Old Country came to our door one night, telling us of a tree made of stone which held six jewels. He said that when he tried to approach it, it repulsed him. My sister, my friend, and I set out the next morning where he led us to it. As we approached it time stood still and six entities spoke to us. They called themselves the ‘Elements of Harmony.’ Normally they would choose a host that best fit their respective element, however they made a unanimous decision to make an exception for us to deal with Discord.
“The rest of the confrontation goes as it is written in the stories, we confronted Discord and turned him to stone. The townspeople spread the word to the three magistrates of Equestria. They heard of the power that the Elements held, and our power in general. They stepped down from their seats of power and made us princesses, co-rulers of an entire country without hesitation. Shortly after that they built us a castle in the Everfree, in the same town that we had started. My friend gained his one life’s dream, to be a soldier. He was trained by the best of the best and was assigned to be my personal guard. Those were fun days, he and I would play pranks on Tia, and then she would try and get back at us. I fell for him, and he fell for me.
“Then Sombra happened. We went to the north to where we are standing now, the Crystal Empire. Sombra was rumored to be the half-brother of Princess Platinum who ran off shortly after the Council of Three Magistrates was formed in Equestria. He abducted countless subjects and used them as slaves to build his empire. He put them under a mass hypnosis making them think that he had their best interests in mind, so they went along willingly with his tyrannical rule. Somehow, no one has quite figured out how, but he came across an extremely powerful artifact now known as the Crystal Heart. Some speculate that he forced the Crystalline he enslaved to create it; others say he found it in ancient ruins. When he tried to use it to expand his empire into Equestria my sister and went to peacefully intervene.
“When we arrived with a small escort force we were ambushed by Sombra and his slave army, we managed to retreat, but at a cost. Most of the escort party died defending us, only a few survived the trip back to the frontier settlement, one of whom being my friend. He eventually went into shock from blood loss.”
“Like me,” I stated.
“Almost identically. I went into a rage seeing him like that. What happened next was a blur, even a thousand years later. I confronted him and used the darkest of magic to literally melt Sombra right on his throne. What we didn’t know was that he had two contingencies in place: first that if he were to die his spirit would be able to leave his body and roam on this plane of existence; the second being that the city and its inhabitants would disappear should he leave the city’s outermost boundaries for more than an hour. No one knew about these at the time. I sealed his spirit inside one of his own crystals and cast it into the deepest chasm in the nearby mountains.”
“Wait... how did you know to seal his soul in a gem,” I asked, sensing she had skipped over something vital.
“When his body and soul separated he was nothing more than a ghost of himself, unable to directly interact with the world.”
“He needed a host.”
She nodded and shivered, “He tried to take over my body. We wrestled for control for what seemed to be hours. Eventually I managed to gain enough control and grabbed a crystal and channeled his spirit into it, sealing him inside. When I was finished with him I returned to my sister and friend. Unbeknownst to me he had left me with a ‘parting’ gift, a curse. He made a fractured personality in my head, one that whispered half-truths, waiting for me to slip up that would allow it to take over my body. Starswirl theorized that as long as I kept a positive demeanor I could keep it at bay. It lasted only for a few days.”
“Your friend took a turn for the worse, didn’t he?” I asked.
Luna nodded again. Sadness filled her eyes, “I sat at his bedside, waiting for him to rouse from his slumber. Eventually I could feel it, as did the cleric attending him, his spirit was fading away. The voice in my head starting whispering to me, telling me to use my blood and inject it into him. It told me that he wouldn’t die if I did. I had heard of my mother speak of a procedure such as this back when I was younger, she said that would one succeed the patient would live. I injected him with my blood behind my sister’s and the attending cleric’s backs and returned to my place at his side.
“Hours passed and nothing had changed, eventually I fell asleep. I awakened when I felt someone poking me in the ribs, when I looked to see who it was it was none other than my friend, he was alive and well. We were ecstatic and cleric was convinced it was a miracle. That joy was short-lived however, he died the next day after falling into a coma. After that my sister banned the use of our blood for medical uses, save for our own. I fell into a deep depression and that evil personality started to take over more and more of my body until I was nothing more than an observer, watching as it called itself Nightmare Moon, and as it tried to kill the only family I had left.
“In a last-ditch effort I managed to take control just long enough for Tia to use the Elements on me, sending me to the moon.”
“Well that was a little harsh,” I commented, attempting to even comprehend being on the moon’s surface without spacesuit.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, do they not?” she asked, bringing to mind the Halo 3: ODST ViDoc when Buck said a similar phrase. “If it is of any comfort to you, she transported an armchair and a large chunk of our library to keep me company. The Nightmare receded into my consciousness, biding its time, leaving me in control again.”
“Wait, so how did you breathe in the airlessness of space? Last time I checked it was a vacuum.”
“The Elements created a pocket of self-renewing oxygen. Though while the judgment if the Elements may be seen as harsh, they exist to preserve life, even of those who erred.”
“Makes sense. So how does this all correspond with my ‘condition’?” I asked.
“Upon my return I was made aware of my niece, Princess Mi Amoré de Cadenza, more informally known as Cadence, an Angel by birth, had Ascended after understanding the magic of love-” Must... not... make... joke... “-similarly how Twilight recently Ascended after understanding the magic of friendship. At the time I thought nothing of it other than her being family. Fast forward to recent events and the only person with the same blood type near the Crystal Empire was in fact Twilight.”
“But didn't you just say that Royal blood was toxic to anyone who wasn’t?”
“I figured since Twilight had recently Ascended the magics unique to us would still be at a low level, considering that she has yet to be trained to use such powers, save for her wings by her friend Ms. Dash. We didn’t have enough time, nor the magic to teleport to all the different hospitals hoping that they would have your type in stock with an amount that would be adequate for your survival. I gave the suggestion to the head physician who then presented it to Twilight and your wife. Twilight was a little nervous.”
“Trypanophobia?” I asked. This only got me a blank look, “The fear of needles. To be fair that phobia has nothing on hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia, the fear of long words.” I was given another blank look. “The internet is full of useless information to spout out.”
“I’ll take your word for it. But yes, she is sort of squeamish when it comes to needles. Once Twilight agreed, your wife was briefed on the dangers of using Royal blood; she said that in your living will that should you be hospitalized every avenue should be explored before ‘throwing in the towel’.”
“Yeah that sounds like something I would write in an official legal document,” I commented. “So-,” I drummed my fingers on the desk in a way a bored person would, “is that all she wrote?”
“Indeed it is, so ends the tale of your sickness. I shall leave now, you will awaken once your body deems it proper. Fare thee well,” she said before disappearing in that white flash that still left spots in my vision, regardless to the fact it was all in my head. The world started to melt away, like that Salvador Dali clock painting. Then ambient sound faded to nothing. I was floating in a sea of blackness before I knew it. There was even a soft beeping sound; someone needs to turn off their alarm clock.
***
It’s hard to say what it feels like to come out of a coma. It sort of feels like your brain is doing a power cycle. The first thing that came back first was my hearing. I could hear the quiet beeping of an EKG and what sounded like a respirator. Next came smell, yeah the smell of antiseptic definitely confirms that I’m in a hospital. Well my mouth tastes like rubber and plastic, sounds to me like I was intubated at one point. Next touch decided to join the party, I could feel a warm presence holding my hand. I slowly opened my eyes to a darkened room, they must’ve figured that a bright room would blind me.
My head turned slightly to the right and I saw an abundance of ‘get well soon’ cards, some looked older than others. There were a few balloons hanging off of one of those weighted decorative centerpieces in the middle of the cards. Someone had even gone through the trouble of baking an entire platter of cupcakes with a note taped to it saying ‘for when you wake up.’ Well it might be a little longer than the gifter thinks, since they have to get me on solid food again considering that the taste in my mouth is still there, and it feels like a feeding tube. I looked over to my right and there laying down, her red hair splayed out on the bed, was a woman her hand holding mine. I tried to move my hand, but was only able to make it twitch a little.
She started to stir a bit but settled back down to sleep again. I tried again and attempted to say “Hey” but only got out a zombie-like groan. She woke up almost immediately. “Andrew?” she asked through a sleep fueled haze. I gave her another hand squeeze as well as another groan. Her face lit up in elation. “Hold on, I’ll be right back,” she said right before she bolted out of the room. I could hear, “Nurse, get the doctor! He’s awake!”
Less than a minute later the red-haired woman, a doctor, and a nurse came into the room. “Hold on for a second, Mr. Briggs, we’ll have that tube out of you in a jiffy,” the doctor said. The nurse with pink hair removed the tube with me gagging and coughing in tow. My throat felt like the Sahara desert shortly after a sandstorm.
“Water,” I managed to croak out. The nurse immediately went to the sink and filled a glass with water and returned bringing the glass to my lips allowing the life bringing fluid to pour down my throat.
“How are you feeling?” the doctor asked.
Time to be blunt, “Like I got hit by semi. Did anyone get the license plate?”
“Well you are lucky to be alive, sir,” the nurse chimed in. “If it weren’t for the Princesses we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
The redhead grabbed my hand again, tears in her eyes. Tears of joy, “I thought I lost you, but you’re back now. Everything’s going to be ok.”
Something was bugging me, just at the base of my skull. “I do have one question,” I said.
“Of course. What is it, babe?”
“Who are you again?” I asked. The doctor and nurse stopped their tasks and looked at me, the redhead froze up entirely. The room was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.
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YOU SON OF A BITCH, WHY ARE YOU FUCKIGN WITH MY EMOTIONS, I hate you, But i love you for making me feels this way. It has been a long time since i have had emotions from just reading a story. Have a mustache
4506418 as the writer that's kind of my job to mess with you guys lol. And thanks for the mustaches.
and wow...
that was... one interesting chapter.
4506878 blame sleeplessness, energy drinks I got free from work, and distractions like Watch Dogs and Transistor (BTW, fun games).
Wait this chapter confuses me who was lang again and is spifire and andrew now in equestria this chapter messed with me because it jumped all over the place and more questions were raised but that is stuff that multiple readings should clear up thouh my biggest concern is the russians i mean really was there no other options lime the chinese or the koreans it feels a little generic to use the russians but your story your ideas still kept me glued to it so the quality has not gone down and i look forwarx to the next chapter
4509238 yeah I know it was a little cliché to use the Russians, but the only reason was because of current events, if it weren't for the whole Crimea mess I would have gone with the NK's or Chinese; talk about events of today changing details in the story. I am glad that I'm keeping you interested at least. I do promise that things will be explained in future chapters (primarily when I have all the details fleshed out) concerning confusing details.
4508011
y do you have to taunt me with watchdogs....
I want it, but am too skint to get it 
4509715 I know the feeling, especially when I was unemployed for a few months. But it's fun, you'll enjoy it.