Ficlet: Sleuthing
Aug. 2nd, 2009 04:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanTitle: Sleuthing
Fandom/original: original
Rating: PG-13
A/N: The first of my vacation prompts for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rougen. This one was "decoration."
The low, steady thrumming of the electrical transformers made it feel like the entire building was sleeping, a giant lost in a steady rhythm of breath and dreams. Katiya felt both oddly reassured and unnerved. She moved through the halls, the collar of her leather jacket raised against the cellar’s cool damp. Behind her, Blackstone and Cooper stuck close. She could feel Blackstone getting edgy, and shot him a quick look over her shoulder. He looked guilty, but nodded.
They weren’t here on the books, of course, but Arthur had a few contacts left. Fewer still who knew about Katiya and her people, so she couldn’t help but figure whatever it was had to be serious.
They’d probably pitch a fit, if they knew she’d just come down here. Chain of evidence blah blah blah. You didn’t call a werewolf when you wanted to do things by the book.
When they got there, she could see why they’d gotten that desperate.
The smell hit first, rank and rotting. Flesh and blood, human. It wasn’t until they could see, though, that the full extent became clear. The room was sparse, concrete and utilitarian. A few boilers, some circuitry. There were three men on the floor, dead, arranged in an “A.” Blood, so much that she almost suspected some of it didn’t come from the men on the floor, covered the walls, like a crazy Jackson Pollock in monochrome. On one side, however, it said in fingerpaint-like handwriting, “Do not forget who made the unjust.”
Blackstone growled, and Cooper stiffened. Katiya breathed, “Oh fuck me,” looking around. This… this was going to take some cleaning up.
Fandom/original: original
Rating: PG-13
A/N: The first of my vacation prompts for
rougen. This one was "decoration."The low, steady thrumming of the electrical transformers made it feel like the entire building was sleeping, a giant lost in a steady rhythm of breath and dreams. Katiya felt both oddly reassured and unnerved. She moved through the halls, the collar of her leather jacket raised against the cellar’s cool damp. Behind her, Blackstone and Cooper stuck close. She could feel Blackstone getting edgy, and shot him a quick look over her shoulder. He looked guilty, but nodded.
They weren’t here on the books, of course, but Arthur had a few contacts left. Fewer still who knew about Katiya and her people, so she couldn’t help but figure whatever it was had to be serious.
They’d probably pitch a fit, if they knew she’d just come down here. Chain of evidence blah blah blah. You didn’t call a werewolf when you wanted to do things by the book.
When they got there, she could see why they’d gotten that desperate.
The smell hit first, rank and rotting. Flesh and blood, human. It wasn’t until they could see, though, that the full extent became clear. The room was sparse, concrete and utilitarian. A few boilers, some circuitry. There were three men on the floor, dead, arranged in an “A.” Blood, so much that she almost suspected some of it didn’t come from the men on the floor, covered the walls, like a crazy Jackson Pollock in monochrome. On one side, however, it said in fingerpaint-like handwriting, “Do not forget who made the unjust.”
Blackstone growled, and Cooper stiffened. Katiya breathed, “Oh fuck me,” looking around. This… this was going to take some cleaning up.
