After last night's events, I could not sleep even when I retired for the night. It was not just the news my brother told me. Even in limbo, I feel like something is watching me. It is not a pleasant sensation when you are like me, especially when the gaze feels predatory. Not only that, I feel fatigued. It is highly unusual.
As I make my way to the precinct on my motorcycle, the feelings gradually get worse. I do not sense any immediate danger, so the cause remains unknown. What I do know is that when I get to work, I will be indulging in some coffee for the first time in my long life.
I park in the lot and turn off the engine, looking around to make sure there is no one else around. I make haste to the entrance and stop by the break area. A fresh pot of liquid caffeine is already brewed. I grab a disposable cup and pour some for myself. Angela usually arrives shortly after I do and follows this same routine, so I do not worry about getting any for her. I walk out into the bullpen and to my desk. I do not bother unpacking my satchel, everything I need is already in my drawers. Today is about the cold case files; kidnappings to be more precise. No traces left behind, no witnesses, and no one is sure of any whereabouts before the disappearances. I cannot let the trails go cold, and Angela agreed last I asked of her. We have been delving into them whenever we can get the chance.
As I go over the files and sip the coffee - despite it being horrendously bitter - a random question crosses my mind.
'What if these and the reapers' kidnappings are connected?'
It is a near-impossible idea, but I have seen stranger things happen nowadays.
Angela arrives and sits at her desk, leaving me no more time to ponder.
"Morning." She greets.
"Good morning." I greet back, still not as awake as her. She takes notice of my off state.
"I've never seen you drinking coffee. Is it about last night, your family issues?" Ever the curious one.
"You could say that," I answer. "I have a lot of things on my mind recently."
"Don't worry too much. I'm sure it'll all work out." She tries to reassure me. I simply nod, appreciating the gesture, and continue looking over the files.
Another hour passes, there is not much activity, and scouring these files has yielded no progress. The more I look at it, the more it feels like we are missing another element. Maybe contacting the last known associates again is a step in the right direction. They have to have something, someone, or someplace in common. Going over it with my partner should refresh my mind a little.
I look up to ask her, but she is not at her desk. Looking around, I see that she is in the front lobby talking to someone. I cannot see who they are from here, their back is turned. I stand up to go and talk to Angela, but I need to brace myself on my desk.
Vertigo.
It is mild, but there nonetheless, and fades just as fast as its onset. This has never happened to me before. Being immortal, I am supposed to be immune to human needs and ailments of all kinds. Sickness, hunger, fatigue, thirst, and all others of the like are irrelevant to all reapers. So far, I have experienced tiredness and a sudden dizzy spell. What is causing this array of symptoms?
I try to forget about it for the moment and focus on talking to my partner. She notices me walking toward her and I stop behind her friend.
"Sorry if I am interrupting. Once you have a free moment, could I discuss a case with you?" I ask, not trying to be rude. Angela looks apprehensive as she looks between me and her friend, she nods at me. I proceed to go back to my desk and wait while finishing my coffee.
A few minutes later, Angela comes back to her desk with an expression almost mirroring mine. Now I am curious.
"Did he give you any trouble?" I ask.
"No. He's a friend - who happens to have another case that's up our alley." She answers, and now I am interested.
"What did he say?" I ask.
"It's another disappearance, a lot like the other we've been investigating. It hasn't been reported, yet. He thinks the kidnapper may have left something behind this time, doesn't want anyone else screwing it up." I raise a brow at that.
"His words or yours?" I inquire.
"His." She answers.
"Did he reveal any details, yet?" I pry some more.
"Not much. We agreed it would be better if the two of us saw it for ourselves." Seems logical, but I cannot help feeling that she is omitting information. A potential break in any cold case is worth investigating, though.
"Is he a Private Investigator? Why would he need our help?" I keep prying, trying to get more background information before saying yes.
"Sort of. He's my friend, he knows about our cold cases, and he asked for our help. What he found might be related to these." She points at the files on my desk. There are alarm bells ringing in my head.
"How much does he know, exactly? How much have you told him?" I ask, pensive.
"I haven't told him anything. He has his own way of gathering information." This still sounds strange. What choice do I have, though? Partners need bo back each other up.
"Alright, I will follow you. What do we need to do?" I say, relenting. She takes a scrap piece of paper out of her pocket and hands it to me. It has an address on it for an abandoned apartment complex. It is not far from where I live, toward the more decrepit side of town.
"Right after our shift, I'll give my friend a call and he'll meet us there." She explains briefly.
"Straightforward. No bullshit?" I say, throwing in the crass expression for fun. Angela chuckles a little at that - it is out of character for me.
"None whatsoever." She responds.
The rest of our shift passes by with only a suicide and a robbery gone wrong. Open and close cases, nothing we have not dealt with before. The latter extends our shift by an extra half-hour because of evidence processing and the like. Once we have done all we can, and finished a draft of our report, we stop and save the rest for in the morning. We clock out and gather our things. This time, I am taking the kidnappings' files with me for reference material.
As I stand to follow Angela out, my body feels funny. I stretch my arms upward on an instinct to relieve it and my mouth stretches open. I just yawned.
"You sure you're up for this, Laura? You look beat." Angela comments. I shake off the newfound need for sleep and nod.
"I am. This is an opportunity we cannot pass up." I say with determination.
"Okay. Let's go." I follow her out of the station and to the car lot - where we get into our respective vehicles. Angela starts her car as I start my motorcycle. She leads the way from here across the city to the predetermined address.
We park outside, in front of the apartment complex. There are no other vehicles in sight.
"Are you sure that he is here, Angela?" I ask, apprehensive.
"I'm sure, trust me." She says. I do trust her - to an extent - her friend is another story. I let her lead me inside of the building anyway. We travel up two flights of stairs to the third floor. Once there, we only see one apartment door open with light coming out.
That has to be the one. Although, I am getting a strange vibe from the room that may not be from the kidnapping. Nevertheless, I walk right behind my partner into the vacant space. No one seems to be here; all furniture is covered and a couple of standing floodlights allow us to see all around.
"What is going on?" I ask, growing tired of Angela's evasiveness. "Where is your friend, or have you been lying to me this whole time?" As soon as those words leave my mouth, I hear someone approaching from the back hall leading out of the living room. My first instinct is to reach for my gun, but I clamp it down. That spirit... it is familiar. I did not concentrate enough at the station to recognize it, that was my mistake.
A man in a black suit and khaki trench coat steps out into the open. Any being privy to the supernatural realm knows who this man is.
John Constantine.