Inside the lavish office of Dove Corporation's headquarters in London, walls adorned with priceless art and floor-to-ceiling windows that boasted breathtaking views of the city, sat Sir Holland. Despite the grandeur, his attention was captivated by the simple joy of music and food. The soft melodies of a reggae song echoed from his earbuds as he hummed and sang along, a bounce in his rhythm.
"Come out from your hiding place," he crooned, lost in the music, "Come out, let us see your face. Come out from your hiding place. Come out from among the human race."
The small lunch box on his desk seemed out of place amidst the opulence, but Sir Holland treated it with the same reverence as any of his valuable possessions. Opening it, his eyes twinkled with delight. "Chicken, chorizo, and potato stew," he whispered like a man sharing a delicious secret. "Doesn't get much better than this."
Holding a gleaming silver fork, he was a moment away from relishing the dish. But, as if the universe conspired against his culinary moment, the sharp trill of his landline interrupted him.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Sir Holland muttered, rolling his eyes. "You had the whole morning but chose my lunch break to call me."
With a sigh of resignation, he grabbed the phone, pulling it to his ear with a dramatic flair, "Sir Holland speaking..."
Whatever he heard on the other end transformed his demeanour. His relaxed posture straightened, and his eyes grew wide in shock. "What!?" The word escaped his lips, a mix of disbelief and curiosity, leaving one wondering what news could shake a man of his stature.
The exterior of Dove Corporation's headquarters in Watford looked like a scene straight out of a crime thriller. Yellow police tape fluttered softly, marking the grim boundary between the uninvolved and the horrendous scene that lay beyond it. The building, usually an epitome of power and corporate might, now seemed vulnerable, tainted.
Officers clad in navy uniforms scoured the area, their faces grim, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Forensic experts, identifiable by their white overalls, combed through the wreckage, searching for clues with methodical precision. The air was thick with a mix of dread and urgency.
Sir Holland stood a distance away alongside Captain Toshiko. Both had an air of authority about them, but today, it was marred with an undercurrent of anxiety. Their eyes, usually sharp and observant, now watched the scene with disbelief.
A forensic expert, latex gloves stained and clipboard in hand, approached the duo. Sir Holland, ever the man in charge, spoke up, "What have you found so far?"
The expert hesitated for a moment, perhaps pondering how to convey the grim nature of his findings. "Gruesome sight, sir," he began, voice steady but strained. "Three of the bodies were without heads, while one had its neck slashed open. Another... his heart was ripped right from his chest."
Sir Holland's olive skin went several shades lighter. The colour drained from his face, shock evident in his eyes. He attempted to speak, voice shaky, "Any idea which beast could've done this?"
The expert shook his head, "From what we've gathered, this doesn't seem to be the work of a beast."
Sir Holland's eyes darted, confusion evident. "W-what do you mean?"
The chilling response came, "The precision of these cuts suggests a human hand."
Sir Holland stumbled on the revelation. "A...human?" he repeated, trying to grasp the reality of the statement. But before he could ask further, Captain Toshiko interjected, "It's him."
Both men turned to him, searching his face for answers. Sir Holland's voice was barely a whisper, "Who? Who are you talking about?"
The silence that followed was thick, only Toshiko's meaningful glance providing a hint.
Sir Holland's eyes widened, realization dawning. "No...surely not..." His voice was desperate, almost pleading.
Captain Toshiko nodded, his expression grave. "It's the only logical conclusion. Only a few humans could single-handedly take down Squad Barclay."
Blind rage consumed Sir Holland. With a cry of pure frustration, he threw his phone with such force that it shattered on impact. He crouched, head in hands, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.
"We have to find him... we have to make him pay," Sir Holland's voice was a growl.
Toshiko placed a hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry. We will."
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The sky overhead was an ashen hue, its overcast state lending a melancholic feel to the cemetery beneath. Tombstones, each a testament to lives lived, stood erect, casting long shadows on the ground. The rustling leaves of the trees nearby seemed to whisper memories of days gone by.
Amidst this solemnity stood a group of six individuals: Ren, Kimberley, Alko, Atamai, Udo, and Kelly. They formed a somber line, each lost in personal recollections, grief evident in their eyes. Before them stood two tombstones, fresher than the rest, bearing the names "Kenny" and "Wayne." The vibrant petals of fresh flowers placed at the base of these graves starkly contrasted the grey backdrop, a silent tribute to the vibrancy of the lives once lived.
The atmosphere was thick with sorrow and regret. An exchange of glances between Ren and Udo deepened the air of tension. Ren's eyes were alight with anger, his stare pointed and accusing. Udo, sensing the weight of that gaze, quickly averted his eyes, the guilt in his heart making it impossible to meet Ren's eyes.
Kimberley, ever the pillar of strength, nudged Udo gently, breaking the spell of his introspection. "Udo," she whispered, "it's your turn."
He nodded, his eyes clouded with emotion. Each step he took towards the graves felt like a monumental task, echoing the burden of guilt and loss in his heart. As he reached the tombstone, he crouched, placing a solitary white lily at its foot. His hand trembled, betraying his emotions, and tears brimmed in his eyes. Despite his efforts to mask them, a lone tear escaped, trailing down his cheek.
Suddenly, warmth enveloped him. Udo turned to find Kelly, her smile gentle, her eyes understanding. "It's okay, Udo," she murmured. "He's in a better place now."
Grateful for the solace she offered, Udo pulled her into an embrace, seeking comfort in her presence. The hug was a silent exchange of shared grief, a momentary reprieve from the pain.
As they broke apart, Kelly took her turn, placing a bouquet of fresh daisies by the graves. Her voice, soft yet firm, echoed the sentiments of the entire group. "Rest well, you guys."
The quietude of the cemetery was interrupted by a sudden, unexpected sensation: a gentle tap on Kelly's shoulder. She spun around, her heart leaping into her throat, not prepared for what met her gaze. There, shimmering faintly yet undeniably present, was Wayne Grieves. Her late husband. His ethereal presence seemed almost tangible against the backdrop of the graves.
"Tough times, huh?" His voice, though faint, resonated with warmth and familiarity.
Kelly, her breath caught in her throat, managed to whisper, "W-Wayne?"
His ghostly visage softened, pride evident in his eyes. "I'm proud of the steps you've decided to take, Kelly."
Choking back tears, Kelly responded, the weight of her regrets pressing down on her. "Wayne, I'm sorry I couldn't protect Kenny. I tried everything I could..."
Wayne cut her off, his spectral voice imbued with understanding. "You can't stop a Dove host from doing his job, Kelly. He died doing what he loved most. Isn't that what matters?"
Before she could reply, another voice chimed in, causing her to turn sharply. Her heart seemed to stop, as beside Wayne stood another ghostly figure: their son, Kenny. He appeared as a beacon of light, his youthful countenance radiant even in death.
"You did nothing wrong, Mum," Kenny's voice reassured her, light and serene.
Still in shock, she turned to face him, her voice trembling. "As you said earlier," Kenny added with a gleam in his eyes, "I'm in a better place now."
A deluge of emotions swept over Kelly, tears blurring her vision. The spectral images of her loved ones began to fade, their messages of comfort lingering in the air.
A soft touch brought her back to the present. Ren, Atamai, Alko, Kimberley, and Udo had drawn close, their supportive presence acting as a warm shield around her, silently assuring her that even in the face of the inexplicable, she wasn't alone.