At 21h56 p.m., before Nevel visited the Karma wolf, Matthews.
The Hollow Peak's downtown area has long been referred to as the city's lagoon, steadily contaminating the standard structure of the city day by day. The majority of inner-city residents avoid this area as though it were plagued, believing that even if they were discovered here by a member of upper society, their reputation would be damaged by a single rumor or whisper.
On the road that leads into the downtown residential area known as Root Grove, yellow tapes were now blocking the main roads into the resident main entrance, mobile cars with blinking red and blue lights, some men in blue uniforms and hats holding batons, and others were crowd control as a group of onlookers looked to the crime scene, some wanting to go home. But nobody's going home just yet unless the cops finish this. People, red-eyed and pale-skinned, green-skinned and reddish-orange haired, giant man in the center with one eye.
A Man wearing a white trench coat and hat with a black band around it, the hat tilled a bit to hide his face and hands in his coat, to his right was a man with enormous unkempt hair and flight-type goggles tied on his small frame head. He knelt next to the corpse of a young youth with an unrecognizable face and shaved head; his face was filled with cracks, exposed bones, popped-out eyes, and a puddle of blood, the source of which was the back of the head.
"What is your input, Ken?"
Ken bent over and put his finger in the blood before taking a sniff:
"I can only pick up traces of dirt, he was bashed with something heavy and large"
As he said this, he slipped on blue gloves from his lab coat pocket and stroked the skull, moving it around a little, adding:
"A sick individual indeed, he/she broke the neck. The youth was still alive when bashed on the head with the blunt object and snapped his neck"
Following his brief analysis, Ken got to his feet and extended his hand to inquire:
"You got smoke?"
The man wearing a trench coat and black jeans shook his head and replied:
"I don't have any"
Ken added, arching his left eyebrow:
"Then why is there a stench of recently bought ding-keep cigarettes in your right pocket?"
The man pulled out the pack and gave it to Ken, saying, "Damn you Werewolves and your noses."
"What can we say, it's a gift to have these noses sometimes," Ken replied, reaching into his pockets for a box of matches and holding it up to the trench coat man.
"Would you mind?"
With his square face, brown complexion, and clean-shaven chin, the man had the appearance of an experienced veteran with years of experience:
"Sure, why not"
He led the matchstick to the cigarette in Ken's lips as he spoke, striking the black area on the box with it and setting it ablaze. Ken inhaled and exhaled smoke from his lighted cigarette.
The veteran remarked, "You know that stuff is a killer, right?"
Ken replied, taking a few puffs of smoke:
"We live a dangerous life. Being killed by a cigarette sounds better than being drunk to death by a vampire or cannibalized by your kind." I would rather die from the tiniest of things."
"That being smoking?" the veteran inquired in a snide manner.
Ken blew out smoke, laughed, and said,
"You're not creative or enthusiastic enough. Veteran, as a race that takes great pride in being the first, you genuinely lack certain traits that we possess. What is preventing you from being more carefree, enjoyable to be around, and like your partner?"
Grinning, the man enquired:
"Speaking of Partner, where is that brat, I called him and told him to be here"
After taking a whiff of the atmosphere and puffed smoke, Ken stated:
"He has been in the crowd, talking with someone. Interesting, he has been there for long"
"How did you know he has been there for long?" Asked the veteran as he looked around the crowd.
After chuckling a little, Ken put out the cigarette, which was now about the size of a cent, and crushed it with his sandals.
"His smell had been lingering there for a while and that someone is a woman, should I get him?"
Grinning, the old man pulled out a silver handgun from his inner pocket in the trench coat and gestured up at the sky:
"No need, he will come to me"
The gun fired off with a single pull of the trigger—Bang! Bang!
Following two bullets, everyone in the crowd, including the few police officers, ducked and covered their heads, except one man. The veteran yelled at him, saying:
"Found you"
The man appeared to be in his early thirties, with blonde freshly cut hair resembling crops and ruby eyes that glittered as he stared at the veteran.
He donned a crimson casual suit with black pointed shoes and appeared to be dressed for a wedding, bachelor party, or another function. Most people wouldn't wear these items of clothing when going to a crime scene investigation.
The red-suited man grinned, quickly arrived at the scene, and faced the veteran:
"Good evening, Cormac the Detective. I was recording a desired witness's statement."
Veteran Cormac tucked the gun into the trench coat pocket and asked:
"Does your statement include her phone numbers and address?"
With a smile, the man in the suit said:
"The perks of the job, heh, I know you used this method to set yourself up with your wife"
The veteran ignored the statement made regarding his manner of collecting women's numbers back in the day, instead looking at the suited man up and down and asking:
"Why the suit?"
The suited man looked at himself, then arranged his suit a bit and answered:
"I was at a party, you called me at the wrong time"
With a small laugh, Cormac dismissed him once more and said:
"Anyways We have a Homicide here and a murderer out there, do what you do"
The man dressed in a suit pulled out some red gloves and asked Ken with a grin:
"Evening Ken, what's the analysis?"
"The victim is a boy of 17 or 18 years old who was assaulted with a hard weapon, causing his head to come in contact with the concrete road and snapping his neck,
Murder and battering all rolled into one," Ken clarified.
Looking out at the crowd, the man in the suit remarked, "Wow rough night":
"I apologize for the old man's little worry; he hasn't taken his nap yet, and his meds may have expired. Go on with your life, officers, and guide them home if possible."
Grinning, the suit-wearing man turned to face the assembled audience, noticing a young lady mingled among them. They met eyes, and the man in the suit motioned for her to give him a call later. She responded with a smile and wink.
"So let's begin, shall we?" The well-dressed man screamed, bending over, turned to study the young person's attire. The teenager dressed in fashionable jeans, with long pants ripped at the knees as a fashion statement; his boots were short and polished brown; and he wore a fading blue jean jacket with a white T-shirt visible due to the unbuttoned jacket.
His jeans suggest that he was a young man who dressed in the newest styles for nomad clothing; they appear to be brand-new and may even be a week old. His boots contain a few loose threads next to the soul of the shoe, where most objects could have worn out, been handed down, or been borrowed—if the latter is the case.
The well-dressed man crouched beside the nearly dried-out blood and questioned Ken:
"May I?"
"Knock yourself out"
The suited man licked the blood after dipping his gloved pinkie into it. His ruby eyes shone with weak light as he looked up at the sky and sighed:
"That touched the spot; my thirst was a little issue during the investigation. I appreciate the drink.
Ken remarked mockingly, "Sure glad to help".
Cormac queried:
"Do you have an input, Joseph?"
Joseph murmured, turning to face the battered and deformed head:
"The eye is the window to someone's memory or soul, May I?"
With a sigh, a vein appeared in Cormac:
"Sure, why not?"
Following the eye's removal, Joseph gaped at the eye with bright red eyes and had a wave of memories rush through him as he saw the victim's final moments.
Before being attacked on foot by a group of people wearing cloaks, the victim was on his way somewhere when he was subjected to a series of physical and psychological abuse, including having his legs broken and his fur, hair, and tail chopped off.
They repeatedly posed him with the same questions:
"Where is Moody, where is Moody?" asked the cloaked figure donning a silver ring with a red-cut diamond sparkling in the night sky.
A brute hammer that resembled Mjolnir {2} projected from the ring, and the cloaked man first placed it on the ground before threatening the young man with the same response:
"I don't know where he is"
The cloaked man then used the hammer several times, chuckling every time he heard a grunt or scream of pain.
The young guy's body went slack, and he remained still for some time before the cloaked man kicked him in the neck, causing a break to sound and the flow of final minutes to halt.
That was a vampire high-tier skill known as Mindsight, which allowed the user to see people's memories through their eyes or by biting a section of their brain responsible for memories.
Joseph grinned and spoke:
"I might know who he is and why he died here?"
Cormac queried unsurprised:
"Really, who is he?"
Joseph said, grinning, "Before I answer that, Ken tracks down a Werecat by the name of Nevel Sigzfree, call Detective Cormac with the information about his current address, all I know is that Nevel lives here in Root Grove downtown."
Then, he dug through the jean jacket and took out two pictures, in which the victim was posing with an elf youth with blue eyes and white hair with black snippets on the ends.
"Find this guy next to the victim, while me and Cormac will talk with Nevel"
Joseph finished speaking, and he departed the scene. Cormac then lifted the tape and Joseph continued, saying:
"The Youth is a younger brother of Nevel, I have seen him before hanging around here with his large of a brother"
"So, you have visited this place before?"
"Oh, I never told you that I lived here for a week"
"No really, I just assumed that you Vampire enjoys a place of higher living. So, I can't imagine you living here at all"
Joseph chuckled and added:
"I was disowned by my family about a month ago, so I lived in this slum for a while until I was strong enough to claim, what is mine by birth"
"Did you claim it yet?"
Joseph and Cormac reached the main entrance which was a steel gate that automatically parted as they entered, Joseph added:
"I am about to claim when I am done with this"
(1) Mjolnir is the hammer of the thunder god Thor in Norse mythology, used both as a devastating weapon and as a divine instrument to provide blessings.