The operations room buzzed with low conversation and the constant tapping of keys. Inspectors moved briskly between desks, exchanging files, answering calls, and reviewing reports. Screens lined the walls, flashing maps, case updates, and news feeds. In the middle of it all sat Inspector Hoppins, hunched over his desk, the pale glow of his monitor deepening the shadows beneath his eyes.
He scrolled through headline after headline: Another Child Missing. Parents Panic as Kidnappings Continue. State Police Baffled by Strange Pattern. The words blurred together, but the pattern did not. Every witness spoke of the same hollow gaze in the children, the same unnatural calm before they vanished, as if something unseen had reached into their minds and switched them off.
Hoppins rubbed at his temples. He had barely slept. The desk beside him was still empty, though not for long.
"Still digging, huh?"
Bob dropped into his chair, looking as if he'd been running since dawn. The man never seemed still, even when he sat.
"Where were you?" Hoppins asked without lifting his eyes from the screen.
Bob grinned and slid a thick folder onto the desk. "Picking this up from the lab. Blood analysis from Salaza County finally came in."
That pulled Hoppins upright. He dragged the file closer, flipping through the pages. His brow furrowed deeper with each line.
"This says it's human blood."
"Exactly."
"You're certain they didn't botch it?"
"They ran it three times, brought in a second team. Same result." Bob's tone hardened. "We need to tell the chief."
Hoppins didn't argue. He grabbed the file and the two crossed the room, past clusters of Inspectors, until they reached the door marked Chief of Inspectors.
Inside, the atmosphere shifted. The office was wide, clean, its dark wood desk polished to a mirror's shine. Smoke curled upward from a cigarette between the fingers of Chief Malcolm, a broad man with skin the color of mahogany and hair cut close to his scalp. His voice snapped through the receiver at his ear.
"I don't care who's pulling strings, it doesn't change the facts. An A-ranker is dead and every agency wants answers. Yes. I'll handle it."
Hoppins and Bob waited in silence until he ended the call. Malcolm leaned back, smoke drifting from his nostrils.
"Sorry. Comes with the job. When someone important dies, the whole system shakes."
"Someone important?" Hoppins asked.
Malcolm gave a short nod. "An A-ranker. The Slasher. Suicide."
Bob's mouth fell open. "You're joking. That's impossible."
"It happened."
Hoppins blinked. "And the news doesn't have it yet?"
"Barkingham's keeping it quiet. Won't stay buried forever, but they're holding it back for now."
Bob let out a low whistle. "What would push a man like that to… end it?"
Neither Malcolm nor Hoppins answered. The silence pressed heavy until the chief leaned forward. "What do you need?"
Hoppins slid the folder across the desk. "Lab work from Salaza County."
Malcolm read through the pages, his expression darkening. "What am I looking at?"
"Human blood," Hoppins said flatly.
Both he and Bob spoke in unison when Malcolm's eyes shot up. "We're sure."
The chief closed the file with deliberate care, his jaw set. "Call everyone in. Meeting now."
The conference room was dimly lit, a round table dominating the center. Hoppins and Bob slipped inside and took their seats, their files pressed close against them. One by one the others arrived, the scrape of chairs echoing until twelve Inspectors were settled in their places.
The door opened again. Chief Malcolm stepped in with the weight of command already in his stride. He did not waste time.
"You all know why you are here," he said, his voice carrying across the room. "Something unusual has come up in the Salazar County case."
He reached into a folder and pulled out a large photograph. With a firm motion he pinned it to the board at the far wall. The image stared back at them, twisted and grotesque.
"Who can tell me what this is?"
The Inspectors leaned forward. A man with sharp blue eyes and hair the color of wheat frowned. His name was Duke.
"The Otherworlder we killed, is it not?" he asked.
"Wrong," Malcolm replied. His tone cut the air clean. "According to the tests, this is human… or was."
A ripple of voices stirred around the table. Whispers and questions layered one over the other until Malcolm raised a hand. Silence returned quickly.
"We do not know for certain yet," he said. "For all I know, it could be a mutant Otherworlder with blood close enough to mimic our own. The samples are being run through the system as we speak. If there is a match, we will have a name, and maybe then we can make sense of what we are facing." He paused, his gaze hard. "So help me God, I hope I am wrong."
The weight of his words settled over the room. Duke broke the silence. "What is the plan?"
Malcolm folded his arms. "Until now, Hoppins and Bob have carried this case. I am assigning two more teams. Duke, you will work with Alyssia." His eyes moved to the far side of the table where a striking woman sat, her dark skin framed by long braids. "And Samson, you will pair with Lore."
The four Inspectors nodded, their faces tight with focus.
"The rest of you stay alert," Malcolm said. "If anything connects to Salazar, I want it reported immediately. Otherwise, you may leave."
Chairs scraped once again as the others filed out. When the door closed behind them, only six remained: Malcolm, Hoppins, Bob, Duke, Alyssia, Samson, and Lore.
Malcolm leaned forward. "We return to the crime scene. I want eyes on every detail that might have been missed. Find the witnesses, anyone who saw even a shadow of this thing. Question them all."
He turned to Hoppins, his stare sharp. "And the boy. The one who fought it. What did he say?"
Hoppins shifted. "Everything he knows is in the report."
"I don't care about the report," Malcolm snapped. "I want you to speak to him again. This time, dig deeper. A boy does not face something like that and walk away without noticing something the rest of us missed."
The room went still. Malcolm's cigarette smoldered faintly in the tray at his elbow. Then he stood.
"That's all. You are excused."
The Inspectors rose, each with their orders weighing heavy, the silence of the conference room following them out.