The sirens whooped for half a second, red and blue flashing from the top of the windscreen, warning people to get out of the way. It always seemed like when you had nowhere to go the roads were clear and easy, but when you had something urgent it was like the whole city was trying to stop you. Bystanders to the crime scene flocked around the yellow tape like they had front row seats to a live show. But instead of music, or a performance, they were gathering to see the commotion of the brutal murder that had happened here last night. At some level it made Arthur sick. Didn’t these people have anything better to do?

  The unmarked police car stopped just outside the quarantined apartment, parking on the curb, and two detectives got out from the vehicle to make their way towards the small, eight resident apartment building. One was tall, and thin, and tired looking with dark hair and bags under his eyes. He wore a shabby old suit that probably fit him a while ago, but not so much anymore due to overuse and lack of tailoring. The other was short, bald, and grumpy looking, and wore a leather jacket, t-shirt and jeans. The first looked like he didn’t want to be there at all, and the second looked like she was ready to hit anyone who looked at her funny. Getting called to an early morning murder was not something any detective wanted to deal with, no matter how hardened or experienced they were.

  The pair passed through the small throng of people, people looking towards them as if they had some sort of secret insider knowledge despite just getting here. In fact they hadn’t been told anything, besides the fact they were the nearest people available to respond to a code 187. So, instead of pretending like they knew anything or trying to settle the crowd, the detectives ignored them. They were used to the fact that for some reason people were interested in the morbid as if knowledge of whatever had happened here would improve their lives somehow. Arthur also knew that keeping people who didn’t need to know anything in the dark was the best course of action. Less trouble for him. He checked his phone. 6:44 AM. February 19th. He sighed. They hadn’t even gotten coffee yet. But after this he probably wouldn’t want anything in his stomach anyway.

  The bald detective reached for something in her coat pocket, before removing her hand and making a fist in annoyance. Arthur saw it, but he said nothing. He never smoked, but could imagine what the effects of quitting might feel like. At least he thought he could, but never brought it up. And she never did either. During long car rides, late hours crime scenes, and early hours at the office, eventually they would end up talking about everything and joking about everything. But for whatever reason, trying to kick an old smoking habit wasn’t one of those things. Maybe they both recognized you shouldn’t make fun of something like that. Trying to better yourself.

  So, they didn’t bring it up. Just outside the open front door of the apartment building standing inside the zone of yellow tape was a young looking officer that Arthur recognized. His name was Stephen. He was fresh out of the academy. High marks, but inexperienced. He stood at attention at the door, eyes scanning the crowd around like he was expecting the murderer to come back and try to take him out too. He seemed far too attentive and far too happy to be here for being so early in the morning. That annoyed Arthur.

  “Pretty grisly inside there,” Stephen said as the detectives approached. Arthur could swear he heard the slightest tremor in the kid’s voice.

  “Been inside?”

  Stephen nodded once, doing his best to keep his eyes on the detective and not on the floor. Arthur wondered what it was like to be so young and fresh. So lively you were happy to be up so early at a murder, and still have that spark inside you that made you feel bad when someone got killed. He wondered what it was like to be so stupid. “Pretty grisly,” Stephen said quietly.

  “Mhm,” was all he got back from Arthur. The bald, short detective leaned up against the brick wall and popped a piece of chewing gum in her mouth, before nodding at Arthur.

  “Your turn,” she said. Arthur sighed, taking in a breath and then blowing it out slowly. Even for someone like him, he’d rather try to mentally prepare himself for whatever he was about to see. As he made his way inside the apartment building, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t smelled before. Lots of blood. The forensics team was already swabbing, dabbing and collecting evidence from the outside of the door where there was a large stain on the floor and ripped carpet. Looked like there had been some sort of struggle outside, and a small splatter of blood on the left wall. Who ever had been killed here had been bludgeoned from the right.

  Arthur ignored the scent as he walked inside the actual apartment, taking care to step around the stains all over the floor that had been marked with little yellow cones with numbers. As he stepped inside he noted that the air conditioning was particularly loud. During summer that wasn’t unusual, but it probably meant something was wrong with the unit and the apartment manager hadn’t bothered to fix it. He’d also noticed the street lamp outside was only half-working, and so was the ceiling light inside. No wonder nobody had noticed the crime. This entire place reeked of apathy.

  The interior of the apartment looked like it had received the same treatment as the exterior. There were large dried pools of blood and big stains clearly from someone having dragged a body around the apartment, specifically towards the bathroom. Everything was smashed up, either like there were some sort of fight, or the victim had been senselessly beaten and thrown around for some reason. As Arthur was looking around, he realized one of the forensic team members had been babbling information directed towards him and he only now realized that. He figured if he’d missed the first half of whatever they were telling him, it probably wouldn’t matter if he missed the second half. They’d put it all in a file anyway.

  So he only half listened, and pretend nodded like it was all very helpful as he tried to disseminate any more information from the room. The only thing that was obvious was that whoever the killer was, he was either high on some serious drugs or really enjoyed hurting people. As the exposition finally stopped, the forensics team member looked towards Arthur in the same way all the bystanders had been. Almost like he was expecting Arthur to make some sort of grand conclusion despite only having been here for thirty seconds. After a few moments of awkward silence, the tall detective spoke.

  “A/C seems busted.”

  “Er…” The forensics guy said. “Yeah.”

  “Might be why nobody else heard anything.”

  The guy just nodded, only his eyes visible behind the plastic mask of his all white body suit designed to keep contaminants out.

  “Is the building owner here? Maybe we can get him to fix it.”

  Unsure if the detective was joking or not, the forensics member nodded, and left the room to begin asking around. A few moments later, a man who looked almost as tired and unhappy as Arthur arrived, although a little older and a lot more bald. This must be the apartment manager. Before he could get inside though, Arthur’s partner snatched him by the arm gently and began asking him some questions. Arthur watched the questioning for a bit, noting that the manager didn’t seem particularly bothered by the murder. A less experienced detective might determine that he somehow knew something because of his perceived calmness. Arthur knew he just really didn’t want to be here, and that calmness was actually smothered irritation. Another person affected by the apathy.

  Instead, Arthur turned around and entered the apartment hallway again, although there wasn’t much more to see here that he hadn’t already seen. He scanned the rest of the hallways and the doors, all of which were in the middle of questioning by various officers. From what he’d been told, only four of the neighbors had been home when the literal bloodbath happened. Only one of them heard any screaming at all. That person hadn’t bothered to report it until the morning when he had a chance to investigate after being woken up from his sleep. To his credit though, he, unlike everyone else, seemed to actually care. He’d just made a selfish decision to ignore the brutal killings outside his door for the sake of his sleep.

  Arthur could still hear the manager being questioned outside, so the detective went inside the apartment again, and stood outside the bathroom, which housed two separate bodies. The one on top was identified as Todd Ruckles, the neighbor who lived across the hall. The other was the resident here, a Jordan Alvarez. According to the position of their bodies and the rates of decomposition, Todd had been killed second, outside, and dragged into the apartment after J. Alvarez had eaten dust in his own home. Why the neighbor had died was the most mysterious part of the whole thing. Alvarez could’ve been subject to a home invasion, or some sort of crime of passion, or anything. But the neighbor, Ruckles, was just a bystander. Why would the killer come back? Arthur though.

  “We thought that at first too, but look here.” One forensics investigator pointed with a laser at the body of Jordan Alvarez. He was a middle aged Hispanic man with a full head of hair, barely visible under all the blood. Who despite his shabby living arrangement had been wearing a silk collared shirt with with swirly blue patterns and numerous gold pieces of jewelry. Dressed like he owned yachts and lived in a shithole like this. The laser point was pointed at his neck, specifically. The front of it was mangled, as if he had been attacked by a wolf and it had gone directly for the throat. It wasn’t a cut, clean or otherwise, like a knife. His whole throat had been torn out, revealing bloody tendons and the front of his trachea. Arthur studied the corpse. As the forensics investigator described what was in front of them, Arthur subconsciously nodded along.

  The younger man, Todd Ruckles, was in a similar situation. But he hadn’t been attacked by a wolf serial killer, or rather, the wolf had decided not to go for the throat. His face was badly bruised and beaten, both his arms were broken, and his neck had been snapped so violently his head lay in an awkward position against his shoulder.

  “This doesn’t seem like a normal fight,” the investigator continued. “It was like whoever attacked them went totally feral. Plus, something else interesting. Blood samples indicate that Mr. Alvarez died just prior to Mr. Ruckles. An hour or so before.”

  “Murder weapon?” Arthur asked, mostly out of procedure, mentally checking off the list in his head. The investigator shook his head. “Hm.”

  “Whoever did it seems to have come and went.”

  “Twice,” Arthur said.

  “Excuse me?”

  Arthur shrugged, “It’s unlikely the killer sat around here for a whole hour. Alvarez was dead, and the neighbor has no relation.” Arthur motioned to the clipboard the investigator was holding, thumbing through the papers on it. “Todd Ruckles, the neighbor. He’s lived here three years, while Alvarez just moved in. They have no relation, work at different jobs. Which means he was collateral. Not the target. The killer must have came back for some reason. Was anything stolen?”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The investigator took the clipboard back and shook his head. “No.”

  “Hm,” Was all Arthur said. Lots of things weren’t adding up, but generally speaking lots of things didn’t add up for a while until new evidence presented itself or someone found something that they hadn’t before. Arthur sighed, as the sunrise was finally high enough to begin streaming through the window. Another one on the unsolved pile, he thought. He dragged his hand down his face, pulling at the bags under his eyes with his fingers. Arthur gathered up various pieces of key pictures and evidences the forensics team had put together, thanked them, and left the building.

  He took one last look at the apartment from the front door. Something about this bothered him. It seemed so chaotic. Even a psychotic serial killer usually was some sort of meticulous freak, or had an certain method, or used a certain tool. This was just like some kind of rabid maniac had gone completely berserk and torn two people to pieces with his own hands. Not only that, had done in one of them and then come back later. Like he was just doing it for fun. Arthur felt like he might shudder, but the shudder never arrived. He couldn’t tell if that meant he was hardened, or empty. His partner was waiting outside for him, the apartment manager no longer present. She pushed herself up off the wall as Arthur exited and they began walking together.

  “Thoughts?” The bald detective asked bluntly as they made their way back to the car.

  “Not sure,” he said. “No murder weapon. Different times of death. Two totally unrelated victims. Doesn’t add up. What about you, anything from old crusty?”

  She shook her head. “Doesn’t live here. Didn’t see anything, none of the other residents are talking. The guy who reported it feels bad and all that crap. Nobody else gives a shit. Nobody else seemed like they cared.”

  “Yeah, I got that too,” Arthur replied. “It’s like everybody just…looked the other way. Even for a place like this…I don’t know. Seems like nobody gives a shit anymore. We’ll go over forensics tomorrow, see if there’s anything else. Might just have to rule this a murder by a third party and call it that.” The tall detective let out another ragged sigh as he sank back into the passenger seat of the car, putting the manila envelope in the glove compartment. “I’m supposed to get this to the lab.”

  The bald detective just nodded and started the engine, whooping the siren one more time at the now fading group of bystanders outside. They drove in utmost silence for about fifteen minutes, the two detectives too familiar to bother saying anything, each comfortable in the quiet morning. It was a nice morning. Clear sky, the sun coming out, not too hot just yet. Though in a few hours it would be broiling, the Texas sun beating down on the pavement of Longley, so Arthur tried to enjoy the cool weather. Cars had just started barely streaming out from homes and apartments to work, and early morning joggers were getting miles in before the heat got too sweltering.

  Finally, the bald detective said something. “Have we seen anything else like this? Just manic killing for the sake of it?” Arthur shook his head. “Huh. Maybe we’ve got a new psycho on our hands. Whole thing seems weird. Maybe he got caught in the act and took down the second one.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. Only question is why the hell did he decide to come back an hour later, right when the other guy was getting back.”

  “Yeah.”

  More silence. Normally, they might go into details further. But every so often they didn’t. He wasn’t sure why, but just figured that on this particular day neither of them didn’t have the will or energy to discuss the brutal killing anymore than they had to for the moment. Finally they stopped at their destination, a small two story office building in the middle of town. As the tall detective stepped out of the car with the manila envelope, his partner informed him she was picking up coffees. He made a face. Part of him wanted to continue feeding his routine caffeine intake, the other part of him knew that the coffee would taste sour. It always tasted sour after seeing something like what he’d just seen.

  So instead Arthur just grunted, and made his way inside the building as she drove off. He pressed a small badge against an electronic ID reader, and the doors slid open to either side. Despite the exterior looking so mundane, the technology in the forensics lab was all quite up to date. He appreciated that the department did actually spend money in certain places, even if it was mostly directed towards eggheads who spent all day in front of computers and not cops out in the field. But despite that, he found some level of comfort in the fact the for the most part, the department did look after it’s people. Every so often Arthur was able to convince himself he was actually doing good for the public.

  As the detective entered the building the front desk clerk nodded and asked how his morning was going. “Oh you know.” Was all he said. It felt more reasonable of a response than saying, ‘Well I just witnessed a horrible murder of two people, have no leads I can tell you about, and will probably have bad sleep as a result for the new day or two. Oh and on top of that, coffee, the one thing I look forward to in the morning, is going to taste like shit on account of the horrible murder.’ It seemed like a lot to throw on someone at seven-thirty in the morning.

  Arthur entered another set of doors and passed by numerous offices that each had a label on the door of different forensic scientists. All important enough, or experienced enough, or just lucky enough to get their own offices, and most of whom hadn’t arrived to work yet. As he passed one such office, someone called out to him, causing him to stop on a heel, turn around and look in. Inside was a jovial looking, slightly overweight man wearing a white lab coat over a button downed shirt.

  “Hey!” The detective said, mustering as much enthusiasm as possible. “Up bright and early huh. How’d the processing go for the McCallum case?”

  “All done and done!” The man said with a smile, his cheeks rosy. “Everything tightened up and sealed, and sent off. It’ll be all closed up by end of day.”

  “You’re a life saver,” the detective said, with a half-forced smile and as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He rapped on the door frame before continuing on his way, his feigned early morning energy fading as quickly as it had come. It paid to have friends in Forensics, so he always tried to keep up a cheerful attitude with certain members. But he could never understand how the man was always so happy about looking at grotesque pieces of evidence. He wasn’t sure if that was some kind of learning opportunity about making the best of things, or if the man was a complete psychopath and he should stop being friends with him. Arthur couldn’t decide.

  Towards the end of the hallway was a staircase leading down behind a steel door with a metal push-bar. At the bottom was another door, with an opaque glass window and stenciled print that had been removed, leaving only a scratched stain. The detective opened the door, then closed it behind him. In front of him was yet another door. This one was large, and heavy. There was no obvious handle, just an electronic keypad. Next to the door was a window so small so you could only see the face of the person behind it, with a small opening at the base for passing of documents, keys, or other things. Behind the glass was a pale, young looking fellow, his face lit up blue by a laptop that must’ve been directly in front of him, but invisible to anyone outside due to the window’s layout, making it instead seem like his face just naturally glowed fluorescent blue.

  Without looking up he spoke politely. “Detective, how can I help you?”

  Arthur didn’t respond, just giving a bemused stare back.

  “Detective?”

  He continued to say nothing. It took a few moments, but finally the receptionist grinned ever so slightly, before pressing an intercom button and speaking softly into it. Arthur knew the receptionist always played dumb with guests, like he got some sick satisfaction out of annoying people and making their lives harder. He also knew to not give him that satisfaction. The large, metal door creaked open just an inch. Asshole, the detective thought. He must’ve been down here twenty times in the past few months. That kid hadn’t even bothered to learn his name, but knew what he was here for every time, and yet every single time acted like he didn’t know him. Asshole, the detective thought again.

  Inside was a room temperature cooled office space that kept six different workers, all sitting in the same large room at open desks spread throughout, all tapping away at computers. Each computer was a sophisticated, expensive looking piece of modern machinery with numerous wires and sleek monitors hooked up and organized very neatly. Behind each desk was a small storage closet, and as the workers typed away every so often they were filing information in cabinets, desks, and drawers behind them. Paper records weren’t exactly a new concept, but Arthur figured with how often he saw them down here filing away this place should be completely full up. But it never was, which meant all the information down here went somewhere else. But that wasn’t his business.

  None of the workers even looked up as the detective entered, mindlessly keeping to their tasks. Even though they were animated, had food and drinks next to their computers, and coughed, sneezed or made sounds every so often, they seemed…off. They always gave the detective the creeps. Like they were just automatons there disguised as humans. But he didn’t get to observe for long, and didn’t make a fuss, because a moment later the single office door at the other side of the room opened. A man beckoned him in, so he approached. As he entered the office, he sat down.

  The figure on the other side of the desk was…interesting. He was short, wore business professional clothes that were far too large for him, and wore a single huge golden ring on his middle right finger with some sort of crest the detective didn’t recognize. But, his face was grotesque. His nose was far too long, crooked like a witch’s. He had boils, or pimples maybe, scattered on his face. His ears were sharp and long as well, and his skin was covered in pockmarks and strange lumps. One of his eyebrows was misshapen and overgrown, nearly twice as thick as the other. His fingers and hands looked diseased, his nails long and dirty. He looked like he had leprosy, and his hair was thin and wispy. Suffice it to say, the man was outwardly disgusting.

  On top of that, his voice matched his appearance, coming across as scratchy and strained. But, he was actually quite pleasant. Despite being unpleasant to listen to or to look at, but the contents of his speech was always considerate. Arthur figured the man was some sort of ironic, walking example of don’t judge a book by it’s cover. “Ah, Arthur, welcome back. I’m assuming everything went well.”

  That’s one way to put it, Arthur thought, but just nodded. From what he understood, this dingy, seven man operation was an important information processing and brokering center to a client that wasn’t necessarily involved with the police force. How they managed to get an office space here was a mystery, but Arthur had been working directly with them for a little less than a year and they never seemed to have issues. However, he knew better to ask, and he also knew that what he did here helped him in multiple ways; he got case information faster, he was able to see sealed files without jumping through hoops, and he was paid a pretty sum for passing along sensitive case documents that would otherwise be locked up tight. And, he figured, if they somehow had this all going on literally underneath the noses of the forensics team upstairs, they somehow had to have a connection with the department. So his clients couldn’t have been all bad. At least that’s what he told himself every time he saw an envelope full of money.

  So, he just didn’t ask.

  “Sure,” Arthur finally replied, placing the manila envelope on the desk between them among a scattering of cheap baubles, fine jewelry, and disorganized thumb drives. “Nothing conclusive on our end yet. Whatever happened, did in a weird order. That’s all we got.”

  “Good, good, just how we want it,” the creature rasped, causing Arthur to raise an eyebrow that went ignored. “Oh, also I was instructed to give you this.” He said, handing Arthur a cheap, old phone. “The old phone has been compromised.”

  Arthur tried to keep the worry off his face, simply just nodding and taking the new phone, depositing his old burner in the trashcan. This…person, wasn’t his boss by any means, but he found it better to listen to his advice. Arthur waited for a moment, the man now engrossed in the contents of the envelope. Almost a full minute later, Arthur cleared his throat, causing the figure to look up disdainfully for just a moment, before smiling a black toothed grin.

  “Of course, of course. How could I forget.” He reached into a drawer of the desk, retrieving a smaller, white envelope full of bills and handing it over to Arthur. Arthur didn’t bother counting the money, just slipped the envelope into his coat pocket. It would be three thousand, like usual. And, he trusted the man in a strange way. He never asked details, or poked more than he had to, and always was professionally courteous. He found it better to maintain relationships that way.

  “Thanks, Benny. Anything else?”

  Benny ignored him completely now, totally absorbed by the new information he had received via the manila envelope, as if it were some kind of treasure trove of gold. He just nodded to the monstrous figure and left the office. As soon as he exited the building, his new burner phone made a beeping noise. There was a notification letting him know he had a new text message. That was fast. He recognized the number immediately. It was from the same people who usually contracted him to do these little side deposits of police information.

  The text only gave him an address. ‘McFadden Circle Outlet, 2nd floor.’ He sighed. It was going to be a long day.