December 28th, 2016 - Police Station, Records Office Miraculously, Andromeda's theory worked. Once Eudora jumped, everyone quickly joined hands with each other, falling out from 1929 and landing in 2016 in what appeared to be a records office. Broken chains littered the floor near the wall, with pieces of the wall itself damaged and broken. There were no holes straight through, rather chunks of wall having been yanked out. A dismantled and broken stapler sat near the pile of chains, as well as a dark cloak crumbled up in yet another pile.
Eudora will recognize the cloak instantly, despite never having seen one in her life just like it. While to ordinary individuals, it will look like a cloak--but she will sense something unsettling about it, something that had only been written about before. All others who have seen that cloak died within a day of glimpsing it. For the cloak belongs to a kumakatok, a death spirit that according to Filipino legend visits an individual to warn them of their impending death.
"This is the station," Andromeda murmured, her eyebrows furrowed.
"But it looks more like..." "Someone's been held hostage here," Folly chimed in quietly, finishing Andromeda's thought. Goosebumps were running up and down the child's arm, and she kept glancing over at Fairfax, as if the man would turn into dust at any moment. Fairfax was presently crouched on his knees, smiling through what looked like intense pain. His entire body was trembling and Folly couldn't help but sigh.
"I'll be fine!" Fairfax promised, taking a few deep breaths. They seemed to steady him as he crawled to his feet, sweat dripping down his face. "Guess the future doesn't quick agree with me!" He laughed, as if it was a funny and charming thing.
"John, you mustn't learn anything about yourself while you are here," Folly warned gravely. "Do not seek out descendants, if you have any. Do not attempt to look for records of what will happen." She didn't give any reasoning as to why Fairfax shouldn't, but the man nodded in understanding. They didn't know what damage they were doing to reality, after all. Any methods of precaution would be helpful.
"The police are supposed to be going door to door soon," Andromeda said, eyeing the clock on the wall. It was almost six.
"We've got an hour till curtain." December 28th, 2016 - Cirque Anomaly, Main Tent "And I would prefer for my wife to be alive, but we can't all get what we want," Boris replied scathingly to Thalia, eagerly waiting for the cards to be revealed. Faust continued to glance over towards Thalia all the same, as if the stress hadn't been from the knives thrown at him, but by her presence. It was as if he knew something about her that no one else did, that he could
see something in her eyes that frightened him.
And when Lilith examined the cards, all three would be the death card. All three would be facing upwards. Just like Boris had boasted.
"What's in my future, then?" Faust asked, a bit of a nervous twitch in his left eye. The spirits that hovered near him, only visible to Lilith at this point, were a mixture of angry and afraid.
December 28th, 2016 - Coventry Horrors, Parking Lot There's no trouble with starting the engine and traffic is still clear. Skid marks are present near the exit of the parking lot, indicating a car having headed in the direction of Salem. What a coincidence, huh? There's no reply from Aloise either over the phone and the note itself isn't all too helpful... But of course, time is starting to run out. He'll need to leave Coventry soon to catch the killer at the station.
Detective Hanson & Agent Keenan
The former-Satanist detective, Walter Hanson, and the ex-Boston PD O.M.E.N. agent, Carbry Keenan, made quite a pair. Each armed with a decent piece and then some, they had run out of the hotel and across the street in less than a minute, squinting up at the water tower. There was no sign of the sniper that had taken Seraphina's life anymore, and while Keenan looked around the immediate area, Hanson instantly started to climb up the ladder.
"Hey! Asshat! The snipah is long gone!" Keenan shouted out, yet Hanson didn't cease in his climb.
Keenan swore before putting his piece in his holster and climbing up after the ex-detective, wishing to god or any other being that he had put a bullet in Hanson's head long ago, that he had already crossed the man off. After all of the death and suffering Hanson had caused, sparking the Altsoba massacre, he didn't deserve to live a minute longer.
"You're wastin' time!" Keenan growled, glaring at Hanson by the time he joined the man on the platform. But Hanson either didn't hear him or didn't care, staring at his fingers, practically mesmerized.
"It's paint!" Hanson said proudly, turning to grin at Keenan, only to find a gun pointed at his head. "Don't you get it? This shitty thing got paint on it recently--probably by some dumb ass kids." He then nodded towards a brilliant attempt at graffiti or a mural. It was sloppy and messy, done with actual thick paint brushes rather than with a can. It couldn't have been done more than a few hours ago either.
"So what?" Keenan asked, his impatience growing exponentially. "Some punks didn't know how to vandalize propahly--how's that gonna take the bullet out of that girl's heart, huh? How's that gonna help that poor kid?"
Hanson held his hands up, stepping back slowly. The gun was still trained on him, hence his caution, but the moment he stepped away things became clear enough. The paint had started to dry and harden, but its amount made it into a blob almost. The indent of a knee was perfectly captured in the blue paint.
"That ain't gonna stay on well," Hanson pointed out. "If we're lucky--and damn straight, I hope we are--we might be able to follow them for a while. This'll make a trail."
Keenan slowly put his gun away and nodded. The trail wouldn't last more than a block, but it would at least point them in the right direction. He held up a finger and pulled out his phone, speaking quickly into it. "This is Agent Keenan. Get forensics up on the watah towah across from the Coventry Horrors Hotel. Top priohity, need it done A.S.A.P."
He then ended the call and shoved his phone away. "Let's get this asshole, then."
The next few minutes went relatively well for the odd duo. They climbed down from the water tower, and sure enough, small clumps of blue paint made a trail headed east. They kept on looking, only to sigh in dismay as the trail stopped a block down. Of course, Hanson was standing there, smiling like the cat who ate the canary, while Keenan was kicking at the ground in frustration.
"You never worked homicides, did you?" Hanson mused, tapping the sign on the street corner.
"What the hell does that mattah for?" Keenan growled, half tempted to empty his clip into Hanson right then and there, and be done with the man.
"Bus stop sign. You snipe someone, you wanna get out of town. Contract hit, maybe. Either way, you run. And this stop," Hanson paused, checking a few facts on his phone, "services a shuttle to the train station over in Salem. Twenty miles separating the cities. And
that station hooks up to the Boston commuter rail."
"So you think the killah hopped the bus and went to the station?" Keenan asked, seemingly unconvinced. "That's a lot of guessin' and not a whole lot of real detective work, pal."
Hanson snorted slightly. "They're doin' a door to door manhunt for Valeska at six, agent. Why the hell would a sniper wanna stick around and get caught during that? Bus to Salem is their best bet, then they can vanish in Boston and reap the benefits of their labor."
Keenan sighed before nodding. "I'm gonna regret this shit," he said, before waving Hanson over to his car. It wasn't long before the car flew into the streets and headed towards the quickest path from Coventry to Salem. By the time Liam had gotten out of the hotel and into the parking lot, Keenan and Hanson were already long gone, only tire tracks and skid marks revealing that they had ever been there.
Aloise Zamora
Liam,
Don't do anything stupid. And yes, whatever idea that just came to you is dumb as hell. (Your ideas always are).
Aloise
P.S. I'm not joking. Remember Las Vegas? The note she had left in the room, after grabbing all of her weapons and notebooks--basically, anything she'd need for work--had been that simple and short. She had changed into a power suit and grabbed the fake CDC badge, before jumping in the bug and heading for the Police Department as fast as she possibly could. Practically everyone had ended up falling into that portal. There was no way in
hell losing any one of them as acceptable.
Parking her yellow bug outside of the station, she took a deep breath before heading towards the side entrance. It allowed access to the morgue, mostly used by EMT's transporting body bags and those who worked in the forensics department. It might have seemed to be a strange decision for the hunter, but she
knew Fiodora Valeska's body held some piece in this insane puzzle. And her body was the only one she could be certain was still in police custody.
"Hello? Dr. Cesira Lozada, CDC," Aloise called out, flashing the fake identification as she entered the morgue.
"We've been notified of a potential biohazard with the corpse of...Fiodora Valeska?" "Is anyone here?"
"Ang uniberso ay wala sa balanse..."
"Ang tela ay sinimulan upang magwasak at mapunit, mangling at sirain ang sarili nito..."
"Ina, Anghel ng Kamatayan, bakit mo pa rin ako nandito? Magagawa lamang nito ang mga bagay na mas masahol pa..."
"Bakit hindi pa nabuhay ang susunod na kumakatok?"
"Bakit ako?"
"Sino ako ngunit isang anino ng isang pagkatao, isang salamin ng isang kaluluwa?"
"Nakikita ko... Siya ay tumataas..."
