Investigation Three File Two
Investigation Three
Deaths
File Two
May 12, 20XX
Moe followed Peadar up the steps of Officer Sloan’s townhouse. The policewoman stood at the door, waiting for the other two to catch up.
“I hope you two don’t mind sharing a bed, I only have one guestroom.” Sloane said briskly as she pushed the door open and walked inside. She kicked her shoes off, Moe and Peadar followed suit.
“only one bed will be fine. We’ll probably take turns with watch, in any case.” Peadar said, neatly setting his shoes to the side of the entryway. Moe put her shoes beside his, just as neat. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt like she was trapped, the walls closing in.
“I don’t need-“ Hurley started, then huffed, shaking her head. ”Whatever. The bathroom is the first door to the right, the guestroom second. Door on the left is my room.”
“thank you. Moe, can I take your bag? I’m going to try to nap; the car ride was a bit much.” Peadar asked, eyes pleading as Moe turned him.
‘Don’t Leave me with her!’ She thought, but pulled her book out and handed her backpack over. Peadar smiled gratefully, almost with relief.
Moe watched him disappear into the guestroom before following to join Hurley in the living room. The other woman was sitting on the couch, watching the news. She stared Moe down as she adjusted her glasses and sat in an armchair.
Hurley didn’t seem to want to talk, instead investing all her attention to the news, currently talking about sport game outcomes. Moe didn’t mind, instead turning her attention to her book, a fantasy novel with human sized fairies. Fictional, of course, fairies rarely got bigger than a hand’s width. Piksies rarely grew bigger than children but were definitely bigger than fairies. True fae didn’t have wings, but were mostly human sized. Sprites were the closest name that humans had for winged fae creatures that were their size, and closest looks wise, too. True fae were inhumanly good looking, but they also had a pretty significant uncanny valley effect.
Moe looked up briefly as Hurley stood up, muttering about the bathroom. Moe nodded, finished her page, and then put the bookmark back between the pages and set it to the side.
It had gotten dark, catching Moe by surprise. She hadn’t noticed the time pass, and when she checked her watch it was nearly ten pm. She bit at her lip, hopeful she didn’t miss anything important while wrapped up in the story.
There was a thump, like something heavy dropping in another room. Moe froze, her eyes snapped to the hallway. It was cloaked in shadows, sinister stillness seeping outwards. The bathroom door was open, she could see even from her seat in the living room. Swallowing with a dry throat, Moe stood up and crept to the guestroom. Her lips mouthed the words for a silencing spell, quieting any creaks the floor would have made with her steps.
With her eyes wide and her heart racing, Moe pushed the door to the guestroom open. She saw Peadar first, the side table lamp casting light across his bleeding face. By the time Moe saw the attacker, a wolf headed woman, she had already swung the baseball bat at her. Moe dropped to the floor and heard the bat make contact with the wall. She crawled forwards to get under the bed.
The wolf woman swung the bat again and grunted with effort. She missed, but barely. Moe scrambled further under the bed, whimpering, eyes darting around for a solution.
“C’mon out, Moe.” The attacker called in Hurley’s voice, walking around the bed. Moe could see the room from the mirror on the closet door. The wolf headed woman, Hurley, had the bat over her shoulder, and she snarled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t kill you quickly, but I need you gone.”
“You’re a wulver, aren’t you?” Moe asked, voice quivering. She needed to buy time, time to think. “why are you attacking people? Your kind are often peaceful, even helpful.”
“Folklore from your neck of the woods, yes. But those fat bastards needed culled.” Hurley hissed, angrily. “They couldn’t see past their bellies to those suffering beneath themselves.”
“So, you're killing them?” Moe asked, mind awhirl with all the offensive spells she knew.
“They deserve it. Now, come on out, or I’ll make you.” Hurley snarled. Moe’s brain landed on a spell, one that Silas had taught her. She took a breath and scooted closer to the edge of the bed, just as Hurley looked under, a gun in her furry hand. Moe panicked, formed a finger gun, and then closed her eyes and pointed.
“Coratt!” the command word fell from her lips like lead. She could hear the spell fire, the cry of pain from Hurley. Quickly, Moe scrambled out from under the bed, grabbed the gun and stood up. Hurley slumped against the wall, blood steadily dripping from her shoulder. She groaned, slipping to her knees.
Moe left the gun on the side table, rushing to Hurley’s side, ready to heal.
“fuck off, healer. I ain’t going nowhere.” Hurley snarled, her fur receding back into her skin. Moe noticed the knife in Hurley’s hand too late. The blade plunged into the officer’s throat, and she gurgled, going still.
Moe backed up, mouth agape and eyes tear-filled. She heard a groan from the bed and whirled, Peadar shifting among the sheets. Moe sat beside him, hands shaking as she raised them to heal his head. Hurley must have hit him in his sleep.
After a few minutes, Peadar cracked his eyes open, looking at Moe as she cried while whispering to the wound. He blinked and tried to sit up, but Moe stopped him.
“You’re safe. I’m safe. We’re safe.” She sniffed. Peadar looked at her, wincing in pain.
“… and Hurley?” He asked, watching his coworker closely. Moe held her breath for a second, before she gave a sob. Peadar sat up, and she let him this time.
“I did my best!” She whimpered as Peadar hugged her. Hurley was still slumped against the wall, in full view. With a survey of the scene, Peadar hugged Moe closer.
“You’re safe. You did fine.”