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Grabbing a chewy pastry filled with mystery meat before she left and checking in with her few market friends had kept the severed hands and torn flesh from her mind for a while, but as soon as her head hit her pillow it came back. What did it all mean? The sigils had haunted her dreams, which made for a restless sleep. When her little retro alarm clock finally chimed, she felt as if she had risen from the dead. She dragged herself out of bed, cursing all and sundry.
Her cramped apartment was fiendishly bright in the mornings, and this one was no different. Tessa sat naked on the bed, caught up in her sleepy thoughts. She always knew that Damien had liked her for a long time. He had never made a secret of that. Slowly, before she was even aware of it, she had begun to have feelings back for him. It helped that Damien had always been a perfect gentleman to her and had never pressured her or made her feel threatened. What on Earth was she going to do about it all today? All she knew right now was that she had to haul her naked ass into gear. Tessa wandered slowly into the bathroom, yawning and scratching her frizzy mess of a morning hairstyle.
Half an hour later she was primped, preened and ready to go. She had it down pat, and a hell of a lot of concealer helped with the lack of sleep issue. A quick coffee, as dark and muddy as swamp water, and a short walk later Tessa was at the dump site, staring numbly at the wall. Dark magick clung to every crack and crevice, completely destroying her hope that this would be at all simple. She stared up at the muddy red bricks, towering up each side of the tenements around. Dirt alighted on each, greasy with unknown muck. Some parts had soft respite in the form of small patches of moss, the only plant to grow in these parts.
The dark magick may not be visible, but she could feel it, dripping gently from each brick like the dubious water that often flowed down the sides of inner-city buildings. She memorised its signature, its etheric scent. Powerful spells carried the unique mark of the caster, something that could be tracked and identified. This was sweet, disgustingly so, and woven into it was pure chaos. The caster was not sane in any sense of the word. That was a given really, as evidenced by the bodies of the people they had killed.
Damien appeared out of the shadows of what Tessa assumed was an intersecting alleyway, grinning at her in his usual idle manner. He was acting as if last night had never even happened. Fine by Tessa. She preferred to work without distractions.
'Hey witchy-poo. Find any good'n?' he growled in his casual Bayton soaked accent.
'Yeah, work. This place is saturated in bad energy and residual magick. Whatever was done here was... ugh I can't even fathom it right now. And I just can't think of why anyone would do this. Now that I know there is real magick involved there must be a reason, a ritual purpose... but I can't think what it is. All the sigils, it is all too vague, there has to be something here I'm missing... What devilry is this? Sorry, I was thinking aloud,' Tessa finished lamely; becoming aware she was tapping her lower lip absentmindedly again. She had also fallen into her classical literary language. Damien smiled slowly and lit a cigarette.
'Some sick people out'n Tessie girl, all kindsa crazy'll do anyfin fer any reason. Just gotta flick'm switch n dey go,' he muttered, idly scratching the regrowth from his now pompadour hairstyle. Tessa nodded, still frowning as she scoured the street and wall of the alley where the body had been, now only hinted at with a brown stain. Here and there seemed to be deposits of some sort of powder, but there was too little to make sure.
Still, she noted it down in her notebook, picking at the residue. At the same time, she noticed a slightly herbal smell from it, although she couldn't pick exactly what it was. She tried to scoop up as much as she could into a little bag with her small knife.
There were no visible sigils or the like on the wall or floor, but considering how many were on the body, that wasn't surprising. It wouldn't be necessary to do anything around the body. All of that power would come from the body alone. Damien cleared his throat loudly, much to Tessa's annoyance. As she turned to tell him off for interrupting her thought process, she realised they weren't alone. A scruffy, obviously high woman had oozed out of another alley to stand by Damien's side. She was short, tottering unsteadily on extremely high heels, with an ugly scrap of material on her lower half and a very revealing piece of lace on the top half. Tessa tried not to gag from her... pungent odour, as she walked over to them.
'Eh Tessie, this be Marie. She one who first seen the deadie. C'mon girl, ye tell'm what ye saw,' he said to the clearly shivering girl, a stern manner creeping into his normally relaxed demeanour. This was serious. She looked infinitely pained but spoke up.
'Aye, him dead good, gots no hand. I look him over and he all mauled up. Ain't seen no one round, but him all got powder on him, ain't drugs or naught. Smell like them magick stalls at the market, I done seen 'em. Done smelled 'em,' she finished, wavering on her heels as if the effort of simply talking had drained her. Tessa couldn't help but feel disappointed. A smell like a magickal stall could be anything, but she had the feeling the girl wouldn't remember the specific smell if she stuck it right under her nose. As if to prove a point, the girl took a massive snort of off-white powder from a small knife that seemed to come from nowhere. Damien nudged her shoulder when she was done.
'Ey girl, you finish up eh, give it to her.'
Tessa raised an eyebrow while Marie fished around in her bra, stashing her knife and finally producing a filthy purple baggie. The second the bag touched her hand, Tessa felt sick to her stomach. She was riding a wave of pain, and it swiftly drew her away from the physical world. It felt as though her own magickal power was being pulled from Tessa's very core. Quickly she dropped the baggie on the pavement, and abruptly the feeling of the evil leeching magick receded.
Digging through her patent red and completely impractical bowling bag, Tessa pulled out the tweezers she usually kept for an eyebrow emergency and her own knife again. Gingerly she pulled open the bag with her makeshift tools, keeping her bare flesh well away from it. The stench of blood magick flooded out of it, making her gag. This was the source of all the evil that clung to these walls, and they pulsed with power upon its return.
Damien and Marie watched her, one intently interested, one completely blank. Tessa used the tweezers to carefully pull out the contents. First came a small bundle of herbs, clearly starflower, echinacea and mugwort, followed by a piece of gauze with black, defiled blood, a black feather, a few hooks, one half of a lodestone with gold feeder dust all over it as well as a tiny scrap of copper with a rune she could not make out.
Times like this Tessa wished she carried her magnifying glass on her. And gloves for that matter. Blood magick made her even less keen to touch the damned thing, but she had to keep and research it.
'Well Tessie, what'n think all this litta bits is bout? Got'n reason?' Damien drawled, leaning back on the wall behind him. Marie had gone, probably slunk back into the alley to enjoy her high.
'Not really. I mean there is blood to bind it to the caster and as a sacrifice, a black feather for mystical knowledge. The herbs... I mean starflower is usually for courage, but it might be psychic skill boost, and it’s mixed with mugwort, which is usually all about astral projection. It’s all held with echinacea which is to make a spell strong. It doesn't really make any sense right now. Then there’s a lodestone... it could be there for a good purpose, but the whole thing reeks with bad magick. I need to find out what this sigil is here, and have a think,' with that she stuffed all the parts back into the bag. Emptying out a collection of poppets, she used the plastic bag to keep the evil baggie in and added zip lock bags to her mental “Disgusting Crime Scene” shopping list.
'Aye, well'n that case Imma get us onto the other spot eh? See'n what’s there,' Tessa only nodded in response, not worrying about the apartment now she had a second death.
Damien held out an arm, indicating the direction to go in and fell into step beside her as Tessa walked by. So distracted by her thoughts, Tessa allowed him to just escort her through the alleyways and streets until they came up to his gritty old muscle car. She jumped into Damien's car without really noticing, and it was only after they drove off that she realised this was the first time she had been in his car.
There was a pendulous silence brewing.
Tessa cringed at the awkwardness. She pulled out her folder of notes to cover her reaction.
'So... ummm... so where is this other dump site?' she asked, kicking herself for not asking before getting into the car of someone who was still a powerful gang leader. The man may be sweet, but there was still an inherent danger by association.
'S'over on the other side o' Bayton, down em South parts. Ain't so far... hey Tessie? Ah... ummm...'
'Wha?' mumbled Tessa, only half listening as she re-read her notes.
'Uh nothing,' Damien replied, realising that he didn’t have her attention at all, before turning up Nekromantix' Horny in a Hearse to fill out the silence. Tessa tried to ignore the music that spoke of a ghoulish love.
He kept his word, and they arrived at yet another small dingy alley almost identical to the last before the next song ended. This side of Bayton was becoming rather small, a feral urban area surrounded by the scourge that was suburbia. Unfortunately, gentrification was encroaching on their little dystopia more and more every day.
The Impala Damien prized had ground to a halt almost on top of the old dump site, and while diminished, the residue of that same evil magick still filled the air. Tessa moved quickly, searching the walls and floor for anything of interest, but aside from the remnants of a recent drug trade, the alley was bare. She hadn't really expected much after all this time, but she still hoped. Damien had waited quietly by the car as she made her passes, the shink of his lighter flint being the only thing to break the relative silence.
'So where are those pictures? I guess it's better to look at them while I am actually here,' she finished hesitantly, quite frankly she was wishing she was anywhere but here. Damien nodded, pulling a creased envelope from his back pocket and handing it over silently.
Luckily for Tessa these photos weren't anywhere near as shocking as the first lot, and it was clear that the murderer was just warming up. The same sigils were present, again with some burnt and some cut. The cuts were shallower, hesitant and more jagged. Here was a bind rune, there was one to raise power, and another one she did not immediately recognise. She jotted them all down in her notebook, and sure enough, they were exactly the same as the other murder. She noticed also that the bodies had been arranged in the same way, legs and arms akimbo. It would almost be a normal spread-eagle if it wasn't for the uncanny similarities in positioning. The stance brought to mind the Vitruvian man from art history lessons at her reviled private high school.
Then she noticed something that made her gag in horror. All of the lacerations had been done before the man had died, with extensive blood collection in the skin around most of the cuts. Quickly Tessa ripped the Agency's folder out of her bag, but the pictures could almost be carbon copies as far as timeline. Both men had been tortured by having symbols carved into their flesh while still alive, and probably conscious. Tessa snapped the folder shut angrily while suppressing the urge to run home and hide from the serial killer boogie monster. All the Agency training in the world could not prevent the visceral reaction that these moments inspired. How had no one heard this torture? Surely, he had to have screamed the neighbourhood down. Or was it done elsewhere?
'I don't suppose you found one of those baggies on him, did you? Who found him?' she asked, tearing her eyes from the pictures.
'Eh t'was street kid, I fink Bomber was 'is name. Di'nt mention no baggie, but Imma question 'im on it real good when I see 'im,' replied Damien, growing angrier as he went. Tessa resisted the urge to shrink away, feeling intimidated by the man who was previously so familiar to her. Just when she thought she knew this man, he would reveal another facet, and her perception of him was forced to change. This was the gang leader.
'I better talk to him too, I guess. Who was it? The first decedent I mean,' she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Damien scratched his head almost thoughtfully.
'T'was a fella called Scupper to us all, but reckon I'm the only one, know 'is real name. 'e was Adam Reeves.'
Tessa raised a well-drawn eyebrow.
'How is it that only you know his real name?' she asked, somewhat suspicious of his knowledge. While it was expected that the gang leader in the area would know a good deal of detail, and Damien cared more than most, this was unusual individual detail.
'E was my brother. Had a different Pa, but he was my brother all the same,' Damien fell silent, an emotion running across his face that was quickly stifled. 'So when 'im was found like 'is we thought mebbe it be a gang thing, but I still think it gotta be done, 'n find it all properly. So I took'm pictures, thought I'd ask round. But there ain't no bit goin'. Thought mebbe you help me bein an investigator 'n all,' he finished, blushing slightly before he turned away. Tessa tilted her head, confused about the blush, but she quickly dismissed any deeper meaning. Now she understood why he had been so oddly diligent when suspicious deaths were par for the course in Bayton.
'We will find out why these deaths are occurring Dame, and find who did them. I have no doubt they are connected. I might get us some help too, with all of that magick around they might be able to sense something more.' Tessa mused on the idea, this did seem like a good time to get a little demonic aid, and it was protocol to do so. Plus, she was slightly off put by a body being dumped so close to her home. Having a resident demon would be handy for her nerves.
'Don't want some other Agency goofball sniffing round me none,' he said mulishly. Tessa could practically see him digging his heels in. She sighed, finding it both frustrating and endearing. If it was one thing she understood, it was the value of privacy.
'It's not like that, I was thinking of summoning a demon to help, that's all. It's the protocol on a case like this.' She almost audibly groaned as Damien's eyes bugged out of his head. The Agency and other magickal users may know the truth of demons, but much of the hoi polloi did not, clinging desperately to the old ways. Something about the devil you know, and all that.
'Look, I don't really want to explain it all in this alley, it gives me the creeping willies, can we go get that lunch and I can tell you all about it,' she said, trying not to be frustrated with the ways of the mundane, especially this particular mundane. He was one of her favourites. Those were rare.