Light beamed through holes in the wall and the front door of the house that was left ajar. The foyer was turned into a room of gloom where most color had been washed out. Four paramedics, which appeared to be little more than silhouettes, entered with purpose. The three women in the hallway were quickly approached by two of the EMTs so that their injuries could be tended to. The other two were directed toward the back room where they found the reason they had been called.
Mark appeared to be the one most in need of care by the amount of spilled blood. However, when examined, he was seemingly uninjured. That did not mean he was in any okay condition. Worse than just being unconscious, he was unresponsive.
With Mark in a state where little could be done for him, the EMTs attempted to work on Emily because of the drastic nature of her injuries. But she refused any aid until they took care of him, even fighting against her helpers, swinging her arms without concern for the pain, and loudly demanding without care if anybody thought she was crazy. The EMTs felt forced to oblige otherwise the situation would only be prolonged. So, Mark was wheeled out on a stretcher to be transported to the hospital.
Back in the hall, the examination of the others had begun. First was Olivia who had bruises all over. Shallow cuts covered her, mostly her hands, and many small pieces of glass were embedded under her skin. There were also signs of a mild concussion from what appeared to be whiplash. She was given a neck brace, and tweezers were used to remove shards. Next was Rachael who had a large, jagged gash across her hand that had been novicely dressed with a washcloth. A severe bruise also covered her side from what could have only been caused by a fall. A closer examination found a few cracked ribs. The only thing to be done at the moment was to rebandage the cut. And Marcy, as these situations always ended up, regardless of how much blood and dirt covered her, was without injury. No matter the seriousness of the injury or lack thereof, each was expected to come to the hospital.
That was when Detective Gram stepped into the house and brought a pause to any decisions. He looked at the three women and their two helpers but said nothing. Then he began to walk toward the back room. A nervous air was left lingering as he passed through the hallway.
Emily had become frustrated with the EMTs. The flayed area of flesh was disinfected and bandaged, but her broken fingers remained untreated for important reasons. She kept demanding, “Just reset them.”
“We have to take you to the hospital before that,” repeated the EMT that had come back to examine her. “Your hand needs to be x-rayed first.”
The beads rattled drawing attention to the detective who instructed the EMT to, “Do as she asked.”
The EMT was caught off guard and blurted a “What?”
“Go on,” the detective was insistent.
“She needs x-rays before we do any of that,” the EMT urged again.
“Does she look like she cares?” Detective Gram pointed out.
“You’re being serious.” The EMT was flabbergasted. “We have protocol—”
“Huh,” Detective Gram interrupted. “How odd. It seems I don’t care either. Just reset her hand. I need to talk to them. But I can’t until you’re done here.”
The EMT shook his head disapprovingly. He was not surprised that the injured were being unreasonable. Shock often caused people to make rash decisions. But a police officer perpetuating the behavior was far more than unexpected. Something must be going on which was not to be asked about. There was simply do as the detective had told.
Crack and pop. Emily wince and cried in great pain as her first finger was forced back into place. Only three more to go, each going to be as painful as the one before.
Detective Gram began to walk around the house to examine the scene further. There was not much to detail about the backroom kitchen or the dining room. Only a single bullet casing was recovered, as well as there being a light amount of damage from stray ballistics—
A cry was heard as another finger was forced back in place.
Moving to the living room found where most of the damage was concentrated. The wall to the front of the building had been shredded by gunfire and left in such a state of devastation that, at any moment, it could collapse. And the furniture in the room was just as damaged that any one of the pieces might fall apart if even just touched. Glass, splinters, and fluff covered the floor—
Another cry became background noise as another finger was fixed.
Detective Gram finished his lap by passing through the just-as-damaged hallway, and while doing so, ushered Rachael, Marcy, and Olivia to follow. When they reentered the back room, Emily’s final finger was reset, and she cried out one last time.
“Are you done with their injuries?” Detective Gram pressed for an answer from the EMT.
“I am,” the EMT responded then followed with a final attempt to do his job, “But we should really take them to the hospital for further examination. This one probably needs a cast.”
“Throw on a quick splint and then leave,” the detective excused. “I insist.”
The EMT argued no further as he strapped a simple hand-splint on Emily before packing his supplies and stepping out with an upset disposition.
Now that it was just the five of them left in the house, Emily rubbed her hand and curst, “Christ.” But the blurted word was not about any pain or discomfort. Her real worry was about, “The damn medical bills are going to take years to pay off.”
“Are you sure that’s what you should be worrying about?” Detective Gram questioned. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, expertly popping one from the packaging which he pulled the rest of the way out with his lips. “Not concerned about your husband? He’s probably in a coma, you realize?” Then he lit the smoke.
“I’m more concerned than you would ever know,” Emily assured, then turned the question on the detective, “Should you be doing that around us injured women?”
“You women have me stressed the fuck out,” he declared. He pointed at Marcy, “You’re an escaped mental patient.” Then to Olivia who looked very uncomfortable, “This one sideswiped my car and drove me over a cliff.” Then to Rachael but he did not have anything to say about her. His accusative gesture was turned to Emily, “Now, I’m standing in your bullet-riddled house. Strangely, we didn’t get any calls about gunfire in the area. The only call came from you saying there were intruders on the premises. But this is far from just a fucking home invasion.”
“There were perception blockers,” Rachael answered as if that would explain anything.
“The Witch Hunters, huh?” he presumed.
“Was Marcy the one to say that?” Emily assumed and believed that would only make telling any truth or lie now impossible to convey.
“I know you won’t believe us—” Rachael began only to be interrupted.
“No,” Olivia was the culprit. “He will. He listened to me and Marcy even after I almost killed him.”
“You almost killed him?” Emily was surprised. “So, you really did sideswipe him like he said.”
“It was an accident,” Olivia assured.
Clap! Detective Gram had slapped his hands together before the topic changed. “Come on. Let’s stay on track.”
“Sorry,” the three women apologized for their digression.
Then Emily, remaining skeptical of the detective, sought some kind of assurance, “Can we really trust you?”
“This city is a protectorate,” Detective Gram declared, and that declaration revealed how involved he must truly be with the supernatural world of Darkess Noir. “The only way for that to actually be the case is if those in charge of law and order were aware. I’m not saying every officer is spiritually conscious, but I am one who is. I’ve seen many monsters in my time. Hell, I work with a few of them now and then.”
“So,” Emily continued, now curious about the past, “If those in charge are aware of the supernatural world then why was Marcy vilified so harshly?”
“She did kill a man,” he stated the known fact. “There are still rules even for those not of this world. Going around killing is a very important one. Otherwise, co-existence would be impossible. We’d all already be dead.”
“What about now?” Emily wondered. “You know the truth. Shouldn’t she be acquitted from all her crimes—”
“And maybe you can help us?” Olivia suddenly had the idea and added. “With the Witch Hunters?”
“Them being in the city can be detrimental to the balance between our worlds,” Rachael also had something to add, hoping that saying more might sway the detective’s opinion and decision.
“That’s if there are any,” the detective confronted. “You keep claiming there are Witch Hunters but all we’ve found are unidentifiable bodies left in your wake. From what I can tell, you’re the problem.” He tapped his finger.
“You know the truth,” Marcy declared her doubt of his ignorance. “You keep tapping your finger for some reason. But that’s not just a nervous tick. Nor is the smoking. In fact, that’s probably the reason why you chain smoke.” Detective Gram leaned back as he took a drag on his cig to wait patiently to see where this was going. “You smell like rain …”
“Thank you,” he took the compliment before blowing smoke to hopefully cover up that smell.
“… That’s a pure aroma,” Marcy knew. “Something that would probably cause trouble for you with ghosts and ghouls. You’re an Altered like myself, but a Heavenly vessel, aren’t you?”
“My mom did say I was her little Angel,” he joked.
“You know the truth,” Marcy iterated. “And we’re asking you for help.”
“That is my job—”
That was when the conversation was interrupted by Detective Gram’s cellphone ringing. He turned away a little as he looked at who might be calling and was quick to step away when he knew the answer and needed to answer. Though, he did not actually go that far of a distance, remaining close enough to still be seen and heard. Only the caller on the other side of the line was not audible.
“Ahuh,” he acknowledged whatever was being said to him. “Yeah. You sure?” He looked over his shoulder at the women. “Alright. I’ll let them know.” He stepped back into the conversation he had been having before the interruption happened. “I’ve got good news and bad news. Which will it be first?”
They looked at each other to silently communicate their opinion which was never really determined. Instead, Emily spoke for them all, “The bad news first, I guess.”
“The good news is …” the detective gave instead since there was an order to the information he intended to relay. Asking what they wanted to hear first was not going to change what he gave first. He was just acting somewhere between nice and mocking. “The DNPD will not interfere with you and whatever you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“Are you serious?” That was surprising.
“Who called you?” Marcy was the one to bring that into question. “This seems like there is a conspiracy going on here.”
“The bad news is …” he continued without ever having the intention of answering her probing, “don’t expect help from the DNPD either. You need to fix this problem on your own. And quickly. Otherwise, we will get involved and there will be no protecting you.”
“Protecting us?” Marcy did not feel that was the case.
“Perhaps I have yet to provide any protection,” he admitted. “But things will change, one way or another. For now, I leave this to you.” That was when the detective began making his leave. There was an expectation that he was going to stop and say something right before he was gone for good. Maybe wish them luck. But he did none of that as he exited the house without another word.
There were no more intruders left and the tension each woman felt was finally released like a tight wire as the anticipation no longer affected them. They remained quiet for a short time to gather their thoughts and let their bodies relax.
Marcy, after having an internal debate between the concern for her friend and the concern for the situation, spoke up, choosing the former, “Are you okay, Emily?”
Emily sighed, knowing the question was coming and dreading it. “Not at all,” words were just as much like a sigh. “After I was branded, I’d given up there for a moment. It wasn’t long but I hated feeling that weak.”
“None of us want to be made to feel that way,” Marcy shared the sentiment. “But we all will sometimes. I don’t think the world will allow us to be unshakable. Though, what I think real strength is is to not be held down by those feelings. Which means you must be really strong. There are very few people that would be able to skin themselves, even for the sake of another.”
“I’m not that upset about being beaten,” Emily played off. “I’m more worried about Mark … and what happened to Ligaya,” the guilt was stressed in her voice.
“What even happened?” Rachael wanted to know.
“The Hunters attacked, obviously,” Emily began by repeating. “I’d like to say I put up a fight, but I really couldn’t fight back at all. It was over in seconds. I don’t know who he was—”
“I …” Marcy gently interrupted, raising her hand slightly to take over the conversation, “fought him … and he beat me, too. I believe he’s an Altered similar to the detective.”
“I can definitely believe that he’s not human,” Emily apathetically jested. “He threatened Mark’s life. I had to summon Ligaya. I was pretty sure I knew what would happen if I did. But I did it anyway,” her voice was starting to sound choked. “What else could I do?” Her tone suddenly rose. “I had lost so much already. I couldn’t lose him, too. But— What else could I do?” She became mute, aware that continuing would draw out her painful expressions. She would rather keep those sealed away for now. Staying stable was what she needed to do to deal with the problem. Then she could grieve.
Rachael could not help but look at her injured hand after hearing the declaration. Proper gauze now covered the gash, but she recalled the cloth that was first used. She had not bandaged herself up, certain she had passed out right after speaking with The Raven Man. That meant the one to do so must have been Ligaya.
Ligaya had easily shown compassion toward another who had disregarded her throughout the years. She truly was a good soul it finally seemed to sink in. And now she was gone with that realization coming too late. The relationship would never be reconciled.
The failing dragged Rachael down into deep regret. But “We can’t change anything that’s already happened,” she understood and conveyed, hoping Emily might understand as well. “Let’s focus on finishing this, together.”
“What about Andy?” Emily reminded Rachael of her priority.
“We do this together,” Rachael firmly declared once more. “I’ve put myself above each of your feelings—”
“No, you haven’t,” Emily quickly defended. “You’ve been pretty selfless, trying so hard to save your brother—”
“You’re wrong,” Rachael retook the conversation. “Trying to save him is for me more than anyone else. Even more for me than for him. And look what my selfishness has caused. Had I been here, I can’t say that nobody would have gotten hurt, but I could have done something to stop it. Instead, I abandoned you all. To be attacked,” Emily. “To be arrested,” Marcy. “Told you to go home,” Olivia. “I don’t know how you must have felt but … I would have felt lonely. Shit.” She started tearing up as she thought about how lonely Ligaya must have been throughout the years, left abandoned. “No more thinking of myself. We’re a sisterhood, right? Or … we were once, at the very least. Whatever we are, we do this together from now on. Otherwise, this is bound to happen again, and we’ll probably all end up dead.”
Emily smiled through her sadness in clear agreement.
Marcy was in as much agreement even if her demeanor did not change.
Olivia found solace in being accepted by the group but had a concern she needed to voice, “Are we really going to do nothing for Andy?”
“We will save him once we finish this,” Rachael assured. “For now, we just hope that Andy … We just hope for Andy. That’s all we do. Because the Hunters will keep hurting us and getting in the way until they’re stopped.”
“Okay,” Olivia accepted. Then, under her breath, she pleaded, “Please still be alive.”
“How do we find them?” Rachael moved forward with the plan.
“Well, how did you find me?” Olivia asked.
Marcy shook her head, knowing, “There’s no going back to that place ever again.”
“Which is unfortunate,” Rachael recognized. “The Hunters would have covered their tracks like before, maybe even more thoroughly since we already found them once.”
“Well,” Emily had an epiphany, “I think I know a way. Even though it happened so fast, and I had tried to block it from my mind while it was happening …” she did not want to finish the sentence, afraid of the recollection. But there was no proceeding without speaking, “I recognized The Prayer of Righteous Michael was used when … Ligaya was exorcised.”
The reminder became a burden on the mood. Each felt a heavy weight for their failings and took a silent moment to wonder what could have been done.
First to break free was Olivia who needed to ask because she understood the least, “What is so important about this prayer?”
Rachael took a breath to compose herself as she explained, “The Prayer of Righteous Michael is an invocation used when conducting Christian exorcisms. The thing is, to use any of these prayers, you don’t just say the words, you need to have the book to read them from as well. That makes this pretty easy actually.” She was beginning to glow with some relief. “The only book that could have been used would be The Apocalypse of John. That book is very rare. And our Hunter friend is carrying one around. All we need to do is simply scry to find his location.”
“That easy?” Even Olivia understood that scrying was basic magic.
“We might have to use boosting spells,” Rachael professed, “but yeah, if their leader is actually carrying around that rare book, we can find them using this method.”
“Seems too easy,” Olivia said objectively.
“Possibly a trap?” Rachael did hold concern.
“Either way,” Emily did not seem worried whether that was the case or not, “let’s get this done.”
“Okay,” Marcy intervened, “but what do we do when we find them?”
“Well …”
“Kill them?” Marcy held up her hands for display to represent how much hers were stained. “Could you?”
“Yes,” Emily said without a second thought.
“You’re not afraid to damage your soul?” Marcy reminded them of the consequences.
“You haven’t lost yours, apparently,” Emily remarked. “And we’ve already killed a bunch of them.”
“I haven’t lost my soul because I didn’t want to kill any of the people that I killed,” Marcy presented while also defending herself. “No matter how much you think I enjoy killing, I don’t actually. I did it out of necessity. And you killed people inadvertently. But if we go down this path of seeking their deaths …” she let the silence fill in the blank.
Emily thought back to what had just happened to her and Mark. She was angry. But she recognized her anger and knew not to let that emotion influence what needed to be done. And without it, she understood she was not a killer. So, she thought about what they could do and came up with, “We can seal them away.”
“That could work,” Rachael deliberated. “Though, getting them to stand still to be sealed might be difficult.”
“We don’t have to use conventional means,” Emily explained. “When they attacked, I tricked one into opening the bathroom door. He got sucked inside. I don’t think he died, but I’m certain he’s never coming back. If we can replicate that, we should be able to get rid of the Hunters easily enough. But this is really up to you, Rachael. You’re the only one I know capable of bending the rules to make these things.”
“That was an accident,” Rachael warned. “I didn’t even know what I left on the other side of that door. Should we really risk everything on luck?”
“You’re the luckiest, most blessed person I know,” Emily said as a fact. “This won’t be random chance. I know you can do it.”
“I’ll try but what if I can’t?” Rachael remained cautious. “What is our backup plan?”
“We might just have to turn this into a fistfight,” Marcy claimed. “If we have to fight that guy, we’ll need to fight him together. I don’t think it would be possible to win any other way.”
“That means subduing the other Hunters first,” Emily deliberated off Marcy’s comment. “While you set up the trap,” Rachael, “Marcy will protect you. Olivia and I will have to take care of the rest. That shouldn’t be too much for me to handle. There are only three of them left. And from what I could tell, none of them are Altered.”
“You want me to fight?” Olivia was caught off guard by the inclusion, happy to be a part of it but terrified of what that meant.
“You’re with us now,” Emily assured. “I promise to do what I can to make sure you don’t get hurt again. Just watch my back, okay?”
“Okay,” Olivia halfheartedly promised, still very much uncertain about many things.
Emily attempted to remove those uncertainties by approaching Olivia, taking the brace off from around her neck, and beginning to heal her wounds. “Let’s get you into fighting shape.”
“You don’t need to,” Olivia spoke against such action. “You should save your magic for what’s to come since I’m afraid you’ll probably do all the fighting.”
“I’ve got plenty,” Emily said otherwise. “And I know you’re strong.”
Marcy stepped up to be in line with an offering for Olivia as well, “And I’ve got something I’d like to teach you.”
“And,” Rachael seemed eager to be a part of the gift-giving, “I’ve got a lesson I want to show you, too.”
Olivia looked at each of them feeling more bewildered than anything. Then she expressed so happily, “Thank you, all.”