(This is a cross-post with Wrong Turn and thanks to the devious mind of Craven Delights.)
Isuelt had removed the bandage dressing from her shoulder, much to the chagrin of her Sister, Delphinea, who barked something about infections and the RBF virus. Truth be told, Isuelt abhorred having any sort of injury. She was not an easy patient by any stretch of the imagination. Injury and illness were signs of weakness to this stubborn Scathachian; she had waved off Delphinea's warnings earlier in the evening before she left for the WestEnd District Watch House.
Once adversaries, and now partners, Isuelt was sitting on the corner of the Watch Commander's desk in the Precinct Five office. "I'm telling you, Isuelt, it's been absolutely crazy here lately," sergeant Cullen continued on his dissertation after being asked how he was doing. "First with the deal with the fountains and all hell breaking loose, then we've got the cemetery disturbances, and now this bloody outbreak that's got half of my men afraid to investigate anything lest they come into contact with someone who's got that damned fever." He let out a heavy sigh as he leaned back in his chair, contemplating the framed map of Precinct Five, otherwise known as The WestEnd, on the wall. "This city's always halfway to hell on a crazy train."
The Scathachian smirked lightly. She, too, was concerned about the issues at hand, but Cullen always had such a colorful way of putting things, that she couldn't help but squeeze even a touch of humor out the situation. "I know the fever outbreak has the Temple District on high alert. They've got people being denied entrances to the temples without proof of vaccination," even her own Scathachian Temple was following suit with that ordinance. "What's going on with the cemetery?" Her hands were resting on the hilts of her blades as she balanced her posture on the desk's edge.
"I dunno. Something about cave-ins, break-ins and graffiti," the sergeant shook his head disgustedly. "Bloody hell, Isuelt, those people went through gods know what in this crazy city, and now they're still being disturbed in death! It's enough to make me sick!"
"C"mon, Cullen," Isuelt crooned, "This is nothing new. Yes, it's sickening, but it's sickening because it is old hat. This city is a magnet for trouble. It always has been. Why do you think my Sisters and I are here?" She donned her best winning smile for the sergeant. "Now, what do you need me to do this evening?" She hadn't been by the Watch House all week, as she was still recovering from the attack by the mysterious metal-suited assailant. But she was more than ready to get back to what she did best and stop contemplating the conspiratory ideas that were swimming in her head.
"Ah," another exhale from the beleaguered sergeant as he rifled through some papers on the desk. "There are some still open-ended questions with Pumphouse 54 down at the Aqueducts. Two workers went missing, blood all over the safety harness. Supervisor reported them missing, so we drained the pumphouse and didn't find the men, but we found a shredded filter at the bottom."
Isuelt's brow lowered, her lips remained pursed as she spoke, "What does that mean?"
"It means that something got out of there in a hurry. Or in there."
The tall Scathachian's form straightened and came to a stance as she walked briefly toward the window of the Watch House office.
"I don't like the way it looked, either," Cullen's voice drifted off as his eyes blurred above the formal report. "Didn't like it at all. Same night those two other victims were found. One of them just a few damned blocks from here!"
Isuelt's profile was lit from the streetlamp as she turned her chin to parallel her shoulder. She was barely looking back to the desk, though her ears were absorbing everything.
"Dragged up to high hell after being dead. Or near dead," the venom in the sergeant's voice was sharper now. Frustration was seeping into his story telling. "Weren't no animals neither. Human bites and teeth marks all over the bodies. Sick stuff, real sick. I'm telling you, this gods damned city....Something is f*cking hunting out there, for gods" sakes!"
Her dark espresso gaze turned fully as her body pivoted away from the window. Isuelt looked down at Cullen, whose posture at the desk was deteriorating as quickly as his temper. She licked her lips and evenly exhaled; her boots making their way back toward the desk. Her long form stood in front of the Watch sergeant. "I'll go check out the Pumphouse?"
"Don't bother, I don't know what you could figure out that we couldn't," his tone was slipping into its old ways.
"Well, if something opened up that filter, then it would be from or go where" The sewers, right?" Isuelt continued as Cullen let out something of a noncommittal grunt, "And that goes where" The underbelly. The catacombs. Right' Have you guys looked down there?"
Cullen raised his gaze to meet the Scathachian's. "I really don't think it would be a good idea to go down there. Without, at least, like...like a full patrol with you. And I can't spare the men right now. Most of the shift is helping out with the clinics and the vaccination points."
"I think I can handle myself, sergeant," Isuelt's lips leaned into a smirk. "I'm quite handy with these things here," her gloved fingers drummed lightly on the scabbard at each hip. "I'll tell you what. I'll go check out what I can over by the Pumphouse and the sewer system in the area. I won't be long. I'll check back with you in a few hours. Okay?" Her long legs were already starting for the door.
"Don't make me come looking for you, DeRomiano!" Cullen's manner was laced with as much concern as he felt he could muster for the woman whose patron was a goddess of war.
Isuelt's paces stilled as she stood in front of the open door, the knob balanced in her gloved hand. She turned and looked back to the Watch sergeant behind his desk. "Wouldn't dream of it, Cullen." Making sure the door shut behind her, Isuelt was off to do a little detective work of her own.
Isuelt had removed the bandage dressing from her shoulder, much to the chagrin of her Sister, Delphinea, who barked something about infections and the RBF virus. Truth be told, Isuelt abhorred having any sort of injury. She was not an easy patient by any stretch of the imagination. Injury and illness were signs of weakness to this stubborn Scathachian; she had waved off Delphinea's warnings earlier in the evening before she left for the WestEnd District Watch House.
Once adversaries, and now partners, Isuelt was sitting on the corner of the Watch Commander's desk in the Precinct Five office. "I'm telling you, Isuelt, it's been absolutely crazy here lately," sergeant Cullen continued on his dissertation after being asked how he was doing. "First with the deal with the fountains and all hell breaking loose, then we've got the cemetery disturbances, and now this bloody outbreak that's got half of my men afraid to investigate anything lest they come into contact with someone who's got that damned fever." He let out a heavy sigh as he leaned back in his chair, contemplating the framed map of Precinct Five, otherwise known as The WestEnd, on the wall. "This city's always halfway to hell on a crazy train."
The Scathachian smirked lightly. She, too, was concerned about the issues at hand, but Cullen always had such a colorful way of putting things, that she couldn't help but squeeze even a touch of humor out the situation. "I know the fever outbreak has the Temple District on high alert. They've got people being denied entrances to the temples without proof of vaccination," even her own Scathachian Temple was following suit with that ordinance. "What's going on with the cemetery?" Her hands were resting on the hilts of her blades as she balanced her posture on the desk's edge.
"I dunno. Something about cave-ins, break-ins and graffiti," the sergeant shook his head disgustedly. "Bloody hell, Isuelt, those people went through gods know what in this crazy city, and now they're still being disturbed in death! It's enough to make me sick!"
"C"mon, Cullen," Isuelt crooned, "This is nothing new. Yes, it's sickening, but it's sickening because it is old hat. This city is a magnet for trouble. It always has been. Why do you think my Sisters and I are here?" She donned her best winning smile for the sergeant. "Now, what do you need me to do this evening?" She hadn't been by the Watch House all week, as she was still recovering from the attack by the mysterious metal-suited assailant. But she was more than ready to get back to what she did best and stop contemplating the conspiratory ideas that were swimming in her head.
"Ah," another exhale from the beleaguered sergeant as he rifled through some papers on the desk. "There are some still open-ended questions with Pumphouse 54 down at the Aqueducts. Two workers went missing, blood all over the safety harness. Supervisor reported them missing, so we drained the pumphouse and didn't find the men, but we found a shredded filter at the bottom."
Isuelt's brow lowered, her lips remained pursed as she spoke, "What does that mean?"
"It means that something got out of there in a hurry. Or in there."
The tall Scathachian's form straightened and came to a stance as she walked briefly toward the window of the Watch House office.
"I don't like the way it looked, either," Cullen's voice drifted off as his eyes blurred above the formal report. "Didn't like it at all. Same night those two other victims were found. One of them just a few damned blocks from here!"
Isuelt's profile was lit from the streetlamp as she turned her chin to parallel her shoulder. She was barely looking back to the desk, though her ears were absorbing everything.
"Dragged up to high hell after being dead. Or near dead," the venom in the sergeant's voice was sharper now. Frustration was seeping into his story telling. "Weren't no animals neither. Human bites and teeth marks all over the bodies. Sick stuff, real sick. I'm telling you, this gods damned city....Something is f*cking hunting out there, for gods" sakes!"
Her dark espresso gaze turned fully as her body pivoted away from the window. Isuelt looked down at Cullen, whose posture at the desk was deteriorating as quickly as his temper. She licked her lips and evenly exhaled; her boots making their way back toward the desk. Her long form stood in front of the Watch sergeant. "I'll go check out the Pumphouse?"
"Don't bother, I don't know what you could figure out that we couldn't," his tone was slipping into its old ways.
"Well, if something opened up that filter, then it would be from or go where" The sewers, right?" Isuelt continued as Cullen let out something of a noncommittal grunt, "And that goes where" The underbelly. The catacombs. Right' Have you guys looked down there?"
Cullen raised his gaze to meet the Scathachian's. "I really don't think it would be a good idea to go down there. Without, at least, like...like a full patrol with you. And I can't spare the men right now. Most of the shift is helping out with the clinics and the vaccination points."
"I think I can handle myself, sergeant," Isuelt's lips leaned into a smirk. "I'm quite handy with these things here," her gloved fingers drummed lightly on the scabbard at each hip. "I'll tell you what. I'll go check out what I can over by the Pumphouse and the sewer system in the area. I won't be long. I'll check back with you in a few hours. Okay?" Her long legs were already starting for the door.
"Don't make me come looking for you, DeRomiano!" Cullen's manner was laced with as much concern as he felt he could muster for the woman whose patron was a goddess of war.
Isuelt's paces stilled as she stood in front of the open door, the knob balanced in her gloved hand. She turned and looked back to the Watch sergeant behind his desk. "Wouldn't dream of it, Cullen." Making sure the door shut behind her, Isuelt was off to do a little detective work of her own.