[google-font https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alice] [size15 [Alice If there was one lesson he’d learned in all his years it was that death was only the beginning. In fact, he could hardly remember the time before it... but he could recall with vivid clarity exactly how he died. A hand. A bloody red hand lifted before his eyes and then... nothing.
That had been so many decades ago, he rarely thought about it anymore. The rage had been reduced to a simmer and now he was using those talents for more rewarding work, at least that’s what he told himself. While his murderer had been long dead, there were still many others willing to tamper with the peace of society. It wasn’t a necessarily rewarding occupation but it was a living- figuratively speaking.
Mr. Pleasant stood in his office within the Sanctuary of Dublin, rereading the notice that was left in a generic envelope on his desk. One of those [i ‘Oh, you know, you’re getting too ahead of yourself, Detective. We think you need a babysitter because damn it, you’re too talented for your own good that you’re not using the resources at your disposal or calling the proper authorities when you apprehend a criminal. That’s a no, no and now you need to partner up with an official from across the country because we’re the bosses, blah blah. Boo hoo.’] kind of letters. For this lass to be assigned to him, she must have been a nuisance in her precinct as well.
Miss Theva should be arriving close to noon. If he left now, he should be able to make it to his interrogation early, without crossing paths with her. Enough time for the agent to realize he wasn’t at the office after all and figure out that the dead man left without her as a sign of sovereignty. No better way to get a message across than by avoiding her in the first place.
The skeleton man was wearing a face that had cropped, blonde hair and blue eyes today. Sorcery had all sorts of practical uses especially for the undead who couldn’t very well walk around in the non-magic world as they were. Mr. Pleasant relied on illusions, a fake skin that looked very real to the common man but almost felt like silicone when touched.
He left an obvious clue regarding his whereabouts for Miss Theva to find and proceeded to the basement where an man found at the scene of a murder was corwering in a cell waiting for his interrogation. It was difficult nowadays to pin down the location of a serial killer when the supernatural community was so divided on it’s politics. Some would say the people they murdered deserved it since they would primarily target non-magic folk. Cultists have spread across the country feigning ignorance as part of their twisted religion and protecting the true criminals. So far there were five dangerous individuals protected by these [i Purists].
Pleasant took the steps quickly to the basement holding cells, passing through the metal gate opened by a skinny, dull eyed man. He flipped through the manilla folder that was handed to him, noting the date of incident, name and body count. May 24th, Ryan McColf age 37, three bodies found in his suburban home. He was the father of the household. Wife, thirteen year old and nine year old were found with their throats slashed. The father had no blood on his person or any history of violence. Murder weapon was also missing.
He closed the folder, already coming up with his usual conclusions which would have to be dutifully explained to his new charge. Sounded like more trouble than it was worth. [i Speaking of...]
Mr. Pleasant in his tailored gray suit, turned towards the staircase behind the iron bars. With a smile, he waved at the woman casually. [#007af5 “I don’t usually tolerate tardiness but since it’s our first meeting, I don’t hold it against you.”]]]