The Havenport Files: Book One

Day 2

On the Old Mill

After a long drive, I managed to reach the scene, where I can already see the work Mel put through closing the area with the blue-and-white striped tape for my arrival; even if the chances of anyone from the city coming here to snoop around the crime scene are low, it still exists. Looking around, I only notice Mel's patrol car parked near mine, but there are no traces of the agents arriving yet; maybe they are getting used to the city's streets, and having me go before them was a terrible idea. I let out a sigh at the thought, choosing to let it to the side as I focus on another thing in my mind: those shadows.

Did that really happen? I mean, there is no way that it didn't, right? Sounds, smells, touch, everything felt so real; I guess the only way to be sure is if the scene was left as it were yesterday, as if I find that second-floor window broken or any glass shards on the ground, I will be sure of what I saw.

I guess that is what scares me more, because in the moment that I confirm that what happened was real, how will I explain that to anyone else without sounding crazy? The risk of being told to take some days off and getting more steps behind the investigation is one I'm not willing to gamble on.

Interrupting my thoughts are the sound and lights of both a motorcycle and an SUV nearing my car, ending the trail and reaching full view. Both vehicles roar one last time before coming to a full stop, parking some steps behind me on the path, and being turned off.

Taking off their helmet, Yui is the first to show their face as they lose some time checking something on their phone, seemingly a message as I catch them typing something on the screen before resting it back on their pocket. From inside the SUV, Agent Dalia and Colette climb out with serious expressions, making me believe even more that something is going on with them that is very strange.

As they all join up and spot me leaning against my car, the group of agents are quick to come closer to me. Ungluing my back from my car's door, I straighten my overcoat and soften my expression to look welcoming, or at least the most I can achieve.

"Hey, the scene is right and ready for us; should we-" I try asking, but my words seem to fail to reach agent Colette's ears as she passes by me without acknowledging my existence in the slightest, and as she does so, I'm sure I hear her grunting some words to herself that I can't quite get before they are out of reach. "Okay... I tried at least."

I feel the warmth of a gentle hand falling on my shoulder, and turning to see who's the owner of the soft touch, I'm met with a kind smile on Agent Dalia's lips—one that fits her face so well that it doesn't seem to be hard strain her keeping it alive.

"I'm sorry about her again, but take it as a good sign; she's only like that when she's serious about something." Her words serve to make me understand a little more about the frustrated woman, which helps me not care so much about how she acts. "Do you mind if, while we walk together, I ask you a few questions? You have all the right to not answer if you don't want to, of course."

"Uhm, yeah, sure; ask away." I gesture for us to start walking to the scene, and we do. She holds the tape for me so I can duck down, and I return the favor by waiting a moment longer to do the same for her and Agent Yui. As we all enter the crime scene, the promise of her questions begins to happen.

"Why did you choose to join the police force?" She asks as we walk side by side, her tall figure contrasting against mine, which has me occasionally gazing up to look at her face as we talk.

"Is it really that strange that I did?" I ask as her question sounds slightly strange to me, but knowingly, that is because I know of my own motives; she, on the other hand, doesn't.

"No, there is nothing strange with that; what I mean is, in a small city like this, there are surely plenty of other options that have you taking full advantage of the peace and quietness it can offer, away from the dangers; but choosing to work on the department, you placed yourself in a dangerous position of your own volition. And with a murder falling in your hands to solve, it surely isn't something easy to deal with, yet you're more focused than what I would've imagined."

"Okay, that is actually good reasoning; I was asked the same three years ago."

Her words take me back to a few days after the Parker's incident. I remember how the sergeant forced me to take some days off to 'clear my head'; in the meantime that all was happening, Reele used to stop by the diner frequently.

I was mopping around in my booth, looking beaten up like a dog in the rain, and two steps away from throwing myself in front of the next truck that crossed my way; he invited himself to sit with me and ordered some food for us; even when countless times I told him I was not hungry, he insisted. That time he asked me why I chose to do what I do; at first it was hard to answer, but after he guided me through the trauma the incident left on me for a whole year, the words that left my mouth were the same as now.

"The people on the station, they are like a family to me; I can't live without them even if I tried at this point. So I prefer to have the chance to be shot in the chest every morning I wake up than to live a life away from them."

I'm suddenly stopped by Agent Dalia, who places herself in front of me with a smile so pure that it creates a strange feeling in me for a moment. "Those were beautiful words, detective; I'm happy to be working with someone like you on our team."

"I..." The words are stolen from me for two reasons: one is obviously the look she gives me, making a hot red feeling claw its way to my face, threatening to make me blush, and the other, that kills this feeling completely; my face gazes away from the agent's face, seeing the same fireplace, old painted wooden walls, and the broken window on the second floor.

I don't even notice when I walk past Agent Dalia, but I do, my feet moving on autopilot toward the center where everything happened yesterday.

The tall trees sway around me as the wintry air passes them by. The birds fly away from the top of the sawmill as I notice a noxious smell permeate the air, coming from inside the building—a smell I didn't catch yesterday because it didn't exist.

I stop atop the exact place where one of the shadows was holding the gangly man down, seeing a spot of blood almost all dried on the dirt. As I'm about to search my pockets for something to gather the evidence, a voice calls me out of my focused state, making me turn around and step with my boot on one of the many shards of glass adorning this part.

"Olivia." Astero, with hurried steps, leaves the inside of the sawmill and comes to stand beside me; he carries the smells of rotten corpse and freshly brewed coffee on his clothes, making me turn away from him for a second.

"Ugh, what happened?" I swallow down the smell and feel that the lack of breakfast was good for me, as nothing climbs up from my stomach to make threats of escaping and painting the dirt. "And why are you smelling of death?"

"That is what I came here to warn you about. There's a corpse inside the building; it doesn't seem like it was from too long ago as it didn't fully start to decompose, so I was able to identify the person; it is Andrey Kolesov, the victim's father." He says with a face that tells me already how bad the situation inside is, so I start to prepare myself mentally for the scene that awaits me. "Is this evidence?"

He asks, pointing to the spot of blood on the ground. I nod in response, gesturing for him to put his evidence-gathering kit down to get it. "I believe so; it is best to be sure than to leave it and later learn it was important."

"Good call; I had suspected about the broken grass on the ground but thought it was caused by the rock on the second floor." He takes a cotton swab and gathers the evidence, dropping the item on a plastic bag and sealing it so no outside source contaminates the blood further. "You think this blood belongs to who? The victim or the killer?"

It angers me so much not being able to tell him; even as this confirms that the shadows were real, I still need more than blood and glass to be able to open my mouth confidently. "I would say neither of them; it is easier to assume it may be from one of the teens that might have come to snoop around and hurt themselves on the glass." I try creating a believable lie, one that is close enough to something that would happen so there's no suspicion. "If it turns out to be from the killer, that will make everything easier."

Astero nods his head, getting back to his feet and prompting me to look at his hands as he gestures inside. "The moment I get the lab results back from the hospital, I'll message you. I'll call some contacts of mine to see if I can get them to speed up."

"Are they still giving you a headache?" I ask, knowing that the only hospital near the city is kilometers away from the main road, almost on another city; they usually are the ones to receive our evidence for analysis, but lately, they've been a real pain in the ass, taking up to a week to even start processing the things we send them—something that cost us some cases in return. "You know I can always have a 'talk' with their staff if things get worse."

"I know, but I still prefer to try talking with them first; I know now all of them are responsible. Some are just following orders from their superiors. In any way, I'll wait for you to be done so we can pack the man up. In the meantime, I'll go entertain Melissa before she gets bored and leaves the scene."

"Thank you." I place my hand on his shoulder, patting it, and watch as he nods his head before walking to the tape, where I spot Mel talking with Officer Lee. With only one thing to do, I turn to address Agent Dalia, but find no one else near me; neither she nor Agent Yui are nearby, so assuming that they entered the building, I go and do the same to find them.

In another part of the forest, hiding atop a tree.

A man stands atop a strong branch far away, watching with his enhanced gaze the whole scene unfold beneath with dry blood stuck to his sharp fangs like food stuck on someone's teeth. He uses his tongue to clean the remnant blood of his last victim off his lips before spitting it down in disgust.

"Damn rats, why can't everyone taste as delicious as sweet Melinda? It is that unlikely that anyone in this city possesses a suitable blood type?"

As the man grumbles to the wind about the taste lingering in his mouth, the same taste that almost manages to rid him of the hunger that plagues his stomach at every move he breathes, he lets out a deep groan. It doesn't help that if he wishes to keep using his abilities, he needs to constantly 'feed the monster'; at least those are the words from the one who made him who he is now: a creature of the night, a man without his humanity, corrupted by someone else's desire; a vampire.

"So many little creatures are here for that poor excuse of a man; if it were me down there, I'm sure no one would have batted an eye; at least the gift I left can be enjoyed by these creatures fully before I-"

His words stop midway through his dry vocal cords, causing them to string in an excited hiss as a scent unlike any other those he saw on the streets exhale, one very close to the sweetness that the daughter of Andrey had; the blood pumping on the holder of the scent is so strong that he can hear their heart accelerate in doubt and fear, creating an angelic reverberate of anxiety that entices his instincts to hunt a good prey, to have a good meal in his hand's grasp to ripe and take to his own thirsty until he feels, for once, satisfied.

"Well, oh well, it seems there's a last worthy test subject around here." The sharp eyes of the man, devoid of any color they once had, lock on the woman's long, curly hair as she is called by a man; her name reaches his sensitive ears as if fate itself decided to put her in a silver tray to the taking. "Dear Olivia, so that is who you are, my muse."

As he utters the woman's name, his lips wet themselves with the saliva rapidly gathering beneath his tongue, akin to a kid who awaits the chance to taste one of their favorite candies in an attempt to cleanse their palate of a bad meal.

The man, after being seduced to the extremes, quickly becomes tired of just watching the scene unfold without any actions of his own, so without thinking further, he decides to give in to his newfound interest alongside the replenishment of his energies to get as close as he can to the mill in high hopes of waiting for the perfect time to disappear with the woman, like the light stealing the darkness away from those who wish to see, but in his case, the words 'stealing an angel from heaven to his own corrupted desires' make more sense.

Back inside the old mill

Taking my first step to the familiar weak, rotten wooden floor of the mill, the atrocious smell that I was able to get a hold of from outside grows thicker, almost like a thing of its own, nauseatingly sickening my stomach to the point it moves to hide itself from it.

My hand travels to my mouth, where, with the fear of throwing up, I keep it close tight to avoid letting anything leave. I spot the agents all rounded up on the doorway leading to the stage where the bands make their show, so I do the same, as freezing in time won't help solve anything.

Moving to the encounter with the door, Agent Dalia, who gets to see what's inside first, moves soon after on the edge of my vision, seemingly to warn me of the sight that I'm about to experience; unfortunately, she's not able to do so before my eyes focus on the pieces and bits of what once was a human being.

A body, parted apart from its original form, is decorated like a statue in an artistic pose, holding a small flower in its fingerless hand; the arms, legs, and torso are all connected by wires that hold the pieces together, like flayed tendons, exposed to eyes that never should have to have to try seeking further reasoning to what happened to it. The man's clothes were stripped of his body, leaving him naked and devoid of any genitalia; it was cut, that is clear as day.

My legs start to shake, as the more I look at the scene in front of me, the more I understand that I was not trained for this: normal robberies, people who are drunk and seek fights in the streets, drug addicts naked in the forest—that is where most of my experience blooms, but this, this is hell.

I feel like my sanity took a toll so greedy that it affects my ability to balance. My feet stumble to the side where I enter the direct route to hit a wood pillar, but before that happens, a gentle hand catches me, allowing me to take a deep breath as she pushes my gaze away from the scene.

"Detective, are you okay?" She asks first, entering my view and pulling my chin so my eyes can't leave hers. "Please take a deep breath; I know the scene is atrocious, but you must calm down before you hyperventilate."

It isn't easy at first; the man's mangled face burns its imprint in my retina so strongly that even not looking at it anymore, I can see in all details still; but then, as it starts to lessen, Agent Dalia's face takes its place, with her truly worried eyes and her lips that contort into a strained smile, trying her best to put me back in place, like when you step on your dog's tail and start to try everything to make it feel better.

My breathing gets back to the normal rate, and my head starts to work with all it has on creating a protection mechanism to allow me the ability to keep working, making sure to use all the adaptability a human mind has to make so the next time I look at it, the same scene doesn't put me in the same state.

Seeing that I'm mostly fine now, Agent Dalia lets go of my chin and puts her hands on my shoulder. "Are you feeling better now, Detective?"

"Yeah, I- I'm feeling a little better; the scene just got me for a little second, but I'll be fine; you don't need to worry about me; but thanks for doing so."

"That's good; please allow us to deal with the body then; we will make sure that not a single clue will escape us." She turns to the other two agents, seeing Agent Colette, detached from any unnecessary feelings, climbing the stairs to the stage and approaching the body. "I would request of you to take a breath outside, but if you wish to help by searching around for any clue, you can; I'll accompany you."

"I have a place I want to check, so I'll leave the body for your team; you can come with me if you want," I say, half hoping she does, as I don't want to walk outside to call Mel so she accompanies me; if she saw this scene, I'm sure she wouldn't eat for a week.

"I'll gladly be by your side." The woman responds promptly, using her hand, which still holds my shoulder, to point me to the doorway leading to the entrance area. "Where is the place you want to check out?"

"The second floor, I think there might be something there."

"Is your gut telling you there might be something there, or is it something else?" Her questions come as strange for a moment until I look at her face and see her studying me, like she wants to see how I operate, so I take it as her being curious to learn more, and so I proceed to promptly lie about it.

"Gut feeling, that is what it is." I saw, clearly not wanting to talk more about it; I find some strength in me to climb the stairs a little faster than her, so there's no time for her to find anything in my awkwardness.

Upon reaching the second floor, I see the various broken wooden chairs that used to be the place where the people who worked here got to eat in peace, still having a vision to the floor below by a balcony part that I avoid at all costs to not see the body again. To my left is an open corridor that leads to the bathroom area. The floor is painted with glass shards in one part but not in the other, which makes sense seeing that one of them someone was thrown from, so most of the glass is on the outside, and the other is where the rock hit, the same palm-sized rock I see lying in the middle of it.

Walking the empty corridor, both mine and Dalia's steps echo through the hall as the only sound that takes the place; both agents downstairs are as quiet as a grave; my feet stop as I take notice of something sticking from beneath the rock; Agent Dalia stops as well when I do, looking at me curiously as I point with my head to the rock.

"You see that little thing right there?" I ask, squatting down, my hands grasp the rock's tough texture and push it to the side, freeing the hidden item and bringing it to full view; touching the thing is enough to tell me what it is, but the design is the nail in the coffin. "I believe I found us a clue."

"Is that a coaster?" She asks back, joining my side to be able to see it better, noticing that it is exactly what she thought. "The design in it is very... unique, I see; do you know where it might belong to?"

The design she points out is of a goat skull surrounded by bike chains; no name adorns any part of the item, which is unusual but understandable, as in this city, there's only one bar that is unique and favorited by outsiders and familiar faces alike: the Two Horned Betsy, a reference to the owner's custom-made motorcycle.

"Yes, I know exactly from which part of this city this came from." Feeling the coaster in my fingers, what was once a hard material stands somewhere between both worlds; it hasn't fully dried, like someone wet the thing while having a hard night; from the smell of it, it surely is Lindsay's famous Margarita. "This can't belong to any of the teens that party here because Brutus has strict rules about age when it comes to drinking in his bar, and the thing feels a little mushy still, so it needs to be from yesterday night."

"So that gives a location to investigate and people to ask questions; not bad detective." The woman's smile helps ease some of the strain on my face that the whole situation brings to me unconsciously; she rises to her feet, and as I'm about to do the same, she offers me her hand, a helpful gesture that I'm quick to take.

Once both of us are on our feet, she turns her head to the far side of the corridor, being the part leading downstairs; on her face, she seems to think a lot of things for a single second before stopping to look at me. "What is your plan now? Do you believe that the bar is open at this hour so we can make a visit?"

"Yeah, it sure is; Brutus Bar is not just a regular bar but actually his house as well. It's kind of complicated to explain, but there's a whole bedroom area where some years ago he used to house his old gang."

"This city sure has some interesting stories; I'm glad I can learn some of them with you; it is sometimes easy to forget that there's a whole world out there, you know?"

"Your agency doesn't usually send your team out of town, do they? I mean, I know how it feels; this small dot on a map that we call a city is all I've ever known my whole life—the feeling of looking through a telescope, focused so much on a single spot of light in the sky when there's a whole sea of stars to discover."

Flabbergasted, the woman turns to face me; her gray eyes that only now I really stopped to notice shine with life. "Wow; yes, you described perfectly what I meant. You're sure full of surprises, Detective; not only are you being of great help to us by lending us your knowledge of the city, but you are easy to talk to; that is something I can appreciate greatly."

"I should be the one thanking you for, you know, helping me calm down and keeping me company; but I'll stop talking now, or else I'll enter a loop of saying the same thing over and over." My eyes travel to the half-open door of the first floor, something that reminds me of the job I have to do; with my part done, maybe calling Astero and the officers in to scrape the rest of the evidence as well as the body for analysis is the next step. "I'll go outside and call our technician in to start packing the scene, but you and your team can take your time to see if you find anything new. Oh, and whenever you want to learn more about the cool places in the city, I'm up to show them to you. And your team, of course." I make sure to add the last part, something I almost forget to do.

"Oh, sure, that sounds delightful; we will meet you outside in a bit." She answers, smiling gently at me, and then we both climb down the stairs and part ways; one thing that doesn't leave me is how strange this all feels.

Two murders in two days in a city where the last one was before I was born, a set of federal agents lending their help to us; it is all too dreamy, like the settings of my world were altered suddenly, without notice. I believe this change will last for a while, so the best I can do is brace myself for the impact that it will surely bring.

One last thing I do before getting out of the door is check the bullet cases—the whole evidence I had to bring everyone here; looking at it, I can see one of the paper markers Astero makes on his lab with post-its to mark the items for pickup; my eyes gaze at the back part of the case, which informs me of the caliber used: .38; a revolver's caliber.

Once more, my head tells me not to touch it so as not to contaminate it with my prints, so I leave it there for Astero to pick it up and later give me the information he extracts from it.

Inside the building, near the stage.

Dalia walks towards the other two agents who quietly seem to finish their evaluation of the situation; Colette has her back to the nearest wall, arms crossed tightly around her chest and feet strongly planted on the ground; in her state, not even a bullet passing by her face, scratching her skin, would be able to make her trip.

Yui, on the other hand, looks deeply troubled at the body before their sensitive ears pick on the return of Dalia, twitching as they always do before their head turns to face her, holding a devilish grin on their pale lips.

"Finally, you're back from your little adventure with the detective; just so you know, I could hear you two talking on the stairs; kinda cute, actually, the whole vanilla 'sharing feelings in common' conversation." Their comment comes with an exposition of their sharp fangs in plain view, eagerly ready to test taste anyone who slightly gives them the chance. "I would be more on the offensive though; it generally gets me what I want faster; maybe I should try that with her; don't you think so too, Lia?"

"Really? Will we need to have the same discourse as last time?" Dalia asks, bringing in the fact this isn't the first time Yui acts like this—interrupting, or even worse, putting their little escapades in the way of the work—in the process, derailing the whole operation for their own pleasure. "The fact you don't drink blood directly from the source, harming people in the process, is good of you, but you still view humans as food in your own lustful way; that isn't good for anyone. Don't you care how your partners will feel when they wake up in the morning to see an empty space in their beds?"

Offended, Yui raises their hands in protest and frowns deeply. "Hey! Everyone I sleep with knows I'm not going to stay to cook them breakfast in the morning, to cuddle buddy them, or whatever; you better than anyone should know that; I'll remind you of your own words: 'Relationships on this line of work are dangerous; we are always moving from place to place, so it's best for us to not get emotionally attached.'; isn't it right?"

"First, this was two hundred years ago, and secondly, what makes you think I want anything with the detective? We just met her an hour ago, for god's sake." Dalia too defends herself, bringing her own points to the conversation; the same points Yui brushes away with a mocking sigh.

"You know what, whatever; there isn't any fun anyway in discussing something if you'll always have the same boring reaction; just keep in mind that if I feel like shooting my shot, I'll do it." As Dalia prepares herself to talk back, the opportunity is stolen away; Yui starts to gesture towards the body as their mouth opens, clearly with the intention to talk work. "The body is dry as a cheap whore, just in this case, dry of blood; we don't know where it has gone, but the guy we are after surely stored it for later, or maybe he drank all, but that would mean he's blood drunk somewhere around the city. Besides that, there isn't anything here to investigate; we could send some skin to the agency so JB could get us some results faster than the detective's poorly equipped station, but their lab freak will surely notice it; that's why I didn't do it."

"That's good; we know now that he shares the same tendencies as the one who turned him—the human statue, the seasonal flower in hand—the only thing missing here is why the first victim was not in the same state as this one-"

"Shut up." Colette, ungluing her back from the wall, orders as she starts to sniff the air after apparently catching an interesting scent; her face contorts into an animalistic growl the more she smells.

Yui childishly crosses their arms and pouts. "No need to be rude, geez."

"Yui, stop and let her work." Dalia interrupts their words by placing her hand on their mouth, stopping the river of unnecessary taunts from flowing out more.

After a good thirty seconds, Colette looks at the door leading outside and sterns her expression further. "The man's blood is near; I can sense it moving outside, getting closer to us."

At the end of her words, the mill's door is pushed open, and the officers, as well as Astero, walk inside the building, forcing the agents to steady their expressions and start to whisper to not bring unwanted attention to themselves.

"Outside? Are you sure?" Dalia asks, almost touching shoulders with Colette; in response, the woman nods her head, sure of what she tracked. "Okay, we are going outside; don't act without thinking. We don't want anyone to discover what we are today."

The agents end their conversation and start to calmly walk past the officers passing by them, readying themselves for anything that can happen outside.

On the outside

I stand near a tree as Astero and his small, makeshift team, like one single, sentient mass thing, enter the mill with the only thing in their heads being to complete their work and go back home, or at least that is what their clearly unhappy faces tell me; it goes to show how even they, who, unlike me, were in a way trained for extreme situations with unusual deaths, just want to end this as soon as possible; the lack of real situations like this one plays a great factor in that.

My back instinctively seeks rest against a tree as, for once, being able to take a real deep breath reveals how drained I became with the whole thing, as one would expect; after all, seeing a body in that state is not like TV shows tell us; it messes with you on a very deep level.

The rough and kind of scaly texture of the tree keeps me aware to not put all my weight against it so I won't tear my lucky hoodie, because that would mean having to sew it back at home and lose all my night doing so to get a poor result.

My eyes wander around as slowly, but surely, a creepy feeling forcefully climbs my spine, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on the edge; the feeling takes a moment to be fully recognized by my brain, but when it does, the message is clear: I'm being watched. Crossing my arms against my chest defensively, I gaze around in a quick motion, finding the three agents coming in my direction, the reason for the whole feeling; feeling dumb for letting my paranoia get the best of me, I sigh tiredly and adjust my clothes to rid them of any wrinkles.

"Oh, hey guys; did you all finish the work? Did you manage to find any clues on the body?" I raise a hand to more or less the middle of my torso and address them closer, seeing a strange set of looks on their faces; Agent Dalia, as before, smiles at me and approaches without any fear, as the other two seem to communicate between themselves in a low tone, pointing their fingers to the top of the tree I'm resting against and locking their eyes there.

I tilt my head curiously, ready to direct my eyes to the same place they are looking, but am interrupted before I can by words reaching my ear.

"We did not find much; the only strange thing that I think is worth talking about is the fact the body seemed dried of blood, but seeing that the killer put the body back together after clearly having spent some time to separate the parts, it is easy to assume the victim bled all out in the process." Agent Dalia comments, tracing a story that would make a lot of sense, but the few pieces we have don't lock together enough to give it enough context to fully tell a story.

"How can a man's worth of blood disappear just like that? I'm sure no one would keep a bucket of blood in their garage, so they would have to dump it somewhere; as cleaning that amount from wood planks is just impossible without letting any remains, and I don't know about your team, but I didn't see any or smell either that or cleaning products inside, the only other option left would be the forest. But once more, that amount of blood would attract animals, and on the way here we didn't see anything." With a heavy sigh, I count the few options we have available for us and find that, once more, waiting is the only one that can bring true results. "We will have to rely on the runners; if they see anything strange while jogging around here, we will get a call on the station."

I, out of practiced reflex, trace my eyes to an object being thrown out toward some trees in the distance; tracing the path back, I am quick enough to catch Agent Yui coming out of a throwing pose; they seem to catch my stare and put an embarrassed grin on their face before making the seemingly conscious decision to frown defensively.

"What? Can't someone be bored out of their minds?" Placing their hands on their unshaped hips, hidden beneath the flannel shirt, the agent takes a step closer to join the conversation. "Look, I respect whatever this overthinking of you two is, but we already have a location to go, no? So let's go already."

As a response, I nod my head, something that the agent themselves didn't expect by the way their eyes widen in surprise; their being bored with the horrible situation is something that does not just go past me, but I leave it for now as it doesn't matter.

"You're right, we will surely have time to place everything together once we clear the current chain of events, so there isn't a reason to be discussing any of this now."

"Okay, it feels very nice for someone to not tell me to shut up or just brush off my words completely; I'm starting to realize you two are very bad influences on my self-esteem; now I don't even know how to react." Pouting, the agent turns their head to the other two, shifting from one to another, but ends up being ignored by both, showing that their words are more than just a mindless rant about something that irritates them.

"If we've already made a decision, let's proceed at once." Agent Colette talks, her deep voice still managing to sound strange to my ears, but that makes sense seeing that this should be what? The second or third time she talks in my presence.

By the way she acts, it doesn't come as a surprise when she simply starts walking away without getting confirmation from anyone, which forces us to follow right behind to everyone's own parked vehicles.

The last minutes before we leave the old mill area play out as a slowed movie scene; Agent Yui walks towards their motorcycle, almost jumping at the retrospect of returning to their old friend; there's a certain smile on their face that differs from the ones I saw until now; it feels, almost, like something genuine, perhaps it is, but unfortunately, that smile is quickly washed away from view as they slide in their helmet, so I can't tell. Before completely taking away, they gaze at the forest, their eyes hidden, so I can't tell exactly the direction they look, but once satisfied, the roar of the motorcycle heart's pumping fuel leads to the start of their drive away.

Agent Dalia and Agent Colette lean against the SUV together, entering what seems to be an important discussion where both gesture strongly with their hands, allowing emotions that surely should only be seen by them to be exposed to prying eyes.

There's a moment where I linger my hand on my car's open door, observing like an outsider the private show roll on; it doesn't last long though, as when it hits me that maybe I should not be doing what I am, I enter my car fully, closing the door with enough force to shake the inside of the vehicle, something that, if not done, can mean not closing the old door. My weight presses against the space in the leather seat where it has retained a print of my existence in dried spots with blood from times I hurt myself while on patrol to little broken pieces of various things that me and Mel ate on this car in its lifetime.

The heavy, exhausted sigh I've been holding since yesterday leaves me as I twist the key and rev up the old, beaten engine to life once more; the dirt road behind me shows itself as the only path, the only option, akin to how this whole thing feels like; before I can spiral myself anymore, I sink my feet on the accelerator and follow right behind the track of Agent Yui's motorcycle, and in the process, I notice that it takes some more seconds, but eventually, the SUV comes to life and stays right behind my car.