Joe was by himself walking along the street headed towards a specific destination. He had an informant who knew something about Mark and his family. Joe was told to meet them in the alleyway by the restaurant “The Southern Bites”.
It was the middle of the day and there was no one around as he was walking.
He eventually arrived at the restaurant with the smell of food hanging in the air. It was remodeled recently and had an appearance that looked both modern and old; a nicer restaurant that was likely not cheap on the pocketbook. Joe walked by it until was standing by the alleyway he was to meet. He couldn’t see very well into it. It was strangely very dark compared to the rest area around it. Joe started to reminisce as he stood there.
He thought.
This was the place where Joe did that drug bust all those years ago. It was the alleyway where he had accidentally killed someone. He had no idea why he agreed to meet here and didn’t try to push to meet somewhere else.
Taking a deep breath, he walked into the alleyway and was swallowed by the darkness. He kept walking forward as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness around him. Eventually, he saw two figures in trenchcoats standing just standing there with their back turned to Joe.
Joe: “Hey, you two! Are you the informants I was supposed to meet?” he called out to them.
They didn’t respond and just stood there.
Joe: “Hey, did you hear me!” he called out to them again while approaching them.
Both the men in trenchcoats turned to face Joe once he got closer. What Joe saw both shocked and terrified him. Facing him were humans that had their faces and heads smashed in with a gaping wound and a deadly amount of blood constantly dripping from them. They had a pale and sickly complexion.
Joe: “W-what the fuck! Undead!?! Wait…” he said as he realized something.
The clothing they wore was familiar to Joe. It was a standard trench coat that he made everyone in his unit wear rather than their regular police uniform. He could also still see their hair coloration of red and brown which reminded him of people he once knew.
He had seen these two before, even in this state. They were both his friends that Rob had killed by crushing their skulls and dumping their bodies in garbage cans.
Joe: “Jeff? Blake?” he said, confused and horrified.
Jeff?: “Why? Joe why? Why did you let Rob kill us?” he said, with blood dripping down from his ruined face.
Blake?: “Joe, I had a wife and kid. Why did you let us die?”
Joe: “N-No. I, I-I,” he stuttered, unable to answer the ghost of his friends.
He turned to prepare to run, but was blocked by another ghost of the past.
Standing in front of him was a skinny man standing at the same height as Joe. He had short blond hair and green eyes. The man had a scared look on his face and wore filthy clothing with a few holes in his jeans. It was the man that Joe had accidentally killed in this very alleyway years ago.
Joe: “Jin?”
Jin?: “Joe, why? I wasn't gonna hurt anyone. I just needed the money. I-I needed it for—” he was interrupted by the sound of a loud bang.
Jin’s forehead exploded and blood shot out, getting all over Joe. He then collapsed onto the floor while continuing to stare up at Joe with the same scared expression. Blood, now flowing both out of the front and back of Jin’s head from a bullet wound.
Joe could only gasp, as he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him holding a gun with smoke still coming out of the muzzle. It was like looking into a mirror, for the person Joe saw was himself. It was a distorted version of Joe with an angry and twisted scowl on his face.
Distorted Joe: “You killed them all. It’s all your fault.”
Joe: “No. I-I didn’t—”
Distorted Joe: “Murderer! Murderer! MURDERER! YOU'RE A MURDERER.” the distorted version of Joe yelled out.
Joe: “No, no, noooooo!” he cried out.
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Joe immediately woke up and sat straight up at his desk.
Joe: “GHAAA!” he yelled.
While sitting up he also swung his hands around erratically, knocking over a stack of paper that was by his desk. Papers spilled out everywhere and made a complete mess.
The awoken officer spun his head around to see that he was in the police headquarters sitting at his desk. Sёarᴄh the Nôvel(F)ire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
Joe: “Ohh, just a dream. Just a dream.” he said while breathing heavily, taking a moment to try and calm himself down.
Mike: “Had a fun nightmare?” he said sarcastically.
Joe turned to his side to see Mike standing beside him holding another stack of paper. Mike had a tired look on him.
Joe: “When is a nightmare ever fun?”
Mike: “Well, that’s what you get for staying up all night going through records and sleeping at your desk. Was it even worth it by the way? Did you find what you're looking for?”
Joe just groaned. He had spent the entire night going through documents related to the house Mark was living in and didn’t get the results he wanted.
Joe: “No. Mark and his mother seemed to rent, and the guy they were renting from passed away years ago with no family. So I got nothing. Still don’t even know what Mark’s fucking surname is. If I knew that, I might be able to get more info on this kid.”
Mike: “Can’t help you there. Even the old lady who knew Mark we talked with didn’t know his last name for some reason. Did you try asking Jack?”
Joe: “He threw a lead pipe at me and said he didn’t know. Guess people in The Skullcrusher only ever referred to each other on a first-name basis.”
Mike: “And that knife we got?”
Joe: “I left it with Steve from forensics to analysis, but I guess he’s backlogged with other units' requests, and won’t be able to examine it for a while.”
Mike: “So we spent all this time and effort and we got nothing.”
Joe: “…yup…” he said, while looking annoyed.
Mike just let out a deep sigh.
Mike: “OK. Now that we got that out of the way, here's some forms for you to fill,” he said as he dropped a large stack of papers onto Joe’s desk.
Joe: “What’s this for? I thought that we were finally getting the paperwork situation under control?”
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Mike: “Me and Dan did get the paper situation under control, with the exception of those forms that you scattered all over the place that you were meant to sign,” he said referring to the papers Joe had just knocked over when he woke up.
Joe: “Oh, OK. I’ll get that done today. So what are these forms for?”
Mike: “These are the forms you need to fill out to put in a request at the university for assistance. I know that was going to be your next place to look for information. Since you're still in need of an expert who knows about curses and we can’t ask the witch hunters at this time. So I got a head start on that process of asking the university.”
Joe: “OK,” nodding his head in approval. “ That's good. And, it seems the paperwork is not as bad as I was expecting,” he said, feeling hopeful.
Joe was delaying asking the university for help because he thought the paperwork it would add would be massive. He was sure there would be a lot of forms for him to fill out, but the stack of papers that Mike put on his desk was not as bad as he thought. He was sure he could get this done in a day.
Mike just angrily glared at Joe.
Joe: “What?” he said, confused by Mike's expression.
Mike didn’t say anything, he just pointed off to the side. Joe turned his head to see what Mike was pointing at. An entire corner of the office was completely consumed by paper. There was a stack of papers as tall as people all over the ground and desks. The wall was completely covered with more paper stuck to it. There was actually so much paper it was starting to block out the natural light from nearby windows.
Joe: “Oh, Light. Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”
Mike: “It’s worse than what you think it is. We were supposed to fill out yearly forms for the university to make requests, but decided not to bother. As we intended never to try and ask for their help ever again. But now that we're asking for their help, we have to go back and fill out those forms we didn’t do. We have fifteen years worth of forms to fill out now. And Joe, the forms in that corner there are only five years worth of backlog paperwork! We still have ten more years worth of forms to fill after this!
Joe: “Aggggguuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” he moaned with dread. “What’s even the point of this paperwork? Why do they need this?”
Joe couldn't believe it. He knew the people at the university loved their forms, but this was on a whole new level.
Mike: “Oh, and Murdock is getting pretty pissy with you for not taking any assignments. So, he’s probably going to shove one onto us soon. Likely won’t be able to fill out all these university forms before that happens.”
Joe: ”Uggghhh” he groaned again. Another thing to add to his stress. “OK… where is Dan by the way?”
Mike turned the wall of paper and called out the newest member of their unit.
Mike: “Hey Dan! Are you still in there!” he yelled out.
The stacks of paper in the corner that formed a wall shook a little bit, and a muffled voice could be heard. It was so low that Joe couldn’t make out what was being said.
He thought in disbelief.
The towers of forms shook again and a small hole opened up in the fortress of paper. Like a caveman leaving his cave for the first time, Dan crawled out of the mountain of paper on his hands and knees, eyes wide with a look of someone that saw some crazy shit.
Dan: “So…much…paper… did they… kill an entire forest?” he said, looking shell-shocked.
Mike: “Did you find form T-74V like I asked?”
Dan looked up at Mike before getting back onto his feet and handing a piece of paper to Mike.
Mike took the paper and gave it a quick read over, before deeply sighing.
Mike: “Dan, this is form T-73V, not T-74V.”
Dan looked devastated at hearing what Mike just said.
Dan: “Please don’t send me back. I was in there for like two hours already.” he said, pleadingly.
Mike: “No choice then. Joe, you're up. I need you to find that form.”
Joe: “What? How am I supposed to find anything in that sea of paper you got going on there?”
Mike: “Despite how it looks, it’s alphabetized. So make sure you don’t mix anything up, or it’s going to take even longer. Me and Dan are gonna go get a bite to eat.”
Joe: “You’re just leaving me here. Pushing all this onto me.”
With dark bags under Mike's eyes, he glared even more intensely at Joe. Clearly fuming mad now.
Mike: “That’s rich coming from you. Our last backlog of paperwork was because you kept pushing it onto me! And, no. I’m not casually pushing this onto you, like some unappreciative asshole I know would.” he said, clearly referring to Joe. “It’s just that me and Dan are tired. We've been working on this for six hours already and barely have anything to show for it, all while you were sleeping. So, the least YOU could do is help with this paper mess we have going on!” he growled out in frustration.
Every word Mike said stung Joe. There was no rebuking anything his partner said, and felt even more dangerous to do so at this moment. Mike was looking stressed and ready to snap. Joe turned his head to the mass of paper and then back to Mike. He did this a few more times while thinking about what to say. Making sure to choose his words carefully.
Joe: “This… there must be a better way.”
Mike: “I knew you would try to weasel out of this!” he growled through his teeth while his face started to turn red in anger.
Joe: “N-no, I’m not trying to weasel out of this. I’m just thinking that this might be pointless. Even if we get all this done, the university might still not help us out.”
Dan: “Um, I never bother to ask, but what is stopping us from just going to university and talking to those experts on curses directly. It's not like you need them to do anything specific for us. We just need some information on curses.”
Mike: "Agh, it’s all politics. They don’t like the idea of police being anywhere on university grounds. They are worried that our presence would ‘ruin the prestige and reputation of their honorable institution’, their words, not mine."
Joe: “Lot of good that did for their reputation. I heard last week it was discovered that a professor at the university was a necromancer. If they're so sensitive about their reputation, they should be more worried about what their staff are getting up to.”
Mike: “I didn’t hear about that.”
Joe: “Yeah, it was just announced yesterday. The university still is not letting anyone from the force onto the campus even now. They're trying to handle this internally before passing it off to us. But, I heard the feds are getting involved now, and they can’t say no to those guys.”
Mike: “Huh. That is fascinating. Welp, good luck with searching for that form,” he said as he turned and prepared to leave.
Joe: “Waaaait. I have one last idea before we try the university route.”
Mike let out a long sigh.
Mike: “What now? Who are you going to try and piss off for information?
Joe: “No one, hopefully.”
Dan: “Did you find someone who knows about curses or Mark?”
Joe: “Nope, but I know someone who might know someone else who does.”
Mike: “Who are you talking about, Joe?”
Joe: “Let’s just say, we’re going to teach Dan what ‘speak a secret and the hounds will hear it’ means.”
Mike's eyes widened and gave a very stern look of disapproval at what Joe was suggesting.
Mike: “No FUCKING WAY! We are not doing that!”
Dan: “What? What are we not doing?” he said, confused about what was going on.
Joe: “Don’t worry Mikey. It’ll be fine.”
Mike: “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. There is no way in a thousand years that we are—”
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It was the evening in Greheel. Just outside the Red-light district, in a grimy and filthy alleyway, gathered there were three men all wearing matching trench coats. Despite their appearance, they would fit in with most of the local populace with their attire.
Mike: “Joe, this is the most fucking stupidest idea you ever had whole goddam life! Us cops asking the Nighthounds for anything is fucking suicide.”
Joe: “It’s going to be suicide if you don’t shut the fuck up. Don’t mention anything about the police here. If anyone asks, we’re just here to show Dan, a new arrival in town, a good time. Got it?”
Dan: “I-I don’t know Joe. Mike is right. I know the Nighthounds are supposed to have this crazy information-gathering network, but this sounds really dangerous. Some of the others at headquarters have told me some pretty scary stories about these guys.
Mike: “And they probably didn’t tell you about some of the worst ones involving this gang.” he said, directed at Dan before turning back to Joe.” Com’on Joe. This isn't just anywhere in the east end. This is the Red-light district, the heart of the Nighthounds territory and their base of operation. The people here are not just working for them, most of them are Nighthound members.
Joe: “Calm down. We just go in, get our information and leave. That’s it. I even know someone inside the Nighthounds who can help us get the information we’re looking for.”
Mike: “Yeah, and that guy you're talking about hates you. He might even hate you more than Jack, and Jack tries to beat the crap out of you.”
Joe: “Look, I know what I’m doing. If you’re so worried, you and Dan can stay behind. I’ll go by myself.”
Mike: “That’s an even worse idea.”
Joe: “Then stop complaining and stick close to me,” he said as he began to walk out of the alleyway and towards the Red-light district.
Both Dan and Mike looked at each other unsure, before they quickly followed behind Joe.