Demons Ascension - No Name Liquors

[Posted by Ted H]

The part of the story where Blake wastes valuable time on a pointless expedition to the liquor store...also where I continue my well defined trend of not wanting to name anything.

...I also make no claim to knowledge of the Russian language...google translate

Blog Housekeeping note: I've added some select one-shot stories and poems to the sidebar just so newcomers don't immediately think this site is all about one or two novels. Also I've edited the "Popular Posts" to only show the last 30 days, not all time. That way new stuff has a shot to make it on there...

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[Demons Ascension - No Name Liquors]

            The next day had a pleasant change in temperature. James actually considered leaving his coat behind as he stepped out. He tried again to call his contact, this time getting an answer. James had explained that he had some questions and he could only do this in person. He was told to stop by in the evening. This gave James the entire day "off" he figured as he decided now was a good a time as any to restock some alcohol, and food if he had any cash left over.
            He set aside enough cash to gas John's car back to Chicago, then set off. It was a little after noon and James decided to hit up his usual liquor store guy who would always sell to him no matter what time of day or county law prohibited. As he walked down the street, he heard a familiar engine rev as a red SUV with tinted windows pulled alongside him and the passenger side window rolled down.
            "Blake," a black man with a toothpick in his mouth said.
            "Ty," James said without looking over as he kept walking, the car crept up with him.
            "Sal's been wondering when you'd get back in town."
            "Short stay," James said "I'll be gone before you know it. Best ignore that you saw me."
            "Nigga, please," Ty said with a wide grin "It wasn't me who saw you. You think I ain't got better things to do than watch the streets for your creepy ass?"
            "Yeah, my neighborhood isn't for people like you. Way too upscale. Too far from the nearest crack house."
            "Usually your smart ass mouth entertains me, Blake, but you best shut it and listen."
            "I'm not staying. I will literally be gone by tomorrow, so whatever Sal wants can wait."
            "Oh you best make time for Sal before me makes time for you."
            "Do you even listen to yourself when you talk, Ty?"
            "Whatever, bitch. And my neighborhood is fucking immaculate compared to this shithole you live in."
            "You're right. The hookers a block away from your den really brings the whole street together in an aesthetically pleasing way."
            Ty turned to the man driving the car he was in and asked "Can you understand what this mother fucker is saying." The driver smiled as he shook his head.
            "Always the intelligent conversations with you, Ty," James said as he began to walk faster, absent mindedly thinking he could out power walk a motor vehicle "My bad, I forgot to keep all words to three syllables or less with you."
            "Shut the fuck up," Ty said as he snapped his hand at James as he began to talk loud and slow at him "Sal. Be there. We're not asking."
            With that he rolled his window up and the SUV sped up down the road, leaving James. As he turned the corner, he stopped momentarily at the sight of Stan waiting for him, arms crossed and casually leaning against a fence. James was both surprised at the sight and at the same time felt like he should have expected as much. "We should talk," Stan said as James kept walking and passed right by. "You're gonna have to get in line," James said without looking back "Scarier people are demanding my attention, and I'm in no rush to see them either."
            "Scarier, eh?" Stan asked but made no effort to actually follow James "You're wasting days you don't have, Blake." James waited until he was a good length away before checking behind him. Unsurprisingly again, when he looked, Stan was nowhere to be found. "I gotta learn that trick," he said as he approached the liquor store.
            The liquor store was one of those old style setups with the huge bars over the windows and some tacky neon signs over the door that made it seem like it would rather be a bar. Inside was a mess of disorganization that would make any OCD patient cripple in horror. The border along the top of the walls was lined with liquor types from rum and whiskey to vodka, yet the set up below was anything but. The whiskey was displayed on the opposite end of the store from where the border said it would be, the vodka was actually scattered into various areas. For a first timer, finding what you needed would be a disorienting journey. For a regular like James, it was a system you were used to. Oddly enough, there was no name above the store, but that was intentional.
            "Blake!" A pudgy man from behind the front counter said as he put down the porno magazine he was reading "Someone said you skipped town."
            "Nah, just a family emergency, Ed" James said.
            "You don't have a family," Ed said with a sideways look.
            "Extended family?"
            "Not buying it."
            "Someone did die, I assure you."
            "Awe, that's sad. Anyone I would know?"
            "From Chicago?"
            "So, no."
            "Friend of a friend."
            "You don't have friends either."
            "Anyone tell you that you missed your calling as a comedian?"
            "I assume whatever you're doing has the potential for a few bucks?"
            "You know me so well."
            "So what brings Mr. James Blake to No Name Liquors?"
            "Some of the usual," James said as he made his way towards the back corner "Got anything new in?"
            "Do I?" Ed said with excitement that suggested he'd been waiting all day for someone to ask him. He rummaged behind the counter while James picked out a tall bottle of Jagermeister and walked it to the counter. As he placed the bottle down, Ed sprang up with a skull shaped bottle of something clear and placed it next to the bottle.
            "And just what am I looking at?" James asked.
            "Pure, powerful, Russian Vodka. Strong as hell."
            "180 proof?"
            "If I didn't know better, I'd say it was 300 proof."
            "Riiiight. So it's gasoline in a skull bottle."
            "That's how it's packaged. The box calls it something funny. "Smeptibuh" or something."
            "It says "смерть" you dolt. It's Russian for "death". Are you even suppose to have this?"
            "Probably a mix up, but we haven't been called about it. Tell you what. I'll sell it to you for cheap. Call it a loyal customer discount."
            James looked at the bottle for a moment. "What's its usual price?" he asked.
            "A wise man once said if you have to ask, then you sure as hell can't afford it."
            "Does my "loyal customer apply to my Jager as well?"
            Ed smiled as he help back a laugh. "Sure," he said.
            As Ed punched some numbers into his register, James picked up the skull glass and peered into it. The way to open it was a knob on the base, virtually unseen when the skull was placed down upright, allowing an unobstructed view through the rest of the skull. James wasn't even sure there was anything inside since the liquid inside was so crystal clear. The weight of the skull and the tiniest of air bubbles are what suggested to the fact that there was something inside.
            "$61.66," Ed said as he reached for a brown bag.
            "Jeeze," James said as he pulled out his cash.
            "Whoops, forgot to ring up the Jager too."
            "I don't even wanna know," James said as he peeled off several twenty dollar bills and placed them on the counter.
            "I suggest you give up smoking before you drink this. The way you go, you'll blow up the whole damn street."
            "Right. How many of those do you even have back there?"
            "Just the one," Ed said as he took the money "I like to think that somewhere in Russia, someone is getting a case of Ketel One that was supposed to come here."
            Well, it's their loss," James said as he took his goods and stepped for the exit "Tell Roger and Maggie I said hi."
            "Come back real soon and spend all your money."
            "You think with all the money I give you guys, you'd at least be able to put a sign over this place."
            "That would defeat the whole purpose."
            "Yeah, who'd want people to actually know what this building was, right?"
            "We get by."
            "Right. By the way, you wouldn't happen to have the time, would you?"
            "Almost three. Feels like it's five though, damn daylight savings malarkey."
            "Thanks. See ya."
            "Have a good one, Blake."

Demons Ascension - The Number You Are Trying To Call...

[Posted by Ted H]

.........and the tie ins to "That One Night" begin...

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[Demons Ascension - The Number You Are Trying To Call...]

            It had taken James the better part of the day to drive home; a depressing little city called Syracuse. By the time James got home to his apartment, the sun was already set. The place wasn't very big, but James always figured it fit the life he was leading. The neighbors never bothered him and it was within walking distance of a liquor store, a bar and a strip club; none of which James deemed essential but each a definite plus for himself. Inside were several plants he often neglected to water and an infestation of something crawling around inside his walls.
            As he entered, James tossed his coat in the same corner he usually did, three other coats sat crumpled nearby. He walked to the kitchen and lightly tossed the book onto the table as he passed. He flipped on the small television in the corner of the room and waited for any mention of the Chicago murders. After realizing how the local stations cared more about the local college's embarrassingly bad football team than the occurrences of the rest of the world, he switched the TV off and pulled out his phone book. He  searched and tracked down a certain number to dial. James dialed and waited patiently as the phone on the other end rang endlessly.
            "C'mon," James said as the phone just kept ringing. Eventually he gave up and hung up the phone. He sat at his table for a moment with his head in his hands. "This is crazy," he said as he reached over and pulled the book he brought over. He flipped through the pages again, hoping that something would appear that he would recognize. He knew most foreign languages when he saw them, but this was something he'd never seen before.
            "Not even a picture to look at," he said as he lit a cigarette and walked over to his fridge. "Lucky," he said as he pulled out a couple 40 ounce bottles and returned to the table. He proceeded to go through the book, page by page as he drank, looking for anything that could tell him what its purpose was. After both bottles were emptied and the book skimmed cover to cover, he put his head down on the table in frustration.
            "This book is beyond me," he said as he picked his head up and rubbed his eyes. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he was tired and the book had given him a headache. He looked over and pondered his phone book for a moment before he grabbed it and searched out a new number. He sat back and dialed the number as he lit a new cigarette and waited.
            "Hello?" a voice on the other end said after a few rings.
            "Hey Tom," James said "It's...it's James."
            "Blake?"
            "You know anyone else by that name that have saved you from jail time?"
            "What do you need, James?"
            "Remember the good old days?"
            "We never had good old days."
            "Relatively speaking."
            "The two of us probably had one of the more atypical years of college."
            "Sure was memorable though."
            "You call me to reminisce about my dead ex-girlfriend?"
            "Back when a murder was nothing more than one person killing another for simple reasons."
            "What's going on?"
            "Nothing," James said as he couldn't help but start to flip through the book again "Remember John's sisters?"
            "...Yeah," Tom said with hesitation. James knew he was throwing the man for a loop.
            "What do you think would have happened if I went with you guys to that party?"
            "You would've had fun. Probably would've gotten laid too."
            "Think it would have kept you from getting hit?"
            "God dammit...I told him never to tell you that story."
            "Sorry, but seriously, what do you think would have happened?"
            "I probably would have kept better track of which twin was which. Why? You think you could've gotten with Brittany?"
            "I thought Brittany was the one you were trying to get with that night?"
            "Piercings don't really do it for me. You remember that fight Meg and I had when she gauged her ears?"
            "Vaguely. But you still wanted to take Brittany home with you that night."
            "Well," Tom said before pausing for a moment "She was into me, both were, and Brittany was just more aggressive than the other one. I ended up drinking a little too much and forgot the timid sister even existed for a while. That led to my little mix up."
            "Who would have guessed..."
            "Listen, can we not talk about my exes?"
            "Sure...so, how's the wife?"
            James and his old roommate continued with random small talk for some time, with James only paying some detached attention as he flipped through the pages of the strange book. After a while, Tom comments about how it was getting late and hung up. James stood up and wandered over to the front door, wondering if it wasn't too late to walk down to the liquor store.
            Tom was a much different man than what James knew in college. Back then he was lazy, unintelligent, showered rarely and was promiscuous, even after he started dating Meg Hart. After Meg was murdered, he took on a slightly different perspective on life. Now he was happily married with a child, a second on the way and word was that he actually took up showering regularly. Not much could be said for his intelligence, but seeing how he graduated and James never got the chance, he would reserve the right to insult the man.
            A steady rain had begun outside, so James dismissed the notion for more booze and decided to retire for the night. The ache in his head wasn't going away and his amateur treatment of cigarettes and more cigarettes didn't seem to be working. He resisted the urge to look at the book anymore as he wandered his way into his bedroom and kicked off his shoes. After spending the last few nights sleeping on couches, the allure of his was bed was strong.
            He laid in bed and listened to the rain hit his window for a time while he lost himself in his own thoughts. He kept going back to the night the Praque siblings and Tom all went to the party without him. He wondered what would have happened if he had gone and hooked up with one of the sisters, or had at least prevented Tom from mixing up sisters. What could have changed from that one night in Cazenovia?
            "Meg would still be dead and I'd still be kicked out," he said, partly answering his own question. But he also wondered what impact things would be for the sisters. Maybe if one of them ended up with Tom, they would be the happy wife living in some suburb outside of Buffalo and the other sister wouldn't have ended up in Chicago. Either way, Stephanie wouldn't have been where she had been when she died.
            But James then pondered the actual ritual murders themselves. It had to be Stephanie and it had to be in that house. Would someone else had died in that house or would Stephanie would have died elsewhere? He decided these questions were too big for him in his current tired state and attempted to drift into sleep. His last thought was that of regret; That somehow, some way, he would have been able to spare Stephanie her fate if he had only a little more backbone back in college.

Demons Ascension - Well THAT Went Well...

[Posted by Ted H]

Wherein the protagonist finds out he's not very good at interrogations...

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[Demons Ascension - Well THAT Went Well...]

            As John was call calling in the situation, James figured Bradford would have some choice words to say, and would want to know the significance. James knew there would be difficulty in that especially with how things have been to this point. He looked down and the book in his hands and flipped through various pages, but the writing was in some language he never saw before. He knew if he could figure out what this book was, then he could determine what the ritual murders were trying to accomplish, and maybe figure out the next target before it was too late.
             "What you say?" James asked as John approached, now off the phone. "I just called in some officers saying that I found something." he said "They're wrapping up for now at the church. Victims name was Father Nicholas Brooks."
            "Anything to do with the previous vics?" James asked.
            "So far, not a chance. Stephanie never really went to church and Williams was from the other side of town. Maybe some digging into Brooks can yield something, but I'm not too optimistic about it."
            "So, despite a new murder and victim, you guys are still where you started?"
            "Actually, there is a pattern that Bradford noticed."
            "What's that?"
            "Williams was killed six nights ago. My sister six nights before that."
            "So you're thinking this guy will strike in six more days?"
            "I don't know what to think," John said as he looked down at the book James was flipping through "Why did you take the book?" he asked "That could be evidence."
            James shrugged "You guys won't be able to read this." he said as he closed the book and tucked it under his arm.
            "And you can?"
            "No, but I know a guy who might."
            "Who?"
            "Friend of a friend of a friend. Something like that. Met him a couple times, has a knack for supernatural stuff like this."
            "Think if we brought him here he could help?"
            "You'd have to go a long way to find this guy, but he could help me."
            "So let's go have a chat with him."
            "No, just me."
            "Why?"
            "This guy, he's...a little different. He doesn't own a cell phone and he rarely leaves his house. No way he's gonna cooperate with someone around he doesn't know and especially if that someone is a cop."
            "So you're saying that you alone, with that piece of evidence, can get us the answers we need."
            "Yes," James said knowing full well that police procedure would be nothing short of punching James in the mouth and taking the book for professionals to look at as evidence.
            John stood for a moment and shook his head. "You're sure that is the clue we need?" he asked as James looked up and locked eyes with him. "Yeah," he replied "We just need someone who can read it."
            "Where is this guy?"
            "Back in New York, not far from where you found me."
            "How can you get there?"
            "Uh...bus? Maybe a plane would be quicker if you wanna loan me some cash."
            John tossed James the keys from his pocket. "Go," he said "Find some answers." James smiled as he all but ran for the door in excitement, but a woman entering got in his way and they almost knocked each other over. She gasped as she almost dropped the coffee in her hand and backed up. "I'm so sorry," she said as James exhaled and nodded. "Are you ok? I didn't see you there," she said as James waved her off and apologized. She was wearing a large tan colored coat that was mostly covered on her shoulders by long red hair. She wore black gloves on each hand and she wore leather boots that disappeared unto her coat, leaving James to wonder just how up far they reached. On her head she wore a black knit hat, leaving her pale face as the only exposed part of her entire body. She had thin framed glasses that were slightly fogged as they sat on her red cheeks.
            "Amanda, do not get in the way of police investigation," Mark exclaimed as he rushed in from another room. "Police?" Amanda asked as James just knew John was rolling his eyes again. "What are you investigating?" she asked as James smiled. "Uh..." he started and tried to keep the book from view "Yeah, well, we're not at liberty to talk about this, uh, investigation. Right, Mark? Need to know only."
            Mark pondered it for a moment before his eyes lit up and he smiled. "Yes!" he said "Need to know only! Only important people, like me and the police." Amanda nodded slowly and apologized. "By the way, officers," Mark said as he walked over to James "I've called supervisor about that door. We should have it open soon!" James couldn't help but laugh a little. "It's detective," John corrected Mark before pulling him aside "And about that door..." John pulled Mark into the staircase, leaving James and Amanda alone.
            "Again, I'm really sorry," Amanda said as she side stepped to allow James to leave. "Happens all the time!" James lied "Most people wouldn't even think I'm a cop. I'm James by the way." Amanda laughed as she shook his outstretched hand. "Well," she said "I honestly thought, and hoped, you were a new arrival."
            "New arrival?"
            "Oh yeah. Some people are gone now, so there's room for rent I believe."
            "That's odd," James said "Mark said there was no vacancy."
            "Oh," Amanda said "Maybe he doesn't know. Friend of mine in the building said a few of the guys wouldn't be around here much longer. I naturally figured they were leaving. I assumed Mark knew."
            "Any of them named Crow by any chance?" James asked, not expecting much of a result. Amanda nodded quickly and smiled. "No, he's still around. He's actually the friend I just mentioned." James no longer wanted to leave. "I need to see him, now," he said. "Police business," he added.
            They made their way to the elevator and went to the top floor. "So you live here alone?" James asked as they stood together in the cramped elevator. "Yeah," Amanda said "Low income housing is the worst, but some of the people around here make it interesting."
            "Low income? That hard finding a good job?"
            "I don't like working boring jobs. But the interesting ones don't pay very well."
            "How are the people around here?"
            "Great. Crow is a doll to have around, though I'm not sure I'm his type. And times I think he doesn't even prefer girls."
            "What about the people he typically hangs with?"
            "Bunch of...random dudes. I dunno. I never really liked his friends. Creepy guys."
            "And they're all gone now?"
            "Last I checked," Amanda said as the elevator stopped and they got off. "One day Crow mentions that they're gonna be gone soon. Next thing I know, I don't see them about anymore."
            "What about Crow? He make plans to leave."
            "No, he told me he'd be sticking around. Said he could never imagine not having me as his neighbor. I thought that meant he was into me, but I can never tell with him. You think that means a guy's into you?"
            "So," James said with a smirk "I take it no boyfriend in your life."
            "What makes you think that?" Amanda said with a smirk of her own as she led him down the hall.
            "By the way, I'm not a cop," James said with a wink as they walked down the hall. Amanda thought about it a moment before winking back "I get it," she said "Undercover." James chuckled to himself as they approached what was Crow's apartment. "He lives right across the hall from me," Amanda said as she pointed behind James. "There's my room," she said with an arched eyebrow that got James' attention as she turned, red hair being flipped towards his face as she spun, and knocked on Crow's door.
            As Amanda knocked, James realized he had nothing to approach Crow with that wouldn't tip his hand about the police investigation. "You know, actually I'm a little busy right now," he said as he began to back up. At the very least he probably could use John and his gun backing him up. "But you came all this way," Amanda began as the door opened.
            Out stepped a man wearing black pants and a blue satin shirt with a fire design on it. He wore thin rimmed glasses with a light amount of black makeup around each eye. He had jet black hair gelled into place in a messy way and he had a cigarette tucked into his left ear. "What?" he asked in a light, crackly voice.
            "Crow," Amanda said "This is my friend, James. James, this is Crow." Crow looked over at James with his blue eyes almost as if he was trying to burn holes right through him. James had closed his coat with the book inside and crossed his arms to hold it in place. "I've heard a lot about you," James said, trying and failing to not make things awkward.
            "From who?" Crow asked.
            "Wouldn't happen to know a guy named Rickey Kenton?"
            "Never heard of him."
            "How about a chick named Amy?"
            "Nope. You a cop?"
            "Of course I'm not a cop."
            "You smell like a cop."
            "You smell bacon?"
            "No. I smell cop on you, among other things."
            "The name Stan ring a bell, Crow? Cuz he knows you I think."
            Crow narrowed his gaze. "There a reason you're bothering me?" he asked.
            "Heard a lot of your friends are gone. You wouldn't know where they are now, would you?"
            "We're done here."
            Crow immediately went back into his room. Amanda drew breath through her teeth and had an unsure look on her face. "I dunno what that was, but he's usually a lot friendlier." James backed his way towards the elevator. Amanda followed. "I guess he's just upset that all his friends left," she continued "But he's always been a much sunnier person."
            "Even behind all that eyeliner?" James asked. "Don't knock it," Amanda said "He makes it look good." James called for the elevator and took the book back out. "You think he's involved in something?" Amanda asked as James stepped back into the elevator. "I'm not too sure," James said "But do me a favor, would you?"
            "Of course," Amanda said as she stood straight and smiled. "You know that other cop? The one that went with Mark?"
            "Yeah, I remember him."
            "Could you just find him and let him know about my little chat with Crow? He'll know what to do from there."
            "You can't tell him yourself?"
            "I need to be somewhere, specifically not here. Gotta go out of town for a case."
            "Oh," Amanda said with a look of disappointment "Leaving town already?"
            "I'll be back before you know it," James said with a smile "We'll do dinner when I get back?"
            "I'll hold you to that," Amanda said as the doors closed, leaving James to go down alone.
            "Real smooth, James," he said as he dropped his head against the wall. Finding Crow caught him off guard and blundering right at the supposed man behind all of this was probably the last thing James should have done. Crow was odd, but something was definitely up with the man. The only real problem was convincing any cop in Chicago to do anything about him.
            James decided not to let any of that bother him when he stepped off the elevator. He made his way to the street as police brushed their way passed him on their way in. James immediately walked to John's car and fired up the engine. He had some serious driving to do, and dinner with a redhead waiting for him when he got back. But first, he needed some coffee for the road.

Demons Ascension - The Room

[Posted by Ted H]

So I attempted a follow-up to my Oblivion play through where I finished the Fighters Guild quest and made fun of them some more, but ultimately decided it wasn't worth the effort. The gist of if was that they waited until the 11th hour of the quest line to make the rival guild look as evil as they'd been talking about. The final quest solved the "evil" guild problem but did little to nothing over how useless the Fighters Guild still was.

On the bright side, you'll get even more of the novel, which is now [finally] going somewhere plot-wise!
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[Demons Ascension - The Room]

            The center that James was banking on turned out to be a low rent apartment complex. Some outer windows were boarded up and the front door to the entire building looked recently replaced. They milled around for a few minutes while James sucked his sweet nicotine from his newly purchased pack of cigarettes. The weight of last nights rain still hung heavily in the air, adding to the bitter cold that even the rising sun didn't seem able to penetrate.
            "You're sure about this place, right?" John asked as James blew and extended puff of smoke from his mouth. "No," he said "But if Bradford puts the lockdown on me at any more important places, then this is our best bet." He took a final drag from his cigarette and flicked it away as they approached the front steps. They had to step under some scaffolding since a part of the wall high up was being painted over. James figured it was graffiti since this was such a "nice" part of town, to which he chuckled since he really didn't think any part of Chicago was particularly "nice".
            The door opened when James tugged at it, which struck him as odd since he figure such a door would have some sort of measure to only let people in who lived there. "Up or down?" John asked as they stood in the cramped front lobby. James rolled his eyes as he looked for a basement access. "Always down," he said as  he found an elevator and called for it.
            The elevator let off into a dingy basement hallway. The walls were worn and dirty and James figured at least a dozen rats lived in the walls somewhere. "Ain't exactly the Ritz, is it?" John said as James walked forward. To their immediate left was an entry to where various washing machines and dryers were, many of which had an "out of order" sign taped on top. Across the hall was a common room with a single exposed light bulb that hung unlit. Farther down the hall were various storage closets and a small office that looked disused, a thick layer of dust rested on the desk and various cobwebs stretched from the sides.
            At the far end of the hall was a small stone staircase that twisted farther down. There was no light for the stairwell and John instinctively pulled out his flashlight. As John flashed light down the stairs, James could see they dropped down a few steps, then cut off in a new direction down. "After you," James said with a smile. Before either man could move, a voice called out from behind them.
            "You boys, you need help?" John and James turned to see a man in a button down blue shirt and jeans looking at them from down the hall. He didn't look much older than 50, but he had a neglected beard growing that was a much lighter color than his jet black dye job hair. He spoke with an accent from eastern Europe, but still spoke clearly enough for James to understand. He walked cautiously towards them while eyeing them up. "You don't live here," he said "I know every person who lives here, and even most of those peoples family, and I've never seen either of you two before. This building is full, there is no sign for vacancy." James forced a smile as he stepped in front of John towards the man. "I'm James," he said as he motioned towards John with his arm "And this here is John."
            "You not understand me? I'm calling the cops," the man said as James called for him to wait. "What a coincidence!" he shouted as he elbowed John "That's what we are." The man looked at James, then back to John as John pulled out his badge. "Detective John Praque," he said as he emphasized his title "And this is James Blake."
            "You two cops?" the man asked.
            "Why yes, yes we are," James said before John could say anything.
            "What seems to, uh, be the problem, officers?"
            "What's down this way?"
            "Down there?" the man asked "Nothing. Cellar, storage, those types things. Also where we keep the sump. Nobody goes down there anymore. Light in the stairwell went out years ago and I never bothered replacing it. No one care."
            "You're in charge of maintenance?" John asked. "This and many other buildings," the man said with pride in his voice "Name's Mark."
            "Mark?" James asked with skepticism.
            "I came here named Marek, but no one calls me that. They say Mark much easier. I say it's one letter. They say not so simple. I call them simple. They get mad. This long time ago, I grow used to Mark so I keep it."
            "Well, uh, Mark," James said as he motioned behind himself "Mind if we take a look downstairs anyway?" Mark licked the inside of his mouth as he tilted his head. "What is it you two are looking for anyway? That is the old basement, original. No one goes down there anymore," he said. "Murder investigation," John said with a flat face and a matter of fact tone "We have reason to believe this building may be involved."
            "Now that you mention it," Mark said while nodding to himself "Someone has been vandalizing over front of building. Had to paint over it yesterday. Going to put second coat up this morning." Both James and John looked at each other before looking back to Mark. "This vandalism," James asked "Was it a symbol of some sort?"
            Mark shook his head. "No," he said "It word. Some gang or something. I already paint over."
            "What was the word?" John asked out of curiosity. Mark looked back to John and shook his head. "It not matter," he said. "What do you mean?" John asked "What did you paint over? What word?" Mark pressed his lips together for a moment. "Why does it matter?" he asked "It just word."
            "You can't read, can you?" James said as Mark shrugged. "I read," he said "Just not English. Don't need to read your language to do job. I work here for many years and not need to read." James laughed at this notion, while John made a less amused face.
            "Can we just go downstairs?" James asked. "What rush do you have to go down dark and scary stairs?" Mark said "Bad things happen in dark places, like killer."  James looked down the stairs and back at Mark with a smile. "Well that's exactly what we're looking for," he said as he started blindly down the stairs before climbing back up. "Seriously, flashlight, I can't see a damn thing."
            There was a different, working light at the base of the stairs. "So," James said as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room "The basements basement. Cozy." The room was entirely concrete and stonework with two doors leading out. One door was metal with "Pump" written across the front. Next to it was a clipboard that hadn't been touched in at least a decade. The door on the far side of the room was wooden with nothing written on it.
            "What's that door?" James asked as he pointed to the wooden door. "Is nothing," Mark said "Room has been locked. Nothing in there now but mold and bugs." James walked over to the door and tried the handle to find it locked. He then noticed scratched around the door frame both old and some more recent. "Open it," he said to Mark.
            "You think?" Mark asked. "Oh yeah," James said "Police business and all that." Mark shrugged and pulled out his keys and fished through them. "This master key," he said as he held up a single key on the ring "Opens every door in the building."
            "Even old basement doors?" John asked as Mark walked up to the door. "Oh yes," Mark said "The building is old, even the renovated parts above ground, but none of the doors down here have ever been replaced." He slid his key into the door as he spoke. "I work here many years, too many to count, and never a new door. Least of all down here..." he trailed off as he attempted to turn the lock. A few moments passed and the door remained locked. Mark grunted as he continued.
            "Problem?" James asked. "No problem," Mark said "Old lock, that's all."
            "I don't think it's an old lock," John said as he shone his flashlight on the door handle. The lock lacked the layers of dirt and grime that the rest of the room had piled on. "That isn't the original lock," James said as Mark gave up and took his key out. "Impossible. I never replaced the lock here," Mark protested. "Someone else did though," James said "And they didn't want anyone else in here."
            "No one lives there, right?" James asked. Mark shook his head.
            "And no one comes down this way?" Mark shook his head again.
            "It never occurred to you that someone might be trying to use this room for whatever reason?" Mark yet again shook his head.
            "Any camera footage?" John suggested "Something that could tell us who came down the basement and when?" Mark frowned. "No cameras in building. It's not that kind of place."
            "We need to get in here," John said. Mark began for the stairs. "I will call my supervisor," he said "See how we can get this door open. You two wait upstairs while I make call, ok?" With that, Mark disappeared up the stairs. James trailed his fingers against some of the scratches and markings along the door frame.
            "Is he gone?" he asked. John checked behind himself towards the stairs and shrugged at James. "I guess, why?" he asked as James dug into his pockets and crouched near the door. "Keep watch," he said as he pulled out some lock picking tools "Best if our friend Mark isn't around for this next part."
            "We can't just do this," John said "We need a warrant. There's a procedure." James only laughed. "YOU need a warrant," he said as he picked at the lock "I can do whatever I need to." John sighed and turned away. "If you're wrong about this, then this is breaking and entering," he said as James tinkered. "It's not B and E," James replied "I'm not breaking anything. They'll never know I was here. This is more like trespassing. And if we catch the killer because of this, it'll be known as a game changer."
            "How good are you at that?" John asked, rolling his eyes.
            "Got us into the library at Cazenovia, remember?"
            "That was different."
            "Tell me about it, those doors were all jokes. I remember I could break into the main residence hall with a butter knife, the latch was that exposed."
            "That was a long time ago, too."
            "I've...practiced."
            "Do I want to know?"
            "Plausible deniability is your friend in this case."
            The soft click and a turning latch brought a smile to James. "Shall we?" he asked as he pocketed his gear and stood up. John waved his arm but did not turn around. James chuckled as he turned the knob and leaned in to push open the door, but it still wouldn't budge. "...The hell?" he said as he pushed into the door again but couldn't open it. "You sure you picked the lock?" John asked as James started knocking up and down the door. "The knob turns," he said "Something else must be blocking this shut."
            "Bolted?" John asked as James shook his head. "If that was the case, only part of the door wouldn't budge," James said as he pushed the door one last time "The entire thing is shut."
            "Maybe it's just an old door," John said "Maybe the roof sagged and the door's buckled shut." James ignored him as he went over to the metal door and picked the clipboard off the wall. The clipboard had a pencil attached with a string and only a few pieces of yellowed paper. James placed the paper on the scratches on the doorframe and rubbed the pencil over them to leave an imprint. "You honestly think we'd have better luck figuring out those symbols?" John asked as James folded the paper up and put it in his pocket. "I know a guy," he said as he looked over the door again.
            "This door's not wedged shut or anything stupid like that," James said "I've never seen it in person, but maybe it's sealed magically." James looked over to John to see him with a puzzled look on his face. "You mean..." he began but stopped "What do you mean?"
            "These symbols along the frame where the door closes," James said as he pointed each out "Perhaps they're sealing the door against unauthorized entry...and if that's the case..." he trailed off and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Suddenly he wasn't feeling so well with where this was all going. Stan and Amy had been odd, often unsettling conversations, but everything was starting to fall into place in terms of why this case wasn't making sense.
            "So, if this door is as "sealed" as you claim it is, how do we get in there?" John asked "I mean IF I can land us a warrant to open this door and search, and that's going to require some favors are the very least, how are we suppose to get through?"
            James looked over the entire door frame and smiled. "We're good," he said "Though I guess I will be doing the "breaking" part of the B and E."
            "I don't understand," John said as James took a step back. "It's an old door," he said as he kicked the door as hard as he could. The door held, but a noticeable crack formed on the far side where the hinge on the other side held it. Whoever put the protection on the door probably never figured anyone would try to kick it down from the hinge side, let alone find it to begin with, a fruitless tactic of not for the fact that the door was rotting and neglected after decades in a damp, disused basement. The protection would keep the latched side shut, but James had no desire to open it that way anymore.
            Another kick and the door leaned back. James kicked a third time, this time much higher and the door cracked at its other hinge. One final kick between the hinges and the door swung awkwardly in on its wrong side before toppling out of the frame all together. "Practicality: 1, supernatural: 0," James said triumphantly as John gave a sarcastic slow clap. Immediately afterwards, both men recoiled at the smell that washed over them. "My God!" John exclaimed. The bitter and sour smell keeping either man from walking forward into the darkness. "Don't your cop senses tell you that that ain't right and you should investigate?" James asked as he plugged his nose and breathed through his mouth. "You couldn't pay me to go in there right now," John said as he pulled out a handkerchief to breathe through.
            James leaned into the dark doorway, but couldn't find a light switch in the immediate area. "Are you gonna come in or not?" James asked as John shook his head. "Apparently warrants are a big deal," James said as he extended his hand out "At least give me your flashlight?" he asked. John rolled his eyes and handed it over. "Need my gun, too?" he asked as James turned the light on and entered. "Nah, I'm good," he said "But hey, if I go ten feet in here and just cry for help, would you be required to enter anyway, warrant or no warrant?" John thought about it for a moment then nodded. "That would work," he said.
            James slowly made his way through the dark, his feet walking over wet concrete as he searched the walls with his flashlight for any sort of switch. He tried to ignore the fact that it probably wasn't water he was walking on. The smell was intensifying, but James had strangely begun to get used to it and ignore it, which he was still deciding whether or not that was a good sign. The flashlight, which shone bright enough all the times it was used before, seemed to struggle to provide adequate light, as if the darkness in this room was somehow too thick to pierce brightly.
            The last thing on James' mind was the notion that there was anything else in the darkness with him. He found it odd that there were rats in the basement level above when there was an easily accessible level of darkness below that. What could possibly be going on down here that even rats would refuse to venture?
            In the middle of the room was a candelabrum. James pulled out his lighter and lit up the six candles. The light they offered allowed James to see a light switch on the far side of the room. Even as James crossed the room, he could tell what the moisture on the ground was, but he put the thought aside as he flicked the lights on. An electrical hum sounded as two lights on the ceiling lit up, giving a dim glow to a red colored room. Empty wine racks lined an entire wall as James easily guessed the rooms original purpose.
            James looked about the floor where blood pooled around most of the floor and a few chunks of unknown meat sat festering. In the far corner of the room were three steps leading up to another small room. As James climbed the stairs, he realized that all of the blood on the floor had spilled out from this raised room. James could make out a few details from the small slivers of light making their way in from an unknown point on the far side.
            James scanned the area around him with the flash light and noticed a flood light hooked up to a battery. He powered it on and the light sprung to life, almost blinding James with how fast and powerfully it lit up the room. James waited a minute for his eyes to adjust to the bright intensity and then focused on what he could now see.
            The middle of the room had a platform raising several inches off the ground. On the platform was a table with a large, leather book and several metal instruments, wire cutters and steel thread. The entire room was coated with blood, even up to the ceiling. Even more chunks of meat were piled in three various locations in the small room. The only parts of the room that weren't crimson were the book itself and parts of the wall that had black symbols drawn all over, many of which James already recognized from before, including the C symbol that was at all the crime scenes. At the far end was a stone staircase leading up to a surface door held shut by a padlock on the inside.
            The smell that had been so prevalent before was gone now. This was obviously the source of it now, but James could not smell anything. He found he couldn't hear John milling about anymore either. Before he could hear him coughing, mumbling to himself and remarking about the smell, but now it's as if John wasn't there anymore. James could hear his own breathing and smell his own self, but it was as if this room didn't exist in the same plane of reality, like he had stepped through a portal and could only see as if he was still on earth.
            "John, get in here," James yelled out as he stepped up and onto the platform. He fixated on the book, the only thing free of blood stain despite it being at the center of the bloodbath that the room had become. He reached down and touched it, finding it only looked like faded leather but it felt much different, different than anything he'd ever experienced before. Despite having every reason to the contrary, James picked the book up, immediately feeling a sense of dread and fear coarse up and down his spine as he did. He opened the book and tried to read a random page, but couldn't make out the writing.
            "James!" John screamed as he stepped into the room, almost causing James to drop the book and scream. "Holy crap, what is it?" James asked as John looked at him baffled. "I've been calling out to you and you didn't answer," John said "I didn't know what happened."
            "You didn't hear me tell you to get in here?" James asked.
            "You didn't say anything. I saw you disappear into this room and that was it. Ten minutes and nothing. I got worried."
            "Ten minutes?" James asked "Let's not exaggerate. I was in here maybe three minutes, tops."
            "Look at all this blood! That is what it is, right? And what are those piles of? Organs?"
            "I have no idea. But it would take more than one dead person to make this kind of mess. How could the police miss something like this?"
            "Maybe everyone involved live here."
            "Yeah. It's not a big place, but it defiantly houses more than enough people. Anyone go recently missing though?
            "You know how long our missing persons list is?"
            "What about Mark? Guy says he knows everyone. Maybe he's noticed something."
            "You think maybe he might be involved?"
            "That's...actually an interesting idea. He just seems too out of it to be involved."
            "You'd be surprised at how some people in this town can surprise you."
            "Think he would know anyone named Crow?"
            "What the hell is a Crow?"
            "Just look into that, ok?"
            "Should I even bother asking why or how you think that's relevant?"
            "You know me so well."
            "Look, this place is fucked up. I'm calling it in, and I don't want you in the middle of everything again when backup arrives."
            "Yeah..." James said as he looked down at his shaking hands that still had a grip on the book, wanting nothing more than to leave this room and never come back "Let's go."

Demons Ascension - Where The Magic Happens

[Posted by Ted H]

Whoops, did I miss a week? My bad. I'll make it up with something a little different next meek(maybe)

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[Demons Ascension - Where The Magic Happens]

            "How come I'm the only one in cuffs?" James asked yet again. He had lost count, but he still wanted to know why John was allowed to sit with his hands free while his hands remained bonded behind his back. "Could you just stop, please?" John asked as he leaned back in his chair and looked to the ceiling. James shifted uncomfortably in his chair, it wasn't able to lean back like John's was.
            "So this is where the magic happens, eh?" James asked after a moment "Your desk?"
            John shrugged without looking away from the ceiling. "It's where the paperwork happens," he said.
            "So how much trouble are we in?"
            "Judging by how he was yelling? Not as much as you think?"
            "Really? I thought he was fuming?"
            "I've seen Bradford pissed. He tends to wave his gun around and scream gibberish."
            "So you're saying he was in a good mood?"
            "Well, the fact that he was able to get onto the crime scene before the body cooled off was a plus, despite how it was tapered by the fact that you had practically been dancing around the entire scene."
            "I didn't step in anything."
            "Stephanie's room and the Williams alley were both already gone over with a fine tooth comb by the time I brought you in. No one minded you meddling through then, but the church was going over the line."
            "You brought me in here to help, not sit on the sidelines and backseat drive."
            "How did you know about the church?" John said as he sat up and looked right at James. There was nowhere for James to go. John had all the time in the world and James was handcuffed in the middle of a police station. "I'm just gonna say it straight up," he said "Don't think I'm crazy or anything."
            James checked around himself to make sure no one else would be able to listen in. The station was mostly empty. It was only around 5am but there were a few officers milling about. "I woke up and there was someone in the living room with me," James said.
            "Lyle?" John asked.
            "No not Lyle," James snapped "Someone else. Someone I've never seen before. I don't know how they got in and I don't know how they got out, but we had a conversation going until he abruptly stopped it and told me to head for the church."
            "Can you describe this guy? Maybe he's involved."
            "He's not involved. Not directly. He had particular interest in me stopping whoever is behind the murders."
            "What he look like?"
            "Glowing red eyes, smokers voice, older type."
            "No one I've seen in this investigation. Not that I'll be seeing much more of it anyway."
            "You didn't do anything wrong. Hell, you were trying to chase down the guy responsible while I was off doing what I did."
            "I brought you in here. Bradford made it clear you were my responsibility. So you going through the crime scene before the proper authorities is being placed squarely on my shoulders."
            "Be square with me, what are we looking at when Bradford gets here?"
            "Odds are he'll find any reason he can to get you out of town, and if he doesn't, Chief Monroe will once he gets word about this. I'm probably looking at some sort of discipline too."
            "Is that so?" James asked as he looked around the area "Then we have little time left to figure something new out." John threw his hands onto his desk "What can we possibly do at this point?" he asked.
            "Where's Bradford's area?" James asked as John pointed to a desk across the room. Near the desk was a white board with various things written and pictures taped on. James stood up and walked over to the board. "What do you think you're doing?" John asked as he followed. "This is everything Bradford knows about the murders, huh?" James asked as he looked over the board.
            There was nothing new for James to see from any of the information posted. No motive for the murders and no connection to the two victims. James had been hoping that seeing all the information laid out before him would help him piece together something he wasn't already seeing, but there was nothing to gain.
            On the far right of the board was a map of the area; two places marked as the crime scenes in marker. "Where is the church on this map?" James asked as John asked "Why?"
            "Just please humor me?" James said as he tried to readjust his hands behind his back. The handcuffs were really beginning to hurt his wrists. He tried to ignore the pain as John checked the map for where the church was. James remember Stan pretty much sent them in a straight line from Brittany and Stephanie's house. That couldn't have been by chance.
            "Here," John said as he pointed to where the church was on the map. "Could you get me out of these cuffs?" James asked "It's not like I'd get far if I ran in a building full of cops." A few moments late, James was free and after stretching his arms for a moment, he went up to the map.
            "This is your sister's house," he said pointing to the map, then trailed his finger in a straight line east until he stopped "And this is the church. He then backtracked west on the map halfway, then dropped south until his finger rested on another marked point. "And this is the Williams alley. All three points are perfectly measured. The same distance."
            James then grabbed a pencil and drew three more marks on the map. One directly between the church and the sisters house, and two more, one directly south of the house and church that lined up with the alley. "These could be potential targets," James said as John stared at the map a moment "There might be a pattern. If there is, we can head off the next murder before it happens."
            "Bradford won't buy this," John said "If we're going to bring something to his attention, we need something concrete." James made a face and stared at the map again. "These three points are worth checking out at least," he said but even he knew it was a stretch. The first three were what he needed to be looking at. Their positions made a perfect triangle and that was no accident.
            "The locations are intentional," he said to himself as he traced the triangle on the map with his finger. "The center," he said as he placed his finger there "What is this?" John looked and shrugged. "What would it matter?" he asked. John took a breath. "The one thing that's been bugging Bradford has been the randomness of each location while everything else about the murders have been the same. A home, an alley and now a church? What's the point in these locations except the fact that it's the physical distance they make that's important, not the locations themselves. Those symbols, what direction do you remember them facing?"
            John shrugged. James thought a moment before continuing. "The one in the alley faced directly north. The side of your sister's house that had the symbol? Wasn't it facing southeast? I bet you my life that somewhere on the church facing southwest is another symbol. That means they're all facing towards a central point," he threw his finger to the center point on the map. "It's all part of these rituals. The MO, the symbols, the locations, they're all part of something and whatever this building is, that is the key."
            "Bradford doesn't think they're ritual slayings," John said "He thinks the ritual elements you bring up were staged so they throw the investigation off."
            "So, even if I point everything out to him again," James said "He won't even check out this middle building?" John shook his head.
            "Well then," James said with a smile "I guess it's up to us."
            "No..." John started.
            "Look," James broke in "What do you think Bradford will do with us once he gets here? He's gonna threaten us, and tell us to stay the hell away from the investigation. So unless we bring his something good now..."
            John shook his head as he lowered it "I...I don't know, man. Haven't we done enough?"
            "John," James said as he placed a hand on John's shoulder "You brought me in to this to help solve it. There's only so much I can do by following what the police are doing. Help me run this lead down, otherwise why bother bringing me in?" John bit his lip as he looked up at James.
            "It'll be like the old days," James continued "The police can run their own investigation, while we do our own thing and catch the bad guy." John sighed as he stood up. "You won't take no for an answer, will you?" he said. "We try this one lead," James said "And if it doesn't work out, I promise I'll stay on the sidelines and be good and useless like everyone else wants me to be."
            "I know you're lying about that last part," John said "But fuck it, let's go for it." James smiled as he slapped John on the back. "Sweet! Now let's go before Bradford shows up."

Demons Ascension - Church

For those wondering...we're not even at the halfway point...The full version is available upon request though...

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[Demons Ascension - Church]

            Stan had pulled the same disappearing trick Amy had been doing when James turned away at one point, but not before telling him where he needed to get to, stressing the fact that he needed to hurry. James all but kicked down the guest room door to wake John up and they were now speeding along in John's car. The only coherent thing John could get out of James was that they needed to go east as fast as humanly possible.
            "Looking for a church," James said as John sped down the street. James had hoped there was a speed trap so that they could have a couple patrol cars in tow when they arrived. "Only one church on this street," John said as he drove "Why the hell are we going there? You said something about a tip." James didn't want to get into it, mainly because he knew exactly how it would sound. He knew he wasn't dreaming or crazy though when he noticed the stains on the carpet in the living room from where Stan shattered his glass. "Just get me to that church," James said, feeling uneasy still from his previous conversation.
            The rain had all but stopped by the time they arrived at St. Josephs Catholic Church. James jumped out and sprinted through the yard and up stone stairs for the front doors. He uselessly pulled at them, but they refused to swing open. "The place is closed," John said as he came up the walkway "I'm sure any sins you need to confess can wait.
            "Gotta be another way in," James said to himself as he turned to see John looking up at him with an odd look on his face. "Ready to explain things yet?" he asked as James looked out at the surrounding street. Everything around him was bathed in the night, the only light coming from wherever a streetlight was. The entire street was calm and silent, with darkness only broken up by the occasional pool of light before plunging back into darkness. A figure slowly making their way away from the church caught James' eye as it passed into light momentarily, the light shining in such stark contrast to the night around it that James was able to clearly make him out as if it were day.
            "Gray trench coat," James said as he noticed the coat the hooded figure was wearing. "I see him," John said as James jumped down the stairs and took off after the man. "Get the car!" he yelled as he sped up down the road after the man, flashing his way through the pools of light as the figure glanced back and noticed James before taking off down a different street. There was no way in hell James was about to buy a coincidence that a man wearing the same color trench coat was walking away from the same place James had been led to by...suspicious means. James wasn't ready just yet to admit to who he was having a conversation with before, but he was more open to believing it now that he was chasing down his potential suspect.
            James turned down the street the man had run down to find that he had covered an uncanny amount of ground before James could see him again. John then came up following in his car, the wheels squealing on the slick pavement as he turned the corner and roared down the street, barely missing James as he flew down the street in pursuit. The suspect kept running at a Usain Bolt level of speed before turning the corner again in an effort to lose John. This only served to support James' "Superman did it" theory, but he figured then the suspect would just fly away.
            James figured John was calling for backup if not already. He decided to head back for the church and wait for someone else to arrive and also to see if there was an alternate way in. If the suspect had indeed come from within the church, then there would have to be a way in that James could exploit. James walked over to the side of the church facing the direction he had come from. Towards the back was an entrance hidden from the street by some bushes. James walked up to find the handle broken and the door hanging ajar. "This is encouraging," he said as he walked in.
            Inside was a hallway that led strait from where James entered and a stairway directly to his left that went up. James noticed a set of bloody footprints on the stairs and decided to go up, being careful not to step near the footprints. The trail led up and through an additional room before he entered into the church proper. The lights were left on and James got a good look at the scene. "Oh, this can't be holy," James said as he wandered deeper into the crime scene.
            Blood had been spilled everywhere and was overflowing out of the baptism fountain. Laid out in the middle of the floor by the alter was a man, stripped nude and had his arms strait out on each side like he was on a cross. His chest looked as if it had been ripped open and left that way as he sported his own impressive pool of blood. Crumpled up near one of the pews in front were ripped up black clothes. James stepped over some blood and looked at the clothes, then looked at the man on the ground.
            "A priest," he said as he walked over to the body. The MO so far seemed to match up with the previous murders. Looking into the open chest cavity, James could tell the heart was missing, but he also noticed the position of all the organs; they had been taken out and placed back in reverse positioning. James also noticed a different injury not present on any of the other victims; a slash across the palm of the man's right hand.
            James could hear sirens as he left the body and continued looking elsewhere around the church. Nearby he found a bloody box cutter. No way it could have done the damage James saw, but he figured it was used by the priest against his attacker. "Or maybe," James said to himself as he looked back at the priest "He used it on himself."
            James scanned the area farther away from the scene. This priest knew he was going to die. Perhaps he tried to get a message off the only way he could. He would cut open his hand and leave a message in blood about his attacker, but he couldn't do it near where he'd die or else the message would be lost. "Where would I leave my dying message?" James asked as he heard the police begin to force their way in through the front doors of the church.
            "Of course!" he exclaimed as he ran over, jumped over the pool of blood and ascended the two steps leading up to the altar. On the table were a few large, hastily scrawled letters in blood. "C, R, O, A," James read aloud "and an L?" The first four letters were uppercase, but the L was lowercase, it merely being a straight line that trailed all the way off the table, as if the priest had been pulled away while he was writing.
            The front doors crashed open and two officers rushed inside, guns drawn. James turned around at the altar with his arm raised. "Boy, do I have some explaining to do or what?" he said with a forced smile.
            Unsurprisingly, James had been detained at the scene while the officers waited for more backup. Over an hour later, Bradford strolled in with John in tow, neither had a happy look on their faces. "Tell me you caught the guy," James asked as John made a face and shook his head. "Guy moved fast. Jumped out of view and lost me."
            "Well that's just great. How about we get these cuffs off me, huh?" James said to John "Could you tell these guys I'm one of the good guys?"
            "This is my scene and I call the shots here, remember?" Bradford broke in "And personally, I think it better if we leave you that way. Now what were you doing here?"
            "Just making sure everyone here was ok. I'm not so sure about the priest, you might wanna check on him."
            "Do I look amused? Praque tells me you two were only here by chance because you woke him up in the middle of the night and said "Let's take a drive." So how bout it?"
            "Would you even believe me if I tried to tell you?"
            "Blake, I swear to God, don't fuck with me. Why. Were. You. Here?"
            The two men stared at each other a moment before James figured something to say. "Just following the clues, detective."
            Bradford took a deep breath and forced it out through his teeth. "I want him out of here!" he barked "Bring him to the station!" he turned to find John "You go with him!" he yelled, not allowing John or James to even protest "I'll deal with you both when I'm done here."