A Dance Of Gods ✓

6. They Deserved It

Taylor

  I look from body to body, already shaking. I must be having another hallucination- that is the the only thing that would justify what I'm seeing. I step over the younger officer who tried to keep me for questioning yesterday and my shoe leaves a print in the pool of blood sourced from his stomach. Bile rises up in my throat. I force myself to swallow it.

  This isn't real. It can't be.

  A sane person would scream- maybe run out or have a panic attack. A sane person would not continue exploring or spend way too long staring at the officer's faces. Upon discovering the seventh- a woman in her late twenties, I reach out to touch her face. She doesn't fade to nothing like expected. Instead my fingers touch skin, still warm.

  It hits then.

  This.... I haven't completely lost my mind.

  I can't hold it back now no matter how hard I've tried. I turn, facing away from the front desk and projectile vomit bile on a set of blue chairs. I sit on the floor; head in my hands while I think about what to do. I may already be on some sort of watchlist and this won't help. Getting Rhea involved would mean her forking out more cash on my behalf than she already has- and her family name being connected to another criminal case. That is a last resort, I decide.

  Surely they won't think I was able to do something like this alone. There's just so, so much blood and- oh god the holding cell.

  I'm standing up, my mind fighting my body before I can stop it. I walk down the hallway leading to it- having been here once before when Kaden got a DUI. When I peek around the corner, I'm met with the same theme as the rest of this place. Two dead bodies- with bent iron bars. One of them sits with their hands over their eyes like they died afraid.

  What to do....

  I could just leave- but that would be immoral and there are probably cameras somewhere, recording my every move. I don't bother to go check if the security guy's alive.

  I take a few deep breaths, walk back to the front desk and reach around another body to grab the officer's walkie talkie. I press a few buttons, remembering our class's choice communication method in Hawaii.

  "H-hello? Is anybody there?" My voice cracks, met with silence for over thirty seconds. "Hello?"

  I start instinctively reaching for my phone before I remember I don't have one anymore.

  "Hello?" Desperation fills my tone.

  Nothing. Fucking nothing. Maybe I should just-

  "Hello? What have you done to Officer Fanou?" Oh thank god.

  "I..." I decide to choose my words very carefully. "I didn't do anything sir I think... I think a serial killer decided to stop by the NYC station."

  On the other end, whoever I'm speaking to stops what they're doing.

  "Jesus- how many?" He cautiously asks. I picture him already pulling up the mental health section of an empty file on his computer.

  "What?"

  "How many dead?" He repeats himself.

  "I... I don't know there...  a-all of them?" I stutter.

  "Are you alone right now? What's your name?" He takes on a kinder tone.

  "I.... think so. Maybe." Every little sound I've heard the past three minutes now reminds me of human footsteps- not a hundred year old building settling. "Taylor Jensen."

  "Alright Taylor- I'm sending a few officers over from queens. Are you...  by any chance suffering from mental illness?" Called it.

  "Not yet." I shrug.

  "Alright.... I'm gonna ask you to stay with me until the... other officers arrive."

"I can... I can do that."

So I do- with my face buried in the crook of my left elbow so I don't vomit again. I can almost feel them on me, touching me, dripping blood on my borrowed white tank top.

I put up with the officer's small talk for almost fifteen minutes as he tries to distract me from the bodies and the endless stream of questions- once the others arrive and see I'm not fucking crazy.

They get my statement outside, tell me we'll be in contact- but I get the vibe that the questioning was the extent of my involvement. I told them the full truth; that I saw nobody suspicious as I approached the station, nothing that would indicate what was inside.

They offer me a ride- which I deny. It's a nice afternoon- I should enjoy what I can of it.

My feet feel heavy as I drag them along the sidewalk. I bump into a few people, earning some swear words- but I don't care. I'm still deep in processing what just happened and how quickly it did when "Lucifer Morningstar" appears from behind a tree and blocks my path.

"Please stop stalking me."

"I'm not— and you're welcome."

"For.....What?" I step slightly back, my heart racing- and he lets me.

"The cops- they would have taken up too much of your time and they were all shitty people anyways."

Fuck. Fuck me I'm less than ten feet away from a murderer- and on what must be the only empty street in New York city. Don't show fear. They feed off of that.

"Y.... You killed them?" The tingling starts in my fingers again, intensity growing when I look him in the eyes.

"Of course I did- oh don't look at me like that every last one of them deserved it. Seven of them helped cover for the one that murdered a kid last year. One was part of a drug ring responsible for eighteen overdoses and the guys in the cage assaulted a five year old. They were going to take up too much of your time anyways and it was the perfect way to ensure that didn't happen- that the other stations get so swamped with cases and transfers they forget about your existence. Just... come with me. The more time we waste- the longer I'm away from hell."

Ah. So he's the crazy one.

"Which is exactly where you'll be going-" I kick him in the throat- an attempt to give myself enough time to run- but he catches my foot and I land on my back, hitting my head on the way down.

"Sorry about that- I'm not used to those around me being so fragile. Now, as I was saying-"

It happens again- so fast that I can't stop it. A burning sensation fills my hands- and then "Lucifer's" are suddenly on fire. He looks at them like he feels nothing and the flames shrink. Not a mark is left on his flesh.

"You gonna listen to me now?"