Drapetomania | Shadowhunters [Jace Wayland]

17; Dead Mundie

[A/N: The GIFs for some reason are not working, so please just bear a few chapters without them. Thank you for your cooperation!]

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Tris sighed frustratedly as she gripped the pencil tighter, the Institute room's lights dim. Angrily, she furiously scribbled across the page, tearing it. She slammed the pencil down and leaned back on the chair, crossing her arms across her chest. For the past four hours, she had just tried to focus on this image popping into her head, that she needed to do something.

Going for a run would definitely not be permitted by Aldertree. Even the thought of the English man made her eyes roll in annoyance. She turned her head towards the sound of the door opening and found Isabelle smiling at her.

"Demon attack downtown. One mundane dead," she said. "And we don't have a personal doctor, so you're with us. Be down in a few, okay?"

Tris nodded, offering the girl a smile she returned before leaving. Tris sighed, looking at the ground and looking up once the door opened up again and in walked Nick, tears streaming his cheeks. 

"Nick, what's wrong?" 

"It was her," he sobbed, being pulled into his girlfriend's embrace. "My-My friend who died a couple years ago, she wasn't murdered, or pushed from the edge of a building like everyone else thought. She killed herself."

"I'm sorry, Nick," the girl pressed a kiss on his shoulder before hugging him again.

That story couldn't have reminded Tris of someone so similar.

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"We got a 10-54."

The police crowded around the area and one of them said, "I don't see a dead body, though."

"Nothing to see," the coloured male spoke. "It's a false alarm. Just some dumbass kids pulling a prank. All right, you have a good night, huh?" 

"You, too."

Once the police cleared out, Tris stepped out from her hiding place and walked over to the dead body that was glamoured to all mundanes. She grimaced seeing the body that had a hole punched through his chest.

"Well, this is one nasty demon," she frowned, crouching down beside the body. "Punched a hole right through his chest."

"With that kind of strength, I doubt it's done yet," Isabelle said, agreeing with the Lewis girl.

"Do we know how long he's been out here?" Tris asked, looking at Luke who shakes his head. "Then I need to check up on something real quick."

Tris crouched low beside the body, her face curling in disgust as her black jeans soak some of the man's blood. She went to touch the man's eyelid, but Alec shrieked.

"What are you doing?!"

"Quite down," Tris rolled her eyes. "It's called rigor mortis." 

"I'm sorry," Clary cleared her throat. "What?"

"Rigor mortis, or postmortem rigidity, is the third stage of death. It's characterized by stiffening of the limbs of the corpse caused by chemical changes in the muscles postmortem. In humans, rigor mortis can occur as soon as four hours after death."

"So why are you touching his eyelids?" Isabelle asked, raising her brows.

"At the time of death, a condition called "primary flaccidity" occurs. Following this, the muscles stiffen in rigor mortis. All muscles in the body are affected. Starting between two and six hours following death, rigor mortis begins with the eyelids, neck, and jaw. The sequence may be due to different lactic acid levels among different muscles, which is directly related to the difference in glycogen levels and different types of muscle fibers. Rigor mortis then spreads to the other muscles, including the internal organs, within the next four to six hours."