Hospital

Officer Brooke Mullins approached the abandoned warehouse with her partner, Reuben Hill. They had gotten a call about a lot of noise, primarily screaming. When they had pulled up, her partner had commented on ritual energy and called it in.

Mullins took the lead, gun out and ready. Behind her, Hill covered the rear, wand out and already chanting a spell. They were prepared for anything except what they found.

"Fuck."

Mullins spoke softly as she covered her mouth, trying hard not to throw up. She had been working long enough that death should not bother her, but the carnage they saw went beyond anything she had ever experienced.

"Call this in. We need experts."

The sound of Hill retching made her wince as the sound threatened her thin control. She stepped away and turned to speak into the radio clipped to her shoulder.

"We got us a possible code red. I wanna say it's a 187, but that's not strong enough to describe this."

There was static on the other side, "Any survivors?"

"Fuck, I can't tell with all the blood and body parts."

Mullins walked around the mess of blood and gore until she came across a body that was intact. She crouched down and placed a finger on the girl's neck to check for a pulse before calling back.

"Aw, hell, we got one still alive. Young girl. I'd bet a fifty that she's not even sixteen."

The girl's eyes opened, and she let out a whimper. Mullins raised her hands, trying to let the girl know that she was not in danger. But, unfortunately, it was hard to look harmless with a gun in one hand.

"It's ok. You're safe."

"No one's going to hurt me?"

Mullins shook her head, "No, I'll protect you. You don't have to worry about anything; I'll take care of you."

"Deal."

Mullins felt something, like a pull when the girl spoke. She did not have the gift of magic, but she had been around it enough to realize that something had happened. The girl rubbed her eyes and ran a hand along her face, leaving behind a streak of blood.

"I'm so tired."

"Are you hurt? Do you know what happened here?"

"I was…" The girl curled up, arms hugging herself as her eyes closed. "I think...I almost died. Just so tired."

Sirens could be heard, getting louder with every second. Mullins stood and looked around again. She let out a string of curses under her breath and was grateful that she was not a detective who specialized in magic. This scene was a mess, but as a regular officer, Mullins would not be kept on the case. She had never had a desire to get involved in the magic community, too many opportunities for nightmares.

A minute later, a stretcher appeared with two EMTs in tow and a detective. Detective Austin was well built, in her opinion anyway, with short black hair and sharp blue eyes. He was a dark shade of cocoa, which spoke of his orc bloodline, something Mullins was smart enough to not ask about. She knew from talk around the station that Detective Austin was a regular runner who liked to participate in marathons. Too much work for her.

He moved to stand next to her while the EMTs checked the girl over. Mullins held back a sigh as she turned to look up at the detective. He was nearly a foot taller than her five foot four. Such was the life of a short person. While she was growing up, the kids at school had joked that she had dwarf in her bloodline because of how short she was. But, the joke was on them; dwarves went extinct during the early part of the First Cycle. Too far back to have an impact on her genetics.

"She say anything?"

Mullins shook her head, "Nothing coherent. She's probably in shock. Hell, I'm in shock."

She took a glance at the carnage behind them. Austin's lips curled in a smirk.

"Better than your partner. He's still revisiting his last meal. Go with the girl. I want to be updated on anything they find. Once your partner gets his shit together, I'll send him your way."

"Yes, sir."

When the stretcher moved, Mullins went with it, riding in the ambulance. When they arrived at the hospital, she stayed out of the way but kept the girl in sight. Because of the circumstances of the scene, the girl was taken to a special wing of the hospital.

Mullins shivered as she walked through the ward. The entire wing had been warded against demons and magic. As a result, demons would be unable to enter and it would nullify magic. The only exception to this was the doctors themselves. Too often, it required magic and medicine to save someone.

If someone was demonically possessed, which did happen occasionally, the wards were supposed to exercise them. When the girl did not react to entering the warded wing, it let everyone know that she was not possessed.

Mullins stood in the back corner while the doctors checked the girl. They did a thorough job. Her clothes were taken off and bagged; they would later be sent to the department so that it could be gone over with the best machines science had and maybe a little magic. A nurse wheeled her away once they were done.

Mullins grabbed a doctor to speak with while they followed the nurse.

"What's the diagnosis?"

"We can't find anything wrong. She was covered in blood but had no wounds. What's odd is the state of her shirt. I've had enough wounds come through to recognize it, though I can't say with certainty. My guess is that she had been stabbed."

"But?"

"But there was no wound, no scar, nothing. I will say that she's most likely in shock. She opened her eyes for a little while, and most of what she said was incoherent. She did say that her name was Rowen Nieves. Hopefully, that helps."

She assured him it would. The doctor promised to check back in later and left. Mullins pulled out her phone after she had settled in Rowen's room. She scrolled through her contacts until she found Detective Austin's number and sent him a quick update as well as the girl's name.

She had worked with him a couple of times before, nothing major, mostly just flatfoot work. She would rather work with Austin; he was at least personable. The other two detectives were far less friendly. Detective King was the oldest at the precinct, approaching fifty. He did the bare minimum and tended to reply in grunts. If he did not like your work, he would file official complaints instead of talking with you.

Detective Cannon was hated by everyone at the precinct, which was fine because he hated everyone in turn. He made it his goal to tell any officer that worked with him that they were useless and incompetent. She had worked with him once, and the nicest reference had been when he called her a child, referring to her height.

Mullins pulled a chair to the door and sat down. It gave her a good view of the kid and of anyone coming in. She doubted that anyone associated with the dead at the warehouse would come after the kid any time soon, but that was no reason to slack off.