How To Kill A Serial Killer

[Iris Lefay]

My phone rang, and I immediately knew who it was.

With a sigh, I answered it. "Wrong time to deactivate your stigma, Freddie. You could've followed him."

"Oh, shut it, Lefay. You know my limits," my detective friend grumbled on the other end, then paused. "Can you still catch him?"

I glanced at the man-sized hole in the window, then at the mercenary pinned to the bookshelf like a macabre decoration.

"Yeah," I shrugged, already stepping toward the window. "You better bring the whole squad. Francis hired some protection from the Syndicate."

A torrent of rather colorful and creative profanity was the only response I got.

"Of course, that gutter-wanking quack excuse of a healer involved the bloody Syndicate," he spat after calming down.

I winced. I forgot this guy can cuss like a sailor when riled up. 

"You seem rather miffed," I muttered, absently wondering if I could use my strand to cleanse my ears.

"Of course I am!" he snapped. "That slimy little gremlin put me on a wild goose chase after making fools of the entire Londonix Police. He left no trace, and I had to start from literally nothing! You know how many sleepless nights I endured for this day?"

I let out a sigh. "I know. Freddie. Where are you?"

"Coming in on the building. Now that he's escaped, I'm sending out officers to cut him off."

I turned my gaze back to Tumblety's twisted collection, bile rising in my throat.

The thought of that slimy creature behind bars, or worse, slipping away, churned my stomach.

"Tell your boys to hurry up, Freddie," I growled. "I have a feeling that Francis might not make it tonight."

There was a long silence on the other end. Then, his voice lowered. "Lefay. Don't do it. I need him for questioning."

A slow smile stretched across my lips. "Then you better get to him first."

"Damn it, Iris! Don't—"

I hung up before he could finish and turned to the mercenary, still pinned to the bookshelf.

"Well," I sighed, offering him an almost apologetic smile. "I can't have you trailing me while I hunt down Francis."

"What—?" was all he managed before the black appendages twisted around his legs, snapping his knees with a sickening crack, and he howled in pain.

He slumped against the bookshelf, panting. "That was… a good move."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I muttered. "But don't worry—the police will be here soon. Since you're of the Syndicate, under contract, and just doing your job, they'll probably go easy on you. Might even heal you up."

"Well, as for what will happen when you return to the Mercenary Guild…" I shrugged. "I guess that's up to you."

He gave a bitter chuckle, too pained to respond properly.

I let him drop to the floor. "I have given you courtesy enough."

I turned toward the broken window, my gaze drifting toward the city's skyline, a sea of colorful lights stretching endlessly beneath the twin moons, Orionis and Galadria.

Whenever I looked up at them, I felt a strange fluttering in my heart and a slight tingle on my lips.

It was as if my body remembers something significant that happened to me underneath the celestial gazes of Orionis and Galadria, something buried deep in my lost memories that, despite everything I tried, I couldn't find them.

Not the time for this. I shook off the feeling and refocused.

My gaze dropped to the street below. I half-expected to see a crowd gathering around Tumblety's broken body sprawled in a pool of blood.

Well. I saw blood. But no dead serial killer.

A grin tugged at the corner of my lips, a sudden surge of exhilaration flooding through me.

Without hesitation, I stepped off the ledge and let gravity take me. The wind rushed past, and the lights smeared into streaks of color as I fell toward the glowing city below.

"Time to kill a serial killer."

*******

Francis Tumblety was running for his life.

Blood streamed from a gash on his head, blurring his vision as sweat stung his eyes. His left arm dangled limp and useless at his side, possibly dislocated or worse, broken.

Every step was agony as he limped along on his mangled left leg, barely holding himself upright.

Although he was an intermediate B ranker, his ardor reinforcement was strong enough to prevent him from dying upon impact.

Many people rushed over as soon as he hit the ground, but he quickly hid his presence using his stigma before they could do anything.

Observer's Blindness.

To the unknowing eye, he simply ceased to exist. A bloodied ghost limping through the streets, unseen. 

But his escape route was marked for those actively searching for him—a faint smoky trail, visible only to his pursuer.

And for someone powerful like her, that faint trail might as well be a burning arrow pointing right at his throat.

The only reason he activated it was to prevent anyone from taking notice of him as he dragged his broken body towards the outer edges of Londonix City.

After all, a bloodied and limping man would surely raise a lot of eyebrows.

His breath trembled, and pain racked his body as he hobbled desperately, trying to leave the city while his stigma, one that hid him from his victims, was leading his executioner right to him.

He gritted his teeth. Where did it all go wrong? He left no trace, and yet the detective from Camelot found him.

And now the Blackrose Knight, who was said to be a Deathwalker, is hunting him.

I must leave the city. I could hide in one of the towns on the outskirts of the Duchy.

The thought of survival propelled him forward, his breath coming in ragged gasps. 

He turned sharply into a dark alleyway, where the city's neon brilliance faded into suffocating black. It was a hidden pathway leading to the outside of the city.

The surrounding shadows seemed to enlarge with each agonizing step he took, their haunting forms creeping up on him.

The walls loomed higher than he remembered. The passage felt tighter, as though the very architecture was shifting, funneling him deeper into the intricate belly of the city.

Then he heard it.

A flutter of wings was followed by a sudden gust of wind above him. 

A soft cry echoed overhead, like a bird. 

But the cry was odd.

It sounded… artificial.

Tumblety halted in his tracks, a sharp chill creeping up his spine. Slowly, he tilted his head upward.

Perched on one of the handrails, its silver feathers glinting in the light of the twin moons, was a mechanima in the form of a falcon.

Its jeweled blue eyes glowed eerily as if it were alive, and it looked down at him with morbid curiosity.

The wind shifted as it flexed its silver serrated talons, deep in the metal.

Tumblety's heart hammered in his chest. He had heard of a silver mechanima belonging to Iris Lefay, which always accompanied her as her eyes in the sky. 

It was considered a harbinger. Wherever the silver falcon perched, the Blackrose Knight followed.

Tumblety never believed in stories like that, but now that he was staring into the glowing blue eyes of the mechanima, he only prayed that it wasn't true.

Then he heard her.

"Going somewhere, Francis?"

Her voice, playful and innocent, slithered through the darkness, echoing all around him.

His breath trembled, and his body refused to move.

Another voice, softer this time, spoke beside him. "So this is how you approached your victims, Francis. Hiding in the shadows, waiting with your filthy little dagger, ready to end their lives?"

He felt her presence beside him as she whispered in his ear. "I must say, this is rather entertaining."

He whipped his head but found nothing. Only darkness.

Iris's soft and playful laughter filled the alley. "Oh, that is so funny! You should see the look on your face!"

Another shift in the corner of his eye caught his attention. But there was nothing there as well.

"But I must admit. You are quite a professional. A clean, brutal slash across the throat before opening them up to collect your vile trophies."

The way she spoke of his methods twisted Tumblety's stomach. His breathing hitched, and his pulse thundered in his ears as his executioner giggled like an excited child.

Suddenly, he saw a flash of black, too fast for the eye to comprehend. A sharp and agonizing pain erupted from his right side.

Blood flowed like a waterfall, and he fell to the ground, screaming as his severed right arm landed right beside him with a wet thud.

Her voice spoke again, amused and merciless. "Isn't this your second modus operandi? To chop off the limbs and heads of some of your victims?"

She sighed in mock admiration. "A clever method to confuse the police. The Londonix police were sure there were two killers when in reality there was only one: you."

"You really made fools out of the formidable Londonix police!" her delighted laughter dug into his neck like the grim reaper's scythe.

Another flash of black and Tumblety's left arm joined his right. As he lay screaming in a pool of blood, the laughter suddenly stopped.

"Eleven."

The shadows on the walls warped, and Iris Lefay emerged

Her blue eyes glowed like twin specters. Wisps of darkness coiled from her coat like living creatures, flickering hungrily in the air around her.

She looked down at him, her face devoid of amusement and her glowing eyes stone cold.

"That's how many innocent women you killed and mutilated, Tumblety." Her tone was no longer playful. It was low and terrifyingly cold as ice.

Tumblety managed between his heavy, painful wheezing. "You… you can't… kill me… The Royal Police… they want me alive…" 

Iris tilted her head, considering his words. "That's true. Freddie wants you alive for questioning. But…"

Her lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. "My contract states to get you dead or alive."

A wave of terrifying Bloodlust swept over Francis Tumblety, suffocating him and enveloping his heart and mind in absolute terror.

Black barbed appendages of pure darkness unfurled from behind Iris like some ancient monster ready to devour his very soul.

In the blink of an eye, they pierced deep into his body, avoiding all the vital areas but elevating his agony as they slowly twisted into his body.

Pain unlike anything he had ever felt flooded his nerves. His body convulsed, spasming in violent, involuntary twitches as the barbs twisted deeper, writhing like serrated needles inside his flesh.

A black appendage immediately wrapped around his mouth, muffling his screams as the appendages piercing his convulsing body lifted him in the air.

His vision dimmed as his terrified eyes fell on the Blackrose Knight, who took another step, lowering herself until her glowing eyes were level with his.

Her curled lips parted to say the last words he would ever hear.

"Unfortunately for you, Dr. Francis Tumblety. I choose dead."

The appendages driven into his body twisted and tightened.

The appendage wrapped around his head slowly and agonizingly twisted his head, separating it from his body, like the cork of a wine bottle.

The sounds of the city muffled the wet snap of his spine and the tearing of flesh as the appendages ripped the legs off the body.

It was a brutal execution, one that the Londonix Butcher truly deserved.