Stakeout

It was past midnight, but the sounds and lights of the Hovan district near downtown were still lively.

"Do you see someone?" A woman's voice crackled through the encrypted transceiver.

"Not even a cat," Kit replied, rubbing his hands together and pulling his pink purse closer. The blonde wig he wore helped alleviate the cold. He wobbled through the residential alleyways of Hovan district in red stilettos, a cropped fur coat, leggings, and a mini skirt.

"Nobody is here," said Bryan, shivering. He wore a brunette wig, black heels, and a shimmering dress. Walking through a different alley, he conversed with Cindy and Kit through their portable radios.

"Just continue," Cindy said over the radio. She was inside a car near the entrance of the residential area, peering over at suspicious passersby. She gave Sycamore a call.

When he picked up, she said, "Detective, what the hell have you been doing? The guys are cold, and there's nothing here! Are you sure this is the right approach for this case?"

She paused to listen. "Hell yeah, I'm questioning your methods. This is 2024, and a stakeout? This isn't even fun—"

The call cut off. "Detective? Hello? Detective?" She saw Sycamore hang up and threw her phone on the passenger seat in frustration.

Sycamore was close by, wandering through the narrower alleys with his flashlight off. He spotted something on the ground, turned on his flashlight, and pointed it at the concrete where drops of black were visible.

Crouching down, he put on a white synthetic glove on his right hand and touched it. A quick rub and he knew—it was a mix of red and black blood.

A sudden call rang in the silence, making him jump. "What now..." he sighed and picked it up. "What?!"

His frown deepened, and he cut off the call, running immediately back to the car.

When he reached them, the guys had already changed out of their disguises, and Cindy opened the passenger seat for him to enter.

"Let's go," he said, closing the car door. He placed the sirens on the hood of the car and immediately called for backup.

"The golden time starts now. Send more people. We need to widen the search area."

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The scene had already been secured when they arrived, Sycamore rushing through the tape to the body, the others following close behind.

"Bryan and Kit, talk to the residents and patrollers. Cindy, you're with me."

"Yes, detective," the three answered in unison.

More police cars arrived at the scene, and the search began immediately. Sycamore and Cindy approached the body and saw a clear indication. The woman's neck had been sliced, and she lay in a pool of her blood, mixing with a black, tar-like substance.

Sycamore cursed under his breath. "We need to call a priest."

Cindy, hearing his remark, replied, "Detective, how could you be sure it wasn't already on the concrete? It might be dissolved asphalt or tar... The lieutenant told us to follow standard search protocols." Her voice was stern, her eyebrows furrowed.

"This is why..." Sycamore sighed. "Follow the protocol, then." He turned and pulled out his phone to dial Pierrot.

When the call ended, Sycamore diverged from the team and looked around. Six possible paths were being searched by officers. Further and further. Police canines had been dispatched, and alerts were made.

Sycamore stood at the center of the chaos, hair stood on end, as his suspicions grew.

"Less than 20 minutes," he muttered, looking at the time on his phone. "The girl should be somewhere within a 3 to 4-kilometer radius. No traces of vehicle tires, not even shoe prints..."

He paused to think. "Depending on the mode of travel, they could be closer or farther, but if it's... a flying vehicle?" He scoffed at himself.

Someone else arrived at the scene and he saw Quill running toward him. Sycamore gave him a glare.

"Why did he send you?"

"I'm your best bet."

He sighed. "Alright, shortie, come with me."

Quill gave him a glare, and the two headed to the scene. The malach's expression instantly turned dark.

"Demons," he said immediately from outside the tape. "Their presence is too strong. They might be close. Call Pierrot again—we need more priests."

Sycamore obliged and Quill started inspecting the scene. He crouched, gloves donned and a face mask. "No shoe prints..."

The detective was back and immediately joined him on the inspection. "What is it?"

"The demon in dominion didn't leave any of its body's traces. Only the black blood."

"How's that possible?"

"Many ways. Its body could have taken on a smoke form, hovering or even flying. But once it touched the woman, black blood merged through her, gaining tangibility." Quill removed the mask and gloves, walking away from the scene.

Sycamore's creased brow worsened, and he stood up. "That's fucking straight out of fiction."

Quill walked toward him. "It would certainly make more sense when every police officer in Crowns City will join in the search until the 24-hour golden time is over... right?" He was inches away, his eyes sunken beneath his frizzy mint hair, glaring straight at Sycamore.

The detective's face darkened.

Quill moved away. "I will follow the traces if I still can, but I would need help." He noticed Sycamore was frozen in thought.

He scowled at him. "Go to work." Then ran through the alley on the farthest right, where officers were scarce.

Sycamore grunted and took out his phone again when he received a call. It was Jon Handel.

"Lieutenant?" Sycamore sighed. "No, there is clear demon involvement."

"Abductions are possible," said Sycamore in a stern voice to the phone. "I'll report to you right after."

He immediately cut off the call with Jon still speaking and dialed Pierrot. He checked the time, and almost an hour had passed, with no relevant reports or sightings.

"Pierrot, shortie said we need more priests. I was right about demon involvement, and Quill is trying to follow its trail."

Cindy approached him while he was on the call and he turned.

"Detective, you should see this..."