01| dead olive eyes

Sebrion (smoke city)

The streets are wet, it's been raining for what seems like an entire day. The streets are clustered with puddles and less with people. The neon sign above the building across the street is a little too bright, remnants of pink and blue slither through the transparent window blinding her already vacant eyes.

It's almost haunting— the pale green blending almost with the white. It should've been two days- three maybe, from the smell of rotting flesh. Her expression is calm, almost sullen like she looked up through tear filled orifices and knew she wouldn't make it.

The darkness in the small establishment are nothing compared to the bruises around her exposed thighs. Her mouth sewn shut along with an autopsy scar running across her collarbone and chest.

He drags his eyes towards the shelves behind the counter, the bottles of alcohol untouched along with the cash register and hollic rod.

"This wasn't a robbery." Johnny states, his notepad looking ridiculously small in his large palm.

Brushing past him, he squats to take a whiff of the carcass with an indifferent expression. His coat dusting the floors and soaking up some blood from the victim's slit throat. He inspected the jagged flesh, poking at the trachea with a finger.

He turns the head slightly to see the exposed flesh of torn lobes and puss around what used to be full ears. "Must've been in a hurry to not remove the earrings properly."

He made a face, tapping his watch to scan the body, identifying at least two fractured ribs and a sprained wrist. He hated the way old school detectives did their jobs, that's what NA tech is for. The watch beeps and the hologram of the woman's credentials pop up on a faded blue light.

"She wasn't wealthy." Comes Finn's voice as he reads through her file. "Marian Pitcher, 32, lives on verdam avenue at a rented flat with two roommates. Works seven hours a day to pay off her benz C class."

"People still have exotic cars from the two thousands? A bloody greenie?" John quirks a brow, assessing her mint dress and kitten heels. "That's enough to get her killed."

Finn pauses as Johnny clears his throat to hide the obnoxious grin forming on his lip. "Her possessions are of the least relevance. Should the common folk in the capital see this, there will be a demonstration."

A moment passes with Johnny watching his partner work. He scratches the greying hairs on his blonde stubble and the crows feet beside his eyes crinkle with a smile. "Your programming adapts rather quickly, you're a sparse invention."

Finneas barely acknowledges his remark and taps away at his watch. Johnny clears his throat loudly and the AI looks towards him briefly. "Thank you John."

"It's Johnny." The middle aged man complains with a sigh. "And you're right, we should keep this investigation under wraps until we can find the perpetrators."

When he squats down next to the body, he arranges her brown locks behind her one full ear tenderly. "You couldn't finish this course but you're going to get a chance at seeing another one through."

"There is no after life." Finn interrupts, the rapid tapping of aluminum fingers stops and his eyes glow a cyan blue. "I've sent out a signal in regards to our report and getting in contact with the owner of this establishment."

Johnny touches her pale forehead, sending her a look of utter disappointment. "She should be relieved she's been found, she can finally rest in peace."

"Sure." The holographic document disappears and Johnny is in Finn's sights. "Human carcasses are a biohazard, I urge you to stop playing with her lymph nodes."

Johnny hums taken a wandering finger out of the gash in her throat. Finn looks passed the trail of slime and blood with indifference. "The asylum morgue was one of my best posting jobs. The human anatomy will forever be fascinating."

Johnny wipes away the fluids from his fingers with a handkerchief from his coat pocket. When he goes to get his hat off the bar, he sees Finn staring intently at the club just across the street. The sign above the building is glaring and he has to look passed it at the hover cars parked at the entrance. A couple step out, they're human. The male a 6.NB project based on the metal arm he flashes like a Rolex. John stands beside him, digging his hands into his pockets as he watches the couple go.

"You can't be having thoughts about your thoughts kid, you're going to overheat that way."

Finn's joints puff out the steam in his body, eyes trained on the two bouncers at the entrance of the club. "If I am real. Does that mean the reaper also exists?"

'The reaper' is the assumed first ever AI to be created by NA corp. designed for Melanie's daughter as the lead musician in the orchestra. The alleged bot has many names but the reaper became a shoe in when telling the kids stories to maintain their good behavior. The tick in its neck and whirring engines sounded just like music and that's the only indication that the reaper is near.

Johnny's bushy brows cave as he thinks carefully on how to answer. "I honestly don't know. I believe the reaper is a myth that the greenies we let into our city spread to cause some kind of divide between us and the government. It would take billions of tokens to even invent something like that."

"Myths are stories. I am not." From Johnny's place beside the AI he could've sworn he saw something shift in his cyan gaze and heard a tick in his neck. "I am allowed access to every document there is to the city as I am a 100% efficient but anything on my creation I have been denied."

Johnny thinks for a hard minute, arms crossed over his broad chest. Sometimes the bot would take him by surprise and say things relatively human and he couldn't find the right words to respond to it. So he chose the only thing he could that made these interactions simpler, evasion.

"How has working with Adam been? Is he by any chance a better partner than me?" Finn couldn't understand John's teasing smile and humor completely.

"I believe you both have unique qualities that make you special."

Pleased with his answer, John smacks his lips, casually stuffing both hands in his pockets. "Special enough to know our victim was cancerous. But I can wait for an autopsy report."

"We should also check hospital records in case she sought chemotherapy." The tick in his neck becomes non-existent and John's shoulders relax.

His first day as sergeant on the law enforcement agency and he was already entrusted with NA corp.'s most valuable asset. He still smelled like silicone, and never blinked but he could get used to that. But they warned him about the tick in his neck, something about gears changing direction and clashing with one another. He'd fall apart quickly, they said.

"I fucking hate fridays." John states, combing a hand through unkempt blonde hair. "Rotten kids are all over the place once it's closing hours with their loud music and excessive destructive behavior."

"Perhaps they chase the thrill to feel something." Tick "we should question regulars at that club."

"Too tedious." Johnny fought to swallow the groan in his throat. Retirement was right around the corner and he just wanted to be like the other cops that take joy rides and arrest j walkers. He catches Finn's unmoving stare. "You're serious."

Finn nods, "I am."

"Not going to lie Finn, killing a citizen has its consequences but killing a greenie would spark outrage within minutes. We can't question around a murder while withholding information. It just doesn't work that way." He pats down the artificial locs on Finn's scalp.

"You are chicken."

"Ooo that I am. You see this," John points to his face, "I'm old Finn and wiser than google and I can assure you the murderer isn't next door."

The doors to the club swing violently and a burly man in uniform throws a much smaller man on the sidewalk. He struggles to his feet, staggering with each attempt as he grabs an empty bottle off the road. Finn moves away from the window after the drunk locks eyes with him, the teary bloodshot emeralds made him more hostile than pitiful. The man looks towards John before turning away from the pair and throwing the bottle towards one of the bouncers.

"There's a crime I can punish." John states happily.

He packs up his equipment and gun and they head out. Whispers of rain dampen their shoulders and hair in seconds, the drizzle resembling that of a sprinkler. The alleyway reeks of garbage and the puddles of water seem to grow as they close the door behind them with a soft click, Johnny leans over to whisper in his partner ear.

"What was the one rule I taught you." Finn turns around and by the looks of his reddening silicon cheeks, he was overly processing the question. "Don't think too much."

"Always buy a dozen donuts and a pack of gum because you'll end up sharing it."

Johnny chuckles, swatting a thick cloud of fog from his vision. "Yeah— yeah I did say that." His laughter dies as soon as it comes and he looks at Finn sternly. "I also told you to never be too invested in your cases. And to never chase ghost stories, no evidence means no solid foundation for investigation. Marian is a case. The reaper is not."

Finneas processed his words with a nod. The air was freezing but his body was warm to the touch. And sometimes when the bot was filled to the tips of his ears with steam, his silicon skin would redden like a blush.

The smell of garbage disperses and the clean air wafted around them in a gentle sway. John was used to all the foul odour having to work in a morgue for a couple of years. And he was used to holding back rather burly men demanding answers to ongoing cases at the station before his position as sergeant.

The bouncers had already grabbed the man by now. One holding him in place while the other swings a fist at his nose at intervals. The size difference made it unfair from the start, bullying really but lanky was asking for it.

"SLE! That's enough!" John jogs up to them and mediates. The petty squabbles were John's thing, he'd rather be part of the team than a leader.

Finn stood a good distance away. He didn't do well with physical encounters and often found himself back at NA corp. for repairs when he interfered in a fight. He couldn't fly, shoot lasers out his eyes or any of that robot boy crap from cartoon network. And while Johnny enjoyed himself by doing his job and just being a cop, it left Finn the space to search the NA corp. files in his database.