Siren's Song

Part 1

Looking over the photos for his case, Karite notices a small inconsistency with his shooting. The light patterns over the girls face give her a distinctly spectral glow, she looks almost ghostly. It was the same for every other picture he had taken of the girl, all of them, ghostlike in the light. He’d tried other lenses, flashes; nothing seemed to stamp it out. The case itself was pretty clear-cut; follow the girl, find out what she was doing, report back to her parents. He had already found out that she believed in the occult, but then, that wasn’t hard to guess from the way she dressed. No, what bothered him about this case was that no matter what he tried, he couldn’t get a good photo. He drops the photo into a file marked: Alison Wilks. His assistant looks up at him and says one word. “Coffee?” He stands as he does so.

(116) Karite: The sound of coffee sounded good in the back of his mind as he heard the invisible other speak. He turned slightly, inhaling the stick of cancer in his mouth. Must’ve been his sneaking about getting to him with these random voices popping up. This case was interesting though. But it was definitely lacking something. Some substantive ground to stand on. Pictures were obviously not going to work, and sight alone can only tell so much. She had obviously got affected by something to scramble his camera, or maybe he needed to upgrade… either way, he had been doing what the parents wanted. No more, no less. So, tomorrow he’d go back and report after tonight’s venture. It was about time for a nice stroll, and he had to pick up some groceries anyway. The Refrigerator was empty. Leaning back into his aged, torn leather computer seat as it creaked from the strain; smoke emanated from his mouth slowly and built up around his face, covered by his hair, which gave him all the more menacing look. Maybe that tip on the girl going to that location might prove fruitful, but he knew not to get his hopes too high: typically, notes thrown under the door were non-sensical, but it wouldn’t hurt to look. He leaned forward; rising from his chair, before his hand swiftly pulled the cigarette from his mouth, flicking it into the ashtray next to him. He probably should get some more smokes while he was out…

‘9PM – Westhill Cemetery – Behind the Mausoleum’ The clock on the wall said 8.16, fifteen minutes until the store closed as well and ten minutes to arrive. The weather forecast said that it was going to be mostly dry with scattered showers closer to midnight. 37 degrees though, cold night. Even in his apartment, he could see the slightest hint of his breath condenses. This might very well turn out to be a long night.

(116) Karite: Shutting the door with the turn of the key a few times behind him, he began walking his somewhat large, strideful walk towards the store. Hanging his head, his arms to his side, his body swayed back and forth as he walked, to the left and right. His black hair hanging in his face, and his trench coat, whose sleeves went past his hands and the torn tail reaching only inches above the ground, he walked to the place he knew all too well. /’Joey should be on shift by the time I get there, wrapping up as usual by checking the register at 8:25.’\ He thought to himself. Not many people out tonight, as it was a Wednesday, the middle of a workweek. The typical homeless were in their usual spots in the alleys as he passed them, but he knew his destination and did not falter along the way. Dropping his extinguished cigarette on the ground as soon as he arrived, he immediately grabbed his typical groceries of 4 pack of cigs, 2 lighters(cheap ones), a few gallons of tomato and carrot juice, salad, and ham, he was at the register almost as soon as he walked in, knowing where everything was already.

(134) Joey: Joey looks up as Karite dumps his items on the counter, giving him a slight smile. “That all?” He asks, ringing them in, his eyes downcast as he argues with the ham. “Cold night, huh?” He murmurs as he, instead of using the barcode, punches some numbers into the till and bags up the rest of the shopping. A gentle pricking runs across the back of Karite’s neck as he waits to pay, something was wrong. He has these sensations from time to time, and he was rarely wrong about them. Something was out of place.

(116) Karite: It was about time… a slight smile crept onto his face as his eyes looked up at the price for his groceries. He didn’t have that much, so it seemed he’d have to make due. He motioned for the ham to be put back, simplely motioning for it to be put back. His eyes darted around him for a second, before he focused on Joey, Karite’s eyes looking for some sort of displacement on his normal attire, or perhaps something in his hands…

(134) Joey: A slight sigh escapes Joey as he’s told to put back the ham, but complies, his not-quite-smile returning to his lips. He was average, in almost every way, from the dull browns of his hair to the blemished tan of his skin. The only thing remarkable, if it could be called that, was the expedience that he did things; he seemed impatient even at rest. Tonight, however, he was taking his time, which was to say, he was moving about as fast as any other clerk that had served Karite. He looked tired, worn, and his usually bright eyes were faded and dull. Even his usual smile looked forced.

(134) Joey: “Alright, so you sure you got the right money for this now?” He voice was more terse than usual as well; he glances around the store for a moment before shaking his head. “Glad it’s my day off tomorrow.” He murmurs as if to himself. “You alright?” He asks, looking up and nodding towards the readout on the till. “You look a little…” He leaves the statement hanging.

(116) Karite: The money slipped from his sleeve onto the counter, exact change as it happened to be the exact amount he had known it would be. After tomorrow, he’d finish shopping. He quickly slipped his things into the bags himself, before looking to Joey. Something was definitely off, and he was so tempted to find some action in this…it wouldn’t hurt to investigate a little… “What’s the case, Joey?” He’d look up at Joey, his black eyes penetrating through his hair and at Joey as he spoke in an authoritative, somewhat raspy voice, as he does not speak as often as others do.

(134) Joey: Joey snaps out of his thoughts and looks at Karite a hint of mistrust and malaise still in his features. “Case? I… don’t have one, it’s just…” He slumps against the counter and looks at his out-spread fingers. “You’ll think I’m crazy. I think I just need some rest, it’ll make sense after my day off, I’m sure.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself rather than convince Karite. “Things have been going missing in the store, after hours.” He explains quietly. “Boss’s gonna have my head if I can’t prove it’s not me.” His shoulders slump with the omission, and he continues to study the counter as though fascinated.

(116) Karite: His arm would reach into the depths of underneath his coat, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter simultaneously, before quickly depositing the thing in his mouth and lighting it, the lighter being put in an outside pocket as he did this routine thing deftly. “Why Crazy? Evaluate please…”

(134) Joey: “Nothing on the cameras, but in one night half the stock was open or missing.” He shrugs, hesitatingly looking up. “And I keep seeing, no that’s the wrong word, it’s more like a feeling, like someone’s just off the edge of my vision. Like I said crazy.” He shakes his head slightly before jumping as the entrance bell rings. He glances at the door. "Sorry, we’re… "A look of confusion flits across his face.

(116) Karite: “Leave me the keys at the back entrance under the dumpster, I’ll look into it. I’ll expect payment though…” He swiped up his groceries, raising a hand as a sign of goodbye as he left not waiting for a response, going towards the predicted empty entrance. Interesting night he had planned. He’d return home, dropping off all of his groceries, before proceeding to the tip off in hope he could find something out. If not, he already had another case to look into. The trip would leave him 2 minutes until 9:00 if he walked, so he decided to run part of the way, get the blood flowing and make it a bit earlier to give him time to set up a position in the darkness, his home on these cases.

Moving with ease through the over grown gravesite, he bunkers down in the vegetation near the edge of the graveyard, it gave him a clear view of the back of the Mausoleum and even now, as early as he was, he could see a couple of figures moving around by a small fire they had built. The tingling, pricking sensation ran across his neck again as he watched.

(116) Karite: Luckily, his camera didn’t need the flash to see the lit figures in the distance. Zooming in to an appropriate distance, he snapped a few shots, the flash off. Now all he had to do was wait for his quarry. This was exciting even if she didn’t show up.

It wasn’t long before Miss Wilks stepped into view, her make-up made her look like some sort of Porcelain doll, and her overly curly red hair was ever worse. She was dressed differently, though still in black, her dress had a Victorian severeness to it, very different from the metal studded miniskirts and torn net tops held together with brightly colored paper-clips. She started speaking to the four others that were there, all of then with their gazes unfalteringly on her doll-like face. Her voice had an air of authority, something that he had not heard when he had ventured close enough to hear her. “My friends, brethren, listen to me and I will teach you.” Her voice, besides the occasional crackle from the fire, was the only thing to break the silence.

(116) Karite: His camera was put away as he exhaled smoke from his cigarette. He’d have to get in at a better angle, as this was too far. Already, he could feel his blood pumping as he knew this was going to a real good time for him. Slowly moving, he stuck to the shadows, hoping to get closer and have a better view of the people with the naked eye, but not getting too close. If there were no possible darkness, the environment would suit well for him as he would take cover behind whatever he could…

Siren's Song

In a Strange World Rillian