Blue Eyes, White Lies

Chapter 13

We stood there, barely able to process what had happened. The men had disappeared into the night in the blink of an eye, but not after leaving a declaration of war, of all things.

All we'd gotten out of the encounter was a threat and a name. Lysandre. I'd be sure to to search it when we returned to the cabin. Luckily enough nobody seemed hurt, just a little shell shocked.

Julian put his glasses back in their place, regaining his composure as quick as he could. 

Eric, on the other hand, was still fairly shaken by whatever had occurred, standing blank faced with shock. 

The weapons were still laying flat in the fresh powder. Not like either Julian nor Eric could touch them, of course. I picked one up from the ground, covering my hand with my sleeve as to not get any more prints on it. I carefully put it in my bag, making sure no part of it could hurt Julian or Eric. 

Eric shakes his head, clearing whatever it was away. "We need to head back, now. As much as I can't smell any others, I couldn't smell them. They've got experience."

Julian nods. "Keiji, I'd suggest you keep that dagger on you. From here on out, it only gets worse."

I nod, keeping my hand on the handle. Hopefully the name and dagger will give us a clue as to what we're against. 

——

We get home in the same silence we usually do. Eric slaps his notebook down, grabbing a black pen and a set of post its in a different color. 

Beside him sits a sketch of the symbol, a coordinate map, and the dagger (in a plastic bag). He writes a few notes down, marking up the coordinate chart.

It no longer looks like a simple throwing weapon, instead resembling a wing. A very simple wing, but a wing. 

Did they want us to find them? They gave clues that made it seem so. 

He lifts his book up, showing it to us.

"Any thoughts from you two?"

He still looks shaken, now with an extra layer of exhausted. 

"If you want the obvious, it's a wing. Beyond that, I've got nothing." I say.

"That's what I thought." He sighs, putting a post it in his book and closing it. "At least with a basic outline we have a clue of where the next strike will be. You need two marks per feather, so they'll be rather close." He sketches a diagram on a spare piece of paper, highlighting the predicted areas.  "We'll watch these areas for anything suspicious."

He continues to pin papers to the board, sketching things out and writing them down.

I quietly excused myself and went back up to my room. 

First order of business:

Wing symbol.

I booted up my laptop, opening a new tab. First, a simple search. 

"What things have wings?"

Insects, bats, birds.

I scrolled down, skipping to the third page. Angels, fae, fairies.

That doesn't narrow it down all that much, but it's definitely a start. 

I type in another key word.

"Logos with wings"

Red Bull. 

Definitely not what I'm looking for. Even after scrolling, I couldn't find anything more than the mainstream.

I sigh, rolling my eyes. 

For now, I'm giving up on finding them. Lysandre is what I'm looking for.

A quick search of the registry gives me near nothing, only a few kids being born with that spelling of the name in this area. 

That is, until I continue to scroll. I don't find any children matching, but I do find an old cold case. I hesitantly click on the link to the site, a headline reading:

"25th anniversary of Aaron L Hall's disappearance"

It didn't make much sense for this showing up, but it had to for a reason, didn't it? 

I scroll down a little, skim reading what I can, jotting a few things down. 

"This Saturday marks the 25th year of the infamous disappearance of Aaron Hall, an Atlanta native. This also marks the 24th year since his case was officially marked a cold case."

The article was from over a decade ago...

Wait. I re read the first passage. "Atlanta"

He's from Georgia. Yet another clue of where to check. 

Quickly, I bookmark the page and shut my laptop, going downstairs to show what I've found. 

"Guys?" 

They perk their heads up.

"I think I've got something. It's a small something, but it's a something."

Eric opens to a new page in his journal.

"What've you got?" He looks me nearly dead in the eyes, glad to have a potential answer.

"Well, I found an old cold case that I think might be related." I take a breath in, starting to talk a bit faster. "They mentioned a name. Lysandre. I tried googling a few records, and what'dya know, I found something. It's a missing persons case."

Eric nods, writing down a summary of what I've said.

"Name and age?"

"I've only got a name so far. Aaron L. Hall. The article doesn't say much, but he's been gone 25 years."

Eric blinks a bit, shaking his head again. 

"Alright. Hopefully that'll help. Go find what you can."

His tone seems snappier, defensive, but almost aggressive. I must've struck a nerve.

I nod, leaving for the upstairs, trying to avoid his bad mood. Opening back up to the page, I keep reading.

"In 1991, he was reported missing by his room assistant when he hadn't come home in a few days. He was 21 years of age at the time."

"Friends and family said he had an interest in the arts, majoring in them too. Authorities connect  his case to several cases in the Atlanta region that winter. To this day his case still puzzles researchers."

I continue scrolling, there's a few links at the bottom from roughly the same time. 

Two links catch my eyes, one titled "Missing: The Cases of 1991." another titled "Robert E. Smith; Who was he?"

I bookmark both, going over what I have. It's not much, but it's more to look into.

I click the first link.

"What were the 1991 disappearances?" The author starts. "A simple answer? A string of cold cases. To be more complex, a puzzle. And a very confusing one."

I scroll down more, getting passed the explanation. A location stands out to me, Georgia State. All seven victims had one thing in common. They'd been to Georgia state or currently attended it. All had been reported missing after been last seen at bars. 

The kicker? The two most notable had been mentioned Aaron Hill and Robert Smith. 

I guess I had my work cut out for me.